Fic: The Trials and Tribulations of Ichigo Kurosaki (Ichigo/Grimmjow, NC-17)

[silverfoxflower]

Title: The Trials and Tribulations of Ichigo Kurosaki  
Fandom: Bleach
Genre: Slash, PWP, AU
Word Count: ~4000
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, powerplay and D/s themes, sex toys, humiliation
Notes: Fills the postage stamp (Uniforms/Military, Teasing, Mechanical/Technological, Sex Toys Under Clothing) of my kink_bingo . See my card here.
Summary: Ichigo's intentions were good when he bought his pet, Grimmjow, the vibrating egg, he just didn't forsee how everything would go so porno, so quickly.
Disclaimer: No money was making during the production of this porn. I do not own these frisky boys. 
 

Read the prequel: The Care and Keeping of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez



Ichigo had actually laughed when the truth finally came out. He just couldn’t help it. “You’re afraid of machines?” The thought of his macho predator of a pet being intimidated by a blender sent him into new spasms until Grimmjow smacked him on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise.

“Shut the fuck up.” Grimmjow replied sullenly, which was progress, because three weeks ago he would have ripped Ichigo’s stomach open. “Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is not scared of anythin’.” Then he crossed his arms over his chest and snarled at the floor. “They’re just freaky – no guts, no blood ...”

It made sense when Ichigo thought about it. He had looked up Espadas a while ago, and apparently their natural habitat was a white-sand desert called Hueco Mundo, with no human settlements. Grimmjow had gone straight from there to Urahara’s greenhouse. He’d probably never seen a vacuum in his life before his first day at Ichigo’s house, when his immediate reaction had been to pounce and tear it apart, covering the whole downstairs in a cloud of dust and leaving Grimmjow terribly confused in the middle of a heap of twisted metal. Yuzu still bore a grudge against the both of them for that.

Feeling a little bad for laughing, Ichigo patted the bed next to him in invitation. “Hey, you know, it’s cool. We all have fe- er, things that we think are freaky.”

“Shut up.” Grimmjow huffed, staring out the window.

+

Now that he knew, Ichigo could see signs of it everywhere. Like the way Grimmjow diligently avoided the kitchen, and sometimes the entire downstairs, if there was even one appliance left on. How, outside, he made himself scarce whenever a car thundered down the road.

But the most worrisome were the times Ichigo woke in the middle of the night to find Grimmjow gnashing his teeth and snarling, muttering about wires and metal under his breath.

+

The easiest way to train Grimmjow was to shortcut the synapses of his brain, cross the wires, so to speak (although he wouldn’t appreciate the reference) and connect something feared to something pleasurable.

“Sex, food and fighting.” Ichigo told Urahara. “But he knows his food comes from the kitchen, and still refuses to go anywhere near.”

“You probably don’t want him near things that cut and burn, anyway.” Urahara nodded.

“Letting him fight a machine would just … probably not help at all.”

“Noted.”

Ichigo ducked his head, a blush searing up his cheeks. “I’m just giving you the justifications, okay? You gotta know that I’m not a total pervert.”

“Ururu will show you to the Adults-Only part of the shop.” Urahara smiled behind his fan with altogether too much glee.

+

“What is it?” Grimmjow asked grumpily, his hair still rumpled from sleep. He did perk up a bit when he saw Ichigo, though, his eyes sliding over the not-so-crisp lines of his school uniform as if mentally tearing it off.

“I have a present for you.” Ichigo said, holding out a paper bag. It still wore the logo of Urahara’s pet shop.

Grimmjow growled, probably hoping for chocolate catnip as he shredded the bag in seconds. His face fell when he saw the small plastic egg. “What the fuck is this?”

“A new toy.” Ichigo’s hand edged into his pants pocket.

“What-“ Grimmjow flinched as the egg began vibrating in his palm, and Ichigo barely had time to whip it away before his pet crushed it. “Fuckin’ bastard.” Grimmjow’s eyes were deadly as they looked up. “This some kinda joke?”

“No, Grimmjow.” Ichigo said, calm and in control, because that’s what his pet needed. “It’s a toy. A sex toy.”

Just hearing the word ‘sex’ out of Ichigo’s mouth was enough to interest Grimmjow. He stared at the egg warily until Ichigo turned it off. “Have sex with that … thing?”

“It makes it better. Trust me.” Ichigo laid a hand on Grimmjow’s quivering flank, then crawled slowly onto the bed, pushing him into the pillows. Grimmjow tensed but didn’t move as Ichigo brought the plastic egg to his face, rubbing it lightly on his cheek. The fear humming through his pet’s body was fierce, and Ichigo knew that the only thing keeping Grimmjow from bolting was Ichigo’s school uniform. For some reason, his pet saw it as a sign of authority, and could never refuse Ichigo when he wore it. “You can touch it.” Ichigo said softly, and Grimmjow grimaced, turning his face slightly to sniff at the just-out-of-packaging, newly-washed sex toy. Then, tentatively, he licked it, looking up at Ichigo for approval. Ichigo nodded approvingly. “You know what this does?”

Grimmjow shook his head.

“It can make you feel good, all over.” Ichigo slid Grimmjow’s open shirt off the sides of his body and rubbed the egg in small circles above his nipple, smiling as it pebbled eagerly. “Let me turn it on.”

Grimmjow tensed again as a low buzzing filled the room. Then his eyes widened and he began panting, arching his neck and looking at his nipple incredulously.

“Good, huh?” Ichigo urged, moving onto the other nipple.

Grimmjow gave the barest of nods, and Ichigo trailed the egg down the line of Grimmjow’s abs, circling his quivering belly button and feeling his muscles ripple and clench at the sensation.

“How about I put this inside you?” Ichigo pressed the egg against Grimmjow’s clothed erection, smiling at the panting, desperate moan he received in response. “Press it against your prostate. Gonna feel so good …“ He looked up at Grimmjow’s slack mouth, his gorgeous blue eyes with the pupils blown wide.

“Yeah,” Grimmjow shifted, rolling his hips upwards. Ichigo swallowed a groan as Grimmjow’s hard thigh rubbed against Ichigo’s erection. “Fuck. Yeah. Put it inside me.” There was still a tremble of fear in his voice, but his eyes trusted. Trusted the uniform.

“Good boy.” Ichigo smiled, and kissed him hard. “Get yourself slick.”

Grimmjow rushed to comply, smacking the bedpost with his elbow as he reached for the lube and squeezed it over his fingers while Ichigo tugged down his loose pants. “Oh fuck.” Grimmjow moaned as he jacked his knees up to his shoulders and penetrated himself without shame, twisting and thrusting with one hand while keeping his twitching cock and balls out of the way with the other.

Ichigo licked his lips, trying to cool his head. His erection pressed insistently at the fly of his pants, bitterly jealous of the lightly vibrating, pink plastic egg. “That’s enough.” Ichigo said, breathing deeply as Grimmjow withdrew his fingers, shiny with lube, and spread himself. His twitching hole clenched shyly under Ichigo’s intent gaze.

“Stop starin’!” Grimmjow said, his voice husky with embarrassment. “Just- just stick it in.”

Ichigo rubbed the egg against the rim of Grimmjow’s asshole, leaning forward to lick the moan right out of his lips. Then he pressed their foreheads together, and whispered, “What’s the magic word?”

For a second, Grimmjow’s eyes flared with defiance, but then he dropped his eyes to Ichigo’s starched collar and muttered something under his breath.

“What?” Ichigo ground the egg against Grimmjow’s perineum, flipping the remote to a higher setting. He was barely able to keep his seat as Grimmjow began to buck wildly.

“M-master - fuck ,” Grimmjow panted, twisting away and pushing towards the sensation. His voice rattled as if the egg’s vibrations traveled through his entire body. “Master please.”

Ichigo hid a shudder as he brought the egg to Grimmjow’s asshole and began to press it in. Both of them grew silent at this action, Ichigo easing the toy through with a gentle circular motion while Grimmjow closed his eyes and shuddered. Ichigo licked his lips at the sight of his pet’s erection, deep red and glistening with precome, just reminding him of how hard and sensitive he was.

Grimmjow choked a little and flailed as Ichigo nudged the egg into a certain position, and Ichigo knew that that was the sweet spot. To test, he flippled on the remote, and Grimmjow howled.

“Ichigo!” A banging at the door.

The fucking worst timing. Ichigo scrambled up, covering Grimmjow’s nakedness hurriedly with his blanket. “Karin! I’m busy-“

“It’s Rukia! She’s at the door!”

“What?” Ichigo’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering the offhand promise he had made his friend three days ago.

“I said, it’s-“

“Ichigo!” Grimmjow whipped the blanket off of his body, clearly in the beginning stages of pissed off. The last time Ichigo had lost control of one of their little games, he’d been lucky to come away with a bloody shoulder.

Then he saw the silver loop of string, bouncing on Grimmjow’s thigh as he sat up, and Ichigo had an idea. “Sit down.” He glared at Grimmjow, and without breaking their gaze, he called to his sister. “Tell her I’ll be down in a minute!”

“Yer leaving?” Grimmjow, half out of the bed, moved to straighten. He was shameless in his anger, his erection bobbing with every movement.

“Sit.” Ichigo punctuated his order with a sharp snap of the remote, turning the egg to almost the highest vibration setting. Grimmjow’s body snapped straight, and he began taking in growling little breaths, wide-eyed with shock as his hips shifted vainly, fucking the air. His limbs skittered as he scrambled for a seat.

“Master,” Grimmjow said through clenched teeth as Ichigo turned the egg off, watching his pet’s neck drip with sweat.

Ichigo allowed himself a moment’s relief that that actually worked, before schooling his features to the mask of authority he had perfected just for Grimmjow. Walking forward, he kneeled by his pet’s slumped form and whispered in his ear. “You’re going to pull up your pants and come out with me.”

Grimmjow glanced up, protest and arousal warring in his eyes. “With the-“

“Yes.” Ichigo threaded his hand through the fine hair at Grimmjow’s nape and gave him a harsh tug. That never failed to make his pet moan. Suddenly, he had a thought.“What’s our safeword?” The first time he had introduced the concept, after reading several manuals on responsible pet ownership, Grimmjow had laughed, told him that he’d never use it. That was exactly what Ichigo feared.

“Zangetsu,” Grimmjow said, licking his lips.

“Good.” Ichigo breathed at Grimmjow’s temple. “Be good for me and you’ll get a reward later.”

“What?” Grimmjow tugged Ichigo back by his sleeve when he made a move to leave.

“I’ll let you come all over the collar of my uniform.”

Grimmjow’s expression of surprised lust was worth any future dry cleaning bills.

+

So the mechanophobia was not completely cured. Ichigo actually had to remind himself what all this was for in the first place as Grimmjow flinched away from a parking meter. Or perhaps it was the parked car. Moving cars he just growled weakly at.

“What’s wrong with your cat?” Rukia dug a finger into Ichigo’s side.

“Look, he’s just a little afraid-“

Grimmjow’s warning glance backward made him amend his statement.

“… I mean, y’know. Cautious. Of machines.” Ichigo watched Grimmjow’s ass sway as he prowled along ahead of them and tried to pick out if he was walking funny.

“I don’t mean that.” Rukia said, an exasperated sigh hinting at the edge of her words. “I mean that he’s not getting into people’s faces, snapping at innocent pets and generally terrorizing the neighborhood. You’re free to answer my question, too!” She called after Grimmjow’s stiff back. “I know you can hear me!”

Grimmjow snarled something under his breath and continued walking down the middle of the sidewalk, forcing everyone else to shove to the sides in order to avoid him. He and Rukia hadn’t been on speaking privileges ever since she had smacked him for bullying her brother’s dog, Renji. It was Ichigo’s opinion that Grimmjow was “cautious” of her as well.

“He’s just a bit … sensitive today.” Ichigo said, looking down at his nonexistent watch in order to avoid Rukia’s curious stare. Sensitive was an awkward word, but it was as close to the truth Ichigo could go without blushing up to the roots of his hair. As it was, he had to think about dead puppies every other second in order to keep from tenting the front of his pants in a completely obvious manner.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, seemed largely unaffected, other than being quieter than usual. Ichigo watched him push away a man who had swayed to close and thought that any other time, he might have gone for the jugular. Oh well, this was one way to keep him on a leash.

“Here!” Rukia called, and Grimmjow stopped to let them catch up.

“Oh my God,” Ichigo groaned as he opened the door and held it for Rukia and Grimmjow to step through. “This is a girly café!” The bell on the door chimed merrily, and a girl dressed as a pink maid greeted them with a cheerful bow.

“Orihime picked it.” Rukia sounded just as disgruntled, although she hid it better. They awkwardly waded through a sea of pink tablecloths and frilly heart decals. Grimmjow, especially, looked as out of place as a bull in a dainty, hand-painted china shop.

At least they weren’t the only males there, Ichigo thought, picking out a handful of guys who looked bored out of their minds, sitting reluctantly next to their girlfriends.

“Over here!” Orihime’s cheerful voice and waving arm directed them to a booth in the back.

“Chad,” Ichigo smiled at his friend. “Thank god.”

Chad smiled shyly and scooted in. There was an awkward shuffle of seats, which ended up with Ichigo volunteering to pull an extra chair and sit off the side. Orihime and Rukia were pressed against the window across from each other, and Chad and Grimmjow, respectively, sat next to them. Grimmjow had scotched as far from Rukia as he could, almost sitting off the side of the seat.

“Ichigo, is this your Espada?” Orihime’s eyes sparkled, “Can I talk to him?”

“Go ahead,” Ichigo replied, his hand sneaking into his pocket and fondling the remote. “Grimmjow, behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grimmjow shuddered as Ichigo flicked the egg up a notch. He glanced at his master, his jaw working but no syllables coming out. With an angry huff, he snapped his attention back to Orihime.

“Wow, hi, I’m Orihime, and this is Chad. We go to school with Ichigo. Has he mentioned us? Probably not. He’s talked about you-“

She chattered on excitedly, Rukia occasionally interjecting a few comments when the topic moved on to the rumor that Urahara’s store had acquired a Quincy. None of the boys were required to contribute more than one-syllable replies. Ichigo watched the lines of Grimmjow’s body shift and tense as Ichigo’s thumb rubbed over the plastic dial in his pocket. Rukia shot Grimmjow an annoyed look when he bumped too close to her one time, but otherwise no one noticed. His pet kept his composure remarkably well, biting at his bottom lip savagely and avoiding Ichigo’s eyes. There was just the hint of a flush on his face, but it was hard to tell with the pink lighting.

A clatter interrupted Orihime in the middle of her sentence.

“My name is Tetsuo and I’ll be your server this afternoon.” A dark-haired pretty boy beamed, handing around menus in hideously bright colors. Ichigo took his without a word, perusing it for something which wouldn’t immediately give him diabetes. Gradually, he began to notice Tetsuo’s lingering presence over his shoulder. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo slapped down his menu. If this guy was hitting on Orihime, it was pretty much Ichigo’s responsibility to tell him to move his pretty little ass along.

Then he actually looked up and realized that Orihime was sitting at his other shoulder.

“I’ve never seen a cat like you before … what, what breed are you?” Tetsuo asked earnestly, gazing at Grimmjow’s face. Rather than becoming violent, Grimmjow just stared back, his eyes half-lidded with arousal.

Ichigo ground his teeth. “Excuse me.” He pushed Tetsuo away from his pet, suppressing the urge to snap his collarbone. “I think we need some time to decide.”

“Sure.” Tetsuo smiled, still staring at Grimmjow. “I’ll be … uh, right here.” He backed away without breaking the gaze and tripped over a chair.

Ichigo turned back to find the table staring at him.

“Well that was a bit rude,” Orihime broke the awkward silence with a nervous laugh. “T-talking to Grimmjow without your permission.” Ichigo realized that he still looked murderous and schooled his features into something presentable before answering.

“It’s cool. Just annoying.” He sat stiffly, glancing at Grimmjow out of the corner of his eye. His pet was flushed, hunched over the table, still not meeting Ichigo’s gaze. A savage annoyance curled through Ichigo as the conversation resumed. Why hadn’t Grimmjow pushed the bastard waiter away? Did he want that guy’s hands all over him?

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and had a sudden, heated vision of bending his pet against the table and fucking him in front of everybody, making him scream. Grimmjow was his, and pushing up the setting on the egg vibrator was merely a way of reminding him that, nothing to do at all with childish retribution.

Of course, Ichigo, being Ichigo, regretted it a minute after and toned it down when Orihime leaned over the table and asked Grimmjow if he was sick, because he looked so flushed.

+

Ichigo felt like smacking himself when he finally noticed.

Tetsuo, after fluttering around them for twenty minutes, refilling their untouched glasses of water and spilling it all over the table as he eyefucked Grimmjow, finally managed to bring them their orders. As Orihime hummed happily and tucked into her omelet, another male customer swayed over and practically sprawled into Grimmjow’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Ichigo snarled, as the guy mumbled apologies and said something about finding a bathroom. He was also staring at Grimmjow from under his eyelashes and taking altogether too long to get up. Ichigo decided to help him by catapulting him the rest of the way off of his pet. Grimmjow stared after the stranger with a lingering interest.

“Lucky he didn’t smack all the food off the table.” Rukia muttered, lowering her crepe from where she had been hugging it protectively to her chest.

“Isn’t the bathroom on the other end of the restaurant?” Orihime asked.

Ichigo’s eyes narrowed as he glanced around. There was more than one boy who had his eye on Grimmjow. Tetsuo, the waiter, was staring dreamily from a far wall. Chad-

Shit, even Chad was sneaking looks from under his bangs, flushing as he pushed around pieces of his pink cake.

Grimmjow was releasing pheromones, I-need-a-hard-fuck-up-the-ass pheromones. Ichigo closed his eyes painfully. It explained everything – the ratcheting of sudden male interest, Grimmjow’s uncharacteristic sultriness, his own violent reactions. Okay, Ichigo amended after Tetsuo passed by, reaching for Grimmjow’s shoulder before being scared off by Ichigo’s expression, the pheromones accounted for at least half of his violent reactions.

“Haven’t you ever had ice cream before?” Orihime was laughing, placing a stack of napkins discreetly in the middle of the table.

Grimmjow shook his head, his face splattered with chocolate mint chip. He shoved another huge bite in his mouth and leaned back. Ichigo and every other boy in the room stared as Grimmjow slowly licked his swollen, cocksucking lips, purring in satisfaction. He flicked his tongue to the corner of his mouth, catching a smear of chocolate.

Ichigo made an undignified groaning sound as his erection began throbbing against the fly of his pants. He tried to cover it with a cough.

Grimmjow scraped his ice cream bowl eagerly, catching every last drop before engulfing the entire spoon and making obscene sounds around it. He drew the utensil out of his mouth slowly, with a wet pop and a regretful groan.

Suddenly, the air of the restaurant turned swampy with arousal. Ichigo edged his chair to block Tetsuo from rushing forward. All the males were staring, salivating like a back of wolves ringing a bitch in heat.

With a sigh, Grimmjow slid his index finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked noisily.

“You … missed a spot,” Chad stammered, lifting a corner of the napkin to Grimmjow’s face.

Ichigo slammed his hand on the table. “Zangetsu.” He snarled, and grabbed Grimmjow’s wrist, dragging him to the back.

“What’s going on?” Orihime cried after them.

Rukia didn’t say a word, just slid Ichigo’s untouched curry over to her side of the table.

+

Ichigo was surprised this place even had a men’s bathroom, but at least it was clean. He slammed and locked the door, turning to Grimmjow with a dangerous expression. To his credit, Grimmjow met Ichigo’s gaze with a smug, defiant gleam in his eyes.

“Bad boy,” Ichigo muttered before slamming him into the wall, pressing their bodies together tightly and attacking the lips that had teased him all day. Cold mint and chocolate, they both groaned at the contact. Grimmjow’s shirt was damp with sweat under his hands, and his erection was rutting against his thigh. Remembering the remote, he turned it up to high before whispering in his ear, “You were desperate, too, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but you said the safeword.” Grimmjow smirked around sharp, stabbing breaths, rutting up against Ichigo’s thigh. With a snarl, Ichigo tugged his pet’s hair sharply, forcing him on his knees.

Next time I’ll be a better master, Ichigo promised himself as Grimmjow unzipped him and nearly tore off his boxers in his eagerness. And the rest of his mental litany dissolved into incomprehensible syllables as Grimmjow sucked him down, his mouth cold and slick and perfect, almost savage in the way he worked Ichigo’s sensitive areas as if he needed the taste of his master in his mouth.

Ichigo hissed when Grimmjow’s sandpaper-rough tongue scraped over his balls. This, this is what the guys in the restaurant would never know, the dark blue of Grimmjow’s eyes as he looked up with challenge and promise, the way he twisted his fingers around Ichigo’s thighs, desperate not to touch his own erection without permission, the feeling of a strong, dangerous predator on his knees not because he was forced there, but because he truly loved his master’s cock.

Ichigo raised a sneaker and pressed it to Grimmjow’s damp crotch, grinding down gently as his pet choked around his mouthful. “You wanna touch yourself, or you wanna come like this?” He asked, leaning forward until his palms rested on cool tile. The vibrations from the egg were so strong he could feel them all the way up his leg.

In reply, Grimmjow put his hand possessively over Ichigo’s foot and began thrusting his erection against it in the same rhythm he bobbed his head. A thin line of drool escaped the side of his mouth as he moaned into Ichigo’s pubic hair.

“Fucking fuck!” Ichigo almost toppled over as he snapped his hips, grinding his cock into Grimmjow’s face and making him swallow everything. Grimmjow was eager to comply, giving Ichigo the same treatment he had given the lucky ice cream spoon. Rubbing himself furiously on Ichigo’s heel, Grimmjow came with a shudder and a muffled cry. “Mine,” Ichigo said weakly, sliding to his knees. He tugged Grimmjow close and licked at the bottom half of his face, tasting mint chocolate and semen. “Mine.” He felt sensitive and cranky, needed Grimmjow’s body as he came down from his high.

“Yours.” Grimmjow bit him right above the jugular. “Mine.”

Ichigo began laughing. “Let’s take that out of you.” He ran his hands playfully down to Grimmjow’s ass. The vibrator buzzed away steadily until Ichigo groped for the remote and turned it off. 

“Don’t.” Grimmjow nuzzed his master’s new bite mark, still clutching his master close. “Like it.”

“So you over your fear-“

“Hey,” Grimmjow growled threateningly.

A pounding came from outside the door. “Ichigo?”

Ichigo sighed, making no move to untangle himself from their sweaty embrace. “Why does this feel familiar?” He looked down at their stained, rumpled clothing. “Is there a back exit?”

Wordlessly, Grimmjow pointed to a window on the far wall that opened up to what looked like an alley.

“Get us out of here and I’ll let you come all over my freaking jacket.” Ichigo said, smiling at the fanatical gleam in Grimmjow’s eyes as he stood and tugged them away.