Chapter Text
Stuck in the jet wash.
Bad trip I couldn't get off.
And maybe I bit off more than I could chew
And overhead of the aqua blue.
The Kids aren't alright-Fallout Boy
Grimmjow didn't so much inhale from the cigarette in his mouth as he did simply chew the end through gritted teeth and whatever he happened to inhale in the process was a happy bonus.
The familiar smell of burning didn't do enough to block out his surroundings. His arms and the front of his shirt were far too soaked with bubbles water and soap for him to be able to really have any sense of smell beyond the bleach-like stench of the most bargin bin cleaning chemicals on the market.
He was almost certain car wash wasn't meant to be making the skin of his hands bright red like this. Nor should his hands be stinging by the end of the day. As he scrubbed angrily at the hubcaps in front of him, Grimmjow wasn't really present for the job at hand. Instead, he was lost in a day dream about some official looking, health and safety, paper pushing prick coming and handing his boss papers to say this maggots nest of a Car wash was condemned.
Grimmjow's meal ticket going out of the window would be worth it just for the look on that bastards face.
“-WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!” was a pretty weird start to a sentence, and Grimmjow flicked his eyes sideways and up to look at the man looming over him. He looked pretty familiar but for the life of him, Grimmjow couldn't place why he should remember or care who he was.
“say that again?” Grimmjow tried, grunting in annoyance when the movement of his lips caused ash to fall from his cigarette onto his jeans.
Apparently that wasn't the thing to say as the strangers face turned a shade of purple similar to his fuckin' hideous necktie in indignation. Who the hell even wore ties like that.... it looked like the idiot was wearing a...
Damn it what were they called? It was on the tip of his tongue, and Grimmjow HATED it when he couldn't remember something simple. The sun was obviously frying his brain or something.
And this guy was STILL talking! How was that supposed to help anything?
“-you've been ignoring the mirrors and windscreen this whole time! The hell am I paying extra for if you're just going to-”
“EGGPLANT!”
The man trailed off into a bewildered silence at Grimmjows exclamation.
Grimmjow grinned wide as he stood, ignoring the twinge in his knees from being pressed into the tarmac so long. He took the stub from his mouth and flicked it carelessly into the thin stream and watched it idly as it was carried away to its new home in the closest drain.
“your tie. it looks like you've gone and lynched an eggplant around your throat.” Grimmjow finally said, his voice sounding far more cheerful then he'd felt up until this moment. You had to make moments of fun where you could after all.
Mr Eggplant spluttered in outrage as Grimmjow leaned down to scoop a fresh sponge out of the bucket by his feet. With one last grin, Grimmjow turned away from him and back to the car. Which he was now slightly disapointed wasn't the same weird purple.
Would have been able to get milage out of calling it the “Eggplantmobile” to the idiots face.
“An' we do the glass last Jackass.” Grimmjow added as a parting shot as Mr Eggplant started to speak up once more. “i ain't slackin' on shit.”
Mr Eggplant had the good grace to at least look sheepish at being proved wrong that bluntly. “i... and how was I supposed to know that?”
“Ya weren't. Maybe don't run your mouth 'bout things you don't know huh?”
Ten minutes later, Grimmjow watched the now spotless car drive away and felt exactly zero pride in a job well done. Even if he hadn't been such a prick, there was nothing to take from this besides being glad when it was over.
At some point between going over the windscreen wipers and hosing off the last of the bubbles, the sun had started to go down, and just as afternoon went to evening, so did being soaked to the bone go from an annoyance to a problem. He was freezing, exhausted and bored. So very, truly, bored.
A rushed job of shoving everything he'd used back in their proper place later, Grimmjow shoved the door to the main building open with his heel and stuck his head inside just enough to be able to catch the eye of the receptionist desk.
“Oi! Nemu! Tell your Dad I left on time would ya?” Grimmjow called out and was already starting to leave before he heard an answer.
“....there are five minutes of your shift left.”
That brought Grimmjow to a grinding halt, more out of surprise then anything. He'd never seen the meek little pencil of a woman say boo to a ghost, let alone try to boss someone around.
A sneer of frustration on his face, Grimmjow walked into the room proper, shoving his hands in his pockets to try and keep them something resembling warm as he stalked past the ugly stands of car fresheners for sale.
“The hell you just say? I've been busting my ass the last 7 hours and you're gonna be tight assed about five measly minutes?” he asked, utterly flabergasted that she'd pull this kind of shit to the point he couldn't even work up the energy to get angry, just bewildered.
Nemu, to her credit, didn't even blink. She stood there looking at him calmly until he paused for breath before replying. “No. But Father checks back the tapes on occasion. I have repeatedly heard him talk about counting up what he believes you 'owe him' to the second.”
ah.
Well shit.
That made far more sense. Grimmjows shoulders slumped as his anger fell away, left to add to his never ending stores of burning resentment towards his boss that he couldn't vent without loosing his job.
Grimmjow took a deep breath and walked over to the nearby vending machine, pulling at what little change was in his pocket as they spoke. “That man really has nothing better to do? This shithole's falling apart in seven different places and he's worrying about the minutes?”
Nemu hesitated before answering, the way she always did before answering anything that had to do with her shithead of a Father.
“Father works hard on many things. The current structural issues can only be fixed with higher budgets.... watching the cameras is free.” she said with words bordering on forced casualness.
“You mean he's a tight-ass.” Grimmjow laughed, and only laughed harder at the flustered expression he got in response. Rather then let her descend into panicked denials, he simply pushed one of the two cans he'd bought into her hand and raised the other to his mouth.
After several hours in the sun, the drink was a little shard of heaven. Beer would be even better but Soda would do for now. Once he'd downed half the contents he glanced at Nemu who was looking at it like she didn't know what to do with it, and hadn't even popped the tab.
“you're supposed to drink it you know?” he pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
Nemu blushed slightly and nodded, delicate fingers opening it with a hiss of escaped air. Grimmjow tried not to laugh when she took what was clearly the smallest sip she could before putting it back on the desk. “thank you.” Nemu said, her voice little more then a whisper.
“yeah sure, sure.” Grimmjow muttered, now suddenly feeling as clumsy as she seemed to be feeling, neither of them used to this kind of playing nice.
The awkward silence ate up a whole minute of the window he was waiting for before he couldn't stand it and went with the most cliched bull he could think of just to fill the air. “you doin' anything with your weekend? Or has your old man got you stuck here for all of it?”
The way Nemu blushed at that intrigued him like a shark smelling blood in the water. “Nothing set in stone.” was her answer that didn't really answer anything and Grimmjow wasn't going to let that slide.
The blue haired man leaned against the counter and gave Nemu his most winning smile. “Come on, who you scared i'm gonna tell?”
Nemu glanced down at the counter, seeming to weigh up the risks before she spoke. “i believe I have a date. If he was serious about his offer at least.”
a winning smile turned into one almost predatory as Grimmjow leaned in even closer. “ohhh is THAT right? And which lucky man convinced you to actually have fun for a change? I can't think anyone else workin' here has the balls to try.” the fact that Nemu blushed even harder and could no longer even meet his eye meant he'd guessed right, and Grimmjow grinned all the wider.
“...i.” Nemu began, hesitated for a moment, and started again. “His name is Ikkaku Madarame. I helped his friend administer first aid outside a cornerstore last night. He insisted on repaying me with food, despite my repeated attempts to say I needed no payment.” the slight smile that had caught her lips, that might as well be jumping up and down for the usually withdrawn girl, said how she in fact DID want to be repaid in such.
Grimmjow thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers as it came to him. “i know the guy! Bald, weird kind of energy to him like he doesn't sit still!” Grimmjow said, thinking that she could do worse. She could probably do far better if her confidence wasn't shot to hell, but he wasn't feeling like being enough of a dick to say that. Then it came to him why he knew the guy at all and shot Nemu a look.
“You know he's an 11th right?” he said seriously. “They're a rough bunch of bastards, you SURE you wanna mess around with a guy from a Biker Gang?” Grimmjow had a scar across his ribs from an 11th moron coming at him with a broken bottle. It might have been Grim' who started it but those lunatics escalated things FAR worse then they should have.
Nemu's utter lack of reaction suggested she knew that already. “Yes. As I said, he was in need of first aid. He had been in a fight with a Hollow who was trying to rob a local store. Ikkaku and his friend chased them off.”
and suddenly Grimmjow was grinding his teeth together hard enough he was in danger of his canines snapping. Hollows. Fuck.
Names and faces ran through his head, trying to guess who it was that would be stupid enough to try it on. He forced himself out of it with a growl, it wasn't his problem anymore. They could all just go to hell and applogise to Satan for the stench.
His good mood ruined by dark thoughts and darker memories, Grimmjow shoved his hands in his pockets. “Bagged yourself a superhero did ya? You go have all the fun you can.” he said, forcing himself to not just turn and stalk out. He made a show of looking at the clock. “Well NOW it's time. I'm going home.”Without waiting for a reply he was almost out of the door when he got one regardless.“I will try. Goodnight Grimmjow.”
His hand on the doors glass, Grimmjow softened just enough to look over his shoulder. “Night. If the punk tries anythin' you don't want, call me and i'll come kill him for ya.”For the first time since he'd met the little mouse of a receptionist, Grimmjow saw Nemu's small smile for a second time in one day.
With that, he vanished into the night.
-
No matter how the light was starting to die as evening claimed its throne, (and damn the council for not having repaired all the failed street-lights around here) Grimmjows pride and joy was able to illuminate the road just fine.
Pantera, his pale blue sports bike, purred under him as he leaned into the upcoming bend, and as the wind caught his hair, he finally felt something aproaching freedom.
Still.
The word Hollow snapped at his heels like the monster they'd become.
Once, The Hollow had been nothing of importance. One street gang amongst many that every large city inevitably grew like weeds from a lack of alternative futures to give the young and angry.
Teenagers wanting a common symbol to spray paint on unsuspecting walls. Punks wanting a feeling they knew who had their back. Throwing the occasional punch at a schoolmate, because he's wearing Fullbringer colours and not your own.
No one died. No one did a crime that mattered. Not really. Vandalism and scaring the locals a little.
Impressing girls with the kind of feats of bravery that posed no risk other then maybe a month in juvenile.
It had been stupid. Selfish. A waste of time and potential.
It had been the fuckin' best.
And then came THAT son of a bitch.
“Aizen.” Grimmjow snarled under his breath, a wave of anger that made his arms shake and very nearly drive off the fucking road.
That slimy, no good, manipulative lying piece of shit. The man who'd ruined Grimmjows gang, torn down every friendship he had.... and to top it off, had ruined Grimmjows life.
It had been weird when a very rich, well to do man had approached a streetgang.
Grimmjow had been 18 by then, and the others were around the same age, so when he'd started showing them how to make some real money, none of them had said no.
it'd been great at first. Aizen.... or rather, one of the many bastards that officially had no ties to Aizen, but everyone KNEW who they were working for, would drop off a package, an adress, and an envelope that had more money then an 18 year old from a broken home knew what to do with.
He hadn't been stupid enough to ask, but he'd been able to guess what was in there. And he hadn't cared. People that ran with Aizen tended to have weird kinds of luck. Cops not bothering to ask questions that they really should. Things like that.
And then after a while, there was no package. And the address came with instructions like 'give him a scare' or 'do something small that will make her nervous'. And Grimmjow or one of the boys might put a brick through the window of whatever house it was.
The next envelope would have a sweet little bonus in it.
For a while things carried on as always, but slowly, over the years, Karakura changed. Suddenly Aizen was on the local news a lot. Charity events, puff pieces about this that and another great thing Aizen and his buisnes was doing for the city.
More and more a face at the Mayors parties, or the police chief's new year dinner. That wrinkly old shithead Yamamoto never seemed to like him, which only meant Aizen was even more impressively connected.
And then.
One day.
Di Roy got stabbed to death on a street corner.
No one ever got so much as pulled in for questioning and all the newspapers just chalked it up to 'young animals killing each other off.'
No one cared.
'cept suddenly there was one less voice speaking up when Grimmjow showed up to the usual hangout spots.
Suddenly, every time someone went to buy a round, there was a 40% chance they'd get the number of beers wrong and everyone'd go silent for a good long while.
He'd been a cocky, loud mouthed little shit that constantly dragged them all into his mess. But Di Roy had been his mate, and it'd mattered.
Things were never as fun after that.
And Aizen's biggest concern? That the package Di Roy had been shot for meant lost profits. He'd made the words pretty, all long sighs and a beautiful speech at the funeral. But you looked into those eyes, and Grimmjow knew the man not only didn't care, but COULDN'T.
Grimmjow had never once heard him talk about his family, but would bet Pantera that Aizen's first response to their passing was figuring out how far the sympathy card could get him in his next meeting.
Turned out, a gang calling themselves 'The Dark Ones' had claimed the street Di Roy died on as their turf at some point. Grimmjow hadn't known that, and neither had anyone else he knew of. But none of that meant anything, because now all that mattered was the Hollows hyping up that they were 'going to war'.
War. What a damned joke.
Three years where a whole bunch of angry young men beat the shit out of each other every chance they got wasn't a war. Even if a few more people died either side. No one was winning, it just dragged things out all the longer, every coffin making it that much more impossible for anyone to suggest letting things go.
“hindsight.” Grimmjow snorted as he turned onto his street. At the time he'd probably been the worst out of anyone, except maybe Yammy or Nnorita, in looking for trouble. A lot of dumbasses had less teeth now 'cause of him.
Grimmjow pulled up outside his apartment building and started chaining up his bike. The thing that was most ironic about it all, was that no matter how obsessive he'd been. No matter how loyal to the cause. Aizen had done damage the other gangs never could.
One day, cops that couldn't be bought off were sniffing too close to the truth, and Aizen simply threw Grimmjow under the bus as a fall guy.
First Grimmjow had known about it was the said, same cops kicking his front door in and dragging him away. Everything had just gone by in one unbelievable blur. The court, the media, prison.
Suddenly he was out again. Four years poorer for it and any idea of what to do with himself in tatters.
No job that paid enough to keep a roof over his head would so much as glance at him. Most of the ones that didn't pay enough were scumbags so awful that MAYURI was one of the best he'd get.
Hollows here and there had tried to convince him to come back, and only stopped when he'd gone from laughing in their faces, to spitting, to threatening to cave said face in. Like hell he'd ever have anything to do with such traitors until his dying day.
Money and help be damned. He was his own man now. For all the good and ill that came with.
'Mostly ill' he thought as Grimmjow stepped over the pile of discarded bottles and cans that had grown at least a foot higher since he had left this morning, so that he could reach the front door. Once inside, it wasn't much better, but more dust then anything physical so he didn't hesitate as he stomped his way to the lift.
Grimmjow stared at the grey metal doors. OUT OF ORDER stared happily back.
Grimmjow turned and went to investiage if the stairwell had broken down. It hadn't, but sure looked in a state where it was giving its best attempt.
Every step he took towards the fourth floor, he imagined either Aizen's face, or one of the monkeyfucks that had stayed working for him despite knowing full well what kind of man he was. It didn't make him feel better but at least it distracted him and made the journey take less time.
Eventually, inevitably, Grimmjow reached his apartment and as he stepped through, his shoulders sagged, his brain turned to mush with the simple relief of being able to stop. No expectations or demands. At least for a while.
On autopilot, Grimmjow kicked the door shut behind him and fiddled around without looking to lock it. As soon as he heard the click he staggered his way over to the sofa and collapsed face first into the cushions with a groan.
If his roomate/girlfriend had painted the entire room neon pink, or had bought seventy penguins, Grimmjow wouldn't have noticed. His entire world being the path to, and claiming of, somewhere to lay down. He stayed there, not moving an inch for at least ten minutes, and what a heavenly ten minutes it was, before he heard a familiar feminine voice speak up.
“You still able to breath like that?”
Grimmjow raised a single hand and gave a thumbs up in the general direction of the sound and got a faint giggle for his trouble.
“Well good. I don't think i'd get the deposit back if you died and stunk up the place.”
Grimmjow turned his hand gesture into a far ruder one which only made the giggling get got louder.
After a few minutes more, Grimmjow finally turned his head to look at the armchair on the left of the room.
A stunningly beautiful woman sat there, her legs pulled up to her chin helping balance the oversized book she was reading. She was wearing one of his shirts and..... Grimmjows lip twitched a little as it sunk in that seemed to be the only thing she was wearing.... that gave him very nice thoughts. as did the way her long bright green hear clung to her head and neck as he figured out why she'd changed into her nightwear so early.
“Youuuu showered without me.” He said, trying not to let disappointment show in his voice, well aware how childish it'd make him look were he to act spoiled and how there was no chance in hell she'd let it go.
“Yep!” Nell nodded easily. “I have a good excuse though, one of the kids threw up on me on the way back.”
Grimmjow scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Ah. Well shit, complaint retracted I guess.” He rolled onto his back with a groan. Why she kept up a job dealing with such little snot nosed disease factories was totally lost on him. “Back from where?” he asked as an afterthought.
Nell tutted, “Field trip to the farm out of town? I told you about it like twice yesterday? OR weren't you bothering to listen again?”
“Pardon?” Grimmjow retorted, and barely got his arms up to catch a pillow hurled at his head. “HA!” he laughed in victory, making a show of putting it behind his head with relish.
“Dick.” Nell said fondly.
“Bitch.” Grimmjow agreed happily. “Alright I remember you sayin' about the farm. Thought it was next week or somethin', that better?”
“Yep!” Nell instantly replied, hopping off her seat and placing the book down in her place, she saunted over in his direction. “Aaaaaaand?” she asked, dragging the word out as she continued smiling at him.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes, trying to pretend to be annoyed and failing. “And you wanna tell me about it?” He sighed, a sound that instantly turned into a far more pleased sound as Nell took it as an invite to climb up and straddle his chest.
“Well, most of the kids were as hyper as they've ever been. All of them wanting to go a different direction and see one thing or the other first.” Nell began, her voice having that excited air that showed how much she loved her job. “But bless Ukitake's heart. He kept everyone together just by making them want to sing Old McDonald as they went, it was the sweetest thing.”
Grimmjow grunted to show he was listening, even as he slid his fingers idly along Nells delightfully bare legs. “Hows he doin' these days?” Grimmjow didn't have time for most people, and they didn't for him either. But Ukitake had an air about him that made him impossible to dislike. Like if you mixed Santa with a beloved uncle.
Nell smiled, “Better. He didn't have a coughing fit the entire day until we were back on the bus, so I think the fresh air did him good, I told Shunsui and he seemed determined to buy them a cottage out there the next day.”
Both of them laughed at that. The Pink wearing fool seemed to have no limits on what he'd do for his husband. Grimmjow wondered if he'd been like that before Ukitake had gotten ill and with a slight twinge in his gut, figured that yeah, probably.
Nell told the rest of her story and Grimmjow listened, politely enough even if farms had never been his thing. He did enjoy the part of how a kid named Yachiru had tried to smuggle a chicken onto the bus though.
It was only when her story had finished that Grimmjow realised he'd miss it. Nell looked at him intently, her large eyes shining with concern he didn't want. “You wanna tell me what's bothering you?”
“Nope.” Grimmjow said without hesitation.
Nell sighed. “alright, SHOULD you tell me? You're looking pretty troubled Kitty, AND you don't usually just collapse.”
Grimmjow bristled at the nickname, “I'm not a Kitty, i'm the frigging King!”
“King of the Kitty-Kats.” Nell agreed in a sing song voice, seeming to delight in provoking him. Grimmjow, annoyed, dug his fingertips into her thigh with the slightest hint of pressure. For all of what she'd called him, it was her that purred in response. “No distracting me! Talk, honestly-” she shifted her weight in just the right way to make Grimmjow have to bite back a curse. “-And THEN I'll reward you.” there was a rare, husky, tone to her voice that promised so many things, all of them ending in her getting her own way.
Stupid sexy Masochist. Grimmjow squirmed as if to try and throw her off, but again Nell made it seem effortless to move in juuuust such a way that leaving was suddenly the last thing he was capable of.
After dragging out the silence for long enough to feel like it was totally his decision and not her winning out, Grimmjow finally relented.
“I hate my fucking job, I can't find a fuckin' better one, and someone at work started telling me all about how the damned hollows tried to rob a place and hurt a guy in the process which dragged up all the ways i'm in this fuckin' mess! Alright? Is that good enough for ya?” Once he'd started, it'd all come out of him in an angry rush, and the realisation that it'd probably been exactly what she was hoping for only made it worse.
Nell listened without comment until he was finished, and then, very slowly, she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. He'd felt the way she'd gone still at the 'H-word' and how she'd relaxed just as quickly when it wasn't them trying to get in his head again. Still, he just looked at her as she sat back up.
“...I know you don't want to hear it.” Nell began, her voice resigned. “But Ichigo-”
And instantly Grimmjow was interrupting the same way he ever did when she said that name. “No. I'm not taking a damn handout from him or any of his friends!” and that too was somewhere he'd draw the line over his dead body.
Nell looked like she wanted to hit him. “Grimm' please. Why are you so bloody stubborn?”
“Because I don't want to owe anyone that bad! Kurosaki phones up one of his bajillion friends of a friend and slaps me behind a desk before I know what the fuck's going on?” Grimmjow countered, “No. hell no! I got me into this mess and it's not going to mean a thing unless i'm the one that digs me out of it.” He spoke with such a force behind it, with such absolute certainty, that for once Nell didn't respond with her usual comebacks.
Instead she just sat there. On him. Looking at him intently. He couldn't figure out what was going through her head right now and wasn't going to ask. Eventually though, it was her that broke the silence.
“I just want you to be happy Baby.” Nell said gently, a hand reached up and cupped his cheek, and Grimmjow found himself leaning into her touch. “if... if you're not gonna be unless it's you that does it, then fine. But before I drop the subject, promise me you won't forget that it's an option? You know Ichigo, he would try and help the second you asked.”Grimmjow was about to snap out an angry rant about that orange haired punk, but stopped. She meant well. She really did. And it wasn't like she was wrong, that idiot would move mountains for total strangers.
“Fine. I'll remember.” he finally grumbled, and was rewarded with a brief peck on the lips this time. That made Grimmjow cheer up enough that his hands resumed their travels up Nells legs, “So, I earned my reward yet?” he said with a playful raised eyebrow.
Nell giggled, and when she spoke, that husky tone he adored so much was back. “I'd meant it as letting you know i'd bought pizza and beer. But...” she paused in her words, and without ceremony, pulled the T-shirt up over her head and threw it carelessly somewhere over her shoulder.
Grimmjows eyes were FAR too busy to pay attention to where.
“...i like your ideas better.” Nell finished, and this time when she leaned down it was far, FAR, more then a peck.
“Fuck I love you.” Grimmjow breathed into her mouth as he pulled her in closer.
“Love you too my King.” Nell whispered back as they finally broke for air a minute later. It was said entirely to indulge his ego, but hearing it meant he truly didn't have a thing to complain about regardless.
A long while later, the two of them had finally made it to their bed proper, and Grimmjow gently stroked Nells hair as he held her close. The green locks were clinging to her skin again, but his pride was keen to note how it was thanks to sweat this time.
Sleepily, Nell leaned over him to snatch up her beer from the bedside table. “Oh. By the way, we're going to the Warehouse tomorrow night.”
Grimmjows brain, having been entirely focused on the outline of Nells body against what little light came from under the crack in the door to the kitchen, had to tick itself over several times to figure out what she was talking about. “Why do I have to go to every one of your friends birthday parties?” he complained, even though his heart wasn't in it and he'd already excepted his fate.
Nell drained half the bottle before tapping him on the head with it, causing him to hiss in annoyance. “Don't be so horrible. You've known Ulquiorra longer then you've known me!”
Grimmjow rolled his eyes “and we've never once called each other friend despite it. Just because he's shacking up with one of Ichigos little friends doesn't mean that-”
Nell had put a hand over his mouth to silence him. “They're all your friends too you dummy. You hang out with them at least once a week without fail. Accept it. You'll be happier for it. Then figure out what you're gonna get him.”
Grimmjow said nothing even after she pulled her hand away.
Nell stared.
And suddenly she burst out laughing. “you've already gotten him a present!”
“shut up.”
“YOU HAVE! You act the big act and talk the talk, but you remembered the date AND you got him something!!”
Grimmjow made a show of turning away from her and burrying his face in the pillows for the second time that night. Seconds later he felt the familiar warmth of his girlfriend snuggling herself against his back, her arms wrapping around him tightly.
She was still shaking with poorly concealed laughter, but she let it go after that. Their conversation turned into something of low voices about petty things that didn't matter, and eventually they fell asleep together.
In the silence that comes just before much needed sleep, Grimmjow considered maybe, just maybe, he was doing okay in life after all.