Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

A/N: Well, I have resolved to never again write multi-chaptered GrimmIchi fics but I end up flooding the category with one-shots. Sorry for that. This is pointless, by the way.

…

Being captain of the Judo Club warrants you the freedom to slam students against their lockers, hang them upside down from the parapet, shove their faces in toilet bowls, and so on, to ultimately get away with it. But I didn't know it also gives you the authority to grab the butt cheeks of whomsoever you desire, until I came upon Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, a senior in my school and, as luck would have it, the president of the Judo Club. Grimmjow-sempai must be thinking there is nothing atrocious about this ass-grabbing business because otherwise he won't be pulling it as though it's as natural as breathing. But, to his credit, being shameless is probably second nature to him. And, moreover, the majority of the girls, especially those whose brains are nil, can't seem to find anything wrong with it.

And then he pulls it on me.

As of the moment, I'm relieving my bladder in the washroom, an action which requires subjecting your back to sheer vulnerability, as every dude well knows. Meanwhile, the sound of the swinging door is heard, followed by footsteps. But you can imagine my surprise when the person, instead of choosing a urinal two or three units away from mine, chooses the one beside me. It's Grimmjow-sempai. He is now unbuckling his belt. Out of the courtesy he is not willing to exercise, I hasten my business to avoid awkwardness—which is, unbeknownst to me, on its way to some kind of a horror.

He grabs my behind.

My shoulders stiffen but that just about sums up the least of my concerns. Without taking the obvious consequences into account, I turn to him in panic, his palm on my ass. Well, if you ever feel the need to appear like a complete moron, this is definitely the way to do it…I have just exposed my wiener to him. That is to say, I have forgotten to zip my damned trousers before I faced him.

"Oh, you've got quite a package." Having withdrawn his hand, he observes, his eyes on my cock.

The sound of his piss bouncing off the porcelain surface is as distracting as the amusement on his lips. As for my genius face, it's blushing like a tomato. Hurriedly I swivel around without having to determine if I am done pissing or not. This is because the obvious priority is to maybe stick my knee in his nutsack or to storm out and just forget about it. Either way, I'm liable to feel miserable afterwards, just because I have accidentally flashed him my dick for no better reason than my being a twitchy dumbass. Besides, there's simply no way I can knock the daylights out of him. I choose to scram, but not before hissing a few words,

"I sure have, but let this be a secret between you and me, sempai."

He chuckles in open delight. But I can only receive an affront for so long before I can't take it anymore, so I proceed to the door only to hear him mutter something that's gonna make me shudder,

"You sure have, and I don't mind choking on that size…"

From here on out, I am made to accept that the rest of my year in this school pretty much means dealing with subtle sexual harassment on a daily basis. For my much desired peace of mind, I will have to wait for this asshole to graduate, granted he has half the brain to receive a diploma. Sure enough, whenever Grimmjow-sempai and I run into each other down the corridors, I'd be lucky if I manage to ignore the deliberate glance he's so prone to shoot at my crotch. Often, he winks at me, but in many of these occasions the winking is accompanied by a lewd gesture which generally involves his tongue licking his lower lip. Sometimes it makes me want to froth in the mouth with irritation; other times I just want to jump off the nearby window just so to avoid him. On top of everything, going to the washroom alone now requires the same vigilance one has to exercise on a stealth mission. Altogether, this is more than I can bear. But, of course, these encounters are simply a prelude to an utterly terrific shamelessness on his part. Why? Let's just say that right now he is walking over the lunch table I am currently sharing with Renji and Ishida.

"Oh, Grimmjow-sempai, how generous of you to join us."

"I'm so flattered I have tears in my eyes, Abarai-kun. But let me get straight to the point." Grimmjow-sempai pauses, and turns to me, "Meet me at the back of the gym later at five. Sharp."

Just what is this bastard thinking? I can barely sleep at night, let alone get him off my mind and now this. Staring transfixed at him, I hardly realize he has gotten to his feet to depart. Because there seems to be a need to remind me it's too late to decline the appointment now, Ishida taps my shoulder.

"Was that a proposition?" Ishida asks me. One look and I can tell he is estimating the probability of some dick-sucking occurrence later on outside the gym.

"Shut up."

The period after lunch goes on by like a ticking bomb to me. In fact, the mere sight of the wall clock was like an alarm for an impending doom. My poor nerves are beginning to suffer a shipwreck, so much that I can hardly get a damned idea fastened on my brain. Really, I might as well suffer a coma here and now because being awake is just plain insult to the professors. And then the bell rings. Well, this is it; I have decided to pull a no-show. Whatever. It's not like I'll end up a fucking corpse for standing up an asshole… or will I? Again, whatever. So for my disappearing act, I will need Renji whom I am approaching now,

"Hey, Renji. Would you be so kind as to let me hang out in your club room—"

"—Grimmjow-sempai!" Someone squeals behind me, and thereupon the girls start to giggle. Honestly, an apparition could not have produced more commotion.

And there goes my luck, ebbing away until all I can count on are my nonexistent nerves. Something tells me I ought to run for cover. As if the succeeding noise isn't enough indication that Grimmjow-sempai is, in fact, pushing his way toward me, the bastard himself lands a hand on my shoulder. Reluctantly I turn to face him. His nearness is stifling, if anything.

"Trying to escape, aren't we? You're ten years too early to attempt outsmarting me."

This is as far as his explanation goes. No sooner than this is said does he grab my wrist. Two minutes later, we find ourselves in an empty classroom. As for me, I content myself with a groan, and hell yeah I am ready to tell him I can just quit being harassed.

"Sempai, cut this crap." These words gush out of me. And yet, all things considered, I could've said more. For one thing, he can talk to the hand because that happens to be the only part of me that's willing to listen.

"No, you cut the crap. Out with it." He demands. If I'm not mistaken, he is somewhat furious.

"Out with what?"

"The fucking letter—from that second-year bimbo."

Last time I checked, it was my own business if I so ever received love confessions from other people. But now this son of a gun is just so intent on invalidating that privilege. Why? More importantly, just how on earth did he discover that some chick has handed me a love letter? Then again, that can be answered if his perversities are taken into account. To further just that, he's now looking at me as though I have deliberately shoved his face in a fucking pigpen or something. Just whose fault is it if I am attractive enough to be confessed to? Not mine. So, right then, I give up. I have no use in cheesy shit anyway so he can shove it up his ass and claim all the vaginas in this school for himself.

"Here." I mutter, handing him the envelope.

Without taking his eyes off me, he tears the letter to pieces, violently! For what, I have not the slightest idea. Maybe I ought to start banging my head repeatedly against the wall; that surely will yield more answers than talking to this pervert.

"There you go." He says, looking satisfied.

"For what reason did you do that, if I may inquire, sempai?"

"What reason, you ask? How about this?"

Before I can deduce what he means, he has grabbed me by the neck. In the next moment, his tongue is slithering inside my mouth, with an ardor that's almost vulgar. Struggling appears to be as useful now as a pricked condom, for obvious reasons. This dude is practically the strongest punk around. If it's still hard to understand, I give up squeezing my way out of his arms. This is, by the way, my very first kiss. At length, he pulls away.

"…"

"Does my reason satisfy you, Kurosaki?" He asks, with a grin that could not have disgraced Satan.

The way he is looking at me is annoying the living shit out of me. I have heard before that pulling a scowl takes the work of maybe thirty facial muscles while, on the other hand, slamming your palm against someone's face only takes the help of maybe ten or so muscles. On that note, must I slap this jackass across his cheek now? I mean, that should save me the effort, right? Well, contrarily, because I am such a failure, I nod. It feels like a part of myself has just committed suicide, to be honest. And lastly, as this nod opens up a whole new world of possibilities, he pulls me again to him, kissing me as though his mouth and his tongue are going to vanish on the very next day.

Starting from now, every love letter I may receive from any chick shall end up nowhere else except in the trash bin. That's because sempai has just given me a very valid reason for that.

END