Archive of Our Own

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Winter this year was a surprise. Ichigo came back from the store when it started snowing. A few hours later, a real snowstorm began. He didn't envy his father, Yuzu, and Karin. They all went to Tokyo. Goat Face had some kind of meeting or doctors' conference. Yuzu and Karin forced him to take them on the trip. Ichigo stayed. He didn't feel like going, he preferred to study.

That was the official version. The unofficial version, the true version, was that he didn't want to miss the fight with Grimmjow for anything. There was no way in this world - or any other - that he would pass up the opportunity to growl at each other with that large, aggressive cat. Their fights took him out of the monotony of his daily life. They satisfied the needs of fighting and of him as a Hollow. He wouldn't miss them. He arranged his entire life around the schedule of their fights.

He had planned his entire life so that he wouldn't miss a single minute of his time with Grimmjow. Those moments were precious. He treasured them like few things in his life. He treasured Grimmjow. He liked him. Maybe too much for his own good. But how could he not like him?

That wild, loud, spiteful, handsome as sin, asshole. Grimmjow was like a hurricane. In the post-war boredom, he was a variable that didn't let him rot from boredom. He didn't let him stand still, only to wade through the sands of Hueco Mundo and chase him with a sword in his teeth. He felt the hollow instinct pushing him towards Grimmjow. He didn't need him, he boldly went towards the former Espada, but he listened to him, because he was able to resist.

Sighing loudly, he closed the curtains. The sight of the falling snow was beautiful, but it was tiring to look at it. Grimmjow wouldn't show up anyway. He would wait in Shoten. Ichigo would know he had arrived because he would feel the pulse of his reiatsu. He wrapped himself more tightly in his sweatshirt. It was cold. The temperature had been dropping for a few days, but today there was some kind of cumulation of cold temperatures. Probably because of the snowfall. Now a snowstorm. It was only six in the evening, it had only been snowing for a few hours, and the white fluff covered the world with a thick layer of white.

He glanced at the clock in the kitchen, irritated. Grimmjow was already an hour late. He would wait for that bastard, even if it meant waiting until morning, and then he would yell at him, and in the end he would bite his hand. As revenge for the last time, two days ago. And for the time before that. Grimmjow really liked to use his teeth during their fights.

He put the kettle on and prepared some tea to brew. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“It’s getting colder…” His teeth were practically chattering. “Maybe I should turn on the heating,” he muttered, pouring the tea. He carried it into the living room and set it on the coffee table in front of the TV.

He went to turn on the heating. He frowned when, despite trying to start the central heating, it wouldn't work. An error message popped up. Confused, he took a photo and sent it to his father asking what was going on. He sat on the couch under a blanket and waited.

“Are you kidding me?!” He shouted when he got the answer.

There is some technical problem. They are supposed to fix it in a few days. Bear with it.

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He was lying on the couch, following the plot of the series with moderate interest. He and Karin jointly paid for Netflix and used it often. He nervously looked at his cell phone. Grimmjow was still late. An hour, an hour and 10 minutes, an hour and 15 minutes.

An hour and thirty minutes. He was afraid he might have missed the pulse of empty reiatsu, but no… that would be unlikely. Grimmjow's reiatsu was ringing and resonating in his body, so no; he didn't think he could have missed it. And even if by some miracle he had, Grimmjow would have burst in here, a literal hurricane of blue, and dragged him out of the house.

The asshole was late. Ichigo frowns. He doesn't like it. Their fights have always come first. For both of them.

Wrapped in a blanket, he goes to make another hot cup of tea. Through the kitchen window, he sees that the snowstorm is still going strong. He returns with a steaming cup of tea when the doorbell rings. Someone presses the button a few times, making Ichigo grimace. Annoyed, he goes to the door.

A cold, icy wind tugs at his clothes. The cold seeps into his bones in an instant. Snowflakes fly into the house on the icy wind. And he stands in the doorway like an idiot, looking at Grimmjow.

The Arrancar is dressed as always, his exposed forearms and mask are sprinkled by the snow, in fact he is completely covered in snow. His hair is wet, falling over his forehead full of white fluff.

Ichigo's gaze stops at Grimmjow's eyelashes. Tiny snowflakes stuck to his long eyelashes, trembling each time the man blinks. They fall onto his cheeks and it looks like... Grimmjow is crying.

"Grimmjow?!" He chokes out once the initial shock wears off. "What are you doing here?" His voice trembles. "Come in or you'll freeze." He adds more quietly. He steps away from the door and waits for the Arrancar to enter.

Grimmjow enters and snorts. He passes Ichigo so close that his warm breath hits the Shinigami's cheeks. He feels a blush creep up his face. The Espada's body is close, and Ichigo takes advantage of it shamelessly, inhaling the scent. Grimmjow smells like mint cigarettes. Mint and cigarettes, forest and blood. Musk and smoke.

Still confused, he watches as Grimmjow takes off his jacket soaked by snow. "Give it to me! Don't throw it on the floor." Ichigo takes the jacket from the man's ice-cold hands and hangs it on the coat rack.

Grimmjow narrows his eyes angrily but says nothing. Snow from his hair drips down his face and neck.

Ichigo has to swallow and look away. The droplets that slide down the man's throat and disappear beneath his clothes are….

"I'll get you a towel." He says and quickly walks to the bathroom. He feels his heart beating like crazy. Grimmjow's irritating scent still stings his nose. Always, always so damn pleasant. Even the fact that he's started smoking can't work against this guy. Ichigo grabs two large towels and goes back to the hallway.

Grimmjow's shoes are gone now, and a puddle is forming beneath him. Ichigo bites his lip. "Will you tell me what happened? Why are you here... in this weather?" he asks. "We always meet at Urahara's."

Grimmjow growls as he vigorously wipes his hair. “Kisuke.” It almost sounds like an insult. All that was missing was a spit. “He damaged some sensor or some shit. I can’t open the Garganta.”

"We were supposed to fight today anyway." Ichigo narrows his eyes. "Why not..."

"The bastard said you can't fight today! I heard you told him to tell me this!" Grimmjow abruptly throws the wet towel off his head and throws it at him. Ichigo catches it in mid-air, it's wet but smells like the shower gel Grimmjow uses.

He opens his eyes wide. "Not true! I was waiting for you, but you were late!" He says reproachfully. He hands the man another towel.

Grimmjow freezes. He watches him as he reaches for a towel. Ichigo, for that expression, very good. You're not lying? That's exactly what he's saying. Ichigo just looks at him. I'm not lying. Grimmjow hisses. There are a few moments Ichigo is always proud of. Sometimes, not always, they can almost talk without words. The glances, the hisses, the grunts, cooing, humming. The Hollow language, the common part of them.

"Bastard. I'll eat his face." Grimmjow wipes snow on his forearms. Muscles tense, veins clearly visible. Saliva pools in Ichigo's mouth.

Taking advantage of the brief moment when Grimmjow is busy clearing the snow, he looks at him. This is the first time the man has been to his house. He wanted to take him here before, but there was no chance. A large puddle has formed where he is standing.

“This is pointless.” He says aloud. The Arrancar’s sharp, angry gaze quickly settles on him. “You need to change. Come with me.” He says firmly.

He goes to his room. His heart is beating in some crazy rhythm. Which gets stronger when he hears footsteps behind him. Grimmjow follows him to his room. Grimmjow will be in his room, which is still a teenager's room. But it's too late to change his mind. He feels the man's body behind him.

He swallows, bracing himself for Grimmjow's ridicule, and opens the door to his room. He goes straight to his closet and starts looking for something comfortable that will fit a body larger than his own. There are sounds behind him. Grimmjow looks around, touches things, sniffs.

“It smells like you in here.” The deep growl sounds much closer than he expected.

Ichigo takes another few breaths. The smell of cigarettes fills his nose as if to punish him for his stupidity. "This is my room, of course it smells like me." He says lightly. He found a sweatshirt. He bought it online once but made a mistake when ordering and chose a size that was too big. Now it will be perfect. There are pants left. He freezes abruptly when he realizes something...

“Are you all wet, or just…?” He looks over his shoulder. Grimmjow is standing closer than he thought. He can almost feel the coolness of his body. He’s interested in the bookshelf where he keeps his books and manga. When Ichigo asks that wonderful question, the blue ones move right up to him.

"What are you talking about, Kurosaki?"

“Are ALL of your clothes wet?” He growls, annoyed. Seriously, Grimmjow is as stubborn as handsome is. To an absurdly high degree. “Are your underwear wet too, you asshole?” He finally says, almost shouting.

Grimmjow looks irritated at first. Then a smile begins to spread across his face. Ichigo for that smile. With his heart in his throat he sees the corner of his mouth lift as if in slow motion and the fang becomes perfectly visible. Ichigo for that smile, he loves him and at the same time won't haunt him. Mean, nasty and making his knees weak. Once or twice he masturbated in the shower with that smile in his head.

"Kurosaki, I don't wear underwear."

He turns to the closet, almost stepping into it. A blush burns his skin. Asshole… He finds a pair of sweatpants. They're a bit too big for him, they'll fit Grimmjow, or at least they should.

"Here, change before you flood my house. You're soaked like a little kitten that fell into a puddle." As punishment, Grimmjow pinches his hand. "Ow!" He jumps back. Grimmjow isn't at all guilty. "I'll put your clothes in the dryer, they'll dry quickly." He says, furiously massaging the place where Grimmjow pinched him.

Grimmjow unzips his jumpsuit. He raises a blue eyebrow. When he reaches the end of the zipper, a little below his belly button, Ichigo screams. "Obscene bastard." He mutters and leaves the room. He fights a blush. He hears Grimmjow laugh loudly and mutter something, but Ichigo can't hear because he slams the door to the room. He takes a few breaths, touches his cheeks with his hands. Hot. He bites his lip.

Why does Grimmjow always have to be so… like this? He always enjoys teasing him. Especially since he discovered that sexual innuendos would make Ichigo's cheeks red. Ichigo was afraid that maybe the Arrancar had found out what he was thinking, but that would be unlikely. Maybe it was just another way to tease him and get his blood boiling.

Ichigo… wishes Grimmjow could make his blood boil in a different way.

"Kurosaki, you can come back." Grimmjow calls out loudly from the room, pleased with himself. Ichigo is sure he's smiling.

He sighs and and goes back to the room. He did it on purpose, I'm sure. Black sweatpants hang around Grimmjow's hips. They're okay, except they're a little too short and show his ankles. Other than that, he's got nothing. The black hoodie is still off and Ichigo can admire the gaping hole in his stomach and the muscles.

"Are you done?" He leans down and grabs the wet suit. The belts and sword are on the desk. Ichigo raises his eyebrows in surprise. The panther is lying casually on the desk, next to his books, like it belongs there. Like it's no big deal. He's put a part of his soul among Ichigo's things, like it was normal. Grimmjow always had his sword with him. Ichigo is certain he sleeps with the sword next to him. NO ONE touched the Panther. NO ONE reached out for it. Orihime must have used her power and fixed Renji's hand because he ONLY wanted to touch the Panther.

"Almost." Grimmjow hums and pulls on his hoodie. "They smell like you. Clothes, I mean." He says quietly. He sounds quieter than usual.

Ichigo doesn't understand Grimmjow and his reliance on scents. Is that a Hollow thing? Possible... That would explain why his sense of smell is heightened when he puts on his mask, or when he transforms more into a Hollow. Grimmjow seems to be more sensitive to it somehow. He can feel when he's sad, or... Well, he's a cat after all.

At that moment, the Panther on the desk catches his eye. There won't be a better opportunity. He reaches out and gently touches the handle with the pads of his fingers.

"We've established that this is my room, it smells like me." He says lightly and grabs the sword. It is similar to Zangetsu in terms of heaviness. He feels Grimmjow's reietsu. It tingles in his hand. He carefully slides out a piece of the blade. It gleams ominously. He sees parts of his reflection in the smooth surface.

He feels the Hollow's gaze on him. He is prepared for a blow to land on his head, or hands holding a sword, but nothing comes. No claws, no teeth. Just observation.

“There are no scents of anyone else here. No one visits you? Not even that chick with the big tits?” The silent mockery rolls off his words like snow outside the window.

“No, I have no reason to invite anyone here.” He says. Orihime even less so. Not after he officially rejected her. Claws and teeth still haven’t come into play. Grimmjow still hasn’t done anything, despite Ichigo holding his sword. “This is my space, I don’t want anyone here.”

Grimmjow doesn’t comment anymore, instead humming quietly. “Do you like it?”

Ichigo twitches, surprised. He looks from the sword to its fur. “Panther? Yes, it’s a magnificent sword.”

Grimmjow's brow furrows. "This is a part of my soul."

“I know what I said.”

He holds the Grimmjow's soul fragment in his hands for a moment longer and then places it on the desk. He can still feel the Arrancar's burning gaze on him.

"Would you like a cup of warm tea? It's still cold and the heating in the house is broken."

Grimmjow has his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. The zipper is slid open, revealing his collarbones. Ichigo can see a bit of his scar.

Grimmjow looks hesitant. His gaze wanders to the side. Ichigo sees his chest heave as he takes another deep breath. “Alright. That’s fine.” His brow finally smooths out. "I guess we're not fighting today anyway?" He says, finally looking at Ichigo.

Oddly enough, he doesn't sound angry about it. Ichigo slowly bends down to pick up the wet clothes on the floor. "I don't think so." He says lightly. There's nothing really stopping him. Grimjow could open the Garganta, they could use sonido to get to Urahara and avoid the cold. But Grimmjow doesn't say that, so Ichigo doesn't either. 

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They go downstairs. Ichigo goes to the kitchen, Grimmjow following him, keeping no more than a few steps behind him. Ichigo knows he's being watched. Espada's watchful gaze does not leave him even for a moment.

He knows that the Hollow sitting at the table has an aversion to tea. So they open every box and smell every tea they have in the house, and there are plenty of them. Yuzu always buys teas when she sees some new interesting flavors. It turns into a really good fun. Despite the bone-chilling cold and Grimmjow's cold body next to him. Finally, Ichigo pours boiling water into the cups and carries them to the living room. Grimmjow is already stretched out on the couch. Ichigo sits down next to him - close! He allows himself to sit closer than he normally would, but although his body is colder, it is still a bit warmer than snow - and throws a blanket over his legs.

“It’s so fucking cold.” He says, pulling the blanket over his stomach. “How come you don’t feel the cold?”

“I’m dead, Kurosaki.” Grimmjow snorts.

“Is that why your body is so cold?” he raises a red eyebrow. He searches for the remote control among the pile of couch cushions.

“Oh, you know my body temperature.” Grimmjow smiles suggestively.

Ichigo rolls his eyes. "Don't be an asshole, you know what I mean." He says more quietly.

"Who said I don't feel? Hierro dulls everything but It doesn't disturb sensation." He shrugs.

“So you feel the cold?” Ichigo’s eyes fly open. “How is it possible that you managed to come here?!”

Grimmjow shrugs again. "The cold won't kill me." He says indifferently.

The shock on Ichigo’s face deepens. He moves closer to him and throws the blanket over his legs. “Why did you come despite the cold!?”

Grimmjow is silent for a moment. Ichigo finally looks up at him. There’s a faint blush on his pale face. “You’re a better option than Kisuke and his madhouse.”

Ichigo smiles softly. He hands the Arrancar a cup of tea. The scent of the strawberry tea the Arrancar stubbornly chose tickles his nose pleasantly. Grimmjow takes the cup from him without a word. "Is that what strawberries smell like?"

“What?” Ichigo almost spills his tea.

Confused, he watches as Grimmjow holds the cup and sniffs the drink a few times. His eyes are closed. “Is this what strawberries smell like?”

"Yes..." Ichigo replies cautiously. "Don't you know what strawberries smell like?"

Grimmjow hums in agreement. “I wanted to try them, but…” He suddenly stops, and his face becomes streaked with visible red.

“But?” Ichigo presses. The blush on that sharp face is beautiful.

Grimmjow growls. "Kisuke the bastard forbade me from stealing. He said I wouldn't be able to come here again if I stole anything! He wouldn't give me any money either!"

I'll talk to him. Ichigo thinks angrily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Another snort. “This is stupid,” he says, still intently staring at the liquid in the cup and sniffing it.

“It’s not stupid. We’ll buy strawberries tomorrow.” He says, smiling slightly. Grimmjow can be so adorable when he’s not trying. “As long as we don’t freeze to death, because it’s fucking cold.” He adds, grimacing.

"I noticed. Like hell..."

Ichigo turns off the big light in the room and turns on the smaller, side lamps. They create a nice semi-darkness in the room. They turn on some series. Ichigo chooses one full of action and violence. Something about the mafia, police and crimes. He hopes that it will interest Grimmjow at least a little. He must have hit the nail on the head, because the blue eyes follow what is happening on the screen with interest. Empty cups lie on the table. The blanket warms him up a little. Sleepiness creeps into his body. It's a tiring day. A long walk in the cold, and then Grimmjow appears. Delicate blushes, allusions. Sometimes it's too much, sometimes too little. He would like not to be afraid to touch him. Not to be afraid to put his hand on his body. He knew that Grimmjow wouldn't do anything to him anyway, even if he swung his claws or snapped his teeth too close, it never hurt him. He almost tore Renji's arm off as he reached for the sword, but he let him touch it. Taking it, sliding the blade out...

“Why did you let me touch the Panther?” He asks sleepily. He’s not even following the plot anymore, he’s staring at the flashing colorful images without concentration. “You’re hurting everyone if they even think about it, and you didn’t let them.”

Grimmjow moves next to him. He feels the movement, more than he sees it. “Because it’s you.”

Ichigo frowns. “That’s not an answer.”

Grimmjow's quiet laughter confuses him even more. "You're a Hollow."

“The Hollows are fighting and eating each other.” He says, irritated. “That’s still not an answer.”

"Not always. We fight and we don't eat each other. Harribel and Nel don't eat each other. Harribel and her Fracción don't eat each other. We don't always eat each other." Grimmjow's voice is quiet. He's still looking at the TV, but it looks like the show has suddenly lost interest in him. "It was the Shinigami who came up with the idea that between Arrancars and Vasto Lorde there is nothing but hunger."

A clawed hand snakes into his hair, tightening it. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s noticeable. “So are you treat me like a Fracción?” Ichigo laughs quietly.

"No, more like... a partner?" Ichigo is sure he's frowning at this point and his heart is stoping. If he had to call their relationship, he wouldn't be sure either. Are they not enemies, not friends? What? Ichigo feels lust for him, likes him, but Grimmjow? Grimmjow...

“Fuck that.”He says, irritated. “Maybe it doesn’t have a name. Fuck that.”

Ichigo sighs, but smiles. It can be. Not every relationship needs a label. That's fine with him, as long as Grimmjow is there for him. The wind whistles outside the window and his body shivers. The temperature must have dropped even more. It will be even colder by morning. A shiver runs through his body so strong that his teeth clash together.

"Kurosaki?"

“What?” He mumbles, embarrassed. “I’m just cold.”

"What an idiot..." Grimmjow sighs. Ichigo doesn't even have time to open his mouth before Grimmjow's hand pulls him closer to Grimmjow's body, placing him comfortably between his legs. The Arrancar pulls him closer to him and wraps the blanket around them. Ichigo doesn't say a word, doesn't make a single sound. The body behind him is colder, harder. But it smells nice. It provides support. The Espada's arm crawls under the blanket and wraps around his waist. His hands are warm, from holding a hot mug and keeping them in his hoodie pockets. He puts his hand in his hoodie pocket, on his stomach. Ichigo swallows.

Grimmjow's nose nuzzles his hair. It tickles, but it's nice. He lets out a short laugh before he can stop himself. Grimmjow snorts, warm breath fanning the back of his neck. It's nice, because despite the initial chill, the Espada's body isn't freezing cold. After a moment, their bodies warm up from each other.

“Grimm…” He begins, but a growl stops him.

“Hush. Sleep.” Grimmjow murmurs, close to his ear. His breath is warm, smelling of tea and menthol. “The Hollow take care of their own. And you are mine.”

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This white shit keeps falling from the sky.

Grimmjow mumbles, not quite sure if he's irritated, surprised, or completely indifferent. He's seen rain before, but never snow. He had heard about it, even though Ichi had said something about snow before, but hearing it and seeing it now were two different things. It was strange when he opened the Garganta and a white storm of strange confetti hit him in the face. And that piercing cold. It was unpleasant, very unpleasant, but bearable through clenched teeth.

Then Urahara pissed him off. So he left Shoten and went after Kurosaki's reietsu.

The Shinigami, who was now sleeping curled up on the couch under a blanket, his head on the backrest and curled up like a little kitten. Just a moment ago, he had been leaning against his chest, snuggled up to him, as trusting as ever. Ichigo always approached him so trustingly, as if he knew Grimmjow wouldn't hurt him.

Because he wouldn't hurt. A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth. Kurosaki is his, and he doesn't destroy his own. He takes care of them. He doesn't let them out of his claws.

He rests his forehead against the cold glass. The white blizzard has abated. Snow is falling lazily from the sky, slowly. To him, it looks almost like slow motion.

He fought with himself not to look at the sleeping Shinigami again. He had to get up. He had to, or he didn't know what he would do otherwise. Kurosaki smelled... so nice. Warmth, blood, oranges, and something sweet. The scent was like honey on the tongue. They lay next to each other, their scent becoming a cloudy unity. And it irritated his senses in a way he had never felt before, but he had a vague idea of what it could lead to.

Kurosaki had a nice body. Strong, young, firm. He was all… himself. Grimmjow liked him, though he wouldn't admit it out loud even under torture.

It's dark outside. A human wouldn't be able to see anything. His eyes, accustomed to darkness, see perfectly. He loses his willpower and looks over his shoulder at the sleeping Shinigami. Is this already a Hollow or stil human, Shinigami? With him, Kurosaki sometimes acts like a Hollow. He forgets about everything and... allows his second nature to set him free; he forgets about the rigid codes of the Shigami, their hatred for anything that is not like them. It's... always nice. Grimmjow likes it. In a human body, Ichi wouldn't see anything in this darkness, maybe a little, if the moon reflected light from the snow. But Grimmjow? He sees perfectly in the dark. In moments when Ichigo is weaker, Grimmjow is still an Arrancar. He is stronger and no other Hollow will touch what belongs to him.

He's tempted to go out into the snow, but he doesn't want to leave the younger boy alone. On the other hand... if there's a threat, he'll be able to sense it and react before anything happens. And this snow looks pretty interesting.

Another glimpse of the sleeping Shinigami. He's sleeping buried under a blanket so that only the tip of his ginger crown is visible. He makes a decision and slowly and carefully walks to the corridor and as quietly as he can - and he can walk silently, he's a cat after all - puts on his shoes. His jacket is still damp.

It won't get any wetter, and if he gets his warm black sweatshirt wet, he'll lose all of Ichigo's scent. He takes off his sweatshirt and puts on his jacket, zipping it up for the first time in a long time. The jacket is a bit short and it makes his belly exposed, but no matter. He quietly opens the door and leaves.

The cold is piercing, but bearable. The snow, on the other hand, is funny. Soft and creaks when you walk on it. Funny… He scoops it up in a handful. It's freezing cold and Grimmjow immediately winces. The snow is a bit sticky. He's heard of something like a snow fight from Jinta, but is that even possible? How can something so soft hurt someone? He frowns and glances briefly at the dark window. Kurosaki is also soft, and he can hurt someone. Ichi is soft but he has claws. He's like... a trap. That sounds good. He smiles. Sweet Ichigo, he shows his claws when he has to fight.

"Grimmjow!" A trembling voice behind him throws him off balance. The snow falls from his hands and he turns around abruptly. A few steps behind him, Ichigo stands. With those big, brown, warm eyes now wide open. His face is pale, he looks scared.

Grimmjow is at his side in a split second. He grabs his shoulders and looks at him. Why he didn't feel like someone was near him? Ichigo is his, he knows his scent. He doesn't arouse a sense of danger.

"What happened?" He growls quietly. He feels nothing. Pesquisa finds no threat, Kurosaki doesn't look injured. He doesn't smell of fear. "Why did you go out? It's cold." He finally asks, after seconds of silence spent searching for a possible threat.

Ichigo's expression becomes confused. A blush covers his cheeks, the delicate pink looking more intense against his pale skin. He's so pale that even his freckles are more visible.

“You were gone,” he mumbles. Grimmjow has to lean in to hear. “You were gone, and the door was open. I thought you left.” He speaks louder, but still barely above a whisper. He’s embarrassed. 

“Something happened, something…” He looks around, as if expecting to see a Hollow or something else that Grimmjow would consider a threat.

Grimmjow bites the inside of his cheek. Would Ichigo think it was stupid? Would it be better to tell the truth that he was curious about the snow and show weakness? Or would it be better to lie? 

Ichigo is shit when it comes to sensing reiatsu. He could lie and say he felt something, Kurosaki wouldn't think he was soft and worthless.

I won't lie to him. Honesty is important. That's what Ichi always said.

Grimmjow blinks. "I went out for a moment... to see the snow?" He don't know why that sounds like a question.

Ichigo's eyes widen again. "Snow." He repeats.

He rolls his eyes. "There's no snow in Hueco Mundo. I was curious." He looks away.

Ichigo chuckles quietly. He whispers something, but Grimmjow can't understand. The wind rustles in his ears. It lifts his hair and makes a mess. The same with Ichi's red locks. Orange bangs fall over his eyes. Grimmjow gently brushes them away from his eyes. Warm, brown irises run away from him again, and the blush deepens. They say that Ichi looks like a strawberry when he blushes

Grimmjow is very curious about what strawberries taste like.

"What were you saying, just now?" He asks quietly. It's completely dark around them. Thick clouds block the moonlight. In the total darkness, illuminated only by the snow, Grimmjow is sure that Ichigo can't see his face clearly. He can't see the confusion, the weakness, and the blush.

He feels Ichigo’s body tremble. The little bastard stifles a laugh. “I told you you were cute.”

He snorts. The steam hits the Shinigami right in the face, and for some reason he opens his mouth. Grimmjow shivers.

"I'm not cute. I'm a predator." He says, putting all the resentment he can into the words. The truth is, even if he wanted to, he couldn't be mad at Kurosaki. He just couldn't.

"A panther is a predator, a predator is still a cat. And any cat can be cute. And you purr." He says seriously.

Grimmjow laughs loudly. The next moment he falls silent abruptly.
"Kurosaki, why are you barefoot, what the hell!"

Confusion flashes across the Shinigami's face. "Ugh... Well..." He nervously scratches the back of his neck. His toes curl. "You were gone, and I was afraid you'd left and..."

"You ran out barefoot." Grimmjow growls. He grabs Ichigo under the knees and waist and lifts him up. Ichigo squeals and wraps his arms around his neck. He heads toward the house. Even in the dark, he can see that the boy's feet are as pale as snow, even starting to turn blue.

He enters the house, still with Ichigo in his arms. Ichi is silent, wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Grimmjow feels his cold nose against his neck. His hair tickles his jaw. He smells warm, despite the cold. He quickly kicks off his shoes, grabbing a blanket from the couch on the way to the upstairs room.

The room is dark, but he doesn't need the light. He kicks the door shut and goes straight to the bed. He carefully lays Ichigo down on the bed. He throws the covers and the blanket he took from downstairs over his legs. The dampness on Ichigo's sweatshirt makes him realize he's still wearing a damp jacket.

"You went outside with your belly exposed." Ichigo narrows his eyes maliciously. He sits on the bed and tries to locate where Grimmjow is in the darkness. He's sure that all he can see in the darkness is the outline of a body and glowing eyes.

"I'm a Hollow." Grimmjow snaps his teeth. "I'll be right back, and you stay in bed." He pushes him back down onto the pillows with one finger. He hits him in the forehead, smiling evilly. He's sure he can see his fangs too.

Ichigo obediently lies down on the bed and covers himself with a blanket and a duvet. Grimmjow quick change his wet jacket into a warm sweatshirt. He runs back upstairs, skipping a few stairs. He is pleased to see that Ichigo is still in bed. Comfortably positioned, he lies on his back with his hands under his head.

"Are you warm?" Grimmjow asks, standing by the bed. He reaches under the covers and unclogs Kurosaki's feet. Ichigo wants to scream and take his feet away, but the iron grip on his ankles prevents him from doing so. His feet are still cold, but less so than before. They are slowly warming up. His pants have ridden up above his ankles. Grimmjow suppresses the groan that is building in his chest.

His hand involuntarily moves across the cool skin.

“I'm warmer.” Ichigo says quietly, his face almost hidden by the blanket.

"You're still cold, like the snow. What made you go barefoot." He says annoyed, but he's not. Protecting Ichi is nice feeling. Hollows take care of their own. No one else does for Ichigo like he does. No Shinigami would take care of him like another Vasto Lorde, because Ichigo isn't really a Shinigami. They wouldn't understand that other part of Ichigo.

Shinigami aren't like Hollows. And Arrancar are Hollows and they're kind of like Shinigami. They're both the same. They look out for each other. They're one group. Ichigo is his Fracción, just like he is the same to him. 

“You were gone.” A soft voice from under the covers brings him back to reality. “I went looking for you because you left and it got colder.”

“That’s not an excuse. That’s stupid.” Grimmjow smiles. “And you exposed yourself to even more cold? You’re an idiot, Ichi.”

"Shut up."

He laughs. “Move over.” He climbs onto the bed and crawls under the covers. Ichigo moves to the wall. Grimmjow lies down, his back to the door. We protect our own. Ichi is weak now, any threat that comes through the door will encounter Grimmjow first.

The bed is smaller than his bed in Las Noches, but that's even better. Less space, they can be closer, it'll be warmer. "Come here," he whispers.

Ichigo doesn't move, he can see his hesitation in the darkness. He pulls him closer. Berry gasps but doesn't fight, he lets himself be pulled closer to him. He feels the boy's warm breaths on the exposed piece of his collarbone. Ichigo's body is cold.

“You only stood there for a moment and you’re as cold as ice.” He mutters in displeasure. Ichigo’s feet are so cold they could literally be ice cubes. “I hope you’s not sick. And even if we fight anyway. No excuses.”

He wants to be more angry at him. He went barefoot in the snow, exposing himself to illness. Grimmjow knows it's not pleasant and he really wants to be pissed at the Shinigami, but he can't. Not when Ichi lies so trustingly next to him, so submissive to his orders and doesn't even fight. His breath tickles his skin, like a sweeter caress. He really wishes sometimes that he didn't have hierro. To feel it more.

“I'll be fine, I feel fine.” Ichigo mumbles.

Grimmjow just snorts. Pulling the blanket over the smaller boy's head. He freezes for a second when Kurosaki presses himself closer to him. He buries his face in his neck and wraps his arms around his waist. The smaller body fits him so perfectly.

"What are you doing?" He asks quietly. My body isn't warm. I'm dead. He wants to say it. Earlier, much earlier, if this had happened much earlier - he should have pushed him away, told him not to act stupid, forbid him from getting sick and to go away. Now it's impossible. Ichigo is his. He would do anything to protect him. In the pack, everyone takes care of each other. He doesn't want to push him away. "I'm cold." Instead he says. His body is definitely colder, maybe as cold as snow...

“Hush.” Ichigo smiles. He feels the slight movement of lips against his skin. “It’s nothing, you’re still warmer than the temperature at home, and it’s nice.” Ichigo says sleepily. “That’s definitely useful in the summer.” Ichigo’s still-cold nose tickles his collarbone.

Grimmjow smiles. “Summer?"

Ichigo hums in agreement. “I decided I’d save on air conditioning if you slept with me.”

"What do I get out of this?" He asks, his voice shaking involuntarily. Ichigo's body is getting warmer and warmer. He can feel the heat spreading through his body. They're warming each other up. 

Kurosaki's warm breath tickles him and heats the blood in his veins. It starts to flow faster, faster, faster, driven by the body next to his. He could put his hand on it and feel the curve of his hips. The nice curve of a firm ass. The gentle curve of his back. Ichigo was a Quincy, and maybe that's why his body is made up of the most beautiful curves Grimmjow has ever seen.

"What do you want?" Ichigo asks. His hand tightens on the material of the hoodie at Grimmjow's side.

What would he want from Ichigo? Many things. Fights, blood… And a few other things come to mind.

Fuck everything. Ichigo is his. He can claim everything. He lifts the boy's chin and kisses him. Brown eyes are wide open, Ichigo, completely surprised doesn't move,  but then... Grimmjow feels his small smile. Ichi closes his eyes and kisses him back.

Now Grimmjow's blood flows like boiling lava. Like a crazy ocean of fire packed in his veins. He turns Ichigo on his back and kisses him passionately. The boy's pulse quickens, rushes like a startled animal. And Grimmjow is the predator chasing them. Finally he catches them and uses his fangs.

Their kiss is gentle, but full of teeth and saliva and blood from the scratches of fangs. Hollow in a human body and Hollow. Instinct, always somewhere in sight, drives them. Ichigo moans softly as Grimmjow's lips move lower and lick possessively at his neck.

“This and much more.”

Ichigo eagerly agrees, he does not negotiate because they both already know that there is nothing to negotiate.

They lie there in the darkness as the minutes pass. Grimmjow stares out at the white blizzard outside the window. Ichigo has fallen asleep, his body already warm, heated from their kisses. Grimmjow's claws are possessively wrapped around his waist and braided into the boy's hair.

It's not what he expected when he came here, but it's okay. More so. He buries his nose in the orange hair and inhales the scent.

If he were smarter, he wouldn't have let it develop like this. He should have... fuck it. The human body might be weak, but it was so pleasantly soft and warm. Grimmjow closes his eyes and allows himself to sleep.

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