Title: Shifting

Author: Merci

Pairing: Grimmjaw/Ichigo

Rating: PG13

Status: Complete

Source: Bleach

Summary: Ichigo lies awake in Las Noches, the scratches on his back still deep and bleeding, and he feels his relationship with Grimmjaw shifting beyond that of enemies with benefits into unfamiliar territory.

Feedback: Comments are welcome; constructive or positive. Flames are nice too because they make for something to laugh at and keep my feet toasty.

Warnings: Implied yaoi. Angst?

Disclaimer: I do not own Grimmjaw(ow?), Ichigo or Bleach. The story itself *does* belong to me. I am making no profit from this endeavour.

Notes: I wrote this after seeing Ebaka's art on y!gallery (http://yaoi[dot]y-gallery[dot]net/view/373340/) She asked if anyone had an explanation, and I immediately got a feel for the piece. I started to write, and it turned into a drabble. Well, I don't know if this is a drabble. It's *something* XD


Shifting

It didn't mean anything to him, but he wouldn't give it up. At first they would cross swords whenever they ran into each other, but somehow, after countless battles, the swords were tossed aside in favour of pressing one another to the wall and fucking like wild animals. Things had shifted from that of enemies to one of enemies with benefits. This was just a new development in their relationship, nothing that constituted treason. It so happened to fulfill each man's carnal desires for the other and nothing else. Nothing they would fight to keep.

It was sex.

Sex that happened infrequently and violently. It was needy and wild and over with a fist in the guts or head butt to the face to remind themselves that neither man or arrancar liked each other as anything more than a thing to punch or screw senseless.

It became a routine of fighting and fucking. It was something both of them wanted more than they'd admit, and the frequency increased as Grimmjaw crossed into the real world to cut Ichigo up before fucking him senseless. It was fine, Ichigo performed his duties as a substitute shinigami and a high school student, a little slip to the dark side to do what he wanted wasn't anything to worry about. Nothing worth mentioning to his friends or make anyone consider himself a liability to their cause. Still, Ichigo knew he'd crossed a line somewhere when he stepped into Hueco Mundo to seek the arrancar out in his own territory. The relationship shifted again as he made more of an effort to maintain this… thing that neither would admit to needing, but both wanted with venomous desire.

The blue-haired espada said nothing when they met. Neither did Ichigo. It was just as it had been before with fighting and fucking and leaving for their own lives afterwards without any concern for the other.

The substitute shinigami crossed to the other side with disturbing regularity, seeking out the arrancar when he didn't show up in the human world. Then he began to stay. The situation shifted again.

Ichigo would lie awake afterwards; hot and sweaty in Grimmjaw's bed while the arrancar slept like the dead beside him. They wouldn't leave each other's bed as quickly once their orgasms had subsided. Their clothes would remain strewn about the room and their breathing would slow to the breath of sleep as they remained together.

The cuts on Ichigo's back stung with his own sweat, sticking to the covers where the Espada's nails had dug deep and drawn blood. When he had ventured beyond his domain, Ichigo would imagine his own bed, cold and empty as he warmed his lover's bed.

No, enemy.

They were enemies and this was just sex. Just fighting and sex and blood and sweat. It wasn't his fault, it had just happened. It wasn't anything more than sex, it wasn't important or special to him… but it wasn't anything his friends could convince him to give up, either. There were so many parts of him that were drawn to the Espada, so many things within the arrancar matched and returned the attraction, drawing each to the other like a magnet.

Sleep never even touched Ichigo's mind anymore, not when he was in that little room in Las Noches. His cuts would heal quickly when he went home, but when they were still raw and sore in the moonlight of Grimmjaw's room, Ichigo would bow his head and groan in frustration. It was just sex, nothing more than that, and yet…

It felt like things were shifting again…