This is, really, just something I wanted to try in my spare time. I wanted to see this pairing, but I never did, so I decided to try it out on my own. I wrote this one shot like, I said, in my spare time.
Please forgive me for any OOCness or the like.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Otherwise it would be fan fiction.
Ulquiorra's lips were always chapped in spots where no one else could see, so when he was alone, he's run his tongue over the bottom lip just to taste the flesh and blood.
If he was ever to admit that he adored the taste, it would probably be in his usual nonchalant tone, with that melancholy look on his face. Even then, when he'd say it like it wasn't serious, because almost nothing seemed serious to him, that he'd be dubbed 'Oddling,' or something of the sort.
Ulquiorra Schiffer wasn't supposed to like.
Nnoitra's lips were different. They were smooth through-and-through, and though just the right size for his large mouth and face shape, they did seem rather thin on most angles. But he never paid attention to them– lips didn't seem important. Often, they just got in the way. It didn't occur to him that they helped people speak; anything that needed a proper brain was left to his fraccion, Tesla.
And sometimes, just sometimes, they both wondered about each other. Wondered about the lips the other possessed, so much different from their own. Occasionally, the two could only wonder what it would be like to touch the other Espada's lips with their own. It could be fiery, or it could be meaningless, depending on who made the first move, and how the other arrancar responded.
However, both of them knew it would probably never happen between them, ever. Ulquiorra knew Nnoitra was a sadistic, perverted bastard, unable to feel anyone in such a way, except for maybe that love-hate rivalry he and Neliel had. And Nnoitra knew that Ulquiorra would never have any sort of emotions, and if he did, would never show them outside of his mind, for he probably feared emotions would give him a weak point.
Even giving each other a try would be a waste of time. That much they were both sure about. Love between someone that could be crueller than anyone else and the most insipid life form to ever exist would fall apart like rotting cloth in seconds.
That, both of them could be sure of.
But even though they both knew it, it didn't mean they didn't want to try. The big question was should they even try? Would they be able to overcome the difficulties from Aizen, the rest of the Espada, and everyone else? Would they be able to work things out and be together, despite their differences? Would they, parts the species that was supposed to be unable to feel much more than hatred and malice, find that thing love?
Probably not. They knew it.
Ulquiorra watched with his large eyes as Nnoitra slept. The window turned his pale figure into a fair silhouette that Nnoitra would never have the pleasure of seeing, for in the human world, he slept at night, just like most humans.
It did often bring up the question of where and when Ulquiorra slept, though. Nnoitra slept on a bed at night, provided they weren't doing anything. His superior slept nowhere, and never. Sleeping, in the eyes of Schiffer, was a waste of precious time (that could be used serving whatever Aizen-sama told them to do).
They were on a mission in the human world, a mission that was usually full of ignorance and malice with Nnoitra's part in the play. Unless it had direct ties to their mission, Ulquiorra would sit back and watch. It was a waste of time and people if it wasn't related.
But it killed Nnoitra to know, that if Ulquiorra really wanted, he could utterly crush him. That wasn't the way things were supposed to go. Regardless, he acted like that wouldn't happen, acted like he didn't know about it, or that he simply didn't care.
Ulquiorra cared even less for things. He seemed to care for morality at times, but that was an illusion. The morality seemed to be there because he chose not to do things that were immoral when he could, but he only did that because it was irrelevant to what they were supposed to be doing.
He had no care for what was right and what was wrong. That much of the universe was simply irrelevant to what he was made for.
In fact, Nnoitra was sure Ulquiorra had detached himself from what made everyone else exist as they were. He had rid himself of emotions and desires, the two things that controlled almost every existing thing. And though he seemed to desire to consent to and oblige to every one of Aizen's desires, he was sure that too was a hoax. He just needed something to do— or maybe was repaying the favour for being turned into an arrancar.
Either way, it didn't matter. Perhaps Ulquiorra was the true one that should sit on the throne of heaven; after all, he had disposed of the things that left human traces left in the rest of them. Perhaps he was a true divine being.
(Nnoitra had to remember he wasn't supposed to think of such stupid things: Tesla had once brought up desire and emotions up on whim, and for some reason, the Espada couldn't stop thinking of it since.)
But that was beside the point. Though, maybe that was why he was (secretly?) So interested in the superior Espada.
Nnoitra did little more than dream of Ulquiorra... And his lips.
Said fourth Espada silently opened the window, the slight breeze swaying the black hair of his gigai. He stepped out without a sound, his pale body contrasting in the dark shadows of the night. The tails of his coat flapped gently in the quiet night, which could have given people the illusion of a stereotypical ghost... Of sorts.
The deep green eyes cast themselves towards the sky, looking at the countless stars of this world. He couldn't remember the last time he actually looked at them- nor did he really care.
Ulquiorra stood there for minutes, maybe even an hour or more, just staring upwards, and not once did he blink. His position didn't even change with the batting of an eye as he felt Nnoitra also come out of the room, much more quietly then he thought possible.
"What are you doing," his tone was so plain, so blasé, it sounded no where near a question. It barely sounded like a sentence or statement alone.
The fifth Espada gave a semi-quiet snarl; since when did this bastard have the right to say or inquire whatever he did? "What the hell does it look like!"
There was no reply. Yes, he could have thought up a retort if he really wanted to, but he didn't want to. Ulquiorra Schiffer never seemed to want anything.
But the silence... Of the silence was much more suffocating than both of their reiatsus combined into one huge, powerful force. It hung over them like a thick, itchy blanket, and it was even hard for the fourth Espada to resist scratching.
The fact that Nnoitra was both quiet and calm was somewhat rare. The company of one-another was strange, but oddly comforting. Though, getting either of them to admit it was like them saying that they cared about any common person on the street. They didn't, and everyone knew they would never.
They both had their secret desire, a desire that was exactly the same as the others: to hold them in their arms, to be able to kiss and hug them comfortable, to drag them into bed and—
And it was that desire that kept them on the same wavelength, the same state of mind, the same sudden impulse.
The same sudden impulse to lock those pairs of lips that were so different from the other.
Both were word- and thought- less as Nnoitra approached his superior, their wind slightly ruffling both of their black hair in unison. Their eyes locked, and the both of them stared blankly into the eyes of the other. A strange twist of matter brought their lips together, Nnoitra bending down a little to be able to reach Ulquiorra's mouth.
There was something in that kiss something that told them that this couldn't work. Neither of them could properly care for each other, neither of them could go day after day in the Espada being called weak by the other members for love. As their mouths opened and their lips parted, they knew they were just too different. Their tongues tied. They knew it couldn't work out.
They knew it for reasons because Nnoitra desired to be stronger, but Ulquiorra could beat him down. Ulquiorra could anger his "potential partner" easily and not give a shit. Too much of them contrasted, one could easily break the other.
As their lips broke apart from one another, they both understood, but cared not speak a word.
And in the finall act of this all, when Nnoitra left, they both knew it was not meant to be, no matter how much suffering it could bring them both.
Ulquiorra tried not to care, and Nnoitra took out his anger on this by ripping the best to shreds inside, making it as loud as possible.
(The fifth Espada had been completely wrong. It was impossible for anyone that wasn't a divine being to detach themselves like that, even if they pretended it. Ulquiorra had emotions- locked away. And he had desires, ones that may, eventually, drive him over the edge.)