This is my first fan fiction since fourth grade, and my first yaoi. I'm sorry if my writing disappoints; if you see any problems or have any suggestions, please review and tell me. Don't flame though…
Warning: if the rating didn't warn you, this contains profanity and male-on-male sex at some point. If it's not your cup of tea, click out right now. There's no need to flame me with your indignant "ewwww omg ur so sick wuts rong wit u??"
I do not even own a bottle of bleach. Neither do I own Bleach, the manga in any way, shape, or form, excepting fandom.
Sorry for the ridiculously long author's note/rant…
(by the way, this seems to be a two-parter at this moment.)
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"Hey, Ulquiorra-bastard."
The dark-haired, green-eyed Arrancar looked up slowly from what he'd been doing. "Yes, Grimmjow? What've you come to bother me about this time?" asked Ulquiorra calmly, albeit slightly tiredly. The trashy Sexta in his doorway was such a hassle—bothering him at all hours of the endless night.
"I still think you're a fool. Why didn't you just kill that orange-head while you had a chance? Now he's a pain in the ass that shows up every single fucking time to try and screw everything up. If I were you—"
"But you are not me, Grimmjow. I have explained why I did not eliminate him several times already. Is your intellect so feeble that you still do not understand? Trash is not worth the energy to dispose of," reiterated the calmer, cutting him off.
Grimmjow's eye twitched, and he suddenly stepped into the room and slammed the door. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?! He fucking sliced my arm off, and you're still saying he's not a threat?!!" Snarling, he grabbed at Ulquiorra's lapels, but the Cuarta Espada dodged easily.
"I've told you before, Grimmjow. Do not attack before assessing your opponent. Your haste has been your downfall before…trash."
"SHUT UP!" snarled Sexta, and he lunged forward again. His fingertips grazed Ulquiorra's sides, though, and he felt the green-eyed Arrancar twitch and falter slightly, though still managing to escape. EH?? Thought Grimmjow. What the—? He thought for a moment, wondering why Ulquiorra had acted that way. It wasn't as if he'd shocked the guy or whatever.
"Ohh…"said Grimmjow in sudden realization. He threw his head back and began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he doubled over, and hands on knees, he would've seen straight through his own Hollow hole if he could've opened his eyes.
"..I don't see what's so funny," remarked Ulquiorra, tone still neutral, but slightly miffed (if you really listened hard).
Grimmjow kept laughing. "What...is so…funny?" asked Cuatro, slightly annoyed.
"I just found your weakness, bastard!"Grimmjow pointed at him for as long as he could hold his arm out, but eventually had to prop his shaking body up again.
Now Ulquiorra was just confused. "I do have weaknesses, but trash like you will never find them."
Grimmjow finally stopped laughing. He unbent and looked the smaller Hollow straight in his lush, verdant eyes. His own eyes glowed with joy and triumph. "Oh, but I have," grinned the teal-haired man. "What, stupid? Want proof or somethin'?"
Ulquiorra's frown deepened. Taking advantage of the other's momentary confusion, Sexta tackled Cuatro, knocking him backwards onto the bed with a ploof. Grimmjow stood with his legs clamped around Ulquiorra's knees to stop him from moving. He leaned in, forearms braced on either side of Cuarta's head, and whispered in the ebony-haired Hollow's ear.
"You're ticklish."
"What?"
"You're ticklish."
"I am not ticklish."
Grimmjow leaned in even closer and breathed, "I can feel your whole body shivering when I get this close." Ulquiorra just twitched a little and gave him an annoyed, long-suffering look.
Sexta moved up to straddle Cuarta at the hips. He ran his fingers down Ulquiorra's sides, and the Cuarta Espada twitched and took a quietly shaky breath. "See?" grinned Grimmjow. Then he commenced to tickling the green-eyed Espada on the neck, the sides—anywhere he could reach.
Ulquiorra bit a blackened lip, trying not to twitch. He succeeded…for about five seconds. Then he was writhing on the bed, underneath his most annoying colleague, actually laughing due to said annoying colleague.
Grimmjow grinned. The guy wasn't so bad when he actually dropped the "I'm-so-cool-and-better-than-everyone-else-except-Aizen-sama-because-everyone-else-is-trash" thing. He tickled his superior harder. Though all this squirming around between his legs was starting to…ah…"give rise" to certain completely natural, perfectly normal bodily reactions.
"O-kay…."said Grimmjow, swinging a leg over his superior so that he wasn't straddling him anymore. "I think that's enough for today…"
"Hahahaha….what?" asked Ulquiorra, dazed from coming down from the high of being tickled (for the very first time). "Oh," he said, putting his stoic face back on. "If you wish to leave, do so."
Grimmjow dropped his lids and raised an eyebrow. "Back to high-and-mighty, I see."
"….Trash."
"Fuck you."
And with that last, sweet parting salute, Grimmjow left the room, suave, hands-in-pockets walk concealing the lump in his pants.
Ulquiorra sat up on the bed, silent, as he considered the consequences of this new weakness. Though strangely uncomfortable and pleasurable at the same time, in the end, his throat felt strange and his stomach hurt slightly. Though not a hard ache, it bothered him when he thought about the potential of this weakness being discovered and exploited by others—if trash like the Sexta Espada could find it, what was there to stop anyone—especially the higher-ranks—from finding it and, deciding that he was so much of a liability that he was not worth keeping around, killing him?
He decided to take action and rid himself of this potentially deadly (no irony intended) issue.
---
Grimmjow was walking along the hallways of Hueco Mundo, bored, when he suddenly felt a strange, if rather familiar, pressure. He stopped walking and turned around. "Hey, bastard, you know you're really bad at concealing your spiritual energy. Right?"
Ulquiorra stepped out from behind a wall. "I wasn't trying to conceal myself. I simply wished to give a little notice before showing myself to you."
"Bullshit. What do you want?"
"Well…you remember that…weakness you discovered?"
"What? You mean the fact that you're—"
Ulquiorra covered Sexta's mouth. "Not here. Let's go to my rooms." Grabbing onto teal-hair's wrist, he Sonidoed them to his door, then dragged the cursing Hollow into his rooms, closing the door behind them.
"What the fuck? Why'd you drag me over here for?!"
"I told you," said Ulquiorra, wanting so much to slap Grimmjow upside the head. "We're here about that…ticklishness issue. I believe that my…ticklishness is a weakness that could possibly be exploited by higher-ranked Espada." He paused, and said in a bit of a rush (he couldn't believe he was asking this piece of trash for assistance), "I also believe that the effects of this activity will lessen if one builds up a tolerance. To build a tolerance, I've concluded that I must be tickled regularly in order to build said tolerance. While I have tried to build up this tolerance myself, I've found that it is impossible to tickle oneself. Thus, in order to cure myself of this weakness, I need you to perform the act on me."
Grimmjow was smirking by this time. "So you admit that you need my help."
Irritated, Ulquiorra replied with a terse, "Yes. And if you don't help me, I'll be forced to dispose of you. I cannot risk the weakness being known."
Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright…"
"Good. Let's get started."
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( few hours later…)
"BUAHAHAHAHAhahahaSTOP! Stop! Hahaha…."
They weren't getting anywhere. No matter how many times Grimmjow tickled the damn guy, he kept laughing and squirming, and his ticklishness didn't seem to get any better at all. In fact, if anything, it seemed to be getting worse. And to top things off, all that squirming was doing the same thing to him as it had before. Except this time, he wasn't allowed to get off (no pun intended). AND THE GUY KEPT WRIGGLING. The Sexta Espada tried to stay on, but eventually he just really couldn't stay on anymore, so he just gave up and got up. Thank goodness for bastard Espadas ignorant to the ways of the world. Or else he might've been Ceroed to Soul Society.
A few seconds later, a tickle-high, hard-breathing Ulquiorra glared at him coldly and asked, "What are you getting up for? We're not done yet." Cuarta was propped up on his elbows, panting and very slightly flushed (if you used the standards of normal-colored people to measure). His legs were splayed wide over the edge of the rumpled bed, making for quite the suggestive and lascivious picture.
Ohhhh boy. That really did nothing good for the whole situation down under. He had to admit, horrible personality aside, the guy was actually quite attractive—those big green eyes and soft, fluffy black hair…that delicate face, slim body, and small bone structure…Waaaait a minute. He was not thinking about how bangable-looking someone he was going to kill was. Nope. Negative. Oh fuckin' goddamn hell no.
"Well?" said Ulquiorra impatiently. "We have a timetable to stick to, so hurry up and get back on me."
"No!" said Grimmjow.
"You said you would, now get back here and finish what you started."
"NO!"
"Why not?!"
"Because…uh…" Sexta was at a loss for words. He wasn't going to have to tell Ulquiorra about the birds and bees, was he…?..
"..And what is that thing you're trying to hide in your pants?!"
Fuck.
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"…and so, after the thing gets put in, they have something called 'sex', okay? And that's all."
After several extremely embarrassing hours of trying to explain the concept of sex to someone who obviously had no idea where children came from and who was very curious to learn, he was relieved. Pretty sure I answered all his questions…
"Wait. The thing just has to go in a hole or some sort of tunnel, right?"
"Uh...yeah. So that's why masturbation works."
"…so….technically, it neither has to be a vagina or, in fact, a female at all."
"…Uh…that's right…"
"So it could be with another male."
"….Yeees…" Oh god this is awkward. ISN'T HE DONE YET??
"Oh."
Silence.
"I was just curious as to the nature of the thing in your pants. And why it was there."
Embarrassed, Grimmjow tried to save some semblance of dignity with an indignant, "I thought you had one too. Don't you ever get like that?"
Ulquiorra put a finger on his lip and hummed thoughtfully. "…well, only once or twice upon waking."
"See? It just sort of happens sometimes."
"Oh…" they sat there in awkward silence for a bit. "You can leave, if you like, Sexta."
He did. Wasn't as if the first session had produced any success, anyhow.
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They kept at the tickle sessions, even though they didn't seem to be making Ulquiorra any less ticklish than he was originally. Ulquiorra, now informed upon the nature of erections and what must be done to alleviate them (though thankfully for the Sexta Espada, he still thought that they just sort of happened sometimes with no warning, and not because of the intense grinding action of hips on hips.) allowed Grimmjow to get up and rest for short periods of time instead of cracking a whip and demanding that he keep on.
END PART I
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(and here's the preview for part II)
Ulquiorra was thinking again upon the subject of his ticklishness (something that never ever ever ever boded well for Grimmjow). It should've been much better, and yet still, he remained as sensitive as the first time. There was no improvement the way there should've been, and that bothered him. A lot.
Out of options in the isolated night of Los Noches, he decided to take a trip to the human world and search for information. Apparently, there was thing called the "Internet", which was like a giant meeting of everyone in the world, and all the books and information in the world, all compressed into a screen, a sort of board with buttons on it, and an oval stone with two buttons on one end. Unfortunately, as the "Internet" was a wholly human invention, he had to get a gigai in order to use it. And to get a gigai, he had to go to that idiot Szayel.