Raise the Bet
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez stared in horror at the object he held in his hands. There was no way he had actually agreed to do this, was there? How had it come to this, he wondered? How was it possible that he, the Sexta Espada, had found himself in such a predicament?
It had all started that afternoon, which happened to be unusually uneventful. No boring meetings, no explosions coming from Szayel's laboratory, no yelling from Nnoitra's room. Nothing at all. Grimmjow found himself trapped in Ulquiorra Cifer's quarters, with nothing else to do other than watch his lover read. It was boring as fuck.
"Hey, Ulquiorra, let's do something. I'm bored as hell."
Said Espada barely raised his gaze from his book to briefly direct his green eyes towards his blue-haired companion.
"Even if you seem to believe otherwise, I was not created for your personal entertainment."
Grimmjow growled in exasperation just as Ulquiorra resumed his reading. Seriously, the sex was amazing and their relationship was great (mostly), but Cifer could be so difficult at times.
After a minute or so of silent pondering, Grimmjow decided to try again. If he knew his partner well enough, he was sure he'd give in if he kept bugging him.
"Hey Ulquiorra, let's play something."
Cifer sighed. Grimmjow just wouldn't give up once an idea settled down on his mind. And the blue-haired panther knew how to be annoying when he was bored.
"I thought we had settled that I'm superior both physically and intellectually, thus any kind of challenge would have the same outcome."
"Awww, c'mon! Even you must be bored now! Just a little game! If yer so sure yer gonna win, then ya got nothing ta lose, right?"
Ulquiorra pondered his options. He could keep refusing and hope against all hopes that Grimmjow would eventually get tired and leave him alone. Fat chance. Or he could stop this nonsense, defeat him in whatever game he would come up with, and then go back to his peaceful, quiet afternoon. Slowly, he put his book down in defeat.
"Fine. What did you have in mind?"
Grimmjow grinned victoriously and jumped up from the bed he'd been lying in.
"Ain't that obvious? We're having a drinking game!"
Grimmjow looked at the image in the mirror. He couldn't believe this was actually happening to him. He tried fruitlessly to fix the garments to make them look less… stupid. Waste of time. There was no way he could look less stupid wearing this. Seriously, when he had challenged that little bastard he'd never imagined this kind of outcome.
Why did things always turn out for the worst for him?
Ulquiorra quietly followed Grimmjow to the liquor vault, starting to regret his decision to give in to his lover's childish demands. Of all the things he could have thought of, he had to choose a drinking game. Typical Grimmjow.
Grimmjow was grinning like a maniac. Yes, Ulquiorra did beat him in almost everything. Well, actually, the little pest kicked his ass monumentally every time Grimmjow decided to challenge him, were it a one-on-one fight, an intelligence game (not that he hoped to win on those), sports, board games, verbal quarrels (that asshole and his big words), and even when gambling (lucky bastard). But there was no way he could lose in a drinking game, because Ulquiorra didn't drink at all. Grimmjow was certain that the Cuatro had never tasted a single beer in his life. He was sure he had this victory in his pocket.
After Aizen's arrival, he and his lackeys had built a series of strange rooms, most of which many Arrancars considered stupid or useless. A library (why would an Arrancar want to read, anyway?), a music room, a kitchen (as if anyone could cook in this hellhole), and a greenhouse to name a few. But Ichimaru was a loon and he loved parties, so he also built a liquour vault with a bar and tables that was ridiculously well supplied. Arrancar and Espada could take the booze to their rooms and drink themselves to oblivion privately, or they would eventually organize crazy parties in the vault.
"Well, the rules are easy" Grimmjow said, grabbing two bottles of beer "we'll be drinking at the same time, so both of us'll be drinking the same. First one to pass out loses."
Ulquiorra simply nodded. He wanted to get done with this as soon as possible.
"Of course, the loser must do whatever the winner orders him to." the Sexta added with a lecherous grin plastered all over his face as he sat on the bar and handed a full glass to his partner. This is too easy, he thought as they both downed their first glass simultaneously, he's gonna be K.O. before I'm done with the first bottle.
No matter how many times he pulled the fabric, no matter how many times he closed his eyes, he was always met with the same horrific image on the mirror. He still couldn't believe he was trapped in this horrible situation. He thought he'd calculated everything so that he'd never lose, all the possibilities were on his favor. Then what could have ever gone wrong to cause him to be here humiliating himself like this?
Two hours and twelve bottles of beer later, Grimmjow was starting to get impatient. As they drank glass after glass of liquor, he started to wonder if Ulquiorra was a closet alcoholic, or something. The guy just kept downing more and more booze as if he were drinking water, his face as stoic as ever. If only, he just showed some mild disgust towards the 'urine-colored liquid' as he called it after the first two glasses, but nothing else.
He growled angrily as he pulled out a bottle of vodka. There was just no way the little shit would beat him today.
Of course it hadn't been part of Grimmjow's plan to see Ulquiorra in all five senses after two bottles of vodka and three bottles of tequila. Nor did he expect to start feeling light-headed so soon. He was not a pansy! He could take more than this! But seeing the arrogant green-haired bastard drinking like a sailor without showing any sort of alteration made him so mad, that the alcohol must've been affecting him more than it should have.
Grimmjow downed another glass of vodka and almost smashed the glass against the table as he watchd his opponent calmly drinking from his own glass. Ulquiorra watched him curiously, but didn't say a word. Grimmjow wasn't sure if he was getting more drunk because he was mad, or if he was getting madder because he was drunk, but he couldn't stand that fucking condescendent look anymore.
He threw the glass away and took out two bottles of scotch and handed one to the green-eyed bastard.
"We're gonna raise the level just a bit now." He said as he uncapped his bottle with his fangs angrily. "Or is it too much for ya?" he teased as he took a long gulp of the burnt color liquid.
Ulquiorra didn't answer, but copied Grimmjow's actions and drank silently.
After he was done with the bottle, Grimmjow knew for sure that he was not imagining the fuzzy feeling in his brain. And fuck, either Ulquiorra was a master actor, or he was fucking cheating. You couldn't drink that much and keep that deadpanned face that seemed permanently stuck on his face.
Two more empty bottles layed on each side of the bar. Grimmjow had lost count of how much he'd drunk already. Actually, he wasn't even sure of what he was doing anymore. He was slumped over the bar and could barely lift his head enough to catch a glimpse of Ulquiorra impassively wiping the corner of his mouth with a hankerchief. Seriously, the guy was trying to piss him off or what?
"So wut? Feelin' funny a'ready? Y'kno' ye can't keep hidin' it ferever. Y'should jus' give up, ye've got no chance 'ere."
The blue-haired Espada didn't get to see the amused look in his partner's eyes, for he passed out before he could continue slurring nonsense.
Grimmjow opened his eyes and found himself in Ulquiorra's dimly lit room. His head felt like it was going to explode and he knew he'd have to rush to the toilet any second. Curse hangovers. He wasn't certain of what time of the day it was, or for how long he had been out of it. Heck, he didn't even remember half of what had happened before he lost consciousness. Though he was quite certain that he was very pissed off when he blacked out.
"I see you are finally back to your senses"
The blue-eyed Espada flinched. He searched the room until he met a pair of emerald eyes watching him intently.
"Shit. I feel like crap."
Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow and rised from his chair, walking towards him with that almost maddening slow pace. It was then that Grimmjow realized that he was not laying on the bed, as he would've initially thought, but on the cold hard floor, which would explain why his bones were all crying in pain.
"I would have imagined that you were familiar with the after effects of having too much liquor."
"Ya can be all familiar ya want. It still hurts like bitch."
Grimmjow rose from the ground, immediately regretting it, as he felt a strong wave of nausea hitting him. After he had emptied his stomach in the bathroom, he came back to the main room. Ulquiorra was now sitting on the bed, his hands resting on his lap.
"I suppose I can claim my prize now?"
"Huh?"
"I said I wanted to claim my prize. You proposed a bet and lost. You must abide by the rules. Now you must do anything I want you to."
Grimmjow cursed to himself. He had totally forgotten about that stupid bet. Ulquiorra had an expectant look on his face. Grimmjow was starting to get worried. Whatever was that bitch planning for him? He tried to calm himself down. This was Ulquiorra-boring-Cifer, what could he think of? Order him to be quiet for the rest of the week? Challenging, but not unbearable. Still, that look was making him feel uneasy. Shit, how in fuck had he lost to Ulquiorra in a freakin' drinking game?
"Fine, fine whatever ya want. But answer me something. How can ya drink that much without even blinking? Ya don't even look hungover. What's the trick?"
Ulquiorra would have rolled his eyes. But displaying such an exaggerated facial expression was beneath him, so he simply sighed in slight annoyance. Grimmjow just had to pick on the silliest of details.
"I will make it simple for you to understand. I hope you know that the amount of alcohol you consume on a regular basis is enough to poison a human's liver. Your body is able to withstand it because your Spiritual Power makes you more resistant than humans. My own Spiritual Power, being vastly superior to yours, makes me not only resistant, but immune to the effects of alcohol. As a result of this, regardless of how much liquour I consume, I would never get inhebriated."
Grimmjow stared at him dumbfoundedly. Maybe he was still a bit drunk and hadn't heard right. So he hadn't had any chance to win to begin with? And the little shit had known all along?
"Oi! That's cheating! Ya can't get into a game if ya know ya have that kind of advantage! It's not fair!"
Ulquiorra stood up from the bed and walked towards his wardrobe, apparently unaffected by Grimmjow's accusations.
"Technically," he began, while searching for something among the worlds of white uniforms, "that would apply to you as well. When you proposed the game, you thought you had an advantage, since you have more experience, and thus, expected to be able to resist the effects of inhebriation longer than me. Even if it was a false assumption, you still thought you could take advantage of it, which would be considered the same kind of cheating."
Grimmjow huffed in defeat and crossed his arms over his chest. He could never win against Ulquiorra, that was a given. And now he had to do whatever that freak wanted. What was he doing in that closet anyway? He should just get done with this crap already!
When the raven-haired male finally came back from his quest in the closet, he had a coat hanger in his hand. Grimmjow's eyes widened in horror. He took back every time he had complained about Ulquiorra being boring. He preferred a boring Ulquiorra. He would even be willing to give up some of the sex. Anything to avoid that thing.
"See, I had actually wanted to ask you about this for some time, but I had not found the right occasion. But now seems quite appropriate, since you can not refuse, does it not?"
Grimmjow swore he saw something akin to a devilish smirk draw itself on the dual colored lips.
And that's how he got here, to this horrible, horrible situation, staring at his own image on the mirror and hardly recognizing himself. Or rather, trying to convince himself that the person in the glass was definitely not him. He fixed the atrocious garment one last time and sighed in resignment, knowing he'd have to get out someday, or Ulquiorra might come looking for him. Grimmjow shuddered and finally stepped out of the room.
Ulquiorra Cifer was sitting on a chair, in front of his desk, which was, as always, covered in perfectly organized books and papers. His emerald eyes widened a bit when he saw the blue-eyed male coming out of the bathroom and actually wearing the "outfit".
Grimmjow blushed and looked away. He still couldn't believe Ulquiorra had made him wear this. These were girl's clothes. And they must be the worst girl's clothes ever. He was wearing high-heeled pointy black shoes, a tad too tiny for his masculine feet that made him want to cry. His legs were covered in black fishnet stockings that reached his upper thighs. The… dress was black, it was covered with frills and laces and it barely reached his knees. The sleeves were short and decorated with tight white ribbons at the end that made his muscles feel suffocated. The top part was shaped as a white corset with black laces and a bigger ribbon tied at his back. It had taken ages to figure out how to arrange all those laces and it had ended being too tight, now he had trouble breathing, and it made his manly body look a bit too feminine . The skirt had lots of white frills that made it plump and hard to walk in, and on top of it there was a small pristine white apron. He was also wearing elbow-length white silk gloves on his hands, a white frilly collar with a tiny black ribbon on his neck, and a white lacey headband.
Seriously, where on earth had Ulquiorra gotten a friggin' maid outfit?
Emerald eyes scanned over the costume-clad body with curiosity and increasing satisfaction at what he was seeing. It was much better than what Ulquiorra had imagined. He almost smiled. He was definitely going to make the most out of this.
Grimmjow fidgeted under the intense look he was receiving. Fucking pervert wouldn't take his freaky eyes off him. His face was already tinted beet red and his silk-clad hands were trying fruilesstly to pull the dress lower to cover his exposed legs. The room was damn cold!
"So, I'm wearing the fucking dress, now what? I've done what you wanted, when can I get out of this shit?"
Ulquiorra quirked an elegant eyebrow and rose from his chair, walking towards Grimmjow.
"What are you talking about? When you established the terms of the bet you did not specify a time limit. So you have to keep the outfit on for as long as I want."
Shit. Grimmjow knew that Ulquiorra always took words in their most literal way, which would usually end in the worst for him. Now he was stuck in the goddamned dress until the bastard wanted him to take it off? Grimmjow felt like crying.
"You shall not worry though," Ulquiorra said, as he reached Grimmjow's side and caressed his strong, masculine jaw with one hand, his other arm snaking around a tan neck, the ghost of a devilish smirk on his usually unexpressive face "I will help you out of it soon enough."
The End.
Holy hell, I can't believe it's been nearly a year since I wrote this. Anyway, it was lying there abanoned (along with all the shiz I wrote for the fanbook, which I will publish eventually, when I have time –Uni is sucking the life away from me) so I decided it was time to upload it, since it's been a while since I published anything (and I'm so busy I haven't written a word in MONTHS)
So I hope you like it, this one was inspired in a couple of fanarts that had Ulquiorra and Grimmjow dressed as maids, since it was usually Ulqui suffering I wanted to reverse the roles. Sorry for the clichè. And I don't drink at all, so I don't know shit about alcohol resistance, so I asked around with my drunktard friends and in the end decided tu just jumble random numbers. Do not try to imitate them, you will seriously actually DIE if you drink that much D:
All reviews are appreciated and I want to thank Tokyo Kitty since this was the first story she beta-read for me and she gave lots of advice and encouragement.