The headache was a stinging pain spreading from his temples to the back of his skull, cracking it open. He tried to blink away the pain, or ignore it at least, but failed, so he finally opened his eyes with a heavy groan. First, he didn't recognise a single thing, his vision was blurred and due to the barely existent light he first only managed to make out different shades of grey. But then a barely lit room with wooden walls appeared. Rustic, but solid. One door, closed to his dislike, and two small windows. And although the windows were open, the window shutters were closed, much like the door. Not that a wooden door, shutters or even a wooden wall would be much of a hindrance to him if he needed to get away fast. But closed-up spaces just made him, well, not at ease. He couldn't pinpoint the feeling, he just didn't like closed doors and windows. He shrugged the feeling away and realized that he laid on a single bed, draped in a blanket. The linen smoothly covered his legs, hips and the lower part of his belly. The fabric nicely cooled down his heated skin and heavy raindrops splashing down on the roof above him almost lulled him back to sleep, but then it hit him. «What the fuck!?» yelling he sat up and immediately regretted his harsh reaction. The world started to spin in a nauseating manner.
«If I were you I wouldn't thrash around. You hit your head quite hard, you might suffer from a concussion. Although I doubt there's much brain inside that thick, stubborn skull of yours we need to worry about,» a taunting voice from the other side of the room addressed him.
«Why the fuck I'm naked, Kurosaki?» the man on the bed growled, recognising the voice. He tried to sit up properly, still, the spinning didn't stop. One leg on the ground, the other still entangled in the sheet, he leaned forward and held his head with one hand while with the other draped the cloth tighter.
«Oh, good. You still know my name. Do you know what day we have, Jaegerjaquez?» Ichigo Kurosaki asked from the other side of the room. He sat in front of a fireplace, the dying fire in his back was the only light source in the small room.
«13th of lick my ass,» Grimmjow spat at the shadow with the distinctive spiky hair. Gaining back the control over his body, he recognised the substitute Shinigami was too only covered with a thin whitish sheet. Near the fireplace were two shabby chairs, one was covered in black fabric, the other with his own white clothes. In the distance, a thunder rumbled through the night and Grimmjow twitched slightly. «What happened?» he grumbled into his hand, desperately trying not to show his nervousness. Therefore, and because Ichigo's face was more or less hidden in the shadows, he couldn't see the small smile twitching around the corner of the substitute's lip.
«You were attacked by the stray hollow,» Ichigo answered sighing. «And I had to drag your unconscious ass around. The moment you woke up a thunderstorm crossed our way. You started to act weird and lulled something like you hate it to get hit by cum, or so. That's when I decided to take a break at this cabin,» Ichigo explained further. And with a snarl, he added, «You can thank me later I dragged you with me!»
Grimmjow looked up, an expression of utter disbelief on his face. «I said what? Hating to get hit by *what*?»
Now it was Ichigo's turn to twitch slightly. «Uhm, I thought I heard you say something about foutre and déteste...».
A burst of laughter stopped the teen and he looked up, a deep frown in place. After some moments of heartfelt laughter, the blue-haired menace managed to put on an earnest expression. «I most certainly said foudre, with a silent d, which is French and means lightning,» interrupted by another giggle he continued his lecturing again, «which makes way more sense, don't you think? Come to think of it, since when d'you got such a perverted imagination?»
«What the fuck? Why the heck d'you speak French, to begin with? Hit your head too hard or what?» Ichigo blurted out slightly embarrassed. Grimmjow just raised an eyebrow smug grin in place. He even caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar blush creeping over the substitute's cheeks. Although it was almost invincible and replaced instantly by Ichigo's usual deep scowl, the other's reaction amused Grimmjow and let his grin grow wider. That changed drastically when a second rumbling thunder rolled through the night sky outside the cabin.
Ichigo, aware of the sudden tense posture and the somehow frozen grimace of the other, cautiously stood up and turned right to fetch a cup from a shelf like construction on the wall. He had found a small kettle and some teabags after he had managed to undress an unconscious Ex-Espada and had freed himself from his own heavy soaked uniform. Getting a fire started had been harder than he had thought, but in the end, he had managed somehow to make some tea. «Do you like some tea? The water's still hot,» he asked the one sitting on the bed, without turning around.
«What it is with you Shinigami and tea? It's as if you think the answer to every question can be found at the bottom of a teacup,» the blue-haired man growled in his back. Ichigo could hear the rustling of fabric and then some footsteps. When he turned left he saw Grimmjow standing in front of the fireplace stretching his back and arms. The linen bedsheet was wrapped around his hips like a sarong and was riding dangerously low, but he just seemed to own that kind of clothing.
«Well, there's nothing else around. And it helps to calm down, at least that's what I heard,» Ichigo answered while pouring some water in the cup and placing a teabag in it. He reached out the cup to the former Espada and, averting eye-contact, he mumbled: «You seem to be quite startled by the thunderstorm...»
«Who said I'm afraid of the weather!» the larger male interrupted him hissing. And as if the weather needed to enhance Grimmjow's outburst a thunder growled outside, louder and closer than the last two. The former Espada flinched, visibly. Ichigo just tilted his head slightly and hummed, still holding out the cup of tea to the other. Groaning the taller man snapped the cup from Ichigo's hand and took a sip. «That doesn't help, believe me,» he grumbled into the small cup.
«Well, at least we've got a safe roof over our heads, don't you think?» Ichigo said calmly. He tried hard not to laugh, but Grimmjow's reaction to the storm amused him. It had started a few hours ago when Ichigo had decided to carry the unconscious former Espada back to Karakura. As unceremoniously as he could think of, tossed over his shoulder like a sack full of potatoes.
«Damn! You're supposed to be a spiritual being! Dead, a ghost, for fuck's sake. Why the hell are you so freaking heavy?» Ichigo yelled annoyed while tossing an injured Grimmjow over his shoulder. The last three days had been a literal pain in the ass, being on a ‚hunting trip' with the Arrancar was in no way as funny and entertaining as he had hoped for. These three days had been a constant battle, at least only with words and seldom really on the edge to burst out into a physical confrontation. But it had been tiring to no end - mentally. And absolutely not, what Ichigo had in mind when he had left Urahara's Shoten together with a grumpy Grimmjow.
*They had argued about something in the morning, Ichigo really couldn't remember anymore what it had been, and since then they were following the trails of the stray hollow wordlessly, Grimmjow leading a couple of yards in front of him. Near enough to be seen, but far away to not hear him, or his 'disturbing breathing', as he had pointed out some hours ago. That might have led to his current situation. The blue-haired idiot hadn't heard him yelling that the hollow they were looking for was hiding behind the trees, ready to strike down an unaware blue haired idiot. And even if, the cat-like Arrancar most probably wouldn't have listened to him.
In movies such situations were always slowed down, excessively. But in reality, everything went down too fast. The only thing Ichigo could remember was the sickening cracking of bones when Grimmjow's limp body had been smashed into the ground. Of course, Ichigo had attacked the stray hollow immediately after that. A monstrosity, probably as strong as a Gillian. Problem was, that one wasn't as mindless as a Gillian. His attacks had been vicious and he countered almost every attempt from Ichigo without even a blink. And the whole time Grimmjow had laid on the ground in his own blood, unmoving.
Others probably would have been worried, but Ichigo had recognised the small rising from Grimmjow's chest, indicating that he was still breathing. That probably had pissed him off more than he would admit. So when he finally purified the hollow, his attempts to wake up the unconscious man hadn't been gentle or careful. But even a really strong kick into Grimmjow's side didn't wake him up. In the end, Ichigo had given up and decided to carry the blue-haired man back to Karakura. There was no choice anyway, a storm was building up. The dark clouds of a nearing thunderstorm were slowly but steadily emerging from behind the horizon and Ichigo just didn't want to get caught by the rain. Three days without a shower or a bed were enough.
Two hours later he had been exhausted, well kind of. Not dead-to-the-bones-exhausted, but tired and annoyed. He tossed the limp body to the ground, thinking that a little rest would help. He pocked the blue-haired's shoulder, but the only thing he gained in response was a low growl. *
«Stop that growling and wake up! I'm tired to drag around your unconscious ass,» Ichigo fumed annoyed. Grimmjow didn't answer, he just turned to the other side and stayed that way. At least the bleeding from his severe head wound had stopped. Sighing Ichigo laid back and made himself comfortable. «Half an hour rest, that's not going to kill you... I guess,» he mumbled and closed his eyes. Only to tear them open seconds later when a thunder boomed through the nightly sky. Grimmjow's limp body beside him stirred and with an emotion aching to hope Ichigo turned to face the former Espada - only to be greeted by a still passed out Grimmjow. Although he had scrunched his nose and a deep frown divided his forehead.
«Oi, Jaegerjaquez! Wake the fuck up!» Ichigo yelled annoyed. Grimmjow only stirred again, turned around and mumbled something in language Ichigo didn't understand. «You're kidding me? French?» Ichigo groaned after some minutes. That mumbling sounded suspiciously like French, although he didn't speak it he recognised the sound of the language. Yuzu was learning it because she considered the French kitchen to be one of best in the world. Ichigo sat up and reached over to shake Grimmjow's shoulder. First, he thought the other male was still knocked out, but then he got some reaction from him. When the blue-haired idiot finally opened his eyes Ichigo sighed relieved. «Hey there, finally awake?» he asked.
«Eh, bien sûr!» Grimmjow growled while sitting up. He looked around and then his gaze fell upon Ichigo, who stared daggers at him.
«Speak a language I understand, for fuck's sake! I don't speak French, if it even is French!» Ichigo grumbled irritated.
«Eh, c'est vrais? Mais je te comprend. Tu sais, j'ai entendu ce que Kisuke t'a dit. Et il n'y voit que du feu, vraiment,» Grimmjow murmured and tried to stand up. Awkwardly he tried to make some steps, only to stumble over his own feet. Without even thinking Ichigo just caught the stumbling idiot and prevented him from falling down.
«What on earth…?» Ichigo wailed. To make his misery even deeper, a big heavy raindrop splashed down on his forehead. Seconds later a lightning illuminated the dark sky accompanied by a thunder and the black clouds above them gushed down their content. Grimmjow shuddered in his arms and his claws dug way to deep into Ichigo's flesh – as if he needed to hold on to something or someone. «Oi, watch it!» Ichigo yelled in pain. Damn that Arrancar and his claws. Another lightning and thunder interrupted his scolding, and again Grimmjow twitched.
«Je la déteste... La foudre...,» Grimmjow mumbled into Ichigo's shoulder nuzzling his nose into the crook of the substitute Shinigami's neck. His already wet hair tingled Ichigo's cheek and the teen could almost feel the Arrancar's heartbeat. Somehow he was too stunned to move. Grimmjow's action surprised him, and if it weren't for the rain that was falling down on them, or the fact that the former Espada obviously was completely out of his mind, he would have liked it. Fuck, hadn't that been the exact reason why Ichigo had asked Urahara for some, how had he put it, ‚freedom to sort out things' with the blue-haired idiot?
Pushing Grimmjow back and holding him an arm's length away he locked eyes with him. «I've seen an old cabin along the way, it's only a couple of minutes away. Let's wait there until the rain gets lighter.» Grimmjow just eyed him curiously, as if he saw him for the first time. A little smile tugged at his lips when he closed the distance again and then his hands reached up to cup Ichigo's face. Frozen to his core by Grimmjow's unexpected move, Ichigo just stared at the blue haired man. An instant later he felt the former Espada's lips on his own, softer than he expected them to be. A skilful tongue gently parted his lips and Ichigo's body reacted on its own will. Instinctively he drew closer to Grimmjow, engaged in the kiss. But the moment the other's action became more dominant, Ichigo's brain seemed to kick in again. After all, this was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Sexta Espada, former-nemesis-now-turned-ally – and obviously, he was acting like someone who was either completely drunk or insane.
That simple kiss had turned him on, sure, but Ichigo was certain, that it might be the most stupid thing in the world to delve further into it. Yes, the reason why they had hunted down a stray hollow – only the two of them – might had something to do with a dream, one that was hunting Ichigo almost every night for the past six months. And kissing the Espada was only the most innocent dream he had about Grimmjow. Some time ago he had come to terms that he had a thing or two for the reckless blue-haired man. That had been the moment, he had started to fantasise about taking the action beyond their usual sword-crossing. But right now it felt wrong; as if he would take an advantage which would never be granted to him would Grimmjow be on his right mind. Ichigo harshly pulled away and, probably out of utter shock and self-disgust, because a small voice called out to him to seize the moment, placed a neat and firm upper hook on the Espada's chin.
«By the way, it's the 14th, late in the evening,» Ichigo came back from his musing. Remembering the fight he had to put on with Grimmjow to lead him to the shack didn't help, nor did remembering the kiss. It had taken a lot of self-control to deal with the Arrancar who seemed to be stuck in a limbo between the sharp awareness of a predator and the blank perception of a stone. And it didn't help that Grimmjow obviously had misunderstood his touches and guiding as approaches of a more intimate kind. Not that Ichigo hadn't wished for that, certainly his body craved for it, and that small voice in his mind was calling out to him to take what was offered. But that thought had a slight taste of assault, so he had shut down every little arousing as good as possible.
Ichigo sighed deeply and cautiously walked closer to the man in front of the fireplace. He kneeled down, took a log from a basket beside the fireplace and placed it into the glowing ember. Almost immediately the heat started to char the piece of wood and after some time the first small flames licked their way around the log. Still kneeling he watched the small flames getting bigger, how the colour changed from a dark to a lighter orange. A fascinating thing, their dance, the heat – it almost had a soporific effect on him. At least, it helped to concentrate on something else than blue hair, endless legs and slightly tanned skin he wished to sink his teeth into. He cleared his throat and without looking away from the hypnotic flames he asked: «So, you speak French?».
Grimmjow glanced down at the kneeling young man and without any hesitation, he answered: «Not intentionally, but yes, I speak French. And German. My name sort of gives away that information, don't you think?». But then he suddenly tensed. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he give away personal information, above all to Ichigo Kurosaki? Not that his ability to speak and understand more than just one language would be a weakness Kurosaki could use against him on a battleground, but it was an information too personal. Not even Aizen had been aware of that fact that one of his Espada's was able to speak more than just one language. Not that Aizen ever thought of his Espadas to be more than just weapons, tools.
Grimmjow cleared his throat and, almost anxiously, eyed the substitute Shinigami through narrowed eyes. He had turned his face up and looked at him with curious eyes, a little smile tugging at his lips. That surprised him. He had suspected a scornful grin, even a vicious glow in those caramel-brown eyes. But it seemed as if he somehow appreciated that little sharing of personal information. «Eto, that never came to my mind,» Ichigo muttered acknowledging while getting up, «sort of cool, I think...».
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and snorted disbelieving into the cup of tea he still held in his hands. «There's a lot you Shinigamis don't know. Probably don't want to know. To think we are mindless creatures only guided by a carnivorous instinct, that way it's way more easier to kill us, isn't it?» Grimmjow scoffed and placed the cup on the mantelpiece. Slowly he turned around to face the substitute Shinigami, who leaned against the chimney, arms crossed in front of his bare chest. Shadows danced across the slim but well-defined waist and sapphire blue eyes scanned their way up from a godly six-pack to equally well-built pectorals, prominent collarbones and a delicately thin and long neck, slightly crooked to one side. The orange mess the substitute called hair crowned a handsome face. The deep frown between closed eyes only enhanced the handsomeness.
Grimmjow slightly shook his head to get his distracted mind back on track. But truth was, ever since their first fight, a constant longing pursued him. First, he had thought it only to be his amazement over a challenge by someone who was a worthy opponent. And he strictly had reduced any emotional or physical reaction during their second and third fight to the adrenalin pumping through his veins. But when he had picked up traces of Inoue's spiritual pressure in Hueco Mundo, and that on a time where she should have been already back in the safety of the world of the living, his heartbeat had jumped and he had rushed towards her, hoping the orange-haired idiot wouldn't be far away. That had been the moment he realised he was in deep shit. And it somehow had lead to a strange contract with the racoon-faced Ex-Shinigami, one that granted him more freedoms than he could wish for.
The subject of his shameless observations sighed and rolled his shoulders. Just in time, before these brown eyes pierced through him, Grimmjow was back to his usual self – a mocking half grin on his lips and a glinting challenge in his eyes. «I never thought of Nell, or my own Hollow, in that way,» Ichigo said in a low voice. «And even though you seem to have an innate impulse to kill me, which is, by the way, a bit unhealthy, there is more than just the lust for destruction hidden inside you.» Grimmjow's eyes got slightly wider while Ichigo explained himself. His questioning look must have come across like an invitation for further babble from the orange-haired idiot. «Your fighting is defined by a certain degree of moral and honour. Although your code of conduct is shown in a weird way that involves kidnapping and threatening Orihime and trying to finish me off.» Grimmjow snorted in contempt. Which let a vicious smile spread on Ichigo's face, he was definitely in the mood to tease the blue haired man, to pay him back. Stemming one hand on his hip he bowed his head a bit. «You are way too easy to offend, you obviously fear thunderstorms, and for an Arrancar, your kissing's not that bad.»
«For fuck's sake! I don't fear thunderstorms. My hearing is better than yours and I can see even if its pitch black! That fucking weather is literally hurting me on a physical level!» Grimmjow barked enraged, on the brink to attack the grinning substitute Shinigami. He wanted to wipe out that smug grin with his fists, to make Ichigo bleed and let him feel at least some of the pain he had to endure. Getting into a threatening stance and raising his right fist, he suddenly stopped. A bewildered look on his face, he made a step back and all the aggression disappeared in a blink of an eye. «Wait… what?»
«You are way too easy to rile up,» Ichigo answered with a mocking grin while he pushed himself from the chimney and walked cautiously past the stunned Ex-Espada. «You don't mind, do you? But I'm tired as hell and I need some sleep. Oh, and if you find a book titled Necronomicon, please don't read out loud the incantations.» Four steps later he stood before the bed and let himself fell with a content sigh onto the bare mattress.
«The hell?! What kiss?» Grimmjow snarled viciously. Still standing in front of the fireplace he started to stalk towards Ichigo, who lazily flipped open one eye and glared at the confused man.
«Huh? I must say I feel kind of rejected. After all, it was you who kissed me…,» Ichigo drawled, still in the mood to tease the older male. That changed instantly when Grimmjow's raging spiritual pressure crashed down on him. By now he was used to the bone-crushing and violent force the Espada sometimes exerted, so that wasn't what stirred him. It felt still dangerous and destructive, but the same time searingly hot, devouring and brimming with lust. Exactly the emotions Ichigo perceived from Pantera each and every time they were sparing, fighting with all their power to defeat the other. It was driving him mad, really. Propping himself on his elbows he faced the other man with a questioning look on his face.
«You really can't remember, do you?» the seconds ago mocking teen asked Grimmjow with concerns. He sat up and raised to his feet. Standing in front of an intimidating Grimmjow, he lifted his right hand, gently grabbed his chin and turned the other's head to the left side to have a better look on the wound inflicted on him by the stray hollow.
Startled, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's wrist. He slowly turned his face back and glared viciously at the younger man. «What kiss?», he hissed, instantly using a vice-like force on his grip to lower Ichigo's hand. He could hear the muscles and tendons squeak, even a little splintering of bones had been detectable before he let go of Ichigo's wrist.
A small wince escaped the substitute's lips when he thoroughly shook his hand. If it wasn't broken, his wrist must be at least heavily sprained. «Damn you! You were way more gentle some hours ago,» Ichigo mumbled, glaring down at his mangled wrist.
«No way I kissed a Shinigami!», Grimmjow growled, trying to sound as despised as possible. He couldn't, no, he didn't want to believe what Kurosaki was implying. Sure, his obsession with Ichigo was, even for his standards, fairly abnormal. It was far beyond instinct or simple lust, it had turned into something else. Something that he feared, because first, it weakened him, second, no way Ichigo would look at him the same way. That look was reserved for the creepy healer-woman, wasn't it? So he had covered his feelings with a mocking grin and cruel insults, and up until now, he thought he had quite a good control over it.
Another growl rumbled in Grimmjow's chest, which sent down shivers along Ichigo's spine. Suppressing that spark of enjoyment as good as possible, he poked his index repeatedly with every word coming from his lips into a heaving chest. «You have no reason to be pissed off! You started it, you goddamn stubborn fool!». With the last word, he placed his flat palm on the Arrancar's chest and stepped closer. «And you flat out ignore the fact that I'm only part Shinigami!»
Grimmjow backed off and almost tumbled over one of the chairs. Ichigo's eyes startled him. They seemed to glow, the caramel brown irises changed to a golden fire. «Ah, to hell with any precautions!», the younger one mumbled suddenly, closed the space between them and an instant later pressed his lips on Grimmjow's. The former Espada was thunderstruck, he simply couldn't move. After what seemed to be an eternity without any reaction from the blue-haired one, Ichigo pulled back, a disappointed expression on his face, yet deep red cheeks. He bowed his head, staring down at his feet, then cleared his throat. «You kissed me, I kissed you. And obviously, that's all to it. So, we're even.» Turning around to go back to bed, a deep sigh escaped his lips. «Just let us pretend that never happened.»
Before he even could make a single step, Grimmjow grabbed his shoulder and held him back. The younger man could feel hot, short breaths fanning along his shoulder blade and his neck and he slightly crooked his head to the other side, his cheek caressing the hand on his shoulder. Grimmjow stood that close behind him Ichigo almost could feel his chest touching his back with every short breath the older one took. With a deep sigh, and Ichigo wasn't sure if it sounded desperate or relieved, Grimmjow leaned in closer and softly placed his forehead right between the substitute's shoulder blades. His bangs tickled a sensitive spot, Ichigo wasn't even aware of he had. He exhaled excited and couldn't hold back a deep moan when the other's lips suddenly teased that exact spot. The surprisingly soft and tender lips, paired with a slight scratching coming from the Espada's mask, let Ichigo shiver with delight. Therefore, when Grimmjow's right arm circled around his waist and his calloused hand came to rest on the younger man's chest, Ichigo leaned back into the man standing behind him. With his fingers he trailed along the slender yet strong forearm, delighted when he felt the muscles flex under his touch. His blood began to boil when he swayed his hips just enough to feel Grimmjow's hard one at his back.
Grimmjow, on the other hand, didn't trust the momentum. That was too good to be true. He almost expected someone coming to the rescue of the orange haired male, who slowly rolled his hips and sent him almost over the edge. The woman maybe, or even racoon-face. His hand wandered from Ichigo's shoulder down to his waist. With a harsh grip, he steadied the movement while the finger and nails of his other hand clutched tightly into the flesh of Ichigo's chest. The sounds he made were mindblowing and stirred Grimmjow to no end. Growling he suppressed the itching need to sink his teeth into the delicate neck, instead, his tongue licked over that sweet spot on Ichigo's body that seemed to have magical powers over him. And indeed, a small whimper came from the substitute Shinigami. He brought his lips to Ichigo's ear, sucked in the earlobe and deeply inhaled the scent of Ichigo's hair. Another whimper, this time louder, stopped his actions. That heavenly sound set his skin on goosebumps and he was heartbeats away from forcing the younger male down and fuck him raw into oblivion.
Grimmjow's body suddenly went stiff and Ichigo wondered what he had done wrong. Could it be he had completely misinterpreted the feelings the Arrancar tried to hide? Did he misunderstand Pantera's intentions as Grimmjow's? After all, Pantera was much easier to read, and wasn't that sword a huge part of Grimmjow? The emotions that sword showed off each time they were sparing were even more ‚in your face' than the ones of its wielder. Yes, that steel held a huge lust for battle, an unhealthy desire to destroy – but there was also an infatuating yearning, a sexual craving, and that stirred Ichigo to no end. He had been more than once seconds away to throw away his own sword, to grab the collars of that stupid white jacket of Grimmjow, yank him closer, clash teeth with him and to ravish every little piece of exposed skin. But that idiot always ruined the moment, always. It was either a poisonous insult he spat out, a kick to his legs or punch right in his stomach. Suddenly the tight hold on Ichigo's waist and clutch on his chest loosened and Grimmjow's lips were suddenly nowhere he'd liked them to be. His arms were still embracing him, but in a loose way. Using the space he got, Ichigo turned around to face the former Espada. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, to look at Grimmjow just to discover a fierce loathe in those sapphire blue eyes. Instead, he was greeted with an expression resembling despair.
Grimmjow couldn't stand Ichigo's inquiring look. He turned his head away and let go of Ichigo while making a step back. Sex between Arrancar-level hollows was - usually - a mere instinct you'd satisfied. You met up, fuck and then both parts would go their way. At it's worst it resembled a ravaging rape which ended in a cruel, painful and gory slaughtering of the assaulted part. And right now, every cell in his body was screaming to take down the young man and to tear apart that sweet tight little ass. But his mind – and he dared not to call it heart – stopped him. Although Ichigo insisted on being part hollow, he was, at least in Grimmjow's eyes, still only human. And hadn't racoon-face warned the substitute exactly about that? How had he put it? «An Arrancar, ally or not, might not be aware of the concept of sharing intimacy.» Grimmjow just couldn't delve into his urge. Above all, he would prove his own words from before, about being more than plain instinct, a cold-blooded lie.
«Don't you dare to back off, now!», Ichigo grumbled, his voice somewhere between anger and pleading. With one hand he grabbed for the thin fabric wrapped around those sinful hips and pulled the other male back. With a flick of his wrist, he untied the loose knot that still held the linen in place. While grabbing for Grimmjow's throbbing member, trapped between their bodies, his other hand reached up and grasped for his chin. Without any resistance, Grimmjow's head turned back. His eyes looked like a total solar eclipse, but instead of the sun's corona, a thin, blue-glowing ring of fire adorned black pools. Grimmjow's breath hitched when Ichigo's thumb slowly circled the head of his cock. «Don't tell me you're not craving for this. 'Cause I know, you do.»
When Ichigo's lips suddenly were on his own again, Grimmjow couldn't pretend a lack of interest any longer, couldn't neglect his feelings anymore, couldn't hold back anymore. Ichigo was right, he wanted this more than he craved for another fight with the orange haired punk. His desperate hands reached up and grabbed for orange spikes, pulled Ichigo closer. His tongue parted hot lips and was instantly greeted by an eager muscle and it seemed as if Ichigo's body melted into his own. Ichigo's free hand buried itself into thick blue strands at the back of Grimmjow's head while the other slowly pumped his aching member. Grimmjow moaned shamelessly into the wet cavern of Ichigo's mouth, each and every touch of the substitute Shinigami sent electrifying sparks through his body. Therefore, when Ichigo pulled back from the kiss, he growled disappointed. He glanced questioning at the substitute and was greeted by a flustered face that was accomplished with a tiny smirk. Ichigo's eyes glowed like a shimmering, fluid pond of amber when he locked eyes with him. Then his hand let go of Grimmjow's hair and his fingernails sunk into the thick flesh of his shoulder and neck.
Holding the gaze of Grimmjow Ichigo started to plant small kisses on a heavy heaving chest. His tongue circled playfully a fully erected nipple and when his lips enclosed the sensitive spot a shiver rushed through Grimmjow's body. Ichigo carefully bit down on the hard flesh, held the small part of skin with his teeth while his tongue licked it. With a loud groan, Grimmjow let his head fall back and his grip on orange spikes got stronger. Fingernails scratching down his spine made his back arching and his clouded mind slowly recognised that Ichigo's lips trailed further down. The younger male already was on his knees when Grimmjow's head snapped back. A skilful tongue rimmed the edges of his hollow hole. The sensations jolted his entire body and his knees almost gave up, but a firm grip on his ass with nails deeply digging into the flesh steadied him.
Ichigo chuckled lowly when he felt Grimmjow's shudders. He wondered for a second if the smooth black skin was more sensitive as the Espada´s remaining skin. With the tip of his tongue, he slowly followed the rim, glancing up into a face that almost threw him off his feet. Thankfully he already was on his knees, otherwise, he surely would have fallen down. Grimmjow looked breathtakingly gorgeous. With his half-parted lips a faint pink blush on his cheeks, he just looked like the personified sin. Untamed blue strands were covering his usually narrowed eyes, which were as wide as possible. As if he wanted to take in the full sight presented to him. A genuine smile spread on Ichigo's face.
«Fuck, don't stop,» Grimmjow begged with a rough voice. Ichigo raised an eyebrow. «So, you think you're in a position to demand anything?», he taunted husky, slowly rubbing his fist one last time down Grimmjow´s shaft and let it linger tightly wrapped around its root. His mind went blank the moment he felt soft lips closing on his aching hard member. Teeth gently caressed his head, followed by a circling tongue and then suddenly cold air brushed over his throbbing member. He glanced down, almost pouting, and was greeted with a smirk. «Don't stop… Please!», he gasped out with a rough, hoarse voice that resembled more an animalistic growl.
With a satisfied moan, Ichigo sealed his lips again around Grimmjow's erection, enjoying the slightly salty taste of the other man. His nails dug deeper into the muscular ass of the blue-haired man and pulled him even closer. He wanted to take him as deep as possible, wanted to taste all of him. Shifting his position a bit he suddenly felt his own arousal hard and demanding - and neglected - between his own thighs. He let go of Grimmjow's shaft and directed his right hand between the layers of fabric, still wrapped around his hips.
The groaning of the younger man sent vibrating waves directly to his balls. Grimmjow looked down; his mind not fully capable to register the meaning behind Ichigo's groans. But then he recognised that the younger one was pleasing himself, and that turned him even more on. Ichigo's jerks were timed with his bobbing. Each time his tongue licked around Grimmjow´s crown, he imitated the movement with his thumb on his own hard member. Somewhere, deeply buried under tons of lust and electrifying heat, Grimmjow wondered for a second where the teen had learnt such a skilful handling of his tongue. But then his mind was suddenly filled with a white noise, the blood pulsated almost painfully in his temples and with a loud moan, he shot his load right down Ichigo´s throat.
Ichigo swallowed hard on Grimmjow´s load, but to his own surprise, he didn't choke on it. He loosened his grip on the other's ass and with a smirk on his face that almost resembled Zangetsu´s maniacal grin he let go of Grimmjow´s softening member. Planting a small kiss on a heavy trembling thigh he backed off a bit and looked up. Grimmjow had thrown his head back, his chest with the significant scar was glistening, his hands still buried in orange locks. Slowly he turned his gaze back down and let go of Ichigo´s hair. His trembling knees wouldn't support him any longer, so he slowly went down on his own knees. On eye level with Ichigo, a wide grin was plastered over his features. With a grunting snarl, he snapped for Ichigo´s wrist - the injured one - attached to a hand which was still slowly stroking a demandingly hard cock. Ichigo winced upon the harsh treatment and scowled at the blue-haired hollow.
Grimmjow leaned in, placed a chaste kiss on Ichigo´s lips and then pushed him down on his back. «Let me handle that,» he mumbled into the orange spikes while positioning himself over the body of the younger male. His lips trailed from Ichigo's neck down to his Adam's apple and further down his breastbone as if they were searching for something. Suddenly Ichigo arched his back and with both hands, he grabbed for Grimmjow´s shoulders, who smirked knowingly. «Ah, found it!» he whispered possessivly.
«What… That feels…,» Ichigo groaned quietly. He trembled in anticipation when the older one started to plant wet kisses on that spot. It felt searingly hot and the heat spread from this point into his limps and directly into his groin. His mind tried to come up with an explanation, why this exact part of his body seemed to be more sensitive, and then it deemed him. «Hole…!» he moaned and could feel Grimmjow's lips twitching into his trademark grin. An affirmative grumble was all he received and then Grimmjow´s teeth nibbled at the spot and Ichigo's moans became meaningless, wordless.
The Ex-Espada smiled on the reaction, but couldn't resist to sink his teeth deeper into the flesh. The moaning he received was even more delicate. But then he wanted to taste those lips again and he propped himself on his left hand. Grimmjow's lips trailed further up, along a delicate neck to the prominent jawline and further up his lips found Ichigo's. Immediately they were engaged in a devouring kiss, Ichigo's hands were deeply buried in his hair, while Grimmjow's free hand scratched along Ichigo's side, down to his waist and hip. He shifted his weight a bit more on his left side and grabbed for the substitute's hollow of the knee. With a demanding force he bent Ichigo's leg up and when he felt the younger's leg tightly wrapping around his waist he sank his claws into Ichigo's thigh and left four sharp and deep scratches in the flexing flesh.
With a sharp hiss Ichigo bit down Grimmjow's lower lip, but all he received was a low chuckle. «Stop teasing me, dammit,» he growled with a hoarse voice. Coming down with his full body weight the former Espada trapped Ichigo's movement. «So, you think you have a say in it?» the larger male asked with a wide grin, licking the blood from his lips caused by Ichigo's bite. Ichigo smirked on that remark, his hands let go of the blue hair and while he placed his left on Grimmjow's neck his right hand wandered down along the spine to the hole in his back. The jolt rushing through Grimmjow's body when he started to follow the rim of the hole with his index finger was immensely satisfying. His head fell back, his eyes closed and his lips half parted, he was a picture of pure lust, Ichigo couldn't stop to admire. But he wanted to see those eyes again, those black voids with a garland of blue light. With his hand on the Grimmjow's neck, he forced his head back while his other lingered playfully on his waist. «Look at me,» he whispered pleadingly.
Grimmjow obeyed the second he heard that smooth and pleading voice and locked eyes with Ichigo. A genuine smile spread on his face when he was greeted by deep red cheeks and half-parted lips. The leg around his waist pulled him closer, trapped his body's movement and he could feel Ichigo's hard and leaking dick poking into his thigh. «Say it!» the former Espada demanded with a rough voice. Ichigo's cheeks got even a deeper red, but he arched his back and pushed himself up until his mouth was right beside Grimmjow's ear. He pressed a chaste kiss on the earlobe and then husked almost silently one single word: «Please!».
Suddenly the weight that had pushed him down was gone. «Bed. Now,» Grimmjow commanded with a rough voice. «And get rid off that cloth,» he teased with a wide grin plastered all over his face while standing over the substitute Shinigami. Ichigo propped himself on his elbows and slowly stood up. While nestling with the way too tight knot he had fixed the bedlinen around his waist he thought nervously about what Grimmjow's intention might be. And with a slight shock it came to his mind that he, as usual, had rushed into the situation without a real plan. Sure, there had been a rather embarrassing conversation with hat-n-gloggs, one he didn't pay much attention to. Because the only thing on his mind for at least the past six months had been the brimming lust he had felt so many times when he crossed swords with Grimmjow. But hell, he had dreamt about this for so long. And he never had been someone who backed off. And fuck, he needed, urgently, some release.
So when he finally had opened the knot and the fabric felt to the floor he had made up his mind. With a sly smile he looked at the other, raising an eyebrow in question. Grimmjow grabbed his hands, this time a bit more gentle, and lead him to the bed. Ichigo´s calves hit the frame and with an equal sly smile on his face Grimmjow pushed him down. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ichigo looked up expectantly. He was more or less sure about what was to come, but he had told himself he wouldn't make it too easy for the blue haired menace. After all, he wasn't the type to just lay back and getting fucked mindless. And knowing the other one, Grimmjow probably would like a little challenge. Or so he hoped.
With a fluid motion Grimmjow straddled Ichigo's lap. «Suck it,» he demanded whispering and tipped two fingers on half-parted lips. Ichigo smirked but did what he was asked for. His tongue slid along the digits, played with them, before he took them fully in and started to coat them with his saliva as best as he could. After all, he needed them to be as smooth as possible. He usually wasn't the one who bottomed, not that he hadn't experienced the joys of being fucked rather than doing it. But it had been a while since, so he needed some preparation. When he looked up Grimmjow's eyes almost burned his mind to ashes and the last will to resist as long as possible, to make the blue-haired idiot work for his submission was gone. He moaned wantonly and sucked one last time on those fingers. He wanted them somewhere else, now.
Grimmjow smirked on that moan. And by all kami, Ichigo had a miraculous tongue. He was almost hard again just by watching those lips sucking on his fingers, by feeling the wet and hot muscle parting his digits and playing with them. And the recognition that Ichigo was about to give in, that he wanted to lay down on his back, that he longed for to get his tight ass filled up, almost made Grimmjow rethinking his intentions. So he hesitated when those smooth lips let go of his fingers, but then a low growling sound came from Kurosaki. He felt Ichigo's thighs trembling with anticipation, he felt the shifting of hips and the wriggling sensations that came from a hard and throbbing cock rubbing along his crouch. Still straddling Ichigo's lap, he pushed him down on his back. With one hand on the heaving chest, Grimmjow held the younger male in place when he slowly lifted his weight from Ichigo's lap. A maniacal grin split his face when Ichigo's clouded eyes got clear again and pierced through him with an astonished recognition.
«Grimm… What?». Not fully capable to process the full name of the Ex-Espada Ichigo tried to prop himself on his elbows, only to be pushed back roughly. A slow and low growl that promised both danger and satisfaction came from the upper male, dark eyes scanned that amazed expression on Ichigo's face. «Told you, I take care of it,» Grimmjow growled, then he licked his lips. «Just… Hold on a bit…». The whispering was almost too silent, but Ichigo understood anyway. Amazed, almost disbelieving, he watched Grimmjow prepping himself. The heartbeat of the orange haired raised to an unbearable height. He felt as if a stream of lava was pumping through his veins, as if with every pulse that stream set ablaze his body from the inside. Melted down his bones, his muscles and his skin. And Grimmjow hadn't even touched him by now.
The questioning expression on Ichigo's face that had changed into an utter and pure display of want the moment he had recognised Grimmjow's move, the heartbeat he could feel pounding under his palm, the short breaths – that all turned the former Espada on, stirred his own arousal. By the looks, the younger one probably wasn't going to hold back any longer. A smirk on his face he bent down and tightened his grip on the chest. His nails left thin red scratches in the skin and Ichigo's breaths came even shorter. With one hand around Grimmjow's wrist, Ichigo tried to pull away those piercing and scratching nails, with the other free hand he tried to push his upper body away from the bed. Chuckling Grimmjow pushed the substitute Shinigami back down and leaned closer. When their foreheads connected another short laughter escaped Grimmjow's lips. «That would be a first one for me, making someone come without even touching. So don't you even dare to come before I say so».
Ichigo's moan was like a symphony or Grimmjow's ears. He pulled back a bit and looked down on the writhing mess beneath him. He had him right where he had wanted the substitute Shinigami for so long. Writhing, moaning, beneath him and at his mercy. And somewhere deep inside him, he instantly recognised that this had always been, what he wanted. He had just covered his carnal desire with his bloodlust, his wish to break and destroy the teen. After all, these were emotions he could handle, he was familiar with – and it had been convenient during Aizen's reign in Hueco Mundo – imagine the one and only Espada of destruction horny as a cat in heat. His impatience suddenly flooded him, to hell with any preparation! He wouldn't be worth to be called the Espada of destruction if he weren't able to handle Ichigo's length. With a smug grin, he let go of Ichigo's chest and sat up in a more upright position, slowly pulling his fingers from his entrance.
«Fuck! You're killing me!» Ichigo moaned while he watched the blue-haired hollow with a growing sensation. Using the freedom he'd gotten from Grimmjow's move, he propped himself on his elbows, tilted his head to one side and glanced at him. «Putting up such a show doesn't help either, so I can't promise I'm going to withstand any longer,» he drawled with a slight tremble in his voice. He received a feral grin and then Grimmjow's large and warm hand was suddenly wrapped around his straining dick. His breath hitched and he let his head fall back. That moment the other used to, well in absence of any lube, to drool over a fiercely throbbing member. With two or three soft strokes he smeared the wet substance all over the member while positioning himself. For a second he held his breath then he achingly slowly sank down and impaled himself on Ichigo's shaft.
«Shit, Grimm...,» Ichigo hissed between heavy pants. His brain had stopped to function momentarily when Grimmjow had touched his achingly hard shaft, he hadn't even registered really that the other more or less fluidly had taken him in. Only when the ring of muscle clamped tightly at his member he realised what was happening. He slowly bent his head back to face the former Espada and was greeted by a smug grin. The fire in the chimney was almost out, only red and orange glowing pieces lit up the small room, outlined the large frame hoovering over Ichigo. «I wished I'd had your eyes,» Ichigo mumbled while reaching up with one arm to entangled his fingers in almost black tresses embellished with an orange halo. Grimmjow hummed lowly, then slowly rolled his hips. The blue haired smirked when the younger's body convulsed with desire and bent down. With a loud moan escaping from his lips, Ichigo sank down on his back, taking Grimmjow with him. Chest on chest they stayed motionless for a few moments. But then Grimmjow placed his forearms right beside Ichigo's head, framed the beautiful flustered face of the substitute Shinigami and buried his hands in the orange scalp. Leaning on his arms to balance his weight he slowly started to ride Ichigo's cock by rolling his hips.
Grimmjow's movement was tormenting slow, yet Ichigo indulged in every little friction. He never really had imagined Grimmjow to be the one on the receiving end. But then, he wasn't really ‚receiving', more ‚giving'. And upon this revelation, a small laughter erupted from Ichigo's chest. The painful grip on his scalp tightened and a dangerously growled ‚what' reached his ear. With a sly smile, Ichigo's own grip on hair got stronger and he pried Grimmjow's teeth from his shoulder. Locking eyes with him he put on a genuine smile. «It's just, I never imagined it to happen this way,» the orange-haired mumbled. «Not that I don't like it, feels too good,» he added, just to make clear that he thoroughly enjoyed it this way. Grimmjow's typical feral grin split his handsome face: «As long as I'm the one in control, no problem!». He literally purred the last word, while bending down and fetching Ichigo's lips with his owns.
Engaged in just another devouring kiss, they shifted their positions a bit. Ichigo stemmed his heels into the mattress and lifted his legs. With a impatient growl, Grimmjow let go of Ichigo's lips and pushed himself up. Finding a good hold on knees pressing into his back he had the chance to balance his pounding movements. Timing his own movement with Grimmjow's pounding, Ichigo snapped his hips a friction and buried his hard cock deeper into a tight and hot tunnel of muscles. Even in the almost dark room he could see that he had hit spot on Grimmjow's prostate. The other arched his back in a delicate manner, nails clawed into knees, his head fell back and some marvellous grunting moans escaped his lips.
Ichigo's hands caressed the heavy flexing thighs of the hollow and found their way up to his hips and waist. With a harsh grip, he fixed Grimmjow's movement and used the leverage he got to piston several times with short paced thrusts deeply into him. Again he was rewarded with deep moans that sent shivers down his spine. But then Grimmjow let go of his knees and bent down again, hovering over a heavy panting Ichigo. Steadying his frame with his left hand on the mattress he used his other hand to strangle the other male in a light, almost playful manner. A wide grin split his face and he bared his sharp teeth when he found Ichigo leaning in into his hold. His grip got stronger and he could feel the blood rushing under his fingers.
When Grimmjow started again to ride his cock, Ichigo's hand wrapped itself around the wrist attached to the hand that was choking him. He wanted that hand right there, wanted to feel vulnerable and sort of helpless. But not helpless enough to not let his other hand trailing the scar across Grimmjow's chest, down to the hollow hole and further down where he found a hard, proud and already leaking dick. Smirking he started to pump Grimmjow's demandingly hard member. He timed his strokes with Grimmjow's moves and tried almost desperately to hold on a little bit more, to not come already. He wanted to prolong his own climax as long as possible because he was sure, this was a once-in-a-lifetime-thing. But then he felt contracting muscles clamping around his hard cock, the strangling got stronger and Grimmjow moaned some curses. Ichigo started to see black dots in front of his eyes and his body became numb and tickling the same time. With one last stroke down Grimmjow's shaft, he felt the other spilling his second load that night and the constriction on his organ deeply buried in the former Espada's ass literally milked him mindless. With one last attempt, he pried the hand from his throat and released himself.
«My, I don't think that was on Urahara's mind when he told me we should enjoy this trip ...,» Ichigo mumbled more to himself than to the other who laid atop of him. Grimmjow chuckled and turned to one side, one arm still across Ichigo's chest, one leg entangled in the other's limps. «Hmm, you're ruining the moment. Talking about another man, tsk,» he grumbled with amusement. Ichigo turned his head to face the other «Ah, as if I ever wished for another man. And after today, you ruined me for the rest of manhood...,» he chirped teasingly. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched into a feral grin. «Cheesy, way too cheesy,» he taunted the other who's heartbeat he still felt racing under his palm. Ichigo smiled and raised one hand to comb through blue bangs and brushed them aside. «Stubborn idiot! Half a year, so many missed opportunities. You do know you have to come up with some kind of reparation, don't you?»
«Hmm,» Grimmjow mumbled into the mattress, «I do have an idea or two. So how long until racoon-face is sending out a rescue-team?». Ichigo tried to frown at the other, but his telltale eyes gave away his amusement. «Told him I need a week,» the younger one answered. «And he is not going to send a rescue-team, rather a killer-squad. Because, me, not returning, means you'd killed me.»
«Ah yes. Because, how had he put it ‚An Arrancar, ally or not, might not be aware of the concept of sharing intimacy', wasn't it?» Grimmjow's hoarse whisper reached Ichigo's ear. «Hmm, something like …,» Ichigo stopped suddenly and harshly sat up. «Wait a sec. That's exactly what he said. Why do you…,» wide-eyed he stared down at the man lying beside him, seemingly highly amused by his reaction.
«Told you, my hearing is better than yours,» Grimmjow answered with a low chuckle while he fetched for Ichigo's arm. Pulling the other down he revealed, «When I arrived at the Shoten, three days ago, no one was around. So I let myself in, and when I passed the counter with the fake cash register, I heard you talking.»
The younger man propped himself on his elbow and backed off a bit. «But we were downstairs! And the door was closed! No way you could hear us talking!» Ichigo groaned, slightly embarrassed. How much of the conversation he had with Kisuke Grimmjow did overhear?
«I remember now, I already told you that racoon-face has no idea what he is talking about.» Seeing the others confused look he added: «Hmm, you should improve your French… the language, that is.» Grimmjow let his fingers playfully wander along Ichigo's side, down to his waist and hip. Leaning in closer his lips suddenly ghosted along Ichigo's neck, up to his ear lobe, and the faint touches let Ichigo hum with delight. «And, by the way, I'm not the only stubborn idiot around. So, how you gonna pay for all the missed opportunities?».