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Summary
The weight against his back shifts and Ichigo grins at the faint purring. “I know you’re awake,” he says softly.
“Heh.” A muscled arm, larger than his, drapes over Ichigo’s hip. Its owner presses more firmly against him, and Ichigo gives another satisfied hum. “Been drifting,” Grimmjow mutters. “She still sleeping?” His arm shifts, hand cupping Rukia’s hip fondly.
“I was,” Rukia complains in a low voice threaded through with the whine of unwilling wakefulness.
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An early morning shared between three lovers.