A/N: Just a oneshot inspired by a perverted quote that randomly popped up in my sick, sick mind. Rated T for language.
Grimmjow was frustrated. Although this was not a rare occasion, something was up. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was that brought about his bad mood. Was it the tea? Or Aizen, again? But that bastard was always there, so it didn't really make a difference. Ulquiorra? The same reasoning applied to the Cuartro Espada as well. So what was it?
He swatted another low-level arrancar that was unfortunate enough to be in his way, sending the whimpering hollow flying to another direction. Fifth one this morning. As he walked down the hall, now empty except for the few bodies lying here and there, something caught his eye. There was a notification on the board. From Aizen. Fucking great. Annoyed, he approached the wall and eyed the white piece of paper. What did the bastard want this time?
Dear all residents of Las Noches,
As you may have noticed, our Sexta Espada Grimmjow has been in an exceptionally foul mood as of recently. Fear not, for this temporary crisis will soon pass. However, for the time being you are advised to stay away from the said Espada if you value your own safety. Those of you whose interactions with him result in any kind of injuries will not be able to hold anyone responsible, for you have been duly warned.
Sincerely,
Your Lord Aizen-sama
Grimjow blinked. Once, then twice. His name was the subject of this notification. Huh?
He supposed his ruthless bullying of other hollows did not go unnoticed by Aizen, but what the hell was this for a reaction? Warning people to stay away from him... Aizen wasn't even mad about his behaviour? What the hell was he playing at? Too many questions, not enough IQ to answer any, Grimmjow stalked on.
Soon, he came to stop in another corridor. The door to his left was open. It was Ulquiorra's room. He wasn't sure why his feet took him there.
"Grimmjow," came Ulquiorra's usual cold greeting.
His head snapped up at the sound of that voice. Automatically plastered on his face was one of his best sneers.
"What, you're talking to me now? Aren't you afraid of Aizen's order?"
Ulquiorra looked at him evenly. "Aizen-sama merely advised other arrancar to beware of you- it wasn't a direct order. Besides, I'm of a higher rank than you are, what makes you think I'd be intimidated by you, Grimmjow?"
Well, that was too easy an invitation to pass up. Grimmjow stuffed his hands in his pockets and casually strolled into the room, ignoring the disapproving glare he was receiving for the other Espada.
"Dunno. Maybe it's cuz you're so fucking skinny I could crush your whole waist with my bare hand? Or cuz..." Grimmjow trailed off, looking the smaller arrancar up and down. Where should he start? There were so many things about Ulquiorra he could make fun of. His clown-like makeup, his apparent lack of eyebrows...
However, Grimmjow's eyes rested on the man's thin frame. He looked so fragile, but yet so strong. For someone that size to hold such power, even he had to admit that that was quite something. Then there was his famous apathy, so annoying to Grimmjow, yet so well-craved for. That particular asset of his was almost sexy...
Hold it. Where were these thoughts coming from? All of a sudden Grimmjow felt dazed, and his mind drew a blank. He wasn't all too aware of the fact that he'd been quiet for some time now, just standing there, staring at the green-eyed Espada. Somehow, Grimmjow didn't mind at all. He allowed himself to go back to inspecting Ulquiorra. His eyes raked over the frail body, taking in every detail.
Hm...this felt strangely good.
Meanwhile, Ulquiorra, the bastard, was starring at him all weird.
"Grimmjow," he sighed, "I understand it's the mating season, but must you hump my furniture?"
"Muh?" He looked down, and sure enough, his lower half was offending Ulquiorra's green armchair.
What the fuck?
Then, as though struck by lightning, it all became clear to him. Of course! It was THAT time of the year. How could he have forgotten? He looked back up at Ulquiorra, who was doing the perfect job at keeping a straight face. Well, if this wasn't classified as awkward, Grimmjow didn't know what was.
Without saying a word, the Sexta Espada turned around, stalked quietly out the door, and made his way back to his room as quickly as he could, making a mental note not to leave the place for the next coming ten days.
A/N: yes, I did in fact look up the cat's breeding season *sweatdrop*
I remember my cat acting all weird for a week, once a year. Poor, horny grim-grim…