Beautiful Stranger;
A GrimmUlqui Yaoi Fan Fiction.

Ulquiorra Schiffer, a twenty four year-old teacher, loved walking home. He liked seeing the sun and the sky shift colors as he came closer and closer to his destination. For him, other than solitude, the sun setting and rising were the best gifts of life. No matter how tired he was from teaching hard-headed high school students (and delinquents in detention), he would ease up right away once he reached that one spot on his way home where he felt like he could gaze at the colorful sky forever as the sun slowly disappears in between the sky and sea.

It was simply breathtaking.

His green eyes never grew tired of admiring the scene that was happening before him—the skies were in a feud of soft colors as the ocean did nothing but to reflect and bring better accentuation to the bright sun. He always felt like he could stand there all day if such phenomenon would last that long. It was soothing, relaxing to the nerves... exactly what he needed every after work. Everyone said he was weird in being able to keep cool far longer than anyone else, but he always took it somehow as a compliment to him and to this hobby of his. He always believed that nature has its own magic, and he was happy to be a proof of that.

As he was peacefully watching his favored sight, he caught something that was out of place in the corner of his eyes—a flash of light. Was there someone taking the picture of the sunset again? He shook his head. Pictures can not do justice to nature's beauty, why can't people understand that? Every single day he would see that flash of light, meaning whoever was taking the picture had yet to conceive the perfect shot. But for almost a month of doing such, hadn't it possible to realize that it was simply impossible?

Flash, flash, flash, flash, flash, flash, flash... was it still not enough? Just how many failures could this man get over? This was pathetic, and very annoying to the extent that it was starting to get on his nerves. The flashes of light were disturbing the serene moment, and he hated that more than anything else. He turned to the side, to where the flashes were from, and saw a man leaning forward the metal rails with a camera hanging on his neck.

Again?

Ulquiorra had seen him more than times that he could count. It was almost every single day that the man was there, desperately trying to get that perfect shot. He guess he'd be more surprised if it were someone else by then, since the awkwardly blue-haired man didn't seem to be the one to give up until he got what he wanted, considering the length of time he had spent there.

Well, the mood was ruined now. So even when the sun was yet to drown in the reflecting see, the impassive man took his leave. Sliding his hands to his pockets and securing his things under his arm, he walked down the street and passed the nature-photographer.

"Beautiful," Ulquiorra heard the man say, and it was impossible to disagree.

xxx

Friday, Ulquiorra was out there again, watching the sunset, and so was the hopeless photographer. This time, though, he needed his inner reflection more than ever before. Since he had skipped watching the sun thrice in a row, he was starting to get easily irritated during his teaching. One time he had even snapped on a student who was late with a very reasonable excuse (the poor boy even helped his father in their clinic). Almost everything was getting on his nerves, and he needed to calm down. Right. Now.

Blocking the flashes of light and the man itself from existence in his mind, the pale teacher did not notice the man approaching him with a broad grin. If he did, he would've hit the man already to that perfect spot, recognizing the type of smile adorning those lips. It was maniacal and can never be mistaken as something less... dangerous.

The teacher jerked, his body stiffening, as he felt something that could not be lifeless on his behind. Ulquiorra hurriedly twisted around and made sure to catch the offending whatever so he could cut it right from its roots. He tightened his grip, able to catch the hand of the man that had the nerve to touch him. And to his surprise, it was the blue-haired photographer who greeted him with a flash of light.

Ulquiorra squinted, blinded temporarily by the light, but kept a firm grip on the stranger's hand. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the blue-haired stranger looking at the mini-screen of which turned out to be his digital camera. That was something new. Perhaps it was newly bought? How naïve, the cold teacher thought, did the photographer seriously think that the reason he couldn't get a perfect shot was because of his camera? Tsk. Tsk.

...and speaking of shots, his picture was taken, right? Right.

"Delete it." He said firmly and tightened his grip on the stranger, seemingly forgetting what the hand he was holding just did to his... er, behind.

Blue eyes turned to him, the toothy grin returning to his features. "Why would I?"

"Because you invaded my rights, my privacy." He reasoned, his empty mask unwavering. "Delete it."

The photographer gauged him, looking from head to toe. He raised an eyebrow at this, feeling absolutely awkward. Those eyes were looking a little too amused to his liking, and he felt like the stranger was actually checking him up. If the type of greeting he received minutes ago was anything to go by, then that the man was, in fact, gay. Realizing this, his hold loosened like a reflex as if he held something that was scorching hot.

"I'll repeat myself for the last time... delete my picture."

"What if I say no?"

"I'll sue you."

"Oh really?" the blue-haired (gay) stranger leaned down, their faces only inches apart. "For what?"

"Obviously for stalking... and for sexual harassment."

"I wonder how you'd prove that. We're in a public place, you know?" the man shrugged, turning the digital camera on and taking another picture of the pale teacher one more with the flash. "Once I delete these pictures, I'd be free."

"The point exactly."

"Didn't say I will, though." He straightened his back, letting his camera dangle by his chest, and slid his hands to his pockets. He flashed his large grin again, looking down at the green-eyed teacher as if provoking. "As for the sexual harassment... can't a man greet another man by touching them?"

"If you were too stupid to know, for your information, you touched my—"

"Your ass. I fucking touched your sexy ass. What's so wrong about that?"

Ulquiorra groaned, that just sounded so wrong. So very wrong. He really couldn't understand homosexuals or even bisexuals, but that didn't mean he has something against them. He was okay with them, but the fact that he was a gay magnet –the man before him being a proof –kept him at least a mile away from then. He didn't want to be raped, because that was all that was written in their faces every time he would meet one.

He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, calming him a bit, and thank God he was given a moment alone before this person attacked. He might survive through this without bloodshed after all. "Normal people either touch a person's back or shoulder as a greeting."

"I did touch your back. Where the hell do you think your ass is?"

Okay, this homo was definitely smarter and more annoying than those he had met before. He sighed, putting his hands back to his pockets and stared back at those calculative blue eyes.

"What? Do you have problems recognizing your front to your back?" The photographer stepped forward, cupping and squeezing Ulquiorra's crotch. He yelped, stiffening for the second time that day due to being touched. He didn't like making physical contacts in general, but he could let them pass from time to time, but this was certainly out of the norm! "Oh, look. You do have a dick. Or you don't know what a dick is?"

Ulquiorra's naturally pale skin flushed red, anger written all over his face. He clenched his fist and gave the stranger the strongest punch he could, but it was caught before it managed to hit. The man showed him that familiar smirk again, sending him into panic, but before he could recover and think of something to do, the stranger dove down to his lips.

Shit. He hurriedly turned away, finding the action perfectly familiar as it was done to him millions of times but failed. The teacher withdrew his hand and sent his other to try for another hit, but it was stopped the same way the first one was. Then suddenly, they heard a beeping sound.

"Oh, crap." The stranger turned down to his waist, feeling something also vibrating inside his pocket. He released his grip on the other's knuckle, and pulled his phone to his ear, slowly turning away. "Jeagerjaquez speaking."

Jeagerjaquez?

"Ahh, past six. Yeah... Now? What the hell is that? Well, fuck him."

Ulquiorra, for some reason, listened to the stranger's conversation over the phone which was a lot more colorful than any other conversation he had heard. Ever since the first cuss was spoken, not a sentence was spared without it. It appeared that the photographer was not only smart and annoying, but quite interesting and peculiar, too.

Soon, the phone call was ended.

"Well, I gotta go." The blue-haired stranger turned to him with a smirk, "Let's meet up on Saturday."

"...why would I want that?"

The photographer paused, seemingly surprised, and then laughed. "Are you forgetting your pics already? If you come on Saturday, I promise I'll delete the pictures I took of you today. Don't you think that's a lot less troublesome than filing a case against me?"

Ulquiorra thought for a moment, and then... "This Saturday?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. And," he slid his hand to his back pocket and pulled out a small card. "Name's Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. Call if you can't come, okay? I hate looking like an idiot."

"Understood." Ulquiorra took out his hand to receive the calling card when the blue-haired photographer, Grimmjow, slid it inside his shirt and leaned in, giving him a light kiss on the cheek before running off. The poor teacher could only stare in surprise. It was his first kiss and it was taken by a complete stranger. Well, at least it wasn't on his lips.

He walked back home, feeling more tired than he'd usually be. Now it was four days in a row that he had not gotten his chance to relax while watching the sun and all was due to the annoying, thick-headed, blue-haired photographer now named as Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. The name certainly was ringing some bells, but Ulquiorra couldn't put a finger just where he heard. Once that he thought hard enough, it gave him the feeling that he didn't hear it, but rather saw it. Read it... somewhere. Perhaps it was one of the vandals in their neighborhood? Could be.

Once he had unlocked the door, Ulquiorra threw himself to his bed and simply dropped his things at the doorway. His brain was too tired to trouble about trivial things, and he could just clean up again someday. He sighed, burying himself on his mounts of black pillows over his deep green bed covers. For some reason, he could still feel those damp lips against his cheek, and when he would reach out to touch it, he felt like they were burning... turned out that he cheeks were flushed red every time he thought about it.

He hated it.

With a groan, he threw a pillow through the open door without caring if it hit something (which it did and broke his vase into tiny pieces) and turned to lie on his back. Ulquiorra stared up at his ivory ceiling, finding himself wondering once more to the kiss he received earlier that day. He blushed again, causing him to lose one more pillow to the wall outside his room.

xxx

Hours were agonizingly slow, but he pulled through to the next day. Ulquiorra was still staring up the ceiling, barely sleeping a wink last night, and gave a deep sigh. As much as he hated to go on his rest day, he didn't like the idea of his pictures being the object of fantasies of a certain perverted man, which worse case would be being the being fantasized by every perverted man. So, he sat up and headed to take a long bath. He had a thing for hygiene, and besides that, bubble baths, although very feminine or childish, could soothe his nerves even just a little, helping him to go through the day without ending up killing someone or worse, his whole annoying class.

An hour later, he was ready to leave. As he was locking his front door, he suddenly realized that they had not talked about the time and the place they would meet up. He didn't thought of not coming so didn't thought about calling, and by the sound of the conversation the photographer had over his cell phone, the man seemed pretty busy.

Ulquiorra sighed. Why was this giving him the impression that he was even excited to see that perverted stranger? Taking his own phone out along with the man's calling card, he carefully dialed the number and lifted it to his ear. As strange as it might sound, Ulquiorra thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a likeable part in the photographer's attitude. He meant, everyone had one, and sometimes first impressions just get the best of our attention most of the time.

Once it started to... ring?

"Ngghh... ahh… Ah! AH! H-harder! Harder! Aaa—"

Ulquiorra hurriedly shut his phone off, his cheeks burning red beyond belief, and took back what he said about the man's attitude. He was so right about him!

xxx

A man clad in white knelt by a porcelain tub, playing with the pictures floating in the water with a finger. He sighed, staring at his shots. He was beginning to grow tired of them, not being able to get that perfect shot that every photographer dreams of, but he couldn't quite get himself to thrown them away.

Taking pictures was more like breathing to him. He never worried about getting the right shots, because it one click, he'd get them right away. It was the first time that he'd been this frustrated, the very first time that he couldn't get the shot that he wanted. For the uncountable time that day, he sighed.

"Ooh, Grimmy-chan!" an annoyingly, playful, high-pitched voice echoed throughout the red lit room as the door swung open.

Grimmy-chan groaned, standing to face the fox-faced intruder, "Don't call me 'Grimmy-chan', or better yet, don't fucking call me at all! I already told you I don't want you coming here!"

The man's smile grew wider, tilting his head to the side as if teasing. "But yer phone went ringin', Grimmy."

"Don't call me that." He said, growling and snatching his silver phone that was dangling by the strap on the older man's slim finger. He flipped his phone open and stared at the numbers that flashed in his screen without any name. "How long did it ring?"

"Well, it ended as sudden as it rang."

"Really?" Grimmjow stared at the numbers, soon pressing the same series on his keypad. "That's weird."

"Well, Grimm, Luppi-chan an' I hafta' confess to ya."

He raised a brow, "Confess what? And the name's fucking Grimmjow."

"Okay, fucking Grimmy," the silver-haired man sang as if innocent to what he had said. "We wanna see if Nnoi-kun's tune 'as still 'vailable fer download."

"Tune? What tune?" Grimmy pressed the call button and raised his phone to his ear, patiently listening to the monotonous ringing to stop.

"Didja call Nnoi-kun even once last month?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Didja like his ring-back?"

"Like? Wasn't the one he had last month was a voice of a woman getting fu—" Suddenly it hit him, his eye twitching in anger. "FUCK! YOU SHITTY BASTARDS!"

"Hiyaa~" the silver-haired man ran for cover, putting his hands over his head and slouching a little as he left the room as quickly as he could as if in the middle of a war zone.

"ICHIMARU! COME BACK HERE! HEY! YOU MOTHERFU—"

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey." Grimmjow suddenly stopped, slamming the door instead. "This is Jeagerjaquez. Umm, sorry about the ring-back, a friend of mine was being an ass. So, who's this?"

xxx

Ulquiorra sighed, playing with the ear of his half-empty cup as he waited for the blue-haired photographer to arrive. It turned out that the man forgot about their engagement, and if he didn't call, the pictures of him would've been left alone to be forgotten for all eternity in the digital camera. Thinking about it, maybe it was better if didn't he get so worried and just stayed at home.

"I'm here." Came a puffing voice. The now bored teacher looked back, seeing the blue-haired photographer dressed up in plain, white clothes with a camera still hanging on neck. The spiky blue hair was still up, but was quite disheveled in a way that it didn't look appealing. Seeing the disgust that filled those round green eyes as he met them, Grimmjow smirked and said, "I bathe, you shit."

The photographer walked to the chair opposite the Ulquiorra and sat down, still with a heaving chest as he tried to catch for his breath. He had ran all the way to the meeting place and that was because Ichimaru and Luppi was still not satisfied with fucking up his cell phone and hid his motorcycle keys. The man he wanted to meet gave him exactly half an hour, and if he was late even a minute later, he'd leave.

Grimmjow was sprawled on his seat with his head tilted back, eyes watching the light peak through the large green and white umbrella that covered them from the sun. He breathed in deep, and sighed. He was so tired. He didn't know he could run that far in fifteen minutes!

"You know," he started, still panting. "It's funny that you had the guts to threaten me with leaving."

"I don't see any fault in what I said." Ulquiorra replied, bringing the cup of coffee to his lips as he closed his eyes to have the beverage soothe his whole body. He was finally starting to relax and feel better after these past, very stressful days. "The agreement was that I come, and I did. We simply did not meet."

"If that's the case, smartass, you should've just left." He groaned, lifting his head to watch the green-eyed man taking in his coffee.

"Hm." Ulquiorra laid his cup down and looked up to meet those blue eyes, "I'm also smart enough to make sure that you keep to your part of the deal."

"Hey, I'm not a liar."

"Didn't say you were." Grimmjow's eyebrow rose at this, "I just said I was making sure."

"Whatever." The photographer groaned, bending forward and resting his forehead over the table.

"That is very unsightly."

"Makes me sexier, though. That's what matters." Grimmjow shot up, seeing a waitress approaching their table. He flashed a grin that Ulquiorra knew so well, and before he could comment about it, Grimmjow's hand was already touching the woman's behind as he playfully whispered his order. Oh, the poor girl.

The pale teacher sighed, drawing circles on his temple to ease the migraine that he dubbed as Grimmjow, naming it after the source of his misery. He hadn't slept so well, so he was prone to losing his temper even with the tiniest things. "Must you do that?" he said once the woman was out of earshot.

"It's how I greet." The photographer flicked his tongue, still looking at the very well endowed (or breasted) waitress who was too shy and too scared to say anything. Turning back to the raven-haired, he kept that toothy grin to grace his lips. "Now you know I wasn't harassing you."

"Yes, you did. And you just gave me another witness to send you to prison."

"You're still thinking about that?"

"Of course," he replied, mixing his coffee with a small spoon. "It's my last resort when worse comes to worst."

"I'm already at my worst." Grimmjow grinned, hovering and reaching out to the other over the table, and stopped only when their noses were only an inch apart. A situation that was all too familiar to Ulquiorra as well.

"The more reason why I have to collect evidence." He said, inching back and glaring at the photographer. "You better think twice before letting your stupidity get the best of you once more."

The waitress whose behind Grimmjow groped earlier was back with a tray. As the woman laid his order to the table, the blue-haired, perverted photographer grinned again as bent forward to get a good view of the woman's bust. Noticing this, Ulquiorra couldn't help but shake his head. Well, somehow, his first impression of Grimmjow on him being gay was wrong (because he was just plainly perverted without any sexual preference), but other than that... he wasn't taking anything back. And if change itself would grovel at his feet to say anything, Ulquiorra would add that Grimmjow was, without a doubt, trash. End of story.

"Then again, I should've known that you could not comprehend even the simplest things."

The blue-eyed man chuckled, "I'm just having fun, you know."

"The definition of fun... varies from person to person, if you must know."

Grimmjow took his own cup to his lips, sipping the newly brewed coffee. "Fuck, this is good."

"If it isn't too impossible for you, could you speak even just a bit more reputable? It would surely do well in your reputation."

"Never cared about it."

"I can see that." Ulquiorra picked up his cup, having his last drink of his order. "Now, the pictures." Grimmjow spurted out his drink, having a few brown droplets shamefully stain the white tablecloth. Having the cup down to the table, Ulquiorra noticed the evident trace of the dark coffee above the photographer's lips. He sighed, "You look pathetic. Have you ever drunk in public before? Or coffee, at least?"

"Sorry." He apologized, wiping his mouth with the back of his fist. "But you're leaving already?"

"Yes, I still have lots of things to do." His slim fingers pointed at the camera on the blue-eyed's chest. "Delete them."

"Oh, come on!" Grimmjow whined, "I just arrived!"

"You arrived five minutes ago. Be thankful that I am courteous enough not to leave by seeing the mere sight of you." He stood up, "Furthermore, if I must repeat, the agreement was that I come. There was no... having quality time involved."

True, and Grimmjow couldn't think of any comeback at the moment so he turned on his camera and navigated through the thousands of pictures saved. "C'mere, watch me delete the fucking pics, so you can sleep soundly tonight without accusing me of not keeping my damn word."

Ulquiorra did stand beside the photographer, watching him delete those two pictures from yesterday. He sighed, the burden finally off his shoulders. "I'll be leaving now, then."

"Yeah, sure." Grimmjow groaned as he continued to use his camera, "Oh, hey! Wait a minute! You better take a look at this!"

The hopeless fool, Ulquiorra thought. Shaking his head, he decided to at least have the man satisfied before eternally disappearing from his life. The stoic one walked back to their table and looked over the photographer's shoulder only to be blinded thrice by a familiar flash of light.

"Cool," he grinned, "Have new pics now."

"You trash." He rubbed his green eyes, and as he was temporary blinded, he felt a hand holding his arm firmly, as if keeping him from stumbling or anything that could hurt him. As his sight was finally recovering, he felt something damp on his cheek. Was it raining?

"See you on Monday." A deep voice whispered in his ear.

By the time Ulquiorra could finally see again, the blue-haired photographer was nowhere to be seen, leaving him to ponder just what touched his cheek that could be a little cold and damp since the sun was shining brightly as he looked up in the clear, blue sky.