Title: Breathe
Writer: Amariys
Word count: 573 words (drabbles)
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Grimmjow/Ulquiorra
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. No trademark infringement or profit meant from the writing of this story.
Summary: It was unbelievable how calm the Cuatro Espada could be even in this kind of situation, back pressed on the wall, with Grimmjow's hand wrapped around his pale neck, cutting off his air track.
Ulquiorra's breathing was still as soft as ever, Grimmjow noted with annoyance. It was unbelievable how calm the Cuatro Espada could be even in this kind of situation, back pressed on the wall, with Grimmjow's hand wrapped around his pale neck, cutting off his air track.
"Fuck, what the Hell is wrong with you, Ulquiorra? Why don't you fucking fight back?" Grimmjow could feel his temper flare. "You know I could so easily snap your delicate neck, yet you're still fucking calm. Do you want to die that much?!"
Ulquiorra's expression didn't even change. His green orbs just stared back calmly at Grimmjow's own blue pools. "Do you want to kill me that much, Sexta?" he asked in return.
Grimmjow let out a rough laugh. "Hell, yeah. I thought it's obvious by now." Just to proof his words, Grimmjow's fingers tightened around Ulquiorra's neck. This time, the superior of two couldn't hide the pained wince, earning a satisfied sound from his captor.
"I think you're lying," Ulquiorra said once he had controlled his expression back to emotionless mask again. He lifted his hand, slowly as to not startle Grimmjow, before setting it on the other man's chest. Through the warmth that was Grimmjow's skin, he could barely feel the Sexta's heart beating a little bit too fast inside. Ulquiorra's pale lips curved ever so slightly into a faint smirk as he continued in soft whisper. "I think … you want to have me rather than killing me."
Grimmjow would have said something—a denial or an argument—but the words turned into a guttural groan when Ulquiorra, that bastard, pushed his body into Grimmjow's, fitting his lean body against Grimmjow's more muscular one like they were fitting pieces of puzzle and letting the sixth espada felt every hard muscle that built his superior's body. The distinctive scent of Ulquiorra's filled Grimmjow's nostrils, driving him mad with no anger, but lust. Grimmjow's grip on Ulquiorra's neck loosened and the smaller espada took this chance to lean in even closer. Grimmjow could feel Ulquiorra's breath heating the skin just under his ear. He shivered.
"You … bastard." Even to Grimmjow's ears, his voice sounded weak.
If Ulquiorra wasn't a heartless bastard, he might actually laugh seeing the flush that now decorating his captor's face. As it was, his expression remained blank. "You can have me, Grimmjow. You've been behaving yourself so nicely in front of Aizen-sama lately. I shall give you a reward."
Even under Aizen's threatening reiatsu Grimmjow wouldn't admit the embarrassingly needy sound escaping from his lips at that moment. He was not giving in. Oh Hell no. It was purely Ulquiorra's fault for using such a dirty trick like pressing his knee oh-so-teasingly against Grimmjow's erection that made him growled and crushed their lips together in a rough kiss.
Neither one of them could be seen for the rest of that day. When Ulquiorra finally arrived for the meeting with Aizen the next day, everyone noted the way he walked a little bit stiffly, but no one commented on it. At least, not vocally. After all, Ulquiorra's hard gaze told anyone who dared they would immediately meet a slow, excruciating death, finished by tasting Ulquiorra's cero in point blank. Grimmjow's shit eating grin only widened when he caught the fourth espada glaring at him. He wouldn't mind a good fight. Perhaps, even better yet, another round of what they had just done a night ago.