#ch:Nnoitra

[m3kuroshirt]

Buy Me Dinner First

GrimmIchi challenge #5, college au

Challenged by: @kuroosden

Word count: 1278

Theme/trope: miscommunication

Required Words: disclose, penalty

Warnings: nsft talk, suggestive conversations, crude language

When Grimmjow invited the cute nerd who always sat in the front of his statistics class over to study, he hadn’t meant actually studying. He figured even the nerd would know that much. And yet, when he answered the door to his dorm room, there stood Ichigo, in jeans and a blue t-shirt, book bag slung over his shoulder and a binder cradled in his arms. And there stood Grimmjow, low-rise jeans on, bare foot, no shirt, hair carefully styled to look as casual and messy as possible without actually being tangled. They stared at each other for a moment, Ichigo’s face turning more and more red by the second. Finally, he blurted out “I’m sorry! I must have misread the time!”

As Ichigo started to back up, Grimmjow felt as though his chance to talk to the other boy ever again was slipping away. “Wait!” he blurted out. Ichigo paused, wide eyed. Grimmjow’s tongue stumbled over his words as his brain struggled to keep up with his mouth. “Um…uh, it’s…I’m the one who mixed up the time! You, uh, you’re fine, ok? So, uh, come inside. I’ll…get dressed…” He took a step back as he spoke, hoping he sounded inviting and not just weird. There was a moment’s pause, and Grimmjow could feel his heart thud against his ribcage, could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

“O-ok,” Ichigo said finally, and he hesitantly stepped into the room. Grimmjow silently released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he shut the door. He quickly grabbed a shirt from his closet while Ichigo sat on the bed. It was a single room, tiny with a small, uncomfortable bed, one closet, a desk with a chair across from the bed, and a counter that ran along the back wall. Bathrooms were communal, something that Grimmjow wasn’t particularly fond of, but it wasn’t the worst. At least they were clean.

Once he had a shirt on, Grimmjow joined Ichigo and sat next to him on the shitty mattress. “So…uh…” he tried to start, but it was rather difficult to come up with something to say about classwork when he hadn’t wanted to study at all in the first place. Luckily, Ichigo took over.

“I thought we could start with reviewing last week’s lesson and then move onto the prep for this week,” he suggested. Grimmjow didn’t really have any alternatives, so he nodded.

“Yeah, uh, that sounds good.”

***

“That one’s wrong too. So that’s…thirty push-ups,” Ichigo concluded. Grimmjow groaned, but got down on the floor anyway. “Don’t complain so much. You’re the one who wanted to implement a penalty for the practice questions.”

Grimmjow huffed in annoyance, but he started doing the push-ups anyway. He counted in his head. It wasn’t so much for the sake of motivating himself that he suggested the idea of a penalty to Ichigo. It was more for the sake of his own restlessness. The longer he sat near the orange-haired, brown-eyed beauty, the more he wanted to touch, to brush up against his shoulder, to run his fingers through the other’s hair…and that meant he was fidgety. At least this way, he could try and focus that energy elsewhere.

Sweat slid down his temple as he finished, cheeks heated and arms starting to feel stiff. He had been getting a lot of questions wrong. As he sat back on his knees, Grimmjow looked up to see Ichigo staring at him. When their eyes met, the other young man blinked and looked away abruptly, but Grimmjow could see a rosy colour dusting his cheeks. Interesting.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Grimmjow was interrupted by the door bursting open. “Oi! Jaegerjaquez! Did ya fuck ‘im yet?!” a rather annoying voice called. Grimmjow felt his cheeks turn redder and he glared at the door where a freakishly tall, thin man stood.

“Shut the fuck up Nnoitra,” he snapped. He snuck a glance at Ichigo, who was watching the two of them with wide eyes. Nnoitra just aimed a smug grin at him…until his eyes caught sight of the books in Ichigo’s lap and the open binders. The tall man blinked and squinted at the two of them, smile sliding off his face.

“Wait, are you actually studying?” he asked suddenly. Grimmjow opened his mouth to respond, but Ichigo beat him to it.

“Yeah, what else would we be doing?” He was tense, clearly annoyed. Grimmjow sent a prayer to whichever deity was available that Nnoitra would drop the subject and just leave. Or get struck by a really random strike of lightning. Either one would work.

Apparently, the answer to his prayers was ‘no’, since Nnoitra neither dropped dead nor stopped talking. “…you get dropped as a baby or somethin’? Who the fuck actually ‘studies together’? He totally invited you over to fuck.” Ichigo shut his book in his lap.

“Well, he failed to disclose that part,” he retorted. Nnoitra raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything to make the situation worse, Grimmjow cut him off.

“Get out before I call Szayel to come and get you.”

Nnoitra glared at him. “The fuck you would,” he spat out. Grimmjow raised his eyebrows now, and pulled out his phone. “Fuck! Fine. Fine! I’m going!” The door slammed shut as Nnoitra scrambled away, no doubt eager to avoid being dragged away by his brother.

The silence after the slam of the door was deafening. Grimmjow took a deep breath and turned to face Ichigo. The orange haired student had his eyes on the floor, his things all packed up, face as red as a tomato. “I…is that why you weren’t dressed when you answered the door?” he asked finally. Grimmjow felt his own cheeks heat up.

“Uh. Yeah.” He stared at the wall, suddenly unable to handle looking at the other. “Sorry…’bout the miscommunication…”

“Oh.”

The two of them were silent for a while longer, each lost in his own thoughts. Grimmjow felt uncomfortable, like the air inside the room was thicker, pressing on him from all angles. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, to tell Ichigo that it was ok if he wanted to go, that they would never have to speak again if he didn’t want to, but the other man spoke first.

“Dinner.”

Grimmjow blinked and frowned. He looked up at Ichigo, not quite sure what mental aerobics he’d done to get from their current situation to that word. “Huh?”

Ichigo shifted from foot to foot, clutching at his bag, but amber eyes fixed on Grimmjow’s. “Dinner. That’s your penalty. For not telling me properly, you owe me dinner.” Grimmjow tilted his head.

“…not that I’m disagreeing with you…but…aren’t you like, angry? Don’t you want to never see me again, and all that jazz?”

Ichigo shrugged and fidgeted with the strap of his book bag again. “I mean, I’m more embarrassed that I missed what you were getting at. And…” he glanced at the door, as if expecting Nnoitra or someone else to come waltzing in. When nothing happened, he continued, “…the more I think about it, the more I think it’s kinda cute that you didn’t try to correct me and just met me where I was. But I’m still not exactly thrilled that you weren’t clear on what you wanted to do. So. Dinner. You’re buying. Let’s go.”

Grimmjow stared at him for a moment. Then he grinned. “Alright, I can do that,” he agreed, standing up and grabbing his wallet. “Leave your stuff here.” He gestured to the bed. Ichigo dropped his books and bag on the bed. Then he followed Grimmjow out the door.