AN: Kind of a random little story to give myself a break from my larger story. The inspiration behind this was given to me by a scene SexyBleachGuys had envisioned and told me about. After they shared the scene with me, I just couldn't resist! Thanks, doll~
Anyway, enjoy~
He stood, dagger in his left hand, his right fisted in blood drenched, greasy strands of once pale hair. His shirt had been torn; desperate hands clutching at anything they could reach to try to stop him. As his victim finally choked on his last breath, his body fell limp and finished tearing the fabric away, hand still wrapped in the shredded front of it.
Plains of smooth, tanned skin and rippling muscles glistened with a sheen of sweat in the gritty light filtering through the dingy warehouse window. He unclenched his fist, releasing his hold on the dead man's hair. The body fell to the concrete floor with a dull thud. He wiped the blade of his butterfly style dagger clean on his torn and faded jeans before flipping it closed with a grace and ease that suggested a very intimate knowledge of how to handle such a weapon. Heavy, leather hiking boots thumped across the dirty concrete as the man crossed the open space of the ground floor, the sound echoing softly from the solid walls.
Vivid cyan eyes scanned the shadowed space, sparkling with adrenaline and blood lust and daring another to jump at him from behind one of the random support columns. Their blades couldn't touch him, their guns were useless as fear made their aim waver. He was unstoppable; an animal, a perfect predator, a Hunter, the best at what he did.
He crossed in front of a window, the dust filtering through the air illuminated in the feeble light as it drifted in the stale room. His features became visible for that brief moment; a strong jaw, sharp, angular features and a mess of unruly blue hair; all splattered with a fine, reddened mist.
A sound echoed through the mostly empty space; a thump followed by the terrified murmur of a voice. Full lips parted in a grin full of sin; revealing perfect, white, over sharp teeth. Blood cooled and dried on his bare torso, his jean clad thighs, dripped from his red stained hands. But not from his butterfly knife, oh no. That was clean and gleamed with a malice all of it's own. A malevolence to match it's wielder's.
The man flipped it open again; toying with it, flipping it about and twirling the handle between long fingers. His grin grew, consuming the bottom of his handsome face at the whimpers from the back of the closed off warehouse.
His prey, the person he had been sent after, made a run for it. Laughter echoed through the large space, the deep baritone tinted with madness and blood lust.
The chase was short lived. A large hand found it's way into dark hair. A single, sharp yank brought the man to his knees. The blade whipped around in skilled hands, a soft whoosh accompanying it's motions as it cut through the air.
He yanked on his prey's scalp, pulling a frightened face to look up at him. Brilliant blue shone and gleamed in the dim light, swirling with chaos and an unnatural joy for the hunt.
"n...no...please..." The prey item, a weak man who had wronged his boss, begged in a breathy whisper. The front of his tailored suit pants darkened and the distinctive scent of fear and piss wafted to a sensitive, strait nose.
Pathetic. He sneered and brought his gleaming blade in a swift arc across his target's throat. The man's shitty brown eyes widened in comic fashion, his hands clawing at the wound. A beautiful crimson flowed between his fingers, staining the front of his grey suit and pooling below him.
The Hunter, grin back in place, snagged the man's right hand away from it's place in trying to hold his esophagus closed. With practiced motions, he cut the man's ring finger away and wiped his blade clean across the sleeve of the dying man's jacket. He stepped back, watching as the man gurgled and finally fell to the floor in a heap. A perfect kill. His boss would be happy, maybe even reward him again.
Cerulean eyes looked fondly down at the knife in his hand before he tucked it way in his back pocket. Turning on his heel, a soft whistled tune left his lips as he sauntered toward the exit. Bodies made up a path for him to follow; torn, mutilated, reeking of fear and cowardice as they cooled.
He paused to grab his trench coat from the box he had draped it over when he had first entered. The blood didn't bother him, but it would bother any citizens he happened to pass on his way. He was told to be careful.
Shrugging into the dark colored coat, the man wrapped it tight about himself and shoved his stained hands deep into the pockets before exiting the warehouse. Fresh snow crunched under his boots, his breath plumed out in the cool, crisp air and a smile creased his lips.
His presence drew the attention of all around him, as it always did. Word spread quickly in this world, in this city. Citizens crossed to the other side of the street, eyeing him like he was a dangerous animal. He smiled to himself. He was a dangerous animal.
Just down the street from the warehouse, a black vehicle was parked, the engine on, tinted windows preventing curious onlookers from glimpsing what lay within. As he approached the doors were opened by his driver. The driver bowed slightly, holding the door for him as he slid into the vehicle and closing it behind him before returning to the drivers seat and pulling away from the curb.
"A successful hunt, I presume?" A smooth voice asked. Seated in front of him on the opposite bench seat was his Handler; a man with wild, orange hair that had been allowed to grow until it framed boyish features and a strong jaw.
A grunt and a smirk were his answer.
"Yes, you're right, Grimmjow. I should know not to doubt you by now." The orange haired man said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He rested his elbow on the windowsill of the car and placed his chin in his hand as he watched the city go by outside.
Their partnership was perfect in every way. He did the tracking after receiving word from the boss, then turned Grimmjow loose to chase the target down like a handler releasing a vicious attack dog. Taking the role of Handler, he never failed to find the prey and Grimmjow, his Hunter, never failed to catch and kill it. They had quickly become the most feared men in all of the city's underworld, an unstoppable force, making their boss into a rich and powerful man.
"Do we need to make a stop at the clinic?" The second man asked, glancing at his blue haired partner's blood stained features. He pulled a white handkerchief from the inside of his leather jacket and tossed it to the man.
Grimmjow easily snagged it and wiped it down his face, clearing the drying blood away from his handsome features. Sighing a quiet breath, he took a whiff of the bloodied cloth before setting it on the leather seat beside him and pulling his coat open to reveal his blood smeared, thickly corded upper body.
"Nah. They were pathetic." His deep voice rumbled out, smooth yet grating in the lush confines of their private vehicle. Grimmjow shrugged out of the trench coat, unmindful of the still sticky blood he was smearing across the plush leather seats. Their driver would clean it.
"Very good." The orangette said as he watched muscle ripple beneath smooth, flawless skin as the man across from him pulled out of his coat. "Allow me, we're on our way to see the Don." He said as though it explained everything. And it did. They both had to be presentable before their boss and his associates.
He slid from his seat, kneeling on the floor of the car between them and grabbed the soiled handkerchief from the bench seat next to Grimmjow. Positioning himself between the bluenette's legs, he ran the cloth down the plains of golden skin and washboard abs before him.
Grimmjow spread his legs further, making more room for the man kneeling between them and threw his muscular arms over the back of the seat, leaning back and making himself comfortable as he watched. Slim fingers danced across his chest, tracing the valley between his pectorals and down along his ribs.
"You like the blood as much as I do, don't you, Ichigo?" The blue haired hit man asked, his voice purring out in a seductive baritone.
"You know I do" Ichigo answered in a quiet, entranced voice as he continued wiping the sticky substance from his partner's glorious body.
Grimmjow hooked a finger under the smaller man's chin, pulling his face up and drawing him forward. "It drives you wild, doesn't it? Makes you hard..." He murmured against petal soft lips.
Ichigo whimpered slightly, nodding his head in answer as he stared into deep, swirling blue fire. His palms itched and the front of his tailored dress slacks had grown tight.
"Give in, Ichigo..." Grimmjow purred, nipping at the soft lips that brushed his own. "Come with me on the next hunt instead of sitting in here and waiting...I could make it worth your while"
"Grimm..." Ichigo said in a breathy voice, fingers still dancing along the now clean torso of his partner. "You know I'm much too civilized for that... You're the animal, not me..."
Grimmjow smirked and seized the smaller man in a searing kiss. One of these days, he'd get the orange haired lad to go with him. For now though, he was content to enjoy what the second hand blood he brought back splattered on himself did to the younger man.
Ichigo practically crawled into his lap, wrapping his arms around the bluenette's thick neck and biting down on his full bottom lip. A deep, primal growl rumbled through Grimmjow's broad chest.
The city rolled by around them; tall office buildings of shining glass and steel, busy streets and bustling crowds. The blood smeared handkerchief fell from Ichigo's hand, landing forgotten on the floor of the car. Big hands, tools of murder and yet capable of being so gentle, began working on the buckle of his leather belt. Ichigo linked his fingers through thick, silky blue hair as he licked and nipped down the man's jaw line and neck.
The driver quietly reached behind himself and slid the darkly tinted partition that separated the front of the vehicle from the occupants closed as to not disturb his masters. They had plenty of time until they reached the Don's mansion on the edge of the city.
Ichigo yanked his unbuttoned dress shirt off as he lifted his hips, letting Grimmjow pull the slacks over the curve of his butt. As soon as the shirt was forgotten, he reached down and made quick work of the bigger man's old jeans. Grimmjow lifted himself off the seat for a moment, pulling the pants down far enough to allow for easy access, his already hard member pressing into Ichigo's as he did.
The orange haired man gasped slightly and reached his hand inside black, silk boxers to free Grimmjow's heavy cock. The bigger man hummed at the touches and caresses of the skilled fingers dancing along his shaft. He reached out toward the side of the car and rummaged around in the door compartment until he found what he was looking for.
Tongue plundering Ichigo's mouth, Grimmjow popped the cap of the tube off with his thumb and let it fall to the floor. He squeezed some of the contents onto his fingers before dropping the tube on the seat next to him. He let his index finger trace the seam of the smaller man's cheeks before circling it around his puckered entrance.
"Grimm... Don't tease me." Ichigo said with as much force as he could muster as he continued to slowly stroke the bigger man's cock. He was rewarded with a deep chuckle before that teasing finger plunged into his entrance. He arched his back, inhaling sharply while his hands found their way to Grimmjow's strong shoulders.
Grimmjow pumped his hand back and forth a few times before adding a second finger, delighting in the panting breaths and barely constrained whimpers from the man straddling his lap. "What am I, Ichi?" the bluenette purred into the man's ear as he scissored his fingers.
"Haah... You're...You're an animal..." Ichigo panted out, nails digging into the tanned skin below his fingers.
"That's right... I'm the King, aren't I, Ichi?" Grimmjow asked in a low, husky voice. He added a third finger and Ichigo cried out at the added size.
"Y...Yesss!" Ichigo let his head fall to the man's shoulder, burying his face in his thick neck. He panted against the heated skin; kissing, licking, biting as he pushed back against the fingers thrusting in and out of him.
Grimmjow growled and pulled his fingers away, smirking at the whimper that came from his lover. He grabbed the tube beside him and squeezed a generous amount onto his cock before dropping the bottle to the floor and grasping slim hips.
He lifted Ichigo up, taking a moment to position himself before slamming the smaller man back down. Grimmjow's moan was matched by the orangette. They sat still for a brief moment, giving Ichigo time to adjust to his large size before the smaller man rose in his lap and slowly lowered himself again, pulling another deep moan from Grimmjow.
Soon enough, the bigger man was pounding up into him, corded arms wrapped tight around his waist, big hands splayed across his back. Grimmjow grunted and growled his pleasure, sinking his teeth into the toned chest before him. Ichigo cried out at the sharp pain and reached between them to wrap his thin fingers around his neglected cock. He began pumping in time with Grimmjow's brutal thrusts while he rose and fell in the man's lap.
"Say it." Grimmjow growled, soothing the red teeth marks on Ichigo's chest with his tongue.
Ichigo gasped as a big hand pulled his own away from his cock and started pumping him faster.
"Say it" Grimmjow growled into his ear.
"Youhnnn..." His words melted into a loud moan as the man's cock ruthlessly pounded against his prostate. "You're...the Kiiiing–!" Ichigo cried, his nails digging furrows into the tanned flesh of Grimmjow's muscled chest.
Grimmjow moaned and thrust up with even more force as tight, heated walls pulsed around his member. The orange haired man's cry was followed by his release; the white, sticky ropes of his seed coating Grimmjow's hand and belly.
The bluenette thrust a couple more times, moaning his own pleasure before the constricting heat of Ichigo finally ripped his orgasm from him, draining everything he had to give. He grunted as he released, wrapping his arm tighter around the smaller man as he rode out the waves of their euphoria.
A slight rapping sounded from the other end of the cabin before the tinted partition slid open an inch or two. The quiet, polite voice of their until then mute driver spoke up, doing a valiant job at hiding his fear of interrupting his dangerous employers. "We have almost arrived at the Don's home, sirs."
Grimmjow's deep voice chuckled through the spacious back seat of their car and he glanced out the window to see the imposing, wrought iron gates of the Don's mansion looming before them. Ichigo scrambled from his lap, face tinting a delicious shade of red as he fixed his pants and quickly slid back into his button up shirt.
The bluenette cleaned himself up with the discarded, red stained handkerchief and tucked his softening member back in his boxers before pulling his haggard looking jeans back up to ride low on his hips.
The car was pulled around a circle drive to stop in front of large double doors. The driver exited and walked around, opening the door for his employers and bowing respectfully as he held it.
Ichigo climbed out of the vehicle, stepping aside to allow room for his Hunter to exit. Grimmjow threw his trench coat over his shoulder and gracefully climbed from the car, pulling his zipper up and buttoning his pants as he stood to his full hight. His customary, slightly unhinged, toothy grin was back in place as he confidently strode forward, his satisfied Handler at his side.
They ascended the wide staircase to the front doors. Their boss' henchmen took one look at the duo and nodded, opening the doors for the Don's prized pair of hit men. It wouldn't do to keep the Don waiting, nor would it be good for their health to deny these men entrance.
Ichigo and Grimmjow strode down the elaborate hallways, their footsteps echoing quietly on the black and white tile. The main corridor lead them to another set of double doors, voices and the sounds of dishes and glasses clanking quietly came from the other side. The bluenette was about to push the doors open when a small hand latched onto his upper arm. He spun, teeth bared in a sneer full of threat and looked down on the stick of a man who had dared touch him.
The man pulled his hand away as if it were burned before clearing his throat and pushing a pair of wire frame glasses up his straight nose. Dark eyes sparkled intelligently behind the lenses and straight, black hair framed a narrow face and sharp chin. "You cannot interrupt, especially while dressed as if you just committed murder."
The bluenette chuckled while his Handler smirked. "Ah, Uryu, he did just commit murder" Ichigo said, turning back to the doors and flinging them wide for his Hunter and himself before the Don's glorified secretary could stop them.
The Don always had loved a good show, and tonight's dinner was meant to be just that. They were entertaining the heads of many other crime families from around the area. One in particular had been causing problems, going against the Don's back and not playing very nicely. His men had been taken care of, the head lacky's finger rested in Grimmjow's pocket, right next to his knife. Tonight's dinner was less about the pleasantries and more about making a point.
Sharp, cool cyan eyes followed his Handler's gaze to rest on the dead target's superior; seated at the Don's left hand side and in perfect position to watch the feared team enter the room. All eyes were directed at them as the heavy wooden doors swung on their hinges and the room fell silent.
"Ah! Grimm, Ichi" A watery, distorted voice rang out, shattering the pregnant silence. The two men bowed respectfully to the Don before striding to his side. They were pinned with eerie, gold on black eyes filled with a dangerous mirth. His odd gaze was only accentuated and sharpened by his pale complexion and silvery, shoulder length hair, which had been pulled back into a low tail at the base of his neck. His crisp, white suit was pristine and a deep purple shirt, the top few buttons left open, under the white jacket finished off his startling image. "I presume yer hunt went well?"
"Of course, sir" Ichigo answered politely, a small smile tilting his pink lips as he watched his partner take confident strides around the head of the table to stand behind the slimy bastard that thought he was sneaky. All eyes followed the notorious bluenette's predatory, graceful movements.
Grimmjow's grin consumed his face, barring his perfect teeth. He leaned over the man's shoulder, resting a big hand on the back of the man's chair. Bulging muscle tensed as the Hunter gave it a quick, powerful shove and scooted the man's chair in until his stomach was pressed roughly into the edge of the table. Grimmjow's shirtless upper body radiated an oppressive heat and he growled menacingly under his breath as he leaned over further to drop his prize into the man's glass of red wine. He straightened and stuffed his hands back in his pockets casually, as though the blood stains across his worn jeans hardly mattered in a room full of powerful men in suits.
"Good, good. You two go get cleaned up an ya can join us fer dinner, then" The Don said with a twisted grin to match his prized Hunter's.
The two hit men bowed again before turning and leaving the room.
Shiro smiled as benignly as he could and folded his black nailed hands over the wooden table. He leaned back, eyes flashed in the candle light and waved forward a servant. "I believe our guest could use a new glass of wine" He said in his lilting voice.
The servant bowed and rushed off. The Don turned his haunting gaze back to the man seated at his left.
His eyes were wide as he stared at the severed finger sitting at the bottom of his half full wine glass, the unmistakable golden ring of his family glittering at the very base of it. Small bubbles rose in the tainted liquid, a mirky cloud of a darker red color swirling out from the ragged end of the digit.
The rest of the guests quickly recovered, ignoring the stunned man as the reminder of just who they were associating with sunk in. Shirosaki Ogichi was the youngest head of a crime family in the city, inheriting the family from his deceased father at the tender age of 22. It was rumored he killed the man himself, but it was bad business to speak of such things and so it would stay just that; a rumor. Since he took over barely a year ago, Shiro had rose to the top of the ranks in no time, quickly gaining a brutal and well deserved reputation. His favored hit men were the most renowned in the underworld and he didn't hesitate to send them after anyone who wronged him and many who never got the chance to.
Tonight was a show of power. Tonight, the guests of Shiro's dinner would be deciding weather or not to accept an invitation into the Don's family, or go against him as a rival family. The stakes had been raise and everyone in the room knew Shirosaki meant business and was not to be taken lightly.
The servant arrived with another glass of wine and silently placed it beside the tainted one before disappearing into the background again.
"Please, don't be shy, Ginjō." Shiro spoke up from the head of the table, his watery voice taking on an all too polite edge. "If I wanted ya dead, my Hunter would a taken care of ya while he was deliverin' yer gift." He added confidently, his tone conversational and civil.
With a hand that only shook slightly, Ginjo took up his fresh glass of wine and tilted it to his lips. His eyes darted to the opposite side of the table, a few seats down; briefly settling on a man with calm, brown eyes and a deceivingly kind smile. The motion did not escape the Don's notice.
"What is this 'hunter' of yours, Shirosaki?" The very man Ginjo had looked to asked from his place down the table. "We have heard much of your infamous hit men."
"Yes, there are many rumors circulating around the city, both on the surface and in the underworld." Another guest spoke up. Now that someone had broken the silence, they seemed more willing to speak with the powerful, mysterious new Don.
"Can't be givin' all a my secrets away, now can I?" Shiro laughed, his golden eyes flashing in warning toward the man who had first spoken. Aizen Sosuke was a cold and manipulative man; one Shiro would be sure to keep his eye on.
As if on cue, the mentioned hit men strode through a second set of doors that were located behind the head of the table and Shirosaki. All gazes swung to pin them with calculating looks. The Don simply smiled, interlacing his fingers where his hands rested on the table edge. Leaving his hands in the open and away from any obvious weapons was a symbol of confidence and he knew the importance was being noted by all of his guests. Not to say that he was vulnerable, oh no. Shirosaki was armed, as well as all of his servants, and of course his Hunter and Handler were there.
Ichigo strode to stand behind his right shoulder. His attire was opposite of the Don's. He wore a deep purple, nearly black jacket with long coattails, slacks to match of the same color and a white button up and bow tie. His vibrant orange locks were tied back in a style much like the Don's own hair, a few shorter strands left to frame his face. He looked every bit as powerful and prestigious as the rest of the gathered men in the room.
Grimmjow took his place at the Don's left shoulder, flashing the man to his own left a wide, sharp toothed grin before his features took on a serious look and he appraised the men that gathered around the table with the eye of a predator. He had replaced his torn, blood stained jeans with a pair of dark, acid washed ones. His formerly bare torso was covered with a black, tight fitting, V-neck shirt that still left nothing to the imagination. His silver handled, ever present butterfly knife jutted from his back pocket, the shine of the chrome standing out against his dark attire, making the threat it posed obvious.
Shiro carefully watched the reactions of his guests, powerful and high standing men one and all. He noted many looks of curiosity and surprise, but it was Aizen's all too calm gaze that held his attention. "Have a seat, boys. Yer entitled to a good meal after a long day's hard work" The Don said, a smirk stretching his pale lips as he continued to stare down the table.
Ichigo and Grimmjow took their seats, one on either side of their boss respectively. The man next to Grimmjow, Ginjo, blanched slightly as the bluenette took his seat between him and the Don, but recovered well and nodded his head in friendly, civil greeting.
"These must be the rumored demons themselves, I take it" A soft voice intoned from the place just to the right of the orange haired Handler. Byakuya Kuchiki had already struck up a truce and agreement with the rising crime lord. Some of his men were even on stand by in the mansion incase the need for backup should arise, but even he had yet to meet the two men that had joined their table in person.
"Course! Where are my manners?" Shiro laughed, showing off a blue stained tongue and spread his arms wide before giving a twirling motion with his finger. Servants, all dressed in black suits, white shirts and purple bow ties, filtered into the room, carrying trays of steaming food and fresh wine. Shiro continued his introductions as they set the table. "These are my right hand men! Ichigo Kurosaki" He swept his arm toward the orangette, who bowed his head slightly. "And Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez"
"A pleasure" The raven haired male said in a soft voice, looking from one man to the other.
Shiro raised his wine glass in toast as the servants finished setting the table. All the men around the large dinner table followed his lead and clinked their glasses together as he spoke. "To family and good business" He said with a wide grin.
The dinner passed uneventfully; mostly filled with idle, friendly chat of no consequence. Only a few veiled threats were exchanged, along with a few hints of business ventures. High ranking mafia men were surprisingly civil when gathered together. After a while, the remaining plates were cleared and dessert was served; only the finest of things for the Don's show of power.
"Now then, shall we get ta business finally, gentlemen?" Shirosaki asked as he took a bite of the treat his servants had placed in front of him. At the nods of multiple guests, the young Don continued; going into detail about his proposition to have the various families join into one, larger and stronger family under his command. Of course, the don of each smaller family would still be the leader of their branch and wouldn't loose their standing in the city's underworld. They would simply be at Shirosaki's disposal and he at theirs, should he choose to be. The families would be sharing information and business, eventually branching out and taking over families of other cities. He wanted to create a crime network to do his bidding that would extend far and wide.
The man sitting beside his Hunter carefully cleared his throat, eyeing the finger still swimming in his tainted glass of red wine. "How could this possibly benefit us?" He asked, giving a side long glance to a certain man further down the table.
These fools weren't even bothering to be subtle, Shiro noted. He wondered if they were testing him, feeling him out and seeing how he would react or if they simply thought him stupid. "We would be sharin' resources an territory. It would cut down on the petty fights wit' in our fair city."
"Not that I've decided yet... but if we refuse your invitation...?" Ginjo let his question hang in the air, his nerves fried as the blue haired killer sitting next to him eyed him like a hungry cat about to pounce. He leaned away from the Hunter slightly as he watched Shiro. None of the men in the room were new to death or murder by any means. He had killed his fair share of people but something in the man's crystalline blue gaze chilled him to his very core.
"Guess I'd be forced ta handle ya the old fashioned way." The pale man answered, hardly looking up from his dessert. The smirk stretching his snowy lips did little to dispel the very serious undercurrent of his words. "Are ya suggestin' that you'll be goin' against me?" He asked in all seriousness, finally lifting his haunting gaze to lock eyes with the man.
"Not at all!" The man quickly replied, holding his hands out in a calming manner.
Shirosaki smirked and went back to his dessert. He knew none would announce their allegiance or denial to cooperate while at the dinner party. They would wait and give their answer later on, probably from the safety of their own homes where no one could shoot them for their decision. Unfortunately for them, his methods didn't usually involve guns.
A plate crashed to the floor, the fine china shattering as red wine seeped into the table cloth and dripped onto the tile. The commotion shook Shiro from his musings and he looked up to see his Hunter baring his perfect, white teeth at Ginjo, a powerful hand was wrapped around the man's wrist and wrenching it painfully back. The shinning, silver blade of the Hunter's favored butterfly knife rested at the man's throat. A gun lay on the table before them and Shiro could easily guess as to what the man had been attempting.
A devilish smile stretched his pale lips as he watched the man with calm eyes. He could see fear swirl in their depths, obviously taken by surprise at the bluenette's speed and strength. "Ichigo, if ya please." He said, not bothering to look at the Handler.
"Of course, sir." Ichigo said softly, his voice polite and friendly as though nothing of import was happening. He turned chocolaty brown orbs on his Hunter. "Grimmjow, you can let go now." He said, reaching a hand behind his back, under his jacket. He grabbed the pistol from the waist band of his pants and pulled it around, aiming and firing the weapon as his partner released the man.
The gun shot echoed off the walls and Ginjo's body slumped in it's chair, a small trickle of blood dripping down his forehead. Grimmjow roughly shoved it off and to the floor as the men gathered around the table jumped to their feet.
Calm, calculating brown eyes narrowed as Aizen swung his own weapon to train on the young Don from the far side of the table. He fired, eyes locked with inverted, liquid golden ones. He glimpsed a flash of blue before he turned on his heel and took off for the door. Things had gone wrong, horribly wrong. He had not given Ginjo the go ahead to make his move and he had not intended to interfere. The angered growl of the blue haired beast sent a chill down his spine as he reached the door.
Grimmjow growled as pain blossomed in his shoulder. He landed in a tangle of limbs and broken, splintered wood from the chair, his boss trapped beneath his larger body. Pushing himself to his feet, he bared his teeth and ignored the bullet wound that sent fire through his arm. He looked down just long enough to make sure Shiro was alright, then, seeing Ichigo slide to a halt at the Don's side, he spun and took off after the man who had shot him. The man who had tried to kill his boss. The man that would die.
He shoved a servant out of his way, shouldering the heavy wooden doors open to bang loudly on the walls behind them, echoing in the corridors. With long, graceful strides, the Hunter tore down the hallway, following the looks of shocked staff and shouting.
"Sir, are you ok?" Ichigo asked, slight panic slipping into his tone as he helped pull his boss to his feet.
"Fine, Ichi. But I think Grimm needs ta go on a diet." The Don answered, brushing a few wooden splinters and dust off his white slacks. Damn, was the bluenette solid. "Did he get hit?" He asked as he straightened to his full hight. Byakuya and his men had quickly taken control of the situation, surrounding the other guests and guarding over the powerful Don.
"Not sure, he's pissed off and probably not too sure himself." Ichigo huffed, knowing his partner's stubbornness and incredible pain tolerance. It had gotten them into trouble before.
Another gun shot echoed down the hall toward them, followed by a deep, manic laughter. The voice could have only belonged to the Hunter and Shirosaki and his Handler took off in the direction of the sound.
The laughter died off quickly, replaced by a terrified scream and pleas for mercy. They raced down the hall, flanked by the lower ranking don and a few of Shiro's servants. A deep, animalistic growling reached their ears as they rounded a corner and Ichigo worried for his partner and lover.
Byakuya and the servants, unused to Grimmjow's brutal style, gasped at the sight that awaited them.
Blood splattered the bluenette and the walls in a fine, red mist. The dark liquid pooled below the limp form of a man, presumably one of Aizen's men. Another man struggled weakly against the over powering Hunter. A hand gun lay on the floor, which was kicked to slam into the wall and slide toward the spectators. A slick tongue peeked out to run over a full bottom lip, clearing blood away. Grimmjow's big fist cracked into the man's face again with a dull, wet crunch.
He fisted a hand into short, blood streaked locks and the muscle's in Grimmjow's arms bulged as he effortlessly lifted the man to be at eye level with him. Cold, swirling blue fire met clouded dark eyes and held the man's gaze. The Hunter watched as the fog slowly rolled away and understanding dawned on the hapless, dazed man.
The soft whirring of Grimmjow's favored knife had the man begging again as skilled fingers twirled the parts of the dagger to open and closed playfully.
Warm liquid bubbled from torn, swollen lips as the man attempted to form words around his broken jaw.
Pathetic. Grimmjow flicked his wrist and snapped the blade open. Full lips pull back and white teeth sparkled in a malevolent grin. Never braking eye contact, the vicious hit man plunged his knife into his prey's gut, slicing him open from the waist line all the way up to his throat. The blade dug into the bone of ribs, adding a sickening grinding sound to the chorus of the man's screams.
"Grimmjow."
The smooth voice of his Handler. It seemed play time was over. The blood lust and madness cleared minutely in darkened, cyan orbs and Grimmjow yanked his knife free of his prey's abdominal cavity. He flipped the blade in his hand, grasping it in another fashion before swiftly plunging it through the man's eye socket and into his brain, ceasing the screams instantly as the man's life came to a stuttering, sudden halt. He let go of the body as the dull ache in his shoulder began to register again and turned to face his boss and partner. The blade was wiped clean on the dead man's suit jacket before he pressed his hand over the bullet wound to help stem the flow of blood that stained is torn shirt.
He watched the expressive brown eyes of his Handler follow the thick liquid that seeped between his fingers and an excited shiver raced down his spine. Taking a step toward Ichigo and the Don sent waves of lancing pain through his leg and pelvis, quickly stifling and putting a stop to the stirring of his half hard length. He looked down to see blood blossoming through the material of his dark jeans. So that second bullet had hit him after all, he hadn't felt a thing in the haze of blood lust that had consumed him. He growled slightly as he tried to take another step and felt the lead grind against the bone of his hip joint.
A strong, thin arm wrapped around his waist and the bluenette looked up to see Ichigo by his side and the Don bringing a phone to his ear.
"Szayel. I need ya an a clean up crew at the mansion asap." Shirosaki's lilting yet commanding voice drifted to the Hunter as he locked eyes with his Don. The pale man flipped his phone closed and dropped it back in the breast pocket of his white jacket. "Doc's on his way."
"I didn't get him." He growled out around the sharp pain, refusing to break eye contact with his boss. Aizen had gotten away and he was pissed about it. He slammed his closed fist into the wall in his anger and nearly knocked himself and the Handler supporting him to the black and white, blood smeared tile floor.
"No worries." Shiro said in a calm voice. "Ye'll get yer chance."
There may or may not be a second part to this, though I left it wide open and really want to make Grimmjow kick some more ass, so chances are good there will be a second chapter to tie everything up if you guys think it's worth continuing~
So let me know!