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Summary:

Ichigo was not expecting that the fancy street where his flower shop located would get a tattoo parlor next door. That was completely out of the place.
Grimmjow wasn't expecting to come along with the florist next door. Ichigo Kuro-something. Whatever. It didn't matter. He wouldn't bother to learn his name because the florist would never learn his monstrous surname either.
Now, if only Nelliel stopped running between the two stores and trying to get them come along...

Notes:

This prompt was precious to me. I have worked in a tattoo shop and I collect tattoos. The parlor I use is called The Flower Shop because the tattoo parlor's owner didn't know if she wanted to establish a tattoo or a flower shop. So she ended up establishing a very fancy tattoo parlor that looks like a flower shop. They have over 100 plants in the studio. You can see some photos from the tattoo parlor here and here.

This fic is not beta read. I have done my best to find all error as someone who is not native in English. Please accept my apologies!
This is my first Grimmichi fic. I'm not super deep into the ship but I like both characters. This was a positive challenge to write :3 I see Grimmjow as someone who warms up very slowly only for a few selected people but once you get under his skin, he's very loyal. But keeps his independent distance nevertheless.

I wish all Grimmichi fans Happy Holidays and a special warm wishes to my Secret Santa giftee NoctisXit!

 

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

The old self-service laundry was getting a new life. A loud new life. That’s what Ichigo thought when the renovation just next door to his flower shop started. He did his best to keep the atmosphere in his shop welcoming and calm despite the noises of saws, circular saws, hammers, and something which made loud beeping sounds. The ruckus carried over through the walls to scare his customers and his poor flowers. He was sure one of the cactus he had in his shop for its decoration was especially miffed about this all, as it didn’t bloom this year like it usually did. Ichigo could only wish and wait for the best. The renovation wouldn’t hopefully last for too long and the shop opening next door might bring him more customers, too. At least it would be better than a self-service laundry. Walking past the renovation site after closing his shop Ichigo hoped the new business next doors would be a café. But, as days passed, it was clearer and clearer the place wouldn’t be a café. Or a restaurant. Or a real estate business, an accounting, a nail studio, or a new yoga spot. To Ichigo’s horror the new business next door transformed from a rundown laundry to a shiny tattoo parlor. A tattoo parlor?! In this area?! Unacceptable! What would the other businesses on this street think about this? Ichigo himself was sure that having a tattoo shop next door wouldn’t bring him any new customers.

So much for that wish.

Karin, who helped Ichigo out in the flower shop a few days a week, saw her brother’s brooding look one afternoon right after they had prepared the weekly flower shipment to widowed Mrs. Hamada with the fanciest roses and lilies and peonies they could find from their store.

“I never took you as such a sore, judgmental person, brother.”

“I’m not judging anyone or anything,” Ichigo sighed, continuing wiping the floors clean.

“You can’t lie to me with that face. You wanted the new place to be a café, restaurant or a yoga studio with lots of new potential customers,” Karin simply noted, ignoring Ichigo’s surprised quack for being caught like that. “I saw the guy who owns that place yesterday.”

“Really? You know him?”

Karin shook her head.

“Nah, just crossed his path when I left here. I saw him going into the shop, so I know it’s him. He’s this tall guy with light blue messy hair and lots of tattoos. He had one on his face, too.”

Ichigo didn’t like how that sounded. Facial tattoos were extreme, so the guy probably meant only problems for this peaceful street.

“He didn’t look too friendly,” Karin continued nonchalantly, ignoring Ichigo's groan of protest. “I wonder why he decided to land here… This is a fancy street, nothing that would scream ‘Tattoo Shops Here, Come Get Yourself Hurt With a Needle!’”

“Who’s being judgmental now?” Ichigo grinned. Karin’s nose wrinkled.

“Just saying.”

“You should say hi to him,” Karin said, checking if the bouquets had enough water in the cooler. “You know, make him feel a bit more welcomed here. He’s out of his ordinary circles, surrounded by our fancy flower shop and all the high-class cafés, highly rated restaurants, suit shops and wedding dress boutiques.”

“Why me?” Ichigo protested, a bit too dramatically for Karin’s amusement. She couldn’t believe he was an adult already based on how he behaved at times.

“You’re neighbors,” Karin shrugged. “And you have a good heart. I know you wouldn’t be able to stand it if you noticed he was being left alone by everyone else running their businesses nearby.”

As Karin had calculated, Ichigo couldn’t argue against that. He raked his orange hair with his fingers, mulling with audible huff and grunts what Karin had just said.

“Fine. I’ll say hi to him when he opens his business.”

 


 

Grimmjow’s first impression of the next door’s flower shop owner was a wuss. He had annoying orange hair, an annoying too friendly smile glued on his face and he brought him some flowers like he would be a dainty woman in need of some comforting gifts. On top of all, he had a stupid name, too: Ichigo. Kuro-something. Grimmjow had already forgotten it but no matter – the new neighbor would forget his name, too. They always did. They paled when they heard his full name: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. A proper tongue twister for Japanese folk. Grimmjow couldn’t remember all the different variations of his name he had encountered over the years.

“I’m a bit surprised a tattoo artist decides to open their business on this street,” Ichigo said politely, trying to break the uncomfortable silence between them. Grimmjow stood in front of him, holding the flowers like an idiot.

“This place is haunted so I got it cheap,” Grimmjow replied casually.

“H—Haunted?”

“Probably all the lost socks,” Grimmjow continued calmly without blinking his eyes. Mentally he was enjoying the confusion on the sissy’s face when he mulled if Grimmjow was being serious or not. He had to give this Ichigo-Kuro-Something some credit for getting his face back to a normal expression so quickly. Actually, it turned into a warm grin.

“Let’s hope they won’t mess with your machinery then,” he wished. Grimmjow grinned.

“I don’t like to be disturbed. The less people here bother me, the better.”

Grimmjow saw that the orange haired new guy took the hint.

“Sure. Leave the artist to express themselves in peace. If you need something, though, I’m just behind the wall.”

“Sure”, Grimmjow nodded and with that, the new neighbor was gone, disappearing into his own shop between the tall displays of different potted plants. Grimmjow looked at the flowers in his hand and tossed them at a surprised woman walking by, telling they were for her. He left the confused woman to stammer something on the street and withdrew back to his studio to make final adjustments for tomorrow’s opening.

Perhaps this location was a mistake after all.

 


 

Yeah. It was sure now:

Ichigo really didn’t like his new neighbor. He was creepy and rude. Ichigo had always been good at reading atmospheres and people – something which helped him in his job, especially with clients who had lost someone and needed flowers for the funeral. Now, Ichigo’s senses said that this new tattoo guy was a bad thing.

It was better if he indeed left Grimmjow Jaejae-something-something-ez alone.

 


 

First two months went fine. Ichigo tended his shop and cared for his customers, and Grimmjow concentrated on his job with his coworkers. Ichigo learned that Nelliel was indeed a genuinely nice young woman despite her wild green hair, tattoos, and her habit to draw a green line across her face. He never dared to ask why it was so but Ichigo concluded that artists were indeed an odd bunch of people, no matter what their medium was. Nelliel often bought flowers from Ichigo’s shop to the tattoo studio – so often that Grimmjow came to complain to Ichigo that he shouldn’t sell anything green to Nelliel or otherwise he would get very, very pissed. Somehow this conversation reached Nelliel’s ears and it was her turn to come to Ichigo and apologize, saying that Grimmjow was a party pooper and Ichigo shouldn’t listen to him because it was she who bought the flowers. During this conversation Ichigo learned that the reason Nelliel and Grimmjow seemed to picker a lot was because they were childhood friends. Practically like a brother and a sister.

Bazz, a man with a red mohawk, was a visiting artist, who traveled from a studio to another to his clients instead of settling into one location. Ichigo sometimes got a glimpse of him but so far, he hadn’t gotten a chance to speak with Bazz. Nelliel, who had a bright habit of coming to greet Ichigo every morning, told Ichigo that Bazz was a good guy, too. Very lively owner of a parrot named Yuki and excellent at bowling.

The fourth tattoo artist and the permanent resident of the next door’s Panther Ink was quiet and composed Ulquiorra. He usually nodded quietly under his heavy make-up if he came across Ichigo and he seemed not to mind that Nelliel carried flowers after flowers from Ichigo’s shop to theirs. When Ichigo asked about Ulquiorra from Nelliel, she said he was friends of hers and Grimmjow from a long time, too, but that he would be a bit hard to get to know because Ulquirra protected his privacy. Ichigo was fine with that – he hadn’t planned on befriending any of the tattoo shop people after all. Though Nelliel made that promise really difficult with her behavior and natural radiance, which also captured Karin’s attention, but Ichigo mulled that one exception in this would be fine.

Ichigo didn’t visit the Panther Ink and when Nelliel inquired why – after all, Ichigo was always welcomed in – Ichigo told that Grimmjow had made it clear he wished Ichigo not to mess with him at all. It earned a hearty laugh from Nelliel, her hand waving in the air as she explained Grimmy was just a grumpy asshole on the outside but nice when you got through his thick outer shell and learned to read his indirect acts of care and friendship.

“He yells at you because he cares,” Nelliel winked her eye, like it was the most obvious thing about Grimmjow.

Ichigo didn’t know why Nelliel was so open to talk about each of the tattoo artists. She spoke pretty much about anything Ichigo would come up – Karin suggested that maybe she had a crush on Ichigo. Horrified, Ichigo shot that stupid grin on Karin’s face down with an angry hiss.

Though Ichigo couldn’t lie; he liked to get to know his neighbors via Nelliel’s visits. He was able to learn more about Grimmjow, too, though Nelliel often said Ichigo should just go to speak with Grimmy – as she preferred him – because he was kind a lot of a bark and brimstone, but he wasn’t a senseless brute as people often mistook him as. Nelliel always pictured Grimmjow to Ichigo like a big feline with a similar territorial and distant behavior.

Suddenly it made sense why the parlor was called Panther Ink.

 


 

“Nelliel, you’ve been snooping on our neighbor again,” Grimmjow muttered half-annoyed while putting tattoo machines in the autoclave for cleaning. Nelliel, who was finishing the work on the last customer of the day – a woman named Matsumoto -  just hummed.

“That’s mean. I’m not snooping on anyone.”

“Don’t lie to me, woman. What are you up to?”

“Nothing, nothing! Can’t I get more familiar with our next-door neighbor? He’s a good guy and his sister is a little firecracker.”

“We have enough good guys here. We don’t need more. Besides, you’re disturbing his work,” Grimmjow continued his grumpy muttering, leaning against the counter and crossing his tattooed arms over his chest, where a heavy scar ran from his navel up to his neck, peeking through his low-cut black onesie.

“I know you are cautious because of what happened, and he looks a bit like that guy but---” Nelliel said but Grimmjow’s audible growl cut her off.

“Shut up. And stop bringing any more plants here. This place is like a jungle,” Grimmjow spat, walking away into the staff’s room. Nelliel offered Matsumoto a small smile.

“Men! They really don’t understand the wonders of flowers and plants.”

“I know, right! My boyfriend complains about me buying too many plants, too,” Matsumoto breathed out in a dramatic gasp, both of the women laughing then in unison.

In the staff’s room, Grimmjow wasn’t laughing.

How did Nelliel dare to bring that incident up now? He didn’t need more reminders of it. His sides still ached, years afterwards. He had almost lost his ability to draw and tattoo. It was only because he was too stubborn to give up that he now owned the Panther Ink.

She had no need to bring up the thing he had noticed too; that the flower shop owner looked too much like that asshole.

Grimmjow wanted to punch the wall but decided otherwise as the idea of repainting the wall didn’t really please him.

As long as he stayed away from that Kuro-something, all would be good.

 


 

Grimmjow didn’t know what it was that made everyone like the Kuro-guy so much. Nelliel had befriended him and his sister a bit too well. Bazz immediately got along with Ichigo, praising him to Grimmjow the very next day they had met the first time with Ichigo – apparently Bazz had taken Ichigo’s offer to show some good places in this area which was still unfamiliar for Bazz, who lived on the other side of Tokyo. They had had so much fun – according to Bazz at least – that the mohawk man just couldn’t shut his mouth the whole day about Ichigo.

Yeah. Ichigo. That’s what his name was. Grimmjow had heard it coming from Bazz’s mouth so many times already that if he didn’t know Bazz was being taken already, he could have sworn that Bazz had gotten a crush on Ichigo. Perhaps he did.

Even the fucking Ice Goth King Ulquoirra himself seemed not to mind changing a few words with Ichigo if they happened to come across one another in the front of their shops. Somehow that bastard had even gotten so soft that he had spoken to Ichigo about his bad luck with women and Ichigo had – according to Ulquiorra at least – promised to introduce him to this woman he knew. Something about princesses and orange long hair and clumsy cooking skills. Grimmjow hadn’t really listened to Ulquiorra’s explanation which probably stemmed from excitement based on how much he suddenly spoke, though his poker Ice King face never melted. Nelliel had been screaming that this blind date of Ulquiorra’s was a good idea and dragged Grimmjow also in to give his opinion about the matter. Grimmjow had just wished them both to fuck off.

“You should really give Ichigo a chance,” Bazz beamed while taking a break between clients, drinking from his heavy bottle of something Grimmjow hoped would have been bubble tea. He wanted some bubble tea now.

“I don’t have any need to befriend him,” Grimmjow slowly replied, going through his appointment list to reply to a client via email.

“Come on! He’s fun! He’s got a good heart, I can tell! I have good people skills, you know. He even seems to know nice single girls, you know.”

Grimmjow’s deadpan face rose from his phone to look at Bazz with a very, very unimpressed expression.

“Not interested.”

“Man, you seriously can’t say that,” Bazz whined like an annoying little brother. “You’ve been single so long you---”

“Not. A. Word.” Grimmjow's sharp growl cut Bazz off immediately, his nose wrinkling and eyebrows knitting together. His private life was private, and he needed no one. He was an independent business owner and busy as shit with everything. The least he needed was someone whining like Bazz waiting for him after work to spend time with him and cry into his phone when Grimmjow wanted to sleep late on Sundays and after waking up watch wrestling in his boxers with a big plate of okonomiyaki and cold beer.

“Well, I heard the florist is a single man, too” Nelliel put in with a sing-song tone from her working spot.

Grimmjow pretended he didn’t hear that

 


 

Yuzu arrived from Sendai for a quick weekend visit at her childhood home. Somehow her visitation turned into a bowling night with Ichigo and Karin after a good long Saturday day with shopping and eating out first. While Tokyo was a gigantic metropolis, somehow the three artists from the Panther Ink happened to be at the same bowling place.

Nelliel’s face lit up when she saw Ichigo and Karin. And it didn’t take long from her to come up with the idea that they should have a bowling match: Girls vs Guys. Three on Three. 

“Too bad Bazz is not here. You’d be dead meat,” Grimmjow grinned widely as he started the bowling match. “You have to do it with me and that’s more than enough for you.”

The girls were up to the challenge. The match turned out much more entertaining than Grimmjow had thought when he noticed the neighbor business guy with his sisters coming in. Even Ulquiorra seemed to break a small smile at the corner of his mouth, but only a tiny one and for a second.

On the other hand, the bastard had been in a surprisingly jolly mood lately. Must have been that woman Ichigo had introduced to Ulquiorra… Grimmjow gave a sour look at Ulquiorra, who failed with his turn and the girls ended up winning.

“Pathetic,” Grimmjow spat at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra turned calmly around and shrugged in a barely visible manner.

“Not enough coffee in the system,” he murmured, heading then out from the room despite Grimmjow yelling after him. Nelliel broke the girls' bouncy victory group hug.

“Come on, ladies! Let’s follow Ulquiorra to the vending machine. I’ll buy you both a drink for our first victory from the boys.”

Karin and Yuzu didn’t need more coaxing.

Grimmjow wasn’t happy that he was left alone with Ichigo. He was about to get up and head to get something to drink, too, just to get away from the other guy, but Ichigo’s curious tone stopped him.

“I couldn’t help noticing your scar. Can I ask what’s the story behind it?”

Grimmjow looked down at his chest. Hmph. The guy was trying to have a small talk. Very well.

“Collided with a truck while driving a motorcycle,” he casually replied.

Ichigo’s eyes narrowed, his expression getting worried.

“Shit. They must have really patched you up judging from that,” Ichigo muttered, his eyes on Grimmjow’s chest.

Grimmjow was used to have people asking about his scar but it was not every day that another guy stared at your exposed chest with such intensity. He shifted in his seat, throwing his arms over the backrest of the sofa.

“Nelliel says I was in a coma for 2 months, but I don’t recall anything from the accident or the time after that. But it fucked up something in here,” Grimmjow said, squeezing his fingers into a fist. He opened his palm slowly. “Took me a really long time to get back to drawing. Almost didn’t make it. Doctors were able to save my left arm, but I heard it was a really close call. It was so fucked up. They almost had to amputate it. Sometimes it still doesn’t work the way it should.”

Why was he telling Ichigo all this?

“Yeah, I know how it is,” Ichigo nodded, turning to look in front of him. Grimmjow was surprised to see that Ichigo’s usual kind look had transformed into something gloomy.

“I was in a car accident with mom when I was little. I made it but she didn’t,” Ichigo swallowed, his eyes growing darker. “Karin remembers it, but Yuzu doesn’t. I still have nightmares from that evening.”

“Ah fuck! How did it--?”

“Hydroplaning. It was the rainy season,” Ichigo’s head turned slightly to Grimmjow with a tiny sad smile on his lips. Grimmjow expected Ichigo to tell more but when he didn’t, Grimmjow cleared his throat.

“And you?”

“I was unharmed. Just some bruises.” Ichigo’s tone was quiet. “Mother loved flowers. We always had fresh flowers at home. I remember them. She had flower pattern dresses, scarfs, and towels. I hated the flowery towels because they were too girly.”

Suddenly it made sense to Grimmjow why Ichigo would have a flower shop. It came from his heart, just like art and tattooing did for Grimmjow. There was… almost a sense of belonging. Sense of someone getting it. Someone who had also come across something sudden which almost destroyed them and took away something they loved.

Except, unlike with Grimmjow who had faced close calls only, Ichigo had lost something he loved.

“Shit… That’s… really fucked up.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Dad’s alive and has taken care of us. I’m sure mom’s happy wherever she is,” Ichigo waved Grimmjow’s attempt to comfort him away with his hand but Grimmjow knew he was lying. Of fucking course, it was not okay. But, if Ichigo wanted to pretend it was and make him believe that, too, Grimmjow would swallow it.

Better than the man crying in his lap when the girls came back.

He hated crying people anyway.

 


 

After their bowl evening, Grimmjow found himself thinking about the guy next door more and more. First, Ichigo’s face crossed his mind maybe once or twice a day when he recalled their chat. Then, his face was following Grimmjow to his home, to his bath, into his bed. Glimpses coming and going, pestering him. Grimmjow kept up his casual resting bitch face – the same Bazz complained about it scaring all women away – and nodded his greeting to Ichigo if they happened to arrive at their working places at the same time. It shouldn’t have surprised Grimmjow that one evening, when he was closing his shop and spotted Ichigo struggling with big boxes, that he would run out to help Ichigo. But it did. To Grimmjow’s horror, their eyes met when Grimmjow took a hold of the box pile that was about to tip over, and his stomach made an old jolt.

“Good catch,” Ichigo smirked, letting Grimmjow take two of the boxes. “Karin couldn’t come today so I’m a bit shorthanded.”

“Where do I put these?” Grimmjow asked, a bit surprised by the weight of the boxes.

“My car’s over there. I need to deliver these to a client. I have worked my ass off with these the whole frigging day! It was an emergency and she needed these for today and well, she’s a regular. Has lots of money. Couldn’t say no,” Ichigo kept speaking as he headed towards his card, Grimmjow following him.  

Somehow Grimmjow found himself getting in the car when Ichigo asked, sitting next to him like prompted and before he knew what had happened, they were standing inside of an old mansion with their flower boxes. Ichigo’s client was beaming with happiness when her order arrived.

“You took your boyfriend with you, how nice!” the old lady chirped at Ichigo, hands clasped over her expensive kimono’s belt.

Grimmjow’s face had a quick flash of murdering intent on it. Ichigo’s hand landed on his waist behind his back quickly.

“It’s good to have some help,” Ichigo smiled with a clearly fake grin on his face as a reply.

Grimmjow was sure his head would explode from the sheer rage. His heart was stammering like being chased. Ichigo dared to pat him and give him a side eye when the woman wasn’t looking and to Grimmjow’s surprise, Ichigo’s eyes silently said: “Shut up, play along or I’ll kill you.”

That was a side Grimmjow hadn’t seen or sensed in Ichigo.

Back at the car, Ichigo slammed his door shut and sighed.

“Sorry about that. Hamada-san is a handful at times.”

Grimmjow only snorted, leaning against his arm, and watching out from the window at the mansion’s front yard.

“It’s good you played along. It is best just to go with whatever Hamada-san comes up with,” Ichigo complimented Grimmjow, turning the car back to the main road. Grimmjow snorted again.

“Hmph. Whatever. I hate nosy grandmas anyway.”

“She doesn’t mean anything bad. Hamada-san is just very observant.”

Grimmjow’s head turned slightly to Ichigo.

“Didn’t seem too observant to me,” he muttered, uninterested.

“I meant that I’m into guys,” Ichigo sighed, ignoring how Grimmjow’s eyes widened slowly, so very slowly, at this revelation. “Don’t worry. You’re safe, though”, Ichigo added with a grin without taking his eyes from the road.

Grimmjow didn’t know what to say. This guy… His face and he….

“I hope it’s not an issue. I thought artists would be a bit more open minded---”

“I don’t care with whom you sleep with,” Grimmjow cut in, turning to look at the scenery passing by.

His chest was still warm from the rapid beating of his heart. The beating that had followed him since Ichigo showed him a glimpse of his fangs.

This was bad.

 


 

“Oh, I knew that he likes men,” Nelliel said between the sips of her morning coffee.

“You didn’t tell me,” Grimmjow growled against the edge of his own mug.

“I didn’t think you cared,” Nelliel smiled, her eyebrows cocking curiously. “I recall you saying you wanted to be left alone and that you specifically weren’t interested in our nice neighbor, Grimmy.”

“His face irks me,” Grimmjow spat but it didn’t sound or feel right in his mouth.

“Is it that bad?” Nelliel asked, her tone suddenly dropping. Grimmjow had to look at her worried face.

“Do I need to speak with him?” Nelliel asked again. “You told him all about the accident.”

“…He said I spoke about it?” Grimmjow finished his coffee and turned his back to Nelliel.

“Yeah.”

“…You speak a lot with him. You are nosy.”

Nelliel smiled again, shifting her weight to another leg.

“I’m just meddling a little bit there for your sake,” she replied, earning a murdering glare from Grimmjow over his shoulder. Her smile didn’t disappear.

“Stop. It’s annoying,” Grimmjow growled, leaving the staff room. At the same time as he left, Ulquiorra came in and Grimmjow ignored his nod of a head greeting. Ulquiorra went to get the last drops of the coffee from the pot, looking at the now closed door.

“The neighbor is bothering him,” Ulquiorra stated calmly, getting a knowing hum from Nelliel.

“I guess Grimmy never had a crush on anyone before. I almost feel sorry for him,” Nelliel sighed.

“A crush on someone who has a similar face…” Ulquiorra added, his eyes still on the closed door.

“Don’t say anything about the crush to Grimmy. He will not take it well.”

 



Bazz noticed something was off with Grimmjow.

He brought up, as a joke, a possibility that Grimmjow’s mind was wandering because he had a crush on someone.

Bazz got a painful bruise from Grimmjow punching his upper arm with an angry growl.

 


The bedroom felt awfully small and cold this night and his body was aching more than usual. Grimmjow was tormented by Ichigo’s face and the other face that looked way too much like his.

He pondered if Ichigo had spotted something, like Nel? She was annoyingly sharp and read him like an open book, as much as Grimmjow tried to hide this or that from her. Grimmjow didn’t know if he wanted Ichigo to notice or not. Both options felt good and tormenting at the same time.

If Ichigo noticed him and his stares, would he reply positively to him? If Ichigo did notice and accepted Grimmjow’s attention openly, could Grimmjow really give Ichigo what he wanted and needed? Whatever that was. Could Ichigo really accept him as he was, as Grimmjow knew he was a handful to put it lightly. Rare were the people who were able to handle his natural intensity.

If Ichigo didn’t notice Grimmjow, would he feel regret later that he didn’t take this change and approach the guy? He was into men anyway and Grimmjow himself had never cared about the gender of his partner – not that he would have been looking for anyone. Majority of the people didn’t interest him in the slightest. They were boring, annoying, too lame, too loud, too clingy or couldn’t keep up with Grimmjow.

But Ichigo? He might. He might be able to keep up with him. Grimmjow had seen a glimpse of that when Ichigo had glared at him in the Hamada’s living room. The beating of his heart hadn’t slowed down since then and Grimmjow had had to admit that it wasn’t just adrenaline of excitement to find someone possibly as hot-headed as he was. It was something else. Something that had made Nelliel grin and poke his cheek cooing that Grimmy had an obvious crush on Ichigo.

And yet, at the back of Grimmjow’s head, another face loomed. A face that had caused him lots of pain.

It felt complicated. To have a replica of the painful face in front of him with different colors and this new face was sparking something warm and fast in Grimmjow.

“For fuck’s sake!” Grimmjow facepalmed himself, hating the fact that he probably had to face this dilemma instead of trying to forget it.

 


 

“I haven’t seen Grimmjow in a while. Is he okay?”

Ulquiorra wasn’t expecting Ichigo to bring that question up when he was fetching some flowers from Ichigo to the woman he had hooked Ulquiorra up with. Ulquiorra’s lips pressed tighter together.

“Does he visit here often?” he counter asked.

Ichigo’s brown knit together.

“No, but we usually end up seeing each other either in the morning or when our stores close. I haven’t spotted him for a while, so I was just wondering---”

“He’s fine. In an annoying state to us all with his growls and barks, but he’ll live,” Ulquiorra replied. “He just doesn’t seem to like your face.”

Ichigo got immediately offended. He leaned over the counter to hiss at Ulquiorra so that other clients in the shop couldn’t hear him.

“What the hell is wrong with my face?”

Ulquiorra’s expression remained the same.

“You look like the guy who drove over him,” Ulquiorra said quietly, his eyes keenly on Ichigo.

Ichigo backed down, his lips parting slowly.

“I guess he’s confused to have a nice face that looks like a bad face,” Ulquiorra added casually, lifting the bouquet from the table. “Thank you for your business, Kurosaki-san. I’m sure Inoue-san will be happy with your recommended flowers.”

“Ah…. Ah, she will!” Ichigo composed himself, straightening his back. “I’ve known her for a long time so I’m pretty confident I know her taste. If she’s unhappy with those, you’ll get your money back.”

“I’ll remember that, Kurosaki-san,” Ulquiorra said, his tone such that Ichigo didn’t know was he happy or was Ulquiorra saying that he would demand Ichigo to keep his promises.

Ulquiorra’s words haunted Ichigo. It was hard to concentrate on work.

It had to be the same guy. It had to be the man Ichigo knew. The same truck driver who had passed away from the collision, because he threw out from the window headfirst.

He needed to speak with Grimmjow.

 


 

“So, what is it? If you want a tattoo my appointments aren’t open this late,” Grimmjow murmured, tossing soda to Ichigo’s lap at the Panther Ink. The shop was closed, and everyone had left home but for some reason Ichigo had insisted they should meet. It was a blessing that Ichigo missed Nelliel’s knowingly smug grin behind his back but Grimmjow would strangle her for that later.

“I just remembered something,” Ichigo said, intentionally leaving some details out. “About your accident. When did it happen?”

“Five years ago,” Grimmjow muttered, dropping on the couch next to Ichigo.

“I knew it!” Ichigo hissed, fumbling with his soda can. His brows were knit so deeply together Grimmjow thought it was going to leave a permanent line on his forehead.

“What?” Grimmjow asked, taking a first sip from his drink.

“Five years ago, we had a client at dad’s private clinic. This man, who had collided with a motorcycle and thrown it out the window. He was in bad shape. Dad did his best, but it didn’t help. He died.”

“And what makes you think it’s related to me?”

“Accidents like that are rare. I never saw the man who drove a motorcycle as he was taken to a public hospital but this guy… This man, who was taken to dad’s clinic because his family has been using dad’s services since the guy who died was born… He looked like me.”

Grimmjow’s eyes shot open, his hand stopping lifting the soda can in the air. His head turned slowly to Ichigo, lips part.

“Everyone was shocked how much he looked like me. Shiba Kaien. That was his name.”

“You….” Grimmjow swallowed. Then, anger rose from his throat. He growled, dropping his can on the floor as his hand flew at Ichigo’s collar.

“How the hell you know this all? How the hell do you know to come to speak about this to me?! Who told you?!”

“I noticed something was wrong. You were avoiding me,” Ichigo replied, his eyes serious, taking in Grimmjow’s intense flaring at ease. “Sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll make sure you don’t see my face anymore.”

Grimmjow inspected Ichigo’s serious stare. He stood up, tossing Ichigo backward and growled.

“I’m not that fucking weak!” he hissed, waving his arms in the air in an animated manner. “If I wanted to get rid of your face, I'd have taken care of it already by myself.”

“…Yeah, I can imagine,” Ichigo muttered, his chin lowering. “Still, I don’t want to cause you pain. Not to you or anyone else. After mom died I---”

“Shut up! We’re not having this conversation!” Grimmjow roared, his head coming in front of Ichigo so fast they almost collided their noses together. “I don’t need your pity. Just keep living your life as you have so far, and I will continue mine the same manner.”

Ichigo was taken back by Grimmjow’s act. Then, his expression melted. Ichigo chuckled, relaxing.

“Yeah. I never took you as someone weak. You’re strong. You came out alive from something like that which killed someone else. You rehabilitated yourself, learned to draw again. Opened this studio in an area where rents are high. You’re a survivor.”

Grimmjow noticed how Ichigo’s tender glare fell on his huge scar. He hoped the jolt in his stomach wouldn’t rise up to his cheek.

“You’re not that bad either,” Grimmjow muttered, taking a seat. He had his head turned away from Ichigo, fingers tapping together. “You lost your mom and came out alive from something which… Well, you know.”

“Yeah. I was lucky. You were, too.”

Grimmjow couldn’t help another jolt running through his body by the way Ichigo’s voice sounded when he said that. He was tender and caring. Clearly someone who believed in others and saw the best in them.

He wasn't like the bad face.

“Do you have nightmares, too?” Ichigo asked.

“I fucking hate nightmares.”

“I guess they might never end.”

There was a common sense of understanding and a weird sense of belonging in the quiet room.

 


 

Nelliel had to try her best, dear lord, did she really have to try not to burst in giggles. Grimmjow was so deep. So deep in the deep end as a man with a crush ever could be. It was a known secret at the Panther Ink and Nelliel couldn’t help to tease Grimmy about it every now and then. Judging from the lack of Grimmjow actually trying to hit or throw her with something anymore when he got annoyed told Nelliel that Grimmjow was, finally, starting to admit things to himself.

Little Grimmy was growing up.

 


 

It was Christmas evening when Grimmjow finally made his move. The cat and mouse chase they had had with Ichigo for the past months was starting to tick Grimmjow. Nelliel said it was a good thing that he was grumpy while being in love (he was NOT in love!! Definitely not!!) because it meant that the problem with Ichigo looking like Kaien was slowly fading away. His face was being replaced with something positive, something which brought joy to Grimmjow.

When Grimmjow pressed his lips on Ichigo’s, swallowing the muffled surprised gasp, he knew there was no turning back anymore. But he never had been a quitter anyway, so it didn’t matter.

He always got what he wanted.

And he wanted Ichigo.

Good for him, the orange haired guy wanted him, too, as his lips replied to the sudden kiss with a matching pressure.

It was a good journey to start for the upcoming new year.

 

Notes:

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