It was hot. That was all that could be said about this day in Karakura Town, it was hot. Not the 'Oh, it's warm out' But the 'God damn, I'm burning up in here' kind of heat. That is exactly what was exclaimed by a teal-haired guy who was walking around town. Sweat stained his pure white jacket, weighing down the empty sleeve where a left arm had once been. It dripped down his tanned body, sliding along his toned, muscular abdomen. His dull blue eyes traced a figure in the sidewalk, a figure of his servant. "Oh, Ichigo, I wish you were here, you look so very fuckable without that arm," he said to nobody in particular, mostly to himself.
It'd been a week since Ichigo had lost his arm, a very fun week indeed. This man, Grimmjow as he was often called, was responsible for that incident, of course. It had been meant as a way to get even, but it morphed into something more than that very quickly. It was now the thing that bound them together, that which made them such an easy match. They had both learned to adjust to life with one arm, and had leaned on each other for support, Ichigo leaning on Grimmjow more then the other way around. This didn't mean that Grimmjow went easy on him though, instead Ichigo was pushed to the breaking point by his master, his puppeteer.
Time and time, again it had happened, Ichigo would shut down mentally and spend a day in his room alone, and Grimmjow had respected his need for space on those occasions. In fact, that very reason was why he was out in the sweltering heat, rather than inside the house, fucking his servant's brains out. 'Oh, he owes me a good fucking' thought the man, smirking at the thought. He'd be sure to let his former enemy know just how much he hated the heat. It'd only take about another hour or so before the Substitute Shinigami would be ready for some more sex, but that would seem like forever.
The problem was that the former Sexta Espada wasn't used to having to wait for sex, he usually took it whenever and wherever he wanted it. So patience was a trained art, and he wasn't ready to be trained. So he waited and walked around town four or five times before giving up, and waiting on Ichigo's windowsill. One knock, two knocks, and that was all it took. As soon as he knocked on the windowpane that second time, the window flew open, revealing a very angry Ichigo. Grimmjow tried to listen to Ichigo's rants, he really did, but he could only think of how much he wanted to get in, to fuck Ichigo senseless.
So, before Ichigo could even finish shouting at Grimmjow, he found himself pressed up against the floor with a very horny Espada straddling his waist. "Sorry, could we finish that later?" Grimmjow asked, not caring what his marionette had to say on the matter. It didn't take long for the clothes to start flying, but it took coordination to do it. They started by working on Ichigo's shirt, with Grimmjow pulling it over Ichigo's head with his teeth, taking his time as he also nibbled on Ichigo's nipples on the way up.
This, as he had learned, always caused Ichigo to moan out quietly. He smirked on the way up, still taking the shirt off. Once the offending clothing was gone, he used his one arm to slowly take his jacket off, savoring the cool air against his heated, sweaty skin. He 'accidentally' brushed up against the protruding lump on Ichigo's waist, grinning as he did. "Well, did ya miss me, Ichigo?" He asked, rubbing against it with his ass, shivering at the feeling. He wasted no time in taking off Ichigo's pants, using his mouth to unzip them, and his hand to take them off.
He took Ichigo's underwear off at the same time, smirking devilishly at the look in Ichigo's eyes, one of pure lust and want. Once those were out of the way, he got to work taking off his own leggings, doing it much faster though, all but tearing them off of his legs. His member sprang to life as it was released, and he inhaled sharply when the crisp, cool air assaulted his rod. He wasted no time, and instantly shoved his member into Ichigo's tight, waiting hole. With Ichigo still on his back, Grimmjow asserted his dominance, twisting Ichigo's nipples with his one hand, left first, then right.
With this treatment, it didn't take long for Ichigo to release, coating his chest in the sticky substance. Trying to ride out the orgasm, he shoved against Grimmjow with each thrust from his blue-eyed master. Grimmjow didn't last much longer either, riding Ichigo like his life depended on it. To a degree, it did, though. He was certain that if he didn't come soon, he would go insane. So with the last of his strength, he thrust into Ichigo one last time, readjusting Ichigo so that the Shinigami was on his hands and knees, being fucked from behind.
Before he fell asleep though, Grimmjow bit down on Ichigo's right hip, drawing the slightest amount of blood. He licked it from his own lips, savoring the taste like he did that night one week ago, when he took Ichigo's arm away. "Now, did we have fun, my puppet?" He asked Ichigo, chuckling to himself quietly. "Of course I did, master," Ichigo replied, kissing his seme softly. Grimmjow took it further though, sliding his tongue through Ichigo's lips, and exploring Ichigo's soft, tender mouth. Ichigo moaned around the tongue, trying his hardest to keep it going. But, the need for oxygen won out and Ichigo broke the kiss, taking deep breaths.
He massaged Grimmjow's abs though, licking at the muscles, drawing an abstract image on the tense skin. "Could you make me come again, master?" He asked softly, almost afraid of Grimmjow's response. "No, you may not, Ichigo. In fact, I have something better for you to do," Grimmjow responded, picking his Zanpakutou off the ground, drawing it slowly. He positioned it against Ichigo's hole, and traced along the edge of it. He applied a bit of pressure, and drew blood from the sensitive skin there, making Ichigo moan again and again.
"Master, please, do it again," Ichigo pleaded to his king, bucking back against the blade positioned at his ass. "Since you asked so nicely, I will grant you that wish," Grimmjow responded, drawing more blood from Ichigo's most private area, painting it crimson with Ichigo's own blood, his life force. "You know, I still need that for tomorrow, probably," said Grimmjow, licking it clean slowly, and then sheathing it. Ichigo moaned softly once more, standing up and pulling his pants back up with one hand, smiling at his master.
"Thank you, master. How can I make that up to you?" Ichigo asked Grimmjow, the after-orgasm glow still on his face. But Grimmjow didn't respond, he just pulled up his pants and jumped out the window the same way he went in, knocking once, then twice, more habit than necessary. He walked down the streets once more, like he had before, with a grin on his face this time. But, the cold wouldn't be as bad, with the memory of that great fucking still fresh in his mind. But, he wouldn't be satisfied for long, oh hell no. He wanted to fuck his orange haired puppet again and again, never stopping. Sadly, even an Espada of his nature still needed to rest between sex stops.
So he settled for finding a park in Karakura, and sitting down in the grass there under the tree, with his legs tucked in against himself. He drew out his blade and slashed at the ground, never stopping, not until he had drawn a picture of Ichigo to share how much he cared. He may have never shown it, but he would walk to the end of the earth with his servant. He'd never tell Ichigo this, of course, because that would ruin the fun of it. So he settled for this, drawing his angel and his devil, all in the dirt. What he'd done wrong, and what he'd done right, all was in that dirt.
Nobody, nobody would, or could, ever take that away from him. After all, he was Grimmjow, one of the most powerful of all the Arrancar. One of Aizen's elite, part of the most powerful movement against Soul Society ever. It didn't really matter if Aizen called for him, he would always be right here, with his Ichigo, and Ichigo's friends. Some things just fall into place, even for a product of the devil.