Disclaimer: Plot is mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fanmade-fiction off of which no money is made.

Summary: Surviving Aizen was hard enough in and of itself. Dealing with probation thanks to Soul Society wasn't any better but it meant that they weren't eliminated all together. So a bit of a celebration wasn't out of the question. The only problem: fate seemed to like making things complicated no matter what was wanted otherwise and Yylfordt Granz wishes it didn't seem to enjoy having fun at his expense.

Author's note: Grimmjow/Yylfordt because I wanted it and because I couldn't find any with these two. Obviously canon-divergent because canon just doesn't exist in my universe. Warnings on a chapter by chapter basis but know that the premise of this fic is m-preg so if that is not your cup of tea then I would not suggest this fic. Also, this fic is pretty unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Always up for thoughts, comments, etc so don't be afraid to leave a review.

Prologue

The suggestion of a celebration in and of itself wasn't a bad idea considering the circumstances. The bad idea came from the lieutenant who brought the alcohol and said that it wasn't a celebration without it. The worst idea was going along with it regardless of the fact that it definitely was a bad suggestion.

Waking up, a low groan of agony escapes Yylfordt. Just what had been in what the woman brought? Staggering for what he hoped was the bathroom. he spends far too long with his stomach revolting to feel like this was a worthwhile choice of activities. Of course this leads to a necessary shower because that was just unbecoming and he felt disgusting. Once dressed, he stumbles for the mess hall to get something to eat that might ease what was pounding between his eyes.

"Too much fun, eh?" comes a sympathetic voice once he slumps into a chair.

"Th-the hell was anyone thinking?" he groans miserably as he glances up at the speaker and finds himself staring at the captain of Squad 13 which for some reason doesn't seem as much a surprise as he would have thought.

A cup is lightly pressed into his hands. "Drink that. It'll help. As for the thought-processes...well, it's been a long few years, Yylfordt. We were all tired of the circumstances," Juushiro responds quietly.

Bringing the mug to his lips, he sips the drink and while finding it bitter discovers that it helps immensely. "M-maybe," he agrees before pausing, "I just...Ugh, never again."

"I would certainly not advise enjoying that sort of drink too much as a rule especially with how...potent Lieutenant Matsumoto likes it."

With the headache subsiding, he gives into a bit of curiosity at this whole situation and asks, "Do you do this often?"

Juushiro chuckles. "Shunsui is a dear friend and he has a habit of over-imbibing. Besides, it was pretty foreseen after all that's been decided."

"Anyone else stumbled out?"

The male shakes his head. "You're actually the first one awake."

That was surprising since he tended to like to sleep in but Yylfordt wasn't questioning it. The headache was passing which was good enough. He just wishes he could recall where all the bruises he'd gotten came from when he'd showered because he had no idea.

And part of him was sure that it was best not to wonder too much. So he pushes it aside and sits with the cup cradled between his hands. Probation. They were on probation. But at least...at least they were safe.

He's halfway through the cup when he senses another and turns to watch Tesla stumble in. Red eyes narrow at the disheveled look to the blond before he'd set the cup down and move to him. It's proven a good idea when Tesla nearly takes a nasty tumble to the floor. Catching him, Yylfordt is not pleased at the sight of a darkening bruises on his cheek. "Tesla," he says quietly, "Please tell me that he didn't…"

"It wasn't Master Nnoitra," comes the immediate defensive reply that has him gritting his teeth because he knew better.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" he demands as he takes hold of the others chin and raises it to face him.

"It wasn't. Yylfordt…"

"Stop. Protecting. Him!" Yylfordt snarls out, "This doesn't help anyone let alone you when you defend that prick!"

Tesla tenses and tries to pull away but can't manage it and finds himself instead having to brace against his chest. "He didn't mean it," comes the weak reply, "He didn't...He doesn't take alcohol well, Yylfordt. That's all. He didn't mean to hit me."

The denial is on the tip of his tongue but he forces it back because he knew it wouldn't help. Tesla had never listened when it came to the violent male he served so pushing wasn't going to do anything but make it worse. So he just brings him to the chair next to him so he could observe the injury more clearly. "Yylfordt…"

"Accident or not, that was a shitty thing to do," Yylfordt says sharply as he lightly touches the skin around it hating the soft sounds of pain that escape from between the other's lips.

"H-He'll apologize later. He always does."

"Like that makes it any better!" Yylfordt retorts, "He has no reason to raise a hand to you! Not like this!" Feeling the other tense, he sighs and softens his voice, "I'm sorry, you just...You're a good friend, Tesla, and I don't like to see you in pain. Especially not caused by the Quinto you serve so loyally. It's not fair."

"It's okay," Tesla answers sliding a hand over his, "Besides, it's not a normal occurrence. And I agree that drinking isn't the way to handle things but...it was one of the only ways we had. It's not often and I'm sure it'll lessen from here on out. You don't need to worry."

"And if it doesn't?" Yylfordt asks looking at him intently, "What if it doesn't, Tesla?"

It's actually promising the cold smile that appears. "I'll make sure he regrets it. Do not think I would idly allow myself to be hurt. I'm capable of handling myself. He got this because I know what he's been through and it was a knee-jerk reaction when he was over his limit. I wasn't careful enough. He's quick-tempered but not abusive. I do know the difference. I appreciate the concern. I always have. But I promise you that it is fine."

"I'll hold you to that...until I see otherwise. Then I'm handling it," Yylfordt tells him sternly, "We've been friends too long for me to allow anyone to harm you; even someone you love."

There isn't a moment's pause before Tesla answers, "Deal."

Yylfordt settles at that and picks his cup back up taking a sip before murmuring, "Do you think we'll figure out what we're doing this way?"

Tesla is quiet a moment before answering, "I think it's as good a chance as we're ever going to get. He's gone. He cannot hurt us anymore. Let's take it as a win and see what happens day-by-day. Since you're looking peaked, I can only imagine that you had a pretty intense night."

"I...cannot actually remember last night," he admits which brings a sheepish smile, "It won't happen again because that is a most unbecoming reaction."

"I think considering things you deserved it. Besides, dealing with Di Roy all this time makes me wonder how you haven't just drowned in liquor."

Yylfordt chuckles bemusedly. "He...is a handful but...I'm capable of ignoring him somewhat."

"And when you can't?"

Yylfordt smirks. "I ask Shawlong to spar with him."

At that Tesla snickers. "I can certainly see that calming him down."

"Usually it knocks him out."

It was comforting; being able to talk to the other like this. Yylfordt had missed the ability to do so because it was dangerous to allow anyone to see connections beyond what was acceptable in a place like Las Noches. And a friendship between two different Espadas' fracciones was definitely something that couldn't be risked. So he'd let it go for now; the bruise. And he'd keep an eye on the blond just in case. Because he knew what Tesla felt for his Espada; knew that his judgement could be skewed due to those feelings.

And the only reason Yylfordt understood it was because he felt the same for the male he owed his allegiance to. And if fate was kind; that same Sexta Espada would never in his life find out the truth of the matter.

His considerations are pushed aside as they are joined by the others in various stages of hungover misery. Tesla snickers softly making him elbow him in the side. "Be courteous."

"I'm probably the only one who isn't hungover and miserable," he points out.

"Regardless, don't be a brat," Yylfordt retorts. Tesla merely smirks but goes quiet.

"Ugh, the fuck was in that?" Comes the growled tone of his Espada that has Yylfordt sighing and shaking his head.

"I'm pretty sure that you do not want to actually know. Which means avoiding it in the future, sir."

"F-fuck, I feel like my head is gonna explode…"

He felt bad, he really did but honestly it was hard to do so when the other looked so damned miserable and his hair looked askew...well more so than normal which was actually pretty impressive. Thankfully, Juushiro had yet to leave and soon has them situated with the same remedy, and Grimmjow grouchily settles.

At least until Nnoitra enters. It seemed that they could not be around each other without someone getting aggressive. Yylfordt isn't sure what to do but watches as the male makes his way around the room avoiding the narrowed-gaze and instead ends up beside Tesla. Yylfordt watches him tilt his head before a sigh escapes. "Clocked ya good did I?"

"It's fine," comes the quiet answer, "Just...try and find a better method of dealing with things would you, Master? You are going to self-destruct at this rate."

The male's jaw tightens but he merely brushes his fingers along the male's jaw before muttering, "Overbearing brat."

Something eases in Yylfordt at the sight but he wisely keeps his thoughts to himself and finishes his drink. Someone like Nnoitra would not take well to anyone pointing out things to him. Even good things. So he just pretends he sees nothing.

It was safer for all involved.

Once the cup is emptied, he slowly approaches his own Espada and slides into a seat in front of him. "I feel like someone used me as a gong," comes the grumbled mutter.

"Well, I suppose we had it coming for overindulgences," Yylfordt answers, "Though I'm sure it had to do with you trying to drink the woman under the table."

The look he receives is quite unkind and he cannot help the grin. "Don't ya dare look so smug, Granz," Grimmjow warns.

"Forgive me," he manages though he's sure he sounds anything but contrite at this point. It was really hard to take his King seriously when he looked so ridiculous. "Though...Perhaps you should erm….handle the bedhead."

He watches him slowly bring a hand up before groaning. "Fuckin'...I cannot even remember what the hell happened last night. Never, ever, fucking ever let me do that again. Ya hear me?"

"Absolutely," he responds. With a huff, the other downs the cup before muttering something Yylfordt cannot quite make out and retreats. The blond finds himself shaking his head and snorting. The male looked like he had a good time.

Well fucked, he realizes. That's what the other looked like; as if he'd had one hell of a bed tumble. And it's quickly followed by a familiar jealousy that he tries to squash down because he had absolutely no reason to feel like he did. It didn't mean it would make the feelings go away but he hoped the reminder would help him reign in his territorial instincts.

He rather envied whoever it was that made Grimmjow look that mussed. He envied them a hell of a whole lot.