Angry at the World - Chapter 2 - After
Title: Angry at the World
Pairing: Grimmjow x Ichigo (Other relationships included)
Summary: After a confrontation, Grimmjow's fascination with Kurosaki Ichigo takes control. There seems to be more than just lust, but damaged connections grow with difficulty.
Disclaimer: Bleach and all it's characters belong to Kubo Tite. I do not endorse rape, violence, or sex with minors. This story and it's original characters belong to me. This story contains male sex, violence, explicit language, and angst. If this will offend you or you are not above eighteen, don't read!
Notes: WIP. This story was originally posted on Adultfanfiction.net
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Chapter 2: After
Grimmjow fucking Jeagerjacques. Sexte Espada. Arrancar. Monster. Jailer. Murderer. Blessed relief. Ichigo sobbed until there was no emotion left in his body. He cried out in rage until his voice was gone. His hands beat against the solid chest that encased him until he was too tired to move. And then, with nothing left, he gripped that white jacket so tightly that when disarmingly gentle fingers removed his hands, his fingers cramped and refused to relax.
“They’ll be findin’ ya soon, Kurosaki.” Would they? Did it matter? He felt so numb. “Kurosaki.” He heard the voice insist. “Lookit me punk!” Grimmjow growled and pulled him close to his face by the hakama. Instead of fear, he felt overwhelming relief. The man had taken everything from him. It felt good.
“You’re going,” Ichigo said it blankly.
“I’ll find ya again,” he replied just as simply. Ichigo couldn’t decide how much hate he had for the prospect. When he didn’t answer, Grimmjow spoke again. “Try to fight me next time. Gimme some reaI fun,” he paused. “I know you got your pride. Ya don’t want to face ‘em, do ya?” He held up his fist to illustrate his meaning. Ichigo nodded. The Espada grinned. “See ya, fairy,” He raised that gentle and sinful hand, and smashed it against Kurosaki’s temple.
~
Ichigo groaned weakly. Dammit. Nothing was worse than letting people know he was hurt. There had hardly been a glimmer of pain before goddamn Jeagerjacques had punched him, but now the fire roared its ugly head, throbbing in the bruise on his temple. It wasn’t fair. But that was stupid. Something that had occurred that night should have destroyed the idea of a fair life already. He should know better. Should. Dimly, he realized he was being carried. He wouldn’t hurt so much if he were still. His vision was still full of grey clouds and stars, and every jar of the person’s gait wrought havoc in his wounds and head. He let out a small grunt of pain, and they stopped.
“Ichigo?” A deep voice asked. It rumbled with concern. Renji. …But Abarai Renji didn’t feel concern when Kurosaki Ichigo got hurt. He usually thought it was funny. Grimmjow must have really done something to his head. The substitute Shinigami opened his mouth to bite at his red-haired counterpart, and yell at him and say hey, you should see the other fucker. To convince him and everyone else, as usual, that he was just fine and ready to keep fighting for them.
He felt humiliated as the words died on his tongue.
“Everything hurts,” he rasped quietly. Renji’s steps resumed, this time with a sense of urgency.
“Don’t worry, we’re almost at Urahara’s,” he said a little too loudly, and Ichigo winced. Where had all his sense of self gone? Out with the screams. “Let the whole goddamn world know, kid.” He felt a shiver crawl down his body at the memory of his voice, the memory of the night. Why had his words…felt right? Why had he said them at all? And why in the name of God had he let Grimmjow hold him? What a disgusting bastard. His hands crawling all over Ichigo, touching, exploring, stimulating. He could feel it all over again. Hot kisses and painful bites broiling against his neck, sharp nails raking chest, those hands rubbing him without any consent. Teal hair, terrible eyes. Ichigo’s breath and heart raced, and his stomach roiled. He pounded on Renji’s chest to tell him to stop, before twisting out of his arms to fall to the ground. “Ichigo, what the hell’re you doing?!“ Vomit splashed against the ground. “…Oh.” How fucking eloquent of him. He heaved again, and coughed and hacked. “Shit, Rukia’s gonna kill me,” he heard Renji mumble, and he hauled Ichigo up into a fireman’s carry. There were no angry words from the normally caustic strawberry. He hoped Renji would drop him soon. Drop him and cover him with something, so no one else would see he was a coward.
~
He woke up to the feeling of a warm, wet cloth wiping his face. He opened his eyes expecting to see Inoue or perhaps Rukia. He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing Urahara and his stupid hat.
“Ah, Kurosaki-kun! You’ve decided to awaken!” He said with a smile. At least someone was acting normal. Annoyingly normal.
“Ichigo!” Rukia peered over at him, some emotion concealed behind her eyes. He moved to get up and winced.
“No healing?”He asked, his voice still harsh from screaming. It wasn’t that he cared about the pain, not at the moment. But he couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up without his wounds being healed, and maybe something was wrong with Inoue. He was looking at Rukia when he asked, but Urahara graciously nudged her aside and answered the question instead. His laughing eyes settled into his more reserved, and unnerving, stare.
“Well, Kurosaki-kun… We did not think you would like to see Miss Orihime in your current condition. Nor anyone else from Soul Society,” he said levelly. Ichigo felt his mouth run dry. He knew. Rukia must know. Maybe…Maybe Renji had been too dense to notice. Urahara seemed to pick up on his thoughts. “I have asked Abarai-kun to stay outside of the room, but even he will piece things together eventually. He knows something in your fight went very, very wrong.” He had nothing he could say to that. His eyes deadened, and he looked away. He heard a choked noise from Rukia.
-
She had not been surprised when Renji had walked in carrying Ichigo. She had felt his reiatsu struggle and dim, and he had always been foolhardy. She was thankful he was alive. But she had been surprised when Urahara had appeared immediately and with purpose, taking the substitute Shinigami from Renji’s arms with a polite smile and no-nonsense eyes, asking him to leave. What disturbed her were the traces of vomit around his mouth and on the sleeve of his hakama. Terrible wounds and bloody lines across his chest. Bites and bruises around his neck. What could have happened? Urahara glanced back at her and she followed with a start, her heart beginning to pound. The boy she had given her powers to had always held a special place in her heart for his recklessness in battle and hidden consideration, his temper, and not least of all his uncanny resemblance to Kaien-dono.
“Rukia-chan, please help me bandage Kurosaki’s wounds,” the manager asked as he placed him on a mat on the floor.
“Shouldn’t I run for Inoue?” She asked as she knelt down next to Ichigo.
“No,” he replied. “I do not think Kurosaki-kun would…appreciate us allowing Miss Orihime to see him. Or anyone else,” he didn’t elaborate on why, but as Urahara undressed him, her stomach sunk like a stone. She worked without speaking. She didn’t want to think about it.
Ichigo was so strong. He fought to protect. That was what she was afraid would hurt him most. He thought he always needed to be strong, and he couldn’t be. He couldn’t have been made any weaker. She wrapped gauze and bandages loosely around his neck, covering the marks. No one else needed to know. She would protect his shame from the others.
“Thank you, Rukia-chan,” was whispered into her ear. “You can leave him be now.” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, before sitting back on his heels. She nodded and left his side to sit against a wall. If he awoke, she wanted a moment before she would be seen. She buried her face in her knees and kept her tears silent. Sometime later she heard Urahara speak again. “Ah, Kurosaki-kun! You’ve decided to awaken!” He said with a smile.
“Ichigo!” She ran her sleeve across her eyes and quickly stood over him. Confused brandy eyes met hers. He struggled to sit up and seemed surprised.
“No healing?” He asked. Her eyes widened. His voice was grating, as if he’d screamed at the top of his lungs for a very long time. She heard Urahara respond, but she wasn’t paying attention. She just watched those powerful brown eyes deaden and lose their spark. They were worse than her brother’s now. She made a noise that died in her throat. Damn him for making her care.
“Ichigo… How did this happen?“ she thought it was a simple question, but it made Ichigo scream. He sat up and struggled to his feet.
“I can’t always be the best! I can’t always protect everyone! Why is it so hard to believe that for once…for once the enemy was stronger!? …It doesn’t even make sense! Why aren’t the captains fighting the arrancar!? Why is it me!?” His eyes were looking manic now.
“You baka, I didn’t mean it like that!”She cried.
“Kurosaki-kun, perhaps it is time to calm down,” Urahara’s serious eyes were hard to ignore.
“Fuck all of you! Of course you wouldn’t fucking know!” He whirled around to walk out. He limped straight into Renji.
“What the hell are you doing, yelling at everyone who just saved your ass?” He growled.
“Shut the fuck up!” He replied with a punch that Renji easily caught. He let out a cry of outrage and a pulse of reiatsu that sent Renji stumbling back a few steps, enough for him to walk past him. It was obvious however, that he couldn’t walk well, and after a few steps he fell to his knees. Urahara pulled her back before she could walk to him.
“Please go to another room, Rukia-chan, before you lose your temper and make the situation worse.” The request made her feel like screaming too, but with one last look at the forlorn substitute shinigami, she left.
~
Was it Renji who gently pulled him into his arms? His rage and pain was blinding him; he was so tired. Mumbles of conversation were in the background. One voice rumbled against his back, close to his ear. The other was lighter, further away.
“We’ll take care of you this time, Ichigo,” he said. Take care of? He was Kurosaki Ichigo. Captain class shinigami at the very least. He didn’t need taking care of. He struggled to say it. “Just shut up for once. I been doin this job way longer ‘an you, and it still gets to me sometimes. Shit happens, ‘n sometimes we break. So quit hatin’ us for makin’ you work and yourself for wantin’ to work, and just relax for once.”
“Leave it to you to make sense when I feel like beatin’ the shit out of you,” he croaked back.
“Payback for you beatin’ the shit out of me,” he replied. Damn him. “…You wanna talk about it?” he asked, not a little awkwardly. If he’d had more energy he might have laughed at the attempt, but instead he just took the inquiry seriously. “Maybe you should, even if you don’t wanna… Y’know, bleed out the poison,” he said softly.
“…Too soon,” he said weakly.
“Man, you scare me when you’re so tired… “ He felt his fingers gently trace his cheek and stay there. Renji’s fingers were unexpectedly soft; he’d expected harsh calluses. The comfort he was beginning to feel made anger bubble up unreasonably within him.
“Stop…Stop making me…” He gritted his teeth, trying to let out what he felt. His heart hurt so badly and when Renji was being so strangely kind-He couldn’t help the tears that started to drip from his eyes. “Stop it, it hurts,” he begged, grabbing onto Renji’s haori with one hand. “Just stop.” He saw Renji swallow his words several times before pulling him in close. There he stayed, and sobbed, praying for the pain to stop.
Chapter 1: Angry at the World