[Log] Grimmjow, Isshin
Title: Whistle while you... (Party Log)
Characters: Grimmjow (formative), Isshin (lotus_seed)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A musical encounter between Grimm and Isshin in the john...
The downside of beer was that it really got your kidneys and bladder working. Grimmjow pushed the door to the men's room open and found it much less crowded than he'd expected which suited him just fine.
He liked some peace and quiet for this kind of business. Stepping towards the urinals, he unzipped his pants and placed a hand against the wall.
Seconds after, Isshin breezed into the men's room, humming a song under his breath. He set his drink on the sink counter and assumed the position in front of an open urinal, whistling what sounded like "Highway to Hell".
Whistling? In the men's room of all places and right next to him, of course. What the fuck was wrong with the world? Casting a sideways glance at Isshin, Grimmjow frowned.
"Dude, you mind?" he snapped.
Isshin couldn't figure out what the problem was. He broke the first commandment of men's room etiquette - and how the hell could he not when this guy broke the second one by talking to him while they were both holding their dicks - and made eye contact.
"What?" then he recognized the man as a member of the Arrancar - he had met them a few times before, when they came in to the office for a photoshoot. Isshin grinned. "Hey, I'm glad you could make it to the party tonight."
All Grimmjow wanted was to take a leak and then get out to enjoy the party but this guy didn't get it, did he? First whistling and now talking - it was annoying beyond belief.
He was glad the musician could make it to the party? Was he supposed to know this old guy?
"I'd be glad, too, if I could just take a piss and actually be at the party instead of makin' small talk with ya over our dicks, man."
Isshin couldn't figure out what this guy's problem was. If he wanted to pee so bad, why'd he strike up a conversation? And If he thought he could act this way because he was some bass player, well Isshin wasn't about to let that pass, either.
"Well then pee, dammit, and quit being an ass!" he snapped, then turned back to the task at hand, too irritated to whistle an actual tune.
"That's what I'm trying to do and I'd be finished by now if ya could shut up for a second!" Grimmjow snapped back. This whole situation was ridiculous and somewhere in the back of his head he knew that he was being irrational and childish but if one's bladder was about to burst, rationality tended to take a step back.
Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the noise Isshin was making and
concentrated on the issue at hand. "STOP THE WHEEZING!"
Isshin flushed and started zipping up his fly. "Well if ya wanted me to stop whistling, then you should said so! - and what's wrong with it anyway? It helps ya go!"
Especially when you have to share the can with someone as goddamn annoying as this guy... Isshin scowled as he turned on the tap and lathered up his hands.
"Only if you're a fucking five-year-old!" Grimmjow sneered at Isshin before he too, finally, finished what he came here to do. A small relieved sigh escaped him as he shook twice and zipped his pants up.
The musician flushed and strode past the older man at the basins without sparing him another glance, hands tucked away in his pockets.
Now THAT was more than Isshin could deal with. Unwashed hands... and a buffet table?!
"HEY!" he roared, completely outraged and oblivious to how juvenile this fight was, "WASH YOUR HANDS, DAMMIT!"
On any other day, Grimmjow would have flipped Isshin the bird and walked out. However, given their - albeit short yet intense - history, he couldn't and wouldn't take this kind of treatment from the other man. He turned around on the spot and prowled towards Isshin, hands balled into fists in his pockets.
“What the fuck is your problem, old man?” the bassist growled.
"My problem," Isshin growled as he shut off the tap and swiped a couple paper towels to dry his hands with, "is that there are a shitload of people out there that your and my careers depend on, and you're gonna head out there with your dirty hands to the buffet table, and probably give them all the runs. IT AIN'T COOL, GRIMM."
Isshin stepped away from the sink and motioned for the musician to lather up.
It finally clicked. This guy was the host of the party and thus head honcho of that magazine. Grimmjow glared at Isshin as he stepped towards the basin.
"For the record: I keep a very clean penis," he growled, "’n this is just so you can't blame shit on me if the crowd starts barfing." Which would happen sooner or later considering the 'open bar'. He rubbed his hands under the spray of water furiously.
"There, happy now?" The Arrancar held up his hands and shook them, sending drops of water flying in the process.
Isshin's scowl softened - the rockstar had, after all, washed his hands. "Yanno, the paper towels are free, but yeah - thanks, huh?"
And just as quickly as the scuffle started, it was stopped, for Isshin, anyway. He chuckled at the "clean penis" comment. "Alright man, maybe we'll do a shot together or somethin' - and I won't whistle around your clean penis anymore."
Not whistle around... That statement coming from Isshin was wrong on so many levels that Grimmjow was at a loss for words. He stared at the older man as if he were some strange kind of animal and wiped his hands dry on his jeans. How else could he have reacted to something like that? Could have said 'thanks' or he could simply pretend he'd never heard it and latch onto the 'do a shot together' part.
"Yeah, sure." When hell froze over and pink rabbits ruled the world maybe. The musician shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "If ya need a break from the pompous asses out there, just look for somethin' blue. Never had a drink with a bathroom police officer before." Flashing Isshin a toothy grin, he strutted past him towards the door. Bathroom exit take 2.
Characters: Grimmjow (formative), Isshin (lotus_seed)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A musical encounter between Grimm and Isshin in the john...
The downside of beer was that it really got your kidneys and bladder working. Grimmjow pushed the door to the men's room open and found it much less crowded than he'd expected which suited him just fine.
He liked some peace and quiet for this kind of business. Stepping towards the urinals, he unzipped his pants and placed a hand against the wall.
Seconds after, Isshin breezed into the men's room, humming a song under his breath. He set his drink on the sink counter and assumed the position in front of an open urinal, whistling what sounded like "Highway to Hell".
Whistling? In the men's room of all places and right next to him, of course. What the fuck was wrong with the world? Casting a sideways glance at Isshin, Grimmjow frowned.
"Dude, you mind?" he snapped.
Isshin couldn't figure out what the problem was. He broke the first commandment of men's room etiquette - and how the hell could he not when this guy broke the second one by talking to him while they were both holding their dicks - and made eye contact.
"What?" then he recognized the man as a member of the Arrancar - he had met them a few times before, when they came in to the office for a photoshoot. Isshin grinned. "Hey, I'm glad you could make it to the party tonight."
All Grimmjow wanted was to take a leak and then get out to enjoy the party but this guy didn't get it, did he? First whistling and now talking - it was annoying beyond belief.
He was glad the musician could make it to the party? Was he supposed to know this old guy?
"I'd be glad, too, if I could just take a piss and actually be at the party instead of makin' small talk with ya over our dicks, man."
Isshin couldn't figure out what this guy's problem was. If he wanted to pee so bad, why'd he strike up a conversation? And If he thought he could act this way because he was some bass player, well Isshin wasn't about to let that pass, either.
"Well then pee, dammit, and quit being an ass!" he snapped, then turned back to the task at hand, too irritated to whistle an actual tune.
"That's what I'm trying to do and I'd be finished by now if ya could shut up for a second!" Grimmjow snapped back. This whole situation was ridiculous and somewhere in the back of his head he knew that he was being irrational and childish but if one's bladder was about to burst, rationality tended to take a step back.
Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the noise Isshin was making and
concentrated on the issue at hand. "STOP THE WHEEZING!"
Isshin flushed and started zipping up his fly. "Well if ya wanted me to stop whistling, then you should said so! - and what's wrong with it anyway? It helps ya go!"
Especially when you have to share the can with someone as goddamn annoying as this guy... Isshin scowled as he turned on the tap and lathered up his hands.
"Only if you're a fucking five-year-old!" Grimmjow sneered at Isshin before he too, finally, finished what he came here to do. A small relieved sigh escaped him as he shook twice and zipped his pants up.
The musician flushed and strode past the older man at the basins without sparing him another glance, hands tucked away in his pockets.
Now THAT was more than Isshin could deal with. Unwashed hands... and a buffet table?!
"HEY!" he roared, completely outraged and oblivious to how juvenile this fight was, "WASH YOUR HANDS, DAMMIT!"
On any other day, Grimmjow would have flipped Isshin the bird and walked out. However, given their - albeit short yet intense - history, he couldn't and wouldn't take this kind of treatment from the other man. He turned around on the spot and prowled towards Isshin, hands balled into fists in his pockets.
“What the fuck is your problem, old man?” the bassist growled.
"My problem," Isshin growled as he shut off the tap and swiped a couple paper towels to dry his hands with, "is that there are a shitload of people out there that your and my careers depend on, and you're gonna head out there with your dirty hands to the buffet table, and probably give them all the runs. IT AIN'T COOL, GRIMM."
Isshin stepped away from the sink and motioned for the musician to lather up.
It finally clicked. This guy was the host of the party and thus head honcho of that magazine. Grimmjow glared at Isshin as he stepped towards the basin.
"For the record: I keep a very clean penis," he growled, "’n this is just so you can't blame shit on me if the crowd starts barfing." Which would happen sooner or later considering the 'open bar'. He rubbed his hands under the spray of water furiously.
"There, happy now?" The Arrancar held up his hands and shook them, sending drops of water flying in the process.
Isshin's scowl softened - the rockstar had, after all, washed his hands. "Yanno, the paper towels are free, but yeah - thanks, huh?"
And just as quickly as the scuffle started, it was stopped, for Isshin, anyway. He chuckled at the "clean penis" comment. "Alright man, maybe we'll do a shot together or somethin' - and I won't whistle around your clean penis anymore."
Not whistle around... That statement coming from Isshin was wrong on so many levels that Grimmjow was at a loss for words. He stared at the older man as if he were some strange kind of animal and wiped his hands dry on his jeans. How else could he have reacted to something like that? Could have said 'thanks' or he could simply pretend he'd never heard it and latch onto the 'do a shot together' part.
"Yeah, sure." When hell froze over and pink rabbits ruled the world maybe. The musician shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "If ya need a break from the pompous asses out there, just look for somethin' blue. Never had a drink with a bathroom police officer before." Flashing Isshin a toothy grin, he strutted past him towards the door. Bathroom exit take 2.