CHAPTER 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Lovers and Friends – Usher, Lil Jon, Ludacris...

Sometimes wanna be your lover,
Sometimes wanna be your friend,
Sometimes wanna hug ya,
Hold hands, slow-dance while the record spins,
Opened up your heart 'cause you said I made you feel so comfortable,
Used to play back then, now you all grown-up like Rudy Huxtable,
I could be your Bud, you could beat me up,
Play-fight in the dark, then we both make love,
I'd do anything just to feel your butt,
Why you got me so messed up?
I don't know, but you gotta stop trippin',
Be a good ... now, turn around, and get these whippings,
You know you like it like that,
You don't have to fight back,
Here's a pillow - bite...that,
And I'll be settin' separate plays,
So on all these separate days,
Your legs can go they separate...ways...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

When Ichigo pushed past the doors of a quiet cafe not too far from campus, he felt like a burglar. His eyes were everywhere, taking in all of the patrons who were more than likely unaware of his presence. His heart was beating at the back of his tongue, and he felt like he was doing something worthy of a long jail sentence. He couldn't help it. When he'd agreed to meeting up with Kensei, he'd felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. How could he have predicted Kensei being so eager to hang out with him after not even seeing one another since high school? Not that that was all that long ago, but still. It was the principle of the thing. Now, there was the added bonus of Ichigo being somewhat kinda sorta involved with Grimmjow. They hadn't verbally made anything official, but they had made love declarations, which in Ichigo's book, meant they were as good as going steady.

He took his time walking through the small establishment, noting the romantically muted lighting, the soft, eggshell-colored walls and toffee-colored, hardwood floors, along with the slow jazz playing in the background. All in all, the place screamed date. He spotted Kensei's silver hair at the back corner of the cafe, muscular body seated comfortably in a caramel-brown booth. Nerves shooting every which way, he strolled over, trying to pretend that his heart wasn't climbing into his throat.

"Ichigo," Kensei greeted with a smile, and even though Ichigo's heart was set on a blue-haired giant, it warmed him by several degrees.

Kensei really was a good-looking guy.

"I almost thought you weren't gonna make it," he went on.

Ichigo cleared his throat as he took a seat across from the football player. "Nah, I just got a little hung up with some homework I'd forgotten about."

Lies.

He'd finished all of his assignments in hopes that Grimmjow would return and they could spend all their free time together. Ichigo fiddled with the string on his light-brown hoodie, avoiding the honey-gray gaze he was certain was fixed on him. Kensei must have known something was up, but he was good about it. Instead of drawing up in offense, he chuckled and leaned back against the booth cushion, arms folding across his broad chest.

"You look really nervous, ya know?"

Ichigo blew out a hesitant breath. "I do?"

"Yeah. Ya look like you're about to scram outta here any second now."

He laughed. Kensei didn't know just how right he was. Ichigo was so uncomfortable, he felt like Satan at a church banquet. But this had been his idea to meet up with the guy. It was only right that he tell Kensei the truth about Grimmjow. However, when he finally decided to look the other young man in the eyes, he felt paralyzed with guilt. Kensei was staring at him, expression open, friendly, warm and oh, so inviting. How could Ichigo let him down without hurting his feelings?

What he hadn't anticipated was Kensei's perceptiveness.

"I guess I'm too late again, huh?" Kensei rumbled, a devilish gleam in his hazel eyes.

Ichigo frowned, confused. "What?"

"That idiot finally made his move, right? That's why yer so nervous?"

"Uh..."

"Look, it's alright, Ichigo. I get it. I was just hopin' I still had a chance with you, but if you an' Grimm-"

"Holy shit, how do you know that?!" Ichigo blurted, eyes wide.

Kensei chuckled again, the sound angling directly to places Ichigo thought he'd reserved for Grimmjow alone. "Anyone with eyes can see how much you guys like each other."

Just how many people knew how they felt about one another before they even did? Well, before they'd admitted it, anyway. The fact that Kensei, a guy Ichigo hadn't been close with at all, could see what he'd been trying to hide for so long...well, it was embarrassing as hell.

"What the fuck," he grumbled, tucking his chin into his hoodie as he studied the table in front of him. "I can't believe this."

"It's nothin' to be ashamed about, right? I mean, you guys've known each other forever. It kinda makes sense when you really look at it."

Ichigo nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. If that was the case, then why...

"How come you asked me out if you already knew how I felt about Grimm?"

This time, Kensei paused and blew out a deep breath. "Honestly? I just like ya. You're a sarcastic little shit, but it's funny. And you're hot. Like, really hot. So, why not?"

The fire that spread over Ichigo's face should have turned the booth into volcanic ash. Kensei really thought that way about him? Yeah, he'd called him a sarcastic shit, but it was kind of a compliment. Not to mention, it was true. God, he was so embarrassed. He'd never had anyone call him hot to his face, but he had to admit...he liked it. A lot.

His lips pressed together in a shy smile as he met Kensei's imploring gaze. "I feel like an ass for making you come out here."

"Nah," Kensei said, hurriedly waving away Ichigo's words. "No harm done. I figure we can still be friends, right?"

Friends. Ichigo knew what Kensei was really trying to say. Kensei was willing to ride the bench while Grimmjow was in the game, but if things didn't work out...Kensei would be there. While Ichigo thought that was extremely unfair to Kensei (hell, Kensei was way too good-looking to be hung up over him), if that was what the silver-haired young man wanted, then who the hell was Ichigo to tell him no?

"Yeah, friends sounds good."

Kensei's eyes sparkled as he grinned. "Good."

XOXOXO

Grimmjow stared at the clock on the microwave, willing the time to pass. He was still livid over the phone conversation he'd eavesdropped on the night before. How could his mother not tell anyone about what was going on? Uncle Mayuri alone could have helped her a long time ago. He couldn't believe she wanted to go through dealing with the yakuza on her own. It was fucking ridiculous.

He tapped his fingers on the table and sighed, completely restless. One part of him wanted to barge into his mother's bedroom and confront her about the situation, but another part of him advised him to wait for his uncle's arrival. When he'd spoken to the older blue-haired man, Mayuri had been silent the entire time. At the end of Grimmjow's distressed explanation, however, Mayuri had quietly told him he was on his way. Honestly, the soft-spoken words had sent chills up Grimmjow's back. He'd never actually experienced his uncle serious before, let alone angry.

Now, Grimmjow had to play the waiting game. The only time he considered patience a virtue was on the football field, and even then, it was occasional.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

He jumped. He'd been so distracted with wondering when his uncle would arrive that he'd allowed his mother to creep up on him. Unfortunately, he was still resenting the fact that she hadn't told him what was going on, so when he turned to face her, his eyes were hard, his mouth grim. Retsu flinched, a look of offended confusion racing over her gentle features.

"What's that look for?"

Grimmjow slowly came to his feet and closed off any route of escape she might use before he growled, "When were ya gonna tell me ya had yakuza assholes breathin' down yer neck over dad's debt, Ma?"

At first, she recoiled, panic evident in her dark-blue eyes, but that only lasted for a few seconds before she was glaring at Grimmjow in a way he hadn't seen since he was a kid. Even though he felt the invisible pressure of her mastered motherly glower, he forced himself not to be intimidated. Which, when he thought about how much danger she'd been putting herself in, it wasn't too hard to do.

"Huh?" he urged, edging closer.

"You stop this right now, Grimmjow," she growled.

"Um, yeah, no. Are you fuckin' crazy, Ma? You don't know what those guys're capable of! They-"

"That's enough!" Retsu shouted, tears springing to her eyes. "I won't let them do to you what they did to your father!"

The silence that followed her words could only be described as dense. Thick as a heavy fog. Grimmjow stared at his mother in disbelief and shock so profound, it was almost traumatizing.

"What?"

Retsu sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes before taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Why do you think I encouraged you to follow your dream? Your father wanted the same thing, but the Oomori Group had other ideas. They made him throw his games, used him up until there was nothing left, and then they killed him. They killed your father, all because he wanted to be his own man and not their pawn."

Grimmjow retreated to the kitchen table and sat down hard, air whooshing out of him and blood rushing to his head. He stared at the floor, still shell-shocked. A gang had killed his father? Was that why he didn't really remember much about the man? Aside from their mirror looks, his father's overwhelming height and deep, booming laugh, Grimmjow couldn't recall many details. He had questions for years, but before he could voice them, his mother continued, voice unsteady.

"I thought when you told me you wanted to play American football that it would be fine. You didn't seem to be in danger because you were so small. I knew they wouldn't take you seriously, so I encouraged you. I just wanted you to be happy, sweetheart, but then...well, you came back from America looking just like your father. I couldn't believe how much you'd grown. And once you told me you still wanted to be a football player, I knew. I knew they would know and interfere, and the whole thing would start all over, this time with my only child. I absolutely would not let that happen, so when they came calling, I bargained with them. I asked them to allow me to pay whatever debt your father had left behind in exchange for them leaving you alone. It was the only thing I could think to do at the time, Grimmjow. You have to understand."

Grimmjow held up a hand, tears running down the sides of his face and a lump lodged in his throat. He felt like such a dick for cursing at his mom and being angry with her. All his life, she'd done nothing but try to protect him as he chased after his dream. He swallowed and closed his eyes, hurt crowding him like rush hour traffic.

Was that why he'd never really gotten to know his father? The man had been too busy keeping the fucking yakuza away from his family. What must that have been like? Grimmjow wondered in despair. To have a huge dream like playing in the NFL, only to become a gang's lap dog. How was that even fair?

"S-so Dad...Dad..."

The words just wouldn't come, but luckily, Retsu figured out what he was trying to say.

"Your father planted that seed in you, sweetie. You may not remember, but whenever Amaud was home, he spent his time with you, watching games on TV, teaching you the terminology...he loved you very much and believed you would be just like him. I'm sure he's proud of you, and I know for certain he's somewhere gloating," she ended with a chuckle.

Grimmjow choked and tried to blink back the flow of tears, but a distant memory surfaced at the coaxing of his mother's words. He remembered sitting on their old tattered couch next to a huge, blue-haired man, who could only have been his father. They'd been watching a small TV, his father excited and speaking to Grimmjow in rapid English, while tossing a football between his large hands. Grimmjow recalled the look of awe and adoration he'd worn as he'd sat beside his father, not understanding a thing that was going on, but having fun all the same.

He remembered, and it killed him. He covered his mouth and tried to disguise the sobs wrenching out of him, but it was impossible. Retsu floated over to him and pulled his head to her stomach, running her fingers through his hair as she soothed him with tender murmurings.

How the hell had he forgotten something so important? Was it because he'd been so small? Fuck. So, his father had been the source of his love for American football, huh? He buried his face in his mother's dress, inhaling the nostalgic scent of detergent and food aromas. His dad hadn't been a gambling piece of shit like he'd assumed when the man had disappeared, leaving his wife in astonishing amounts of debt. In fact, his father could be considered a hero for trying to keep the gang away from his family.

Grimmjow was in the middle of trying to figure out what they would do next, when the doorbell rang, and he was reminded that his uncle had arrived in Japan for the first time in probably six years.

XOXOXO

Ichigo glared across the table in his favorite corner of the library...again. This time, however, the culprit was one he truly disliked. Long, blond hair flowed over slim shoulders as Ilforte gave Ichigo an unimpressed glower down his straight nose. His posture was model perfect as he sat rigidly in the high-backed, wooden seat, arms folded on the table.

"I didn't come here to start trouble with you. I'm just really concerned about Jag and his recent behavior."

Ichigo resisted the urge to growl and lunge across the table in a possessive rage, settling for a sarcastic eyebrow arch.

"And you figured you'd come to me?"

"Well...you are his best friend."

Ilforte looked as though the words had been pulled from his mouth with pliers and no anesthetic. Ichigo almost laughed until he realized what Ilforte's appearance meant.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Ichigo closed his laptop and leaned over it. "Grimm doesn't want you. And if I can remember correctly, he told you to fuck off."

Ilforte leaned over his crossed arms with an arrogant, sinister smirk. "I think it's you who doesn't get it, Ichigo. If you think for one second that I'm gonna let Jag go that easily-"

"Wow, so you're obsessed?"

"I am not obsessed," Ilforte snapped, his face twisted with disgust before he decided to mask it with blankness again. He swept his hair over his shoulder and blinked at Ichigo with hooded eyes. "Like I was saying: I'm not giving up on Jag so easily. He may be confused and thinking he wants you – though only god knows why – but I'll be sure to help him realize the error of his ways."

Ichigo stared at Ilforte like the blond was a new species of insect, and Ichigo just couldn't understand him. And that was what ultimately made up Ichigo's mind to leave his favorite table. He stuffed his laptop into his backpack and gave Ilforte one last disbelieving look, his head shaking in pity. How could someone be so crazy?

As Ichigo made his way towards the glass double doors, he reminded himself to warn Grimmjow about Ilforte's madness. Apparently, Ilforte wasn't done because he followed Ichigo to the exit, hounding his steps until they reached the outside of the library. Wind swirled around them as Ichigo gaped at the blond.

"What now?" he blurted. "I fuckin' get it. Yer crazy as hell; I'll let Grimm know."

Ilforte rolled his eyes as if Ichigo was the one being a bother. "What a waste of space. I'm leaving as well, you idiot."

While Ichigo almost took offense to being called an idiot, he ended up laughing instead. Ilforte was beyond crazy. As a matter of fact, he was something Ichigo had never encountered in his life, and that was saying something with the kind of old man he had. Speaking of which...

Ichigo's mind wandered as he ignored Ilforte and traipsed towards the dorm. He hadn't spoken to his father and sisters in a while, and he kind of felt bad about it. He'd been too busy dealing with his romantic angst that he'd forgotten to touch bases with them. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more it worried him. His dad had never missed an opportunity to annoy the living shit out of him, so going weeks without a dramatic phone call was odd.

His steps became hurried as he entered the dorm until he was running up the stairs to his room. He plowed inside and came to an abrupt stop.

"Yo."

Ichigo's entire face paled before filling with heat. Grimmjow stood up and strolled over, every step slow and filled with purpose. His face was wary, as if Ichigo was a frightened animal that he was trying to corner. Really, Ichigo didn't blame him if that was how he felt. Guilt churned inside of him like boiling water as he looked into Grimmjow's troubled, yet alluring blue eyes. He towered over Ichigo when he came to a stop in front of him, and the gray school hoodie he wore did nothing to hide his muscular arms. Ichigo stared and hoped he wasn't drooling. Only Grimmjow could have such an effect on his libido.

"You still mad at me?"

Ichigo didn't say anything. He was too busy watching Grimmjow's lips move. Unfortunately, Grimmjow took his silence as affirmation.

"I figured you were since you still weren't answerin' yer phone."

Honestly, the only reason Ichigo hadn't bothered to answer Grimmjow's calls was because he had no idea where and how to begin apologizing for his selfish behavior. Guilt had kept him from making the first move, and it kept him from confronting the situation the way he should have. He also thought he'd have more time to come up with something suitable to say, considering Grimmjow hadn't seemed inclined to return to school when they'd last spoken.

But here he was. And he was still as marvelous as Ichigo imagined, not to mention, he smelled amazing.

"I thought you weren't comin' back," he mumbled, eyes focused on Grimmjow's lips.

"That why you were so salty?"

Ichigo shifted his gaze, brown eyes glaring into amused blue. "Shut up."

Grimmjow moved in, a smile lingering on his lips as he set his big hands on Ichigo's hips. "Ya know, it's OK ta tell me ya missed me."

Ichigo opened his mouth to make a biting, sarcastic retort, but Grimmjow altered the mood like only he could. Expression deadly serious and slightly earnest, Grimmjow dipped his head until their foreheads and noses met.

"I missed you," he breathed.

And that was about all the resisting Ichigo planned to put forth. His heart skipped and warmth filled every part of his body as he reached up and cradled Grimmjow's face between his hands.

"Yer such a jerk," he murmured before slowly tasting the taller boy's lips.

It wasn't the first time they'd kissed, but each time felt new. Each time made Ichigo feel like a horde of ants had been released in his stomach, and like nothing in the world could go wrong. When Grimmjow opened his mouth and slid his tongue between Ichigo's lips, it was like striking a match: everything went up in flame instantly. They both moaned, deepening the kiss as Grimmjow's arms grew desperate, clasping Ichigo to him, his hands roving over Ichigo's back.

As much as he was enjoying where this was headed, Ichigo knew that their previous spat had to be addressed. He was still feeling a tiny bit bitter about the things Grimmjow had said to him, and he was sure Grimmjow was resenting how Ichigo had basically forced him to choose between his new love and his mother. So, with tremendous effort, he pulled out of the drugging kiss and looked into Grimmjow's glazed blue eyes.

Boy, it didn't take much to get him going, huh? Ichigo grinned to himself as he thought it didn't take much for himself, either.

"We should probably talk about what happened," he muttered, running a hand over Grimmjow's shoulder.

"What, now?"

Grimmjow's voice was guttural and thick, and it sent delicious sensations skittering over Ichigo's skin. It made separating their bodies that much harder.

"Don't you think so?" Ichigo asked. Then, he took a closer look at Grimmjow's expression and realized that no...Grimmjow definitely didn't think so. "Look, I was an asshole about the situation with your mom, and-"

Grimmjow sigh-groaned and rolled his eyes so dramatically, Ichigo stuttered to a stop in order to stare at him in surprise.

"Ichigoooo," Grimmjow started, running a hand through his untidy blue hair as he moved over to his bed and plopped down onto it. "I know why ya said what ya said, alright? It ain't like we made shit official before I had ta up an' leave, so I get it. It was fucked up-" here he paused and gave Ichigo a stern look. "But I get it."

Ichigo shook his head and crossed the room to squat in front of Grimmjow. "That's not the point I'm tryna make, idiot. I'm tryna say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to choose between me and your mom."

He hung his head in shame, afraid to meet his best friend/lover's eyes. He really had behaved like a jerk.

Grimmjow snorted. The sound brought Ichigo's head up, and he was shocked to see Grimmjow grimacing with his own form of pain and shame.

"Yeah, and ya think I don' feel like shit fer sayin' what I said ta you? I know ya took it the wrong way."

Ichigo eyes flashed when he remembered Grimmjow's harsh words. "Hell yeah, I took it the wrong way. I thought you didn't give a shit about how I felt."

Grimmjow's face turned pink as he avoided Ichigo's eyes, which was entirely too adorable for words. Ichigo stared at the other boy in awe as he watched his larger than life friend (and maybe boyfriend?) turn into a shy school boy.

"Don' be stupid, Ichigo," he mumbled, eyes somewhere on the floor to Ichigo's right. "Of course, I care how you feel." And just like that, the shy disappeared as Grimmjow met Ichigo's gaze head-on. "I wasn't exaggerating when I told ya I love you, you know."

Something shy and embarrassed wanted to raise its head as Ichigo blushed, but he wouldn't dare give Grimmjow something to blackmail him with. Instead, he climbed to his feet and nodded, his eyes going to half mast the way he knew Grimmjow liked.

"Oh, yeah?" he rumbled as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

He straddled Grimmjow's legs, thoroughly enjoying the way Grimmjow's eyes went wide with surprise before narrowing with lust.

"Mind refreshing my memory?"

Grimmjow grinned and ran his hands up the backs of Ichigo's thighs until he had twin handfuls of Ichigo's bottom.

"Don't mind if I do."

As Ichigo lowered his head and met Grimmjow for another intoxicating kiss, all thoughts of not hearing from his old man, Ilforte and his craziness – and even his and Grimmjow's fight – were far from his mind.

Thanks for reading!