CHAPTER 8: INEVITABLE

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

And thus the conclusion of Break Up 2 Make Up.

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo paced in front of a medium-sized apartment complex, his heart thumping loudly and painfully in his ears. He'd been trying and trying to check his anger, but all it did was fester and bloom, like he was pouring MiracleGro over it. His hands were shaking and his chest kept tightening, his stomach falling to his knees at every quiet moment he achieved.

Finally, surrendering to the internal voice he'd been battling for the last hour, he stalked up to the front entrance and threw the glass door open. He strode through the lobby, the security guard at the desk giving him a quick glance before waving and smiling cheerfully. The tall, silver-haired man wore a black and gold uniform, the gold piping down the sides of his legs bringing out the honey-gray of his eyes. He was built like an American football player, but had the disposition of a big brother.

"Hey, Ichigo! Here ta see Kaien?" he called as Ichigo swiftly made his way to the elevators.

Ichigo nodded briefly, too distracted to notice the look of concern steadily descending over the guard's face. "Yeah, Kensei. He here?"

"Uh, yeah. Saw him a few hours ago. Ya good, Ichigo?"

Ichigo merely nodded again, his jaw tight as a mouse trap spring. Once he arrived at the elevators, he stabbed the call button and was grateful when the silver set of doors on the left slid open. A young couple stepped out, giving Ichigo a wide berth and wary glances. He snorted under his breath and boarded the elevator, jabbing the button for the eighth floor before settling against the wall and folding his arms across his chest.

Ichigo could see nothing but red. His teeth were aching from being clenched together for so long, but Ichigo wouldn't see an end to his raging fury until he'd gotten some answers from Kaien: the man himself.

The elevator dinged and Ichigo hurried from the cramped inside, briskly striding down to the end of the hall, where he knocked – no – banged ruthlessly on the heavy, industrial door. There was a flurry of movement behind it before it was yanked open, a disheveled Kaien standing on the threshold.

"What the fuck is wrong - Ichigo?"

Ichigo slowly let his eyes travel the lean, shirtless figure of his ex-boyfriend, from the top of his dark head, past the gray boxers he wore, and down to his bare feet. The sight absolutely turned his stomach and shoved his anger over his head. He wasn't even thinking when he snapped, his right fist flying forward and connecting harshly to Kaien's jaw. Kaien stumbled backwards into his home, his green-gray eyes wide with shock. Ichigo's blood boiled as he followed the man into the apartment. He kicked the door closed and punched Kaien again, this time his fist crushing the taller man's nose.

"Wha' da fuck, Ichigo?" Kaien cried, one hand covering the now bleeding appendage.

A bruise was forming along Kaien's jaw, but Ichigo wasn't satisfied with that insignificant bit of damage. He wanted Kaien to hurt, to suffer, to feel just a modicumof the pain Ichigo was dealing with. He snarled in response to Kaien's surprised outburst and lunged forward like a wildcat. He fell onto the dark-haired man, taking them both to the floor before straddling his waist and mercilessly pounding the man into the floor. Tears blurred his vision, his nose ran like a river, and still he didn't stop. He just kept letting his fists do his talking, spilling forth all the misery he was currently experiencing.

Finally, Ichigo realized that Kaien wasn't even fighting back. In fact, the dark-haired man was merely staring up at him through swollen lids. His face was bloody, his lips cut and cheeks bruised, but his expression wasn't one of anger like Ichigo had been expecting. It was sad.

And guilty.

Ichigo stopped hammering the man, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath and stop the sobs making his body quake. He glared down at Kaien, waiting for something - anything - to happen.

"I'm sorry," Kaien croaked, his eyes shiny. "I'm so sorry."

The statements sailed over Ichigo's head, causing him to stare dumbly at the battered man beneath him. It took another minute of tense silence before the words Kaien had spoken actually sunk in.

"You're sorry? You're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he shouted, glaring down at Kaien like the man had just declared that he worshiped leprechauns. "Let me share a little story with you, Kaien," Ichigo snapped as he climbed to his feet, then jerkily moved over to the door, where he plowed a hand through his hair. "I ran into someone today, who told me a few things you should have told me a long fucking time ago. Her name was Rukia."

When Ichigo said the pregnant woman's name, Kaien's eyes grew to the size of grapefruits, which was a feat in itself considering the sea-green orbs were nearly swollen shut. The raven-haired man slowly sat up, blood dripping from his nose and a cut over his eyebrow. Ichigo watched with disdain as Kaien rubbed the back of his head, his demeanor screaming regret.

"She told me that I was sleeping with her boyfriend. Oh, no, lemme correct that: her fiance," Ichigo continued, the anger he'd been feeling gradually filling him up from the inside out. "That you, Kaien Shiba, had proposed to her last night and had been promising her that you were going to dump me, so the two of you could be together. That you were only trying to figure out how to let me down easily. Do you have any fucking idea how embarrassed I was? How fucking mortified? How hurt? Why the fuck couldn't you tell me this shit yourself? Why'd you make me believe you really wanted me? Why'd you fucking cheat? You should have told me, you fucking coward!" Ichigo roared, beside himself with rage, despair and confusion.

He didn't know which way was up anymore. He still couldn't come up with a plausible reason for Kaien's thorough betrayal, when the shit had been so unnecessary. They could have gone their separate ways: Kaien back to his pregnant ex (which was clearly where he really wanted to be) and Ichigo...well, he would have figured something out. He was so disgusted with the entire situation, all he could do was run his hand through his hair again and sweep Kaien with one last searing glare.

"You don't deserve to be happy while I'm left miserable. You don't deserve to walk away from this shit scott-free, without even a blemish on your heart. Do you even have a heart? How could you sleep at night, knowing what you were doing to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing that you were hurting innocent people?" Ichigo asked incredulously, his voice cracking. "You know what? You're a cold-blooded bastard and I'm so gladI didn't fuck you," Ichigo added, ending his speech.

Throughout his entire tirade, Kaien hadn't said a word, but had maintained his chastised expression and his tail-tucked-between-his-legs demeanor. Ichigo was actually glad the man hadn't spoken; it probably would have done nothing but set him off again. He threw open Kaien's apartment door and left without looking back, his chest feeling like Buddha had decided to sit on it. His ears were ringing for some strange reason and his heart was beating on his tongue. All in all, he was a fucking mess. Kicking Kaien's ass had simply distracted him from his roiling emotions, which were now consuming him as he rode the elevator to the building's lobby.

Two men that he had allowed himself to actually open up and care for had lied to him and shoved his heart back at him.

XxxxxxX

Three Weeks Later

"Hey, Ichigo, it's Grimm. Gimme a call an' lemme know how yer doin', yeah? ...I'm worried about ya. I know ya don' wanna be bothered right now, but...I need ta at least hear from ya. I need ta know that yer not...not...shit...Ichigo, jus' call me."

Click.

Ichigo stared at his cell phone as he lazily lounged across his unmade bed. His room was thickly silent and dark, the windows drawn in order to block out the world, making the glowing screen of his phone the only form of light. The only sounds that could be heard were the strong smatterings of rain against his window, and the buzzing of his phone.

He was wearing a well-worn pair of faded, blue and white, striped, knit boxers that sported a couple frayed sections that were close to becoming full-blown holes. His room smelled stale and was an overturned mess that he hadn't bothered cleaning after he'd destroyed it the night he'd beaten the living skin off of Kaien's cowardly hide. He'd had a shower that morning, but hadn't moved from the bed since. He barely ate, surviving mostly on water and orange juice, and he rarely left his room, except for quick trips to the bathroom. His old man and little sisters were obviously worried sick, but he'd taken to completely ignoring them whenever they knocked on his door, asking him if he was OK, if he needed anything, if he was still alive...

He'd successfully blocked out the whole world, neglecting his phone, neglecting his friends, and even neglecting his job. Luckily, he'd made the effort to take a much needed leave of absence from the place, so he wouldn't find himself unemployed whenever - if - he managed to overcome the severe bout of depression he was trudging through. He couldn't go back to work, where he would be faced with seeing Kaien's lying, sorry ass everyday. He definitely wouldn't be able to handle that in his fragile state. As a matter of fact, he would start looking for another job soon.

His cell buzzed again, making him squint at the luminous screen. Ichigo grunted and threw his arm across his eyes, resting his head back against his pillows. Another text message. He'd been studiously avoiding everyone, but one person had been more persistent than all of his friends and acquaintances.

Grimmjow.

Grimmjow either sent him texts, or called without fail, several times everyday. Although Ichigo found it somewhat annoying, he couldn't bring himself to truly hold any anger towards his blue-haired ex. The man was really trying to be there for him and honestly, it was pretty touching. Grimmjow had always shown his affection, love and concern for Ichigo in his own, gruff manner, but this open worry formed a tiny bloom of hope in Ichigo's chest. He was mad at the world, pissed that everyone felt the need to lie and deceive him, but at the same time, he'd come to realize that what he'd felt for Kaien paled drastically in comparison to the sheer power of what he'd felt (and still felt) for Grimmjow.

Grimmjow had inadvertently lied to him and pushed him away, but during the time Ichigo was taking to just think (never mind wallow in misery), he also realized that everything Grimmjow had done had been for him. His stupid actions, his lack of communication, the overwhelming hurt he'd caused by leading Ichigo into believing he had cheated on him: they had all been to protect Ichigo from what Grimmjow considered an unworthy person. Grimmjow had only wanted the very best for Ichigo and when it seemed like he no longer fit the bill, he had decided (no matter how unwisely) to eliminate himself from the equation.

Only problem with that was, he hadn't talked to Ichigo about it first and, in the process, had made a colossal mistake. Ichigo hadn't cared about Grimmjow losing his job; he'd loved the man, himself, and had wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of his natural life. Ichigo grunted again and finally decided to read the text he'd just been sent.

Ichigo, call me. I need to hear your voice.

Ichigo sighed and stared up at his ceiling after setting his phone to the side. His heart began thundering as his mind sluggishly reached a conclusion. Yes, Grimmjow had majorly fucked up, yes, he'd hurt Ichigo to his core, but...the fact of the matter still stood: Grimmjow loved him, and that was a hell of a lot more than could be said for Kaien. Not to mention, Grimmjow had never cheated in the first place, whereas Kaien had.

Ichigo jerked to a sitting position, his chest tightening almost painfully, making him grasp the spot over his heart and pant desperately. As he stared into the darkness of his room in the general direction of the door, he finally accepted what his broken heart had been trying its damnedest to deny.

Grimmjow was indeed the only man for him; he would NEVER love another man the way he loved Grimmjow.

Ichigo chuckled dryly before licking his lips and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "I love him too much," he whispered to himself, the hushed statement disappearing into the blanket of silence in his darkened room, the sound of the thunderstorm raging outside enveloping it. "Fuck."

He surged from the bed, his body screaming at the abrupt movements and reminding him of his intense inertia. His previous lack of activity made his actions jerky and awkward, but he fought through it as he stumbled around his room, anxiously dressing himself in a discarded gray tee and a pair of black, basketball shorts. He grabbed his keys and wallet from his desk, his phone from his bed, and hustled out of his room, down the stairs past his astonished little sister, Yuzu, and to the front door, where he slipped his feet into a worn pair of black and white athletic slippers.

He ignored Karin's curious stare and his old man's squeak of surprise as he bustled out of the house, mind intent on one person.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow glared helplessly down at his cell phone situated in his lap as he sucked urgently on a cigarette. He'd been trying fruitlessly to contact Ichigo since the night at the bowling alley, when all he'd really wanted to do was find that asshole Ichigo had called a boyfriend, and turn his fucking face into a Picasso. Instead, he'd directed all of his destructive energy into trying to get Ichigo to talk to him, or let him know that he was OK. He knew his orange-haired ex was probably in a bad way emotionally, but he wanted Ichigo to know that he was there for him, and he didn't have to mourn that farce of a relationship alone. Sure, Grimmjow had ulterior motives, sure he wanted to persuade Ichigo that he was the only man for the job, even though he'd fucked up royally, but his intentions were pure. He loved Ichigo and he hated seeing the man upset. Knowing Ichigo was more than likely at home submerged in grief pissed him off and made him want to kill something – or more accurately someone– with his bare hands.

He hated feeling so damned helpless.

He drew in another deep lungful of nicotine filled smoke and exhaled noisily after holding it in for a few seconds. His hands shook with the need to unleash the deep-seated fury he was experiencing. He'd been alternating between sitting at home, trying to reach Ichigo, and going to work, where his concentration had been shot to hell. Szayel had shown up at his apartment a few days ago, scolding him for being so stupid, having previously forgiven Grimmjow for punching him, but Grimmjow honestly didn't know what the hell to do. He felt like his hands were tied with a length of chain. If he went out looking for that Kaien idiot, Ichigo would get pissed and hate him forever. If he went to Ichigo's home to force him to speak to him, Ichigo would resent it and never forgive him for that, either. On the other hand, Grimmjow was left to stew in the mess of worry and concern he'd been thrust into, resulting in his helpless state.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

Grimmjow ran an agitated hand over his face and through his hair. If only Ichigo would just call, or even text him, he would feel a million times better. His cell buzzed, making him jump and almost drop his cigarette. Getting a grip on his nerves he glanced down at the screen and sighed when he noticed that it was only a call from Nnoitra.

"What?" Grimmjow answered the phone grumpily as he put out the cigarette.

"I wan' my fifty bucks, asshole! I won the bet!"

"What the fuck're you talkin' 'bout?"

"Urahara! He's boinkin' that chick we saw in the office the other day!"

Grimmjow remembered who Nnoitra was talking about after a second of thinking, but his mind wasn't focused on a bet. "Whatever. You c'n have yer money. Now get off my phone. I'm waitin' on a call."

Nnoitra snorted. "There is such a thing as call waiting, dork. This ain't the stone age no more."

"So? Maybe I don' feel like talkin' right now."

There was a short pause before Nnoitra chuckled softly. "Tell Ichigo I said hey if he calls."

With that, the connection was severed. Grimmjow sat gritting his teeth, hating the fact that he was so fucking see-through to both of his friends. How had Nnoitra – who'd always seemed so oblivious – seen right through to the core of Grimmjow's crankiness? Grimmjow shook his head and climbed to his feet. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator, his heart climbing into his throat as he studied the pictures covering the freezer door. Ichigo's smiling face jumped out at him from every photo, his warm brown eyes laughing and absolutely breathtaking. Grimmjow traced the man's face sadly. God, he missed Ichigo so much.

If Grimmjow could apologize to him a million times a day, he would, if only it meant that Ichigo would come home. Come back to him. Grimmjow sighed, then opened the fridge, where he grabbed a bottle of beer. He removed the cap with his back teeth and paused after he'd done it, his face pulling into a grimace. Ichigo's eyes invaded his conscience, yet again, this time stern.

"You're such a barbarian! What if you break your teeth, idiot?"

Grimmjow sighed again, his chest aching. This sucked. He'd thought he'd been making progress with Ichigo until the night they'd gone bowling and seen that pregnant chick. Then everything had just...crumbled. Ichigo withdrew and Grimmjow didn't know what to do to reach him. That familiar feeling of helplessness hit him again and nearly overwhelmed him. He loved Ichigo so much, it hurt. To be so close to getting him back, only to have that chance snatched away from him was like torture.

If only he hadn't pushed Ichigo away in the first place, none of this would be happening. Grimmjow winced and rubbed the spot over his heart, his lungs burning as he tried not to hyperventilate. What would he do without Ichigo in his life? He couldn't even fathom it. He wouldn't. The love he had for the orange-haired man was too strong for him to let go of so easily, so he wouldn't even try. He just wished Ichigo would talk to him again. Listen to him when Grimmjow told him he was sorry for messing up, sorry for assuming things and pushing him away. Trust him when he said he would never do it again...ever.

Grimmjow set his beer on the kitchen island and went back to the living room, where he grabbed his phone from the couch. One glance at the screen was enough to tell him that Ichigo hadn't called or messaged him back, and he more than likely wouldn't, either. Grimmjow was growing restless and anxious, not to mention angry. He was frustrated as hell. What he wouldn't give to have Ichigo just call him right now. At least that would soothe him somewhat, knowing that his ex was OK. And even if Ichigo wasn't OK, at least if he called, Grimmjow would know that too. As things stood, he had no idea what to think. It worried him.

He ran a hand through his hair and braced his other against the arm of the couch, his heart thumping painfully. This was all his fucking fault. If he hadn't been such a bum and lost his job the first time around, he wouldn't have felt the need to push Ichigo away. He wouldn't have thought that Ichigo deserved someone better than him.

"Fuck," he choked, his throat tight.

His eyes stung, and frustrated tears filled them as his hand tightened on the couch. He was pathetic. Miserable. A low-life loser. He'd basically given away the only thing that had ever meant something to him – the only person, actually. It hurt and made him sick to his stomach. The one time he tried being noble, it backfired on him. Christ, he was such a fucking idiot.

Trying to walk off the pain, he made his way to the living room window and stared out at the dark sky and pouring rain. Thunder growled and boomed deafeningly and lightning flashed furiously. Grimmjow used to love stormy nights. He used to love laying out on the couch with Ichigo in his arms, watching a movie or some nonsense on TV. He used to love distracting the scaredy-cat orange-haired man by making love to him until Ichigo forgot about the storm or fell asleep.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool pane of glass. That would probably never happen again. None of it. Grimmjow raised a hand and balled it into a fist before resting that too against the window.

"Ichigo," he whispered.

His only answer was the driving rain as it pounded against the window, and the angry-sounding thunder. If Grimmjow didn't know any better, it sounded almost like someone was banging against his apartment door, the storm was that close. But then there was a lull in the noise, where the lightning did its thing and Grimmjow realized that what he'd heard hadn't been the thunder or his imagination, either. He glanced over his shoulder as he listened to the desperate knocking. It seemed like someone was really trying to get inside his home.

Grimmjow slowly edged towards the door, cursing the fact that it didn't have a peep hole. He hesitated at the door, wondering who the hell was at his place at a time like this, not to mention in weather like this. Deciding to just find out, he snatched the door open and froze, everything suspended in mid-air as he took in his visitor. Soaking wet clothes that dripped puddles onto the floor, drenched, bright orange hair and fiery brown eyes.

Ichigo?

Grimmjow couldn't even find his voice long enough to form the shorter man's name as he stared at him incredulously. What the hell was his ex doing there? Why hadn't he answered any of Grimmjow's calls or messages? What the fuck was going on?

Those were all of the things that Grimmjow wanted to ask Ichigo, but his mouth wouldn't move and his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. Ichigo looked tired, but he also looked pissed. His slender body had become even more slender and his frame shook uncontrollably. They stood staring at each other for a while longer before Ichigo finally made the first move. He roughly shoved Grimmjow back into the apartment and followed him inside where he closed and locked the door. Confused, Grimmjow lost his balance, but quickly regained it and glared at his ex.

Before the evil look even had time to settle on his face, his head was forced to the right from a sharp punch that left him seeing stars and blinking stupidly. Again, before he could even react properly, another blow was landed to his jaw, making him stumble over his feet and hit the floor, landing hard on his ass. Stunned, all he could do was cradle his face, where Ichigo had apparently hit him twice. He stared up at his angry ex, shocked into silence. Ichigo looked like he'd lost a lot of weight; he even looked frail. But damn, did the little shit hit hard.

"You lied to me," Ichigo started quietly, his voice quivering with fury. "You assumed that I didn't need you and then you made me believe the worst of you. You pushed me away purposely." Ichigo glared down at him, his brown eyes hard and shining.

Grimmjow wanted to shrink into nothingness from the way Ichigo looked at him and from the way everything the man said pierced his soul, making him feel like shit. He supposed he deserved it, though, and he would endure it if this was what Ichigo needed.

"Do you have any idea how I felt? Well, lemme tell you. I felt like I'd died, Grimmjow. God, it hurt just to think about you. I thought I hated you, hell I'd even moved on...but then you just came back into my life and fucked my head up even more. And then I found out that you never even cheated on me, that the reason I hated you was...pointless," Ichigo said.

Grimmjow averted his gaze and stared down at his bare feet. His jaw still throbbed from Ichigo's punch, but now his chest ached from how small Ichigo had successfully managed to make him feel. He felt so guilty, so bad for making Ichigo experience that kind of pain. Had Grimmjow really just been beating himself up and feeling his own pain a minute before Ichigo's arrival? He was such a jerk.

Ichigo stooped down in front of him, drawing Grimmjow's attention. Those sable-brown eyes had softened immensely as his ex met his incredulous stare. "After that, I could never really get rid of my thoughts about you." Ichigo's hand came up and removed the hand Grimmjow still held to his face, then replaced it with his own, a small smile tilting his full lips. Grimmjow's heart rate skyrocketed. Wasn't Ichigo mad at him? "You stuck around and made me realize something," his ex laughed.

"What was that?" Grimmjow asked, finally finding his voice, however hoarse it sounded.

That smile bloomed and warmed Grimmjow's heart with its intensity. "That apparently no matter what happens, I'll always love you," Ichigo murmured.

"I-I, I..."

"But...you better not ever lie to me or push me away like that again, or next time I won't come back."

Grimmjow sat staring at Ichigo, too stunned to speak. What? So that meant that Ichigo was...taking him back? Grimmjow clenched his jaw, ignoring the pain that shot through it as he tried to smother the swell of hope in his chest. What if he was misunderstanding Ichigo's intentions because he just wanted him back so badly? He wouldn't be able to handle the devastation that would follow.

Grimmjow licked his lips nervously. "Are you sayin' yer comin' home? Ta be wit' me again? Like-like before?" he whispered, not meeting Ichigo's intense eyes.

Ichigo's hand on Grimmjow's face lowered to his chin and tilted it upwards, forcing Grimmjow to make eye contact with him. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Grimmjow closed his eyes and let relief wash over him like warm water. His body trembled as his emotions overcame him, causing tears to slip from under his shut lids. His brows creased as he brought his hand up to cover his face and hide his moment of vulnerability. He didn't want Ichigo seeing him so weak. He sat like that for a second, his breathing coming in short gasps as he tried to compose himself.

"Hey," Ichigo said softly.

Grimmjow shook his head and held up his other hand, careful to keep his face covered and his eyes closed. "I," he started, his voice a deep croak. "Jus' gimme a minute, yeah?"

Ichigo chuckled and it surprised him. His hand lowered and his eyes slowly opened as he met Ichigo's amused stare. "Dummy."

"Eh?"

"I called you a dummy. Dummy."

Ichigo's voice was soft, lacking the heat it had previously held after he'd punched Grimmjow. Grimmjow just stared, his head tilting to the side in confusion. Why the hell was Ichigo calling him a dummy now?

"Why am I a dummy this time?"

Ichigo sighed and nudged Grimmjow's legs apart with his knee before situating himself between them, his lean body close, wet and freezing. He was still shaking, but he looked like he was trying to hide it. As if just realizing it, Grimmjow tried to stand so he could fetch the man a towel and some dry clothes, but Ichigo put a hand on Grimmjow's chest.

"You're a dummy because the way you're acting, it seems like you thought I didn't love you anymore."

Grimmjow's mouth formed a thin line as he stared. That was exactly it. After everything that had happened, he'd started thinking that Ichigo really didn't love him anymore. Sure, Ichigo had told him that when he'd said he wanted to be friends, but still...a man truly in love wouldn't want to be just friends, would he? Grimmjow hadn't thought so.

"See? Dummy," Ichigo said again.

"Well, it ain't like ya went outta yer way ta make me think other wise, ya know."

"I wasn't supposed to. Not after what you'd done."

Grimmjow went silent again. What was he supposed to say to that?

"Grimm?" Ichigo asked, his tone uncertain. When Grimmjow arched a brow in question, Ichigo continued. "You still love me, right?"

Frown. "Now who's the dummy?"

Ichigo grinned and slowly put his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders. "Good."

Grimmjow sat utterly still, savoring the feeling of having Ichigo touch him again and not in a platonic manner. His heart thundered in his chest as his mind screamed and cursed at him. 'What the fuck are you doing? Kiss him, stupid!' it hollered. So, Grimmjow lifted his hands to Ichigo's waist and pulled him closer, disregarding the soaking wet clothes making a mess on the carpet.

His eyes lowered to Ichigo's lips before going back up to his warm brown eyes. "I missed you," he grumbled, his tone chastising.

Ichigo laughed, the sound making Grimmjow smile as well. "Well, I guess I should apologize for being so callous and making you miss me, of all things."

Smile widening, Grimmjow pressed his forehead against Ichigo's damp one. "Yeah, ya should. I mean, how dare you?"

More laughter. Then Ichigo's face went serious as he closed the space between their lips and kissed him. Ichigo's lips were cold. When he pulled back, he sighed. "I missed you too."

Grimmjow didn't need to hear anymore. He wanted to do something to make up for his past transgressions, as well as warm Ichigo up, so he aggressively connected their lips again, this time securing both arms around Ichigo's waist and hugging the man tight. He would never let him go again. They opened their mouths at the same time and their tongues immediately came out to play. Grimmjow gave a soul-deep groan, his abdomen tightening as Ichigo did the same and slid both hands into Grimmjow's hair.

Everything was in an uproar, an emotional state of emergency. Grimmjow didn't know what to feel first. Relief? Happiness? No. One thing overcame both of those with the strength of an army: love. It was too much for him. He'd begun thinking he would never have his Ichigo back and now...here he was. He felt like his heart was going to explode any second now and when Ichigo pulled out of the kiss to look him in the eye, tears sitting on his lashes, it nearly did.

"I don't wanna break up with you again, Grimm. I don't think I can go through not being with you anymore. I-"

"Stop. I ain' goin' nowhere, Ichi and I won't fuck up like that again. When I thought I'd lost ya fer good, I...I..." He couldn't even finish his sentence. Just thinking about how he'd felt only moments before Ichigo had arrived was enough to depress him. Instead of dwelling on it, he kissed Ichigo again. "I'll make it up ta ya. I swear. I'll make ya tired of hearing me tell ya I love ya."

Ichigo gave him a watery smile before kissing him. "Good."

This time, Grimmjow wouldn't take no for an answer when he stood, helping Ichigo to his feet as well. He led the smaller man into the bathroom and handed him a fresh towel, then went to his room to grab a spare set of clothes. All he could find when he went through his drawers and closet was an old black sweatshirt, a pair of gray sweats and a thick pair of white socks. He took the clothes into the bathroom and paused in the doorway. All he could do was stare.

Ichigo had gotten skinny, but he was still beautiful. Besides, Grimmjow knew that his boyfriend's current state had a lot to do with him. He moved into the small room, watching Ichigo behind the glass shower door. He lowered the lid on the toilet and plopped onto it, putting the clothes he'd found for Ichigo on the top of the tank. As much as he wanted to hop in the shower with Ichigo, he'd wait. He was just glad to have the man back in his life for real. He smiled to himself and ran a hand over his face, giddy. He could claim Ichigo as his boyfriend again.

XxxxxxX

Grimmjow stood in front of the stove waiting for the teakettle to shriek so he could fix Ichigo a mug. Ichigo was still in the bathroom doing God knows what. In the meantime, Grimmjow had managed to warm up a pot of soup he'd made the other night, and now waited for the red head to emerge. He had his back turned towards the kitchen doorway as he reached overhead for the box of lemon tea he had stashed in the cabinets somewhere, so when a pair of arms went around his waist, he jumped. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and turned to face Ichigo, who stood behind him wearing a smug grin.

"Scared ya?"

"No," Grimmjow grunted as he went back to getting the tea. Ichigo chuckled, his deep voice echoing in the kitchen, but before he could speak, Grimmjow cut him off. "What the fuck you were doing out in this weather? I thought you hated thunderstorms?"

Ichigo quieted down and sat at the island, making Grimmjow turn to face him. Ichigo was playing with his fingers and staring down at the island-top nervously. "I do. I just...I had to talk to you."

"You mean, hit me."

"You had that one coming! You should be glad I didn't do it the n-"

"I'm jokin', Ichi," Grimmjow mumbled, turning back to the stove and the whistling teakettle. "I fixed ya some food and I'm makin' some tea fer ya. Ya shoulda waited until the storm passed instead of comin' outside in it. Ya might get sick."

Grimmjow expected to hear Ichigo's voice from the island, but instead Ichigo's voice came from right behind him as the shorter man wrapped his arms around his waist again. "Thank you."

Grimmjow stiffened as he shook his head. "No...thank you, Ichi." He turned to face the orange-haired man again, this time his arms going around him and tightening as Grimmjow held him close, resting his head on top of Ichigo's. "I love you."

Ichigo nodded. "I love you too."

So, yeah, I'll probably do an epilogue after this because I can already imagine the slew of reviews expressing extreme disappointment in the lack of smut. I just wasn't feeling it for the last chapter. There was too much emotion, so maybe in a separate oneshot/epilogue kind of thing.

Thanks for reading and sticking around to see the end of this!