Impassion :: Broken and Crushed
Part II
What in the fucking name of hell was he thinking?!
Twin pools of muddy sapphire shifted from left to right, narrowed as they were, suspiciously checking his surroundings for signs of any presence. Nothing.
The muscular Arrancar's guarded posture relaxed as he finally stepped out from the shadows, a frown adorning his lips as his footsteps fell softly on the eggshell-white floor. There was only one door at the end of the hallway, and the gothic black number on it loomed at him even from a distance.
Why the heck was he here again?
Grimmjow gruffly ruffled his hair using his right hand – his only hand – casting an annoyed glance about before proceeding. He didn't want to be caught doing this shitty thing but…
The tanned hand was irately fisted.
He couldn't feel his spiritual pressure around and it bothered him to no end. No matter how much he tried to keep an aloof disposition about it, the nagging… thing… at some far corner of his mind wouldn't stop.
And so here he stands now. Five feet away from the concrete door; having a futile staring contest with the dark and gothic number embedded in the middle of it.
He'd told himself that he really didn't have to go inside and check – he had been a fucking Espada, god damn it! – he just needed to feel that cold bastard's spiritual pressure and then he could go back to his room in the tower of the Tres Cifras.
… And that was where his problems began.
Sapphire eyes steeled as he failed to perceive the Cuatro Espada's presence in the chamber. Canines were ground against each other as Grimmjow tried not to lose his cool…
So what if Ulquiorra wasn't in his quarters? There were literally a thousand other places in Las Noches that he could be at… It was also possible that Aizen (the asshole) had sent that suck up to some mission…
Tsch. It wasn't like he was worried.
The feeling of something resting on his abdomen startled the aqua-haired man, his eyes quickly darted towards that certain spot only to narrow once he'd realized that it was his own hand. His own hand, lightly tracing the edges of the scar on his front – yes, that scar. The one that still held traces of Cifer's spiritual pressure despite the almost two-week span since the Cuatro had given it to him.
Grimmjow hastily drew back his hand and stuffed it into the pocket of his hakama, turning his back on the door and setting his eyes forward with a glare. The unrolled left sleeve of his jacket quivered.
Fucking bitch.
Just look at what the fuck you've done to me.
"Your report is sufficient, Ulquiorra," Aizen Sousuke spoke sedately, looking down on his minion with an air of pleasantry that never did reach his chocolate eyes. "As expected. You may now return to your quarters, I shall call for you when it is time to put the plan into action."
"As you wish, Aizen-sama." The ebony-haired Espada spoke monotonously, head bowed and with his right hand over his left chest. Turning around, the lithe-figured Arrancar sharply walked out of the throne room, hands in his pockets and his indifferent mien never wavering as he passed through the endlessly white hallways – saying not a word to any Arrancar that happened to pass him by. Aizen's most recent task for him was rather tedious if he was to be honest but he knew he had no reason to complain. He was at the very least indebted to that man on the throne for giving him power, he didn't see why he shouldn't carry out the menial tasks set upon him.
He soon arrives at the West Wing of Las Noches, the area specified for the housing of Aizen's prized Espada – it was basically one long corridor with ten hallways, each branching off to an Espada's room. Silvery beams of moonlight shone upon him and he stops exactly at the fourth hallway, turning his face to find an empty hall leading to his chambers. But it is not empty as his vision perceives - he feels someone there. He is there. A ghost of a smile flickers on black and white lips as he resumes his walk, channeling his spiritual pressure as to alert his 'guest' of his arrival.
The door slides open before him and jade eyes take in the sight of the antechamber of his room – the blank ceiling and walls, the couch and table in the middle, and the two arcs leading to other compartments from each side. A small square window at the far end lights up half the room, showing a fabricated emptiness. He takes two full steps inside, keeping the door wide open behind him with half-lidded orbs staring straight ahead as he felt for his guest's location.
"You turn up and leave without saying a word," Ulquiorra speaks softly, green eyes bright as they shift towards his right where a shadowed figure had stilled – frozen at suddenly being addressed. The Espada turns to face the other as the concrete door slides shut – the sound of its impact echoing in the silent room - as intense sapphire eyes glared down at him.
"Do you have business with me, Privaron?" Ulquiorra asks, his tone sounding just the slightest bit implicative.
"'S nothin'," Grimmjow snaps back, keeping himself in the shadows as he shifts his gaze away, staring instead at a far corner of the ceiling.
"Why were you agitated?" the Cuatro Espada continues, lifting up his left hand and placing it upon the taller man's right shoulder. "Your spiritual pressure was quite disturbed… I felt it before entering the room…" Bright jade eyes stared at the handsome face as his hand gently guided the Privaron's figure to face him, setting the inferior Arrancar's back against the wall.
Grimmjow, for his part, kept his face turned away; stubbornly gazing at the ceiling despite the feeling of liquid jades boring holes into his face. "It's nothing, damn it." His voice carried resentment but his expression – and his lack of attempt to escape – served only to cancel it out.
"Hm."
Ulquiorra's silence gave a rather threatening air; the minute contraction of black-tipped fingers on his jacket was surely a warning that things were going to happen if he dared tested the man's patience.
With a huff, Grimmjow grudgingly muttered, "Some shit bags were claiming that they've acquired Aizen's Hougyoku and killed ya in the process… So I came to… ya know… confirm if the bullshit's true… If ya finally kicked the bucket and all…" (1)
Sapphire eyes met jades for a split second before he shifted his eyes to stare at the walls. After that brief eye contact, Ulquiorra sighed and shut his eyes, closing the gap between their bodies and resting his face on the crook of Grimmjow's neck and right shoulder.
"Aizen-sama has merely sent me on an errand, Grimmjow," the pale-skinned Espada murmured against the tanned skin. "… I should feel quite affronted that you thought some low-level Arrancars had been able to dispose of me…" he whispers, placing a kiss on the aqua-haired man's neck, just below the second set of jaw bones.
The fallen Espada made no response to that, merely gritting his teeth and keeping his eyes away from the slender figure nestled against his front. Ulquiorra's breaths were hot on his neck but he dared not do a thing.
Was he scared? His inner voice scoffed at the thought. Of course he fucking wasn't.
These things… the touches, the kisses… the sex… it didn't really mean anything to Ulquiorra… so it would make sense that he himself shouldn't put meanings into them as well. There were just… what? … Just some sort of… sort of…
"What are you thinking about?"
Ulquiorra's quiet voice (and the soft lips brushing against his right ear) snapped Grimmjow out of his thoughts. Blue eyes abruptly met the half-lidded jade ones that had been staring up at him for a good while now.
"Sorry," Grimmjow mumbled distractedly, turning his head to face his superior, ignoring the heat in his cheeks when he noticed the minimal proximity between their faces.
"I see." With that simple statement, the porcelain-faced Espada slowly withdrew, straightening his posture as he stood properly, drawing back his hands and securing them in his pockets. "You have seen what you have come for… Your departure is nagging is it not?"
"… Uh?"
Bright green eyes settled on the door and it slid open. "I have just come back from an assignment and I would wish to spend the rest of the night in quiet… You may leave…" With that, the Cuatro Espada turned about and headed into the arched doorway on the left side of the room; shadows enveloping his form the moment he crossed the border.
Grimmjow blinked. Twice. And he cursed under his breath as his mind helpfully supplied that he looked like an utter fool just about now.
Inside the bedchamber, Ulquiorra had taken to standing under the room's sole window, jade eyes looking up but not seeing the velvety deep blue sky littered with diamonds. He was listening… feeling… alert for any reaction that might come from the Arrancar that he had just left… assuming that Grimmjow would react in the first place. The fallen Espada had been awfully quiet.
And then, there it was… the ever-faint sound of the concrete door sliding shut… and the loss of Grimmjow's spiritual pressure.
Ulquiorra closed his eyes. So it was going to be like this…
"Just so you know…"
The ebony head snapped up as the Espada whipped around, startled at the voice of the man that he had assumed to have left. Instead, though, Grimmjow was leaning against the arched doorway, sapphire eyes glowing in the dark, though not quite looking at him, with the lightest sprinkling of red on his cheeks (from what he could see of the Privaron's silhouette, at least).
"I don't know what I would've done to those assholes if they actually managed to kill you off…"
The roughness in Grimmjow's voice cut through the thick silence and Ulquiorra allowed a smile to slip into his features as he crossed the room and stood a mere inch away from the tanned man.
"Well, I'm quite sure that you do know, Grimmjow…" jade eyes looked up and finally caught the sapphire blue orbs in his gaze.
"Tsch. You just have to know everything don't 'cha, wise ass…" the demoted Sexta grumbled, though his tone wasn't much annoyed. He doesn't even resist when pale hands pulled at his right arm.
Is it so sad to know that this would bring us nowhere?
The room was bathed in artificial light, the spotless walls and floors even appeared to shine. The four-cornered room wasn't big but it was compensated by its height, towering some thirteen feet or so; a long white bed served as its only furnishing which looked quite lonely sitting on one side of the windowless room.
A sheathed sword lays at the foot of the bed – it's handle and scabbard were both of a light blue color and it had a crooked 'S' for it's guard – and just above the weapon lay it's owner – eyes closed with a loose frown decorating his lips. The spiky aqua hair was down, framing the handsome face whose expression was rather relaxed. His head was turned to the left, exposing his right cheek and the jawbone attached to it. Anyone that would've dared peek in the room would surely assume that the Arrancar was asleep.
It had been at least two weeks since Grimmjow's last encounter with Ulquiorra – in both literary senses, if you will – and the Privaron was still mostly confused as to how things ended up as such. Last time he had thought things out normally – and boy had that been long – he hated Cifer and wanted to kick his ass to teach the retard a lesson. Now, though, his views in regard to Cifer's ass had gone into an entirely different perspective.
From the very beginning, he could easily say that he didn't like the Cuatro Espada. Ulquiorra was too obedient to Aizen and it didn't help that the pale man was too fucking reserved – silent as a mute and unwilling to shed more blood than necessary. Bullshit, all of it. Plus, even though it was really the man's nature to say things, Grimmjow felt that he had been called 'trash' just one too many times by this superior of his. Tsch. Superior. That sneaky son of a bitch had had him twice already, damn it.
… Cifer was a pretty good fuck, though.
Especially when things get intense. His sapphire eyes could never get enough of watching Ulquiorra's cold façade slowly break away, piece by piece… The high and mighty Espada willingly putting down his defenses and allowing the fervent desire to melt those captivating pools jade… for his eyes only. That, and the way that Ulquiorra has this possibility of going all-dominatrix on him, and he only gets even more excited when he feels it – the way that the prim and proper Arrancar would be overtaken by his own carnal desires.
A smirk tugged at Grimmjow's lips.
He couldn't exactly understand how things got from there (where he and Ulquiorra glared each other down at every chance they got) to here (the point when he would always, always find that shadow of a smile on the Cuatro's lips if they happened to pass each other). Sure they suddenly became fuck buddies and shit happened but damn it all he was created to fight in some god damned war and not so that he could resume having a sex life… He had even almost forgotten about the blind prick that cut off his left arm.
Blue eyes slowly opened as his lips formed a thin line. He had been using most of his time wrecking up the sparring room in the Tres Cifras tower, butchering a few low-life bastards along the way, but somehow things were just… different.
Three sharp knocks suddenly came from the door, startling the Privaron. Grimmjow sat up quickly, grabbing Pantera's handle as the door slowly opened. What it revealed only served to freeze the fallen Espada.
"Grimmjow," was the slender man's greeting as he stepped into the room, stopping right in front of the aforementioned Arrancar; jade eyes meeting with sapphires. The concrete door quietly closes behind him.
"The fuck are you doing here, Ulquiorra?" the Privaron asked brusquely, putting on an annoyed look.
"Aizen-sama has given me a new mission."
Grimmjow snorted. "So? Like I give a shit on what that bastard wants…"
"The destination is Karakura."
I'll have to admit… I am not entirely fond of how your eyes flare at the mention of that place.
Why do these assholes just keep popping up one after the other? The aqua-haired man couldn't help grumbling inwardly as he raises Pantera to strike the latest intruder. Damn it, the freak draws out his own fucking mask too. Tsch. Son of a bitch.
"Sorry Arrancar… You seem strong, so I can't take it easy on you…" (2)
Grimmjow's eyes widened with disbelief as the blond bastard suddenly shot a cero at him. It was coming fast…
A flash of light, a deafening explosion and a thick cloud of smoke erupted. His body was thrown to the ground, sustaining injuries both from hitting the pavement and from that asshole's attack. Blood oozed from various locations on his weathered body and it didn't help that his clothes were in tatters.
"Shit…" the aqua-haired Arrancar cussed, bent over on one knee as he breathed heavily. The taste of his own blood in his mouth disgusted him. "Damn it…"
"… You minimized the damage by hitting my cero with your own…"
He looks up to find that masked dickwad approaching. The man's tone irritated him. "Not bad…"
'Not bad?!' Why that fucking piece of shit –
"Fuck you…!" Grimmjow spat, raising his weapon. He'll show that stinking fuckface… "GRIND!"
The blonde man's eyes widened under his mask. 'Oh yeah, you better be scared, motherfucker…'
Before the Arrancar could even call out his sword's name, though, a pale hand gripped his own and a massive wave of spiritual pressure pushed down on him. Sapphire eyes dilated as he recognized the slender form that now stood beside him.
"Ulq… Ulquiorra!" the aqua-haired man growled as his eyes turned to the left to glare at his superior. What the fucking hell did that scrawny bitch want now? He was just about to release and mow down the little shitheads…
"Mission accomplished," the jade-eyed Espada stated simply, releasing his grip only when he saw that the Privaron wasn't going to disobey. "Let's go."
The light of Negación was cast upon the two, bringing them up towards the Hollow world.
The bloodied Arrancar lowered his sword with distaste, breathing heavily as he resorted to glaring down at the substitute soul reaper. He was so close to finally killing off the son a bitch.
"There are some traces of your spiritual pressure…" Ulquiorra muses out softly, green eyes impassively staring down at the orange-haired teen. "It seems that you have acquired a new power… but is that the extent of it?"
Kurosaki Ichigo could only fume as Aizen's minions entered the Garganta, both turning their backs on him as their means of transport closes in.
Grimmjow roughly sheathes Pantera, muttering a few choice curses as he glares at the dark void which was the Garganta.
"Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra's quiet voice cuts though the sounds of the torrential energy all around them.
Sapphire eyes pointedly looked to the side, pale blue brows furrowing as he felt the smaller man approach.
"I was about to fucking kill them all, you know." The Privaron mutters, huffing as he finally met the wide jade eyes staring at him. "You could've just let me release, I can butcher those stinking reapers in one blow." When Ulquiorra remained quiet, the injured Arrancar's expression turned into one of ire. "The fuck are you looking at me like that for? Damn it Ulquiorra I could totally murder those dicks in a split second, if you'd only kept away from me for one fucking sec–!"
"Grimmjow…" pale hands settle on the bloodstained cheek and over the hollow remnants on the other. He steps closer and gently pulls down the tanned man's face, looking eye to eye with the inferior Arrancar. "I do not doubt that you could dispose of the substitute reaper. That is why I tipped you off of this mission. But I did not expect the appearance of his masked ally, the blonde one which you were fighting off last. His powers greatly differ from the substitute reaper's, he is the reason why I have stopped you."
"You think that motherfucker's stronger than me?!" sapphire eyes flared as Grimmjow revealed his canines.
"Given your current state, I must say 'yes'." The Cuatro Espada replies easily, unfazed by the imminent rage shown by the other at his answer. "You know that yourself, do you not? Even the substitute reaper's abilities have grown… much differently than either of us had expected. You even got badly wounded from your fight…" Slender fingers unhurriedly traveled down from the bone fragment towards the aqua-haired man's exposed chest, the porcelain skin tainted by crimson liquid as he settled his palm on the muscular front.
"The fight wasn't over yet when you came around, smartass!" Grimmjow snarled, grabbing the shorter man by the collar of his jacket, pulling the latter closer until their noses almost touched.
"The masked blonde would have stopped you if you tried to assault the substitute… He had yet to release his sword and his cero already brought you such damage…" Ulquiorra pointed out coolly.
The Privaron's knuckles were turning white as the force of his grip was almost enough to tear the fabric of his superior's jacket. In the end, though, Grimmjow only gave a huff before removing his hold on the pale-skinned man.
"I really fucking want to kill you right now, you know that?" Pantera's wielder seethed, running his hand through spiky aqua locks of hair.
"Then why aren't you attacking?" the ebony-haired Espada asked, the thumb of his left hand against brushing away the dried blood from Grimmjow's lips.
Bright blue eyes stared down at the porcelain face and the delicate expression on it.
Because I can't… Because I don't want to… Because things are different now.
The white concrete door slid shut at the medic's departure and Ulquiorra stepped away from the wall, his footsteps echoing minutely in the silent room as he moves to stand before the Privaron who sat on the bed's edge. The latter had disposed of his tattered uniform and had put on a fresh hakama, his upper body bare save for the bandages that encircled his chest and abdomen, tied securely over his right shoulder.
"Well?" Grimmjow snapped as he met his superior's eyes. The cold façade wasn't there anymore, he noted.
"You should rest, there is still roughly ten and a half hours before Aizen-sama will call for us…" Ulquiorra states quietly.
The wounded Arrancar further leans on his right arm, turning his head towards the headboard of the bed. "Do I still have to attend that?"
"Aizen-sama has ordered for everyone involved with the mission–"
"Fine, fine, I get it…" the sapphire-eyed man butted in. "Meeting in the throne room at midnight… whatever."
Silence lapsed between the two for a good whole minute until the Cuatro Espada decides to break it.
"…Should I take my leave?" Ulquiorra queries, hands in his pockets with his face lightly turned towards the door, which was on his left.
Grimmjow turns to face him and there is another momentary silence as they stare at each other.
"I'll take that as a yes," the superior Arrancar finally speaks and he begins take a step away when a tanned hand closes in on his wrist. Ulquiorra looks at the muscular man with a brow slightly raised in question.
"Never said I minded you stayin'…" Grimmjow mutters, brows scrunched up as though he himself was against saying this aloud.
Black and white lips lighted up, hinting a smile.
The aqua-haired Arrancar laid back on the mattress and shifts to give space for the other to occupy. The bed was just large enough to accommodate the two, who both ended up lying on their sides facing each other – the Privaron resting on his left and the Espada on his right, such that their bone fragments weren't put under any pressure. Grimmjow was avoiding eye contact but there was only so much to look at when another person's face was a mere five inches away. Eventually, a soft palm landed on the jawbone on his right cheek and the sapphire orbs finally landed on the porcelain face across him.
"You appear to be very agitated," Ulquiorra points out, his features gentle as his fingers glide across the bone fragment on the other's cheek. "Take it easy, Grimmjow…"
"Easy for you to say, you ain't the one injured…" mumbles the muscular man.
"Then why don't you lie on your back?"
At this, Grimmjow only gazes away and Ulquiorra gently turns the other man towards a lying position. Sapphire eyes still refused eye contact.
Sighing, the Espada eradicates the space between them and rests his chin on the tanned man's left shoulder which was untouched by the bandages; draping his arm across the latter's chest in the process.
The aqua-haired man is frozen at his superior's move. It was just so… unusual… unexpected… uncalled-for. He takes a peek and is stunned as he finds Ulquiorra's eyes shut with his lips set in an easy line, almost as if he was sleeping. Strands of ebony hair lay upon the porcelain features, flowing from underneath the bone helm that encased the left side of the Espada's head. But before he knew what he was doing, Grimmjow found his right hand half-way towards Ulquiorra's face and he stopped himself just in time, pulling back his hand and fisting it on the bed sheets.
As his eyes travel downward, Grimmjow notices the other's palm on his chest. He frowns, muses quietly for a few seconds before finally giving in and taking hold of it – his rough fingertips brushing against the smooth skin, placing his thumb just under the palm and squeezing the hand ever so slightly.
"I did tell you to rest, didn't I?"
The murmur of Ulquiorra's voice startled the fallen Espada who had hastily tried to pull his hand away but was too late as his superior had already returned his hold. Grimmjow faced the slender Arrancar only to find that jade eyes were half-opened and staring right at him.
"Ah–I–"
"Hush," the smaller man whispered, "Just rest…" With that, he placed a kiss on Grimmjow's shoulder and nestled closer, keeping hold of the inferior one's hand.
The aqua-haired Arrancar gazed at the other for a few more moments, feeling a shiver go down his spine as the spot where the dual-hued lips landed on his skin seemed to burn up. Letting out a deep breath, Grimmjow turned his head to look up at the ceiling…
'God damn it…' was the man's last thought before he finally closed his eyes, once again gripping the pale hand on his chest.
We're pulling each other down in our fall…
"Sorry to be so forward, Orihime," Aizen's cool voice fills the silent throne room that night. "But would you show us your power?"
"…Yes… sir…" the auburn-haired woman replies shakily.
"Now then, in order to directly demonstrate your power," the renegade captain continued, sharp eyes falling pointedly on one aqua-haired Arrancar. "Please heal Grimmjow's left arm."
The aforementioned man froze; the look of utter disinterest on his face a while ago had turned into one of shock.
"Ridiculous!" the current Sexta, Luppi, exclaimed. He continued to rant but nobody paid attention. Ulquiorra was sure that his own eyes glued onto the Privaron; forcibly keeping his expression neutral as a foreboding feeling enveloped his figure.
The human girl moved to stand beside the dismembered Arrancar, softly calling out, "Souten Kishun… I reject." A translucent convex that glowed a bright orange solidified under the mortal's hands as she placed them over Grimmjow's non-existent left arm.
Trepadora's wielder is boisterous in the background; it was hard to think that he was actually injured with all the noise that he made. And all of a sudden he stopped. Everyone seemed to have stopped. Immobilized with shock as they watched with their own eyes as Grimmjow's left arm was recreated, appearing out of thin air and looking as though it had never been lost in the first place.
"H-How did…!" the effeminate Espada stammered with a look of utter incredulity on his face.
Aizen Sousuke merely smiled. "Do you not understand?" he asks the current Sexta, the edge of his lips only quirking up when Luppi turned his eyes away. "Ulquiorra, you saw this as 'temporal regression' or 'spatial regression'…"
Slightly startled as being called, Ulquiorra faced the Soul Reaper, taking care to appear passive. "Yes sir…" he replied monotonously.
"No way…" the lilac-eyed Espada was visibly shaking, eyes wide as they stared most disbelievingly at the human amongst them.
The Ex-Fifth Division Captain chose to ignore the shaken Arrancar's words. "Correct, but this is neither of those… This is… the rejection of events. It is a power… that surpasses into God's territory."
The weight of the brunet's words obviously dealt a mighty blow towards the effeminate Espada, Ulquiorra felt the Arrancar's spiritual pressure fluctuate drastically just then… but jade green eyes were focused elsewhere. Elsewhere being a certain muscular man standing a few feet away from him – said man had an almost musing look upon his features as he raised his newly restored arm, flicking back his wrist.
"Hey girl," Grimmjow's gruff voice resounds lowly and Ulquiorra will not deny that he had clenched his jaw tight once the woman approached the former Espada. "Fix up one more spot." Grimmjow orders, jerking his left hand towards his back, pertaining to the burnt off mark on his right hip that had once been a gothic number six.
The woman complies and if it wasn't for his self-imposed apathy, it wouldn't be just Luppi who would've reacted as the burnt skin appeared to heal – revealing once more the bold and telling tattoo on the small of the aqua-haired man's back.
"What are you planning Grimmjow?" Luppi's tone was that of a threat but as Grimmjow turned around with his signature grin on his lips, Ulquiorra chose to close his eyes.
"Yeah?" Grimmjow's voice is smug. Sapphire orbs are aflame once again. The spiritual pressure would've choked the Cuatro had he not been prepared.
And there it was. That gruesome sound accompanies the copper smell that fills the room all of a sudden.
"Gri-Grimmjow…" a pained voice rasps. "You son of a…"
"That's how it goes," Grimmjow's smirk could be heard in the arrogant tone that his voice took. "Later. Former Mister Six."
The expected blast came not a moment too late and almost maniacal laughter comes out from the reinstated Sexta Espada.
"My power is back! I am Number Six!" Grimmjow shouts with an almost hysterical tune. "It's Sexta Espada, Grimmjow!"
Aizen says nothing as the throne room is filled with seemingly intoxicated laughter.
They are soon dismissed, the extra task of taking the woman to her room was assigned to Ulquiorra and he took to it rather perfunctorily. The mortal appeared to be disturbed and the Espada could've snorted at her but he maintained his silence.
"Stay here quietly," Ulquiorra states robotically, stopping in front of an empty chamber that Aizen had designated for their 'guest'.
The auburn-haired girl mutely nods and steps inside, the door shuts behind her and Ulquiorra walks away.
Grimmjow was an Espada once again… things were… going to go back to normal.
Whatever that 'normal' is.
The ebony-haired Espada takes his time walking towards the West Wing, he didn't have to hurry. There was nothing – no one – for him to make haste for.
It wasn't by choice that he entered the West Wing from the opposite end. It just happened that that route was nearer from where he came from. He passed Yammy's quarters first, ignoring the loud snores coming from inside it and continued on his way in a leisurely pace, hands kept inside his pockets.
The rest of the hallway was silent. That was until a figure stepped out from the shadows, and the Cuatro Espada would be lying if he said that he wasn't the least bit surprised.
Gleaming sapphire eyes stared at him almost tauntingly as the muscular figure of Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez moved to block his path. The much too wide grin on his lips didn't falter as the shorter Arrancar regarded him coldly.
Ulquiorra halted and looked Grimmjow in the eyes but his lips remained pursed – not a sound escaping him and with only the rigid expression in his eyes to show his sentiments.
The reinstated Sexta raised a brow. What the hell was Ulquiorra looking so pissed at him for? His grin melted into a frown as he contemplated on what to say. To be frank, Grimmjow had been waiting for the Cuatro's return, thinking about finally carrying out those vivid fantasies his mind had been providing him for the past couple of days. But seeing that most hating look on the porcelain face made him pause… What the hell…?
Seeing that the taller man wasn't about to say anything, Ulquiorra broke eye contact and resumed his walk. He had barely taken a step past the other man Grimmjow's left hand grabbed him by his elbow.
"Oi!" the aqua-haired Espada called, glaring at his superior from the corner of his eyes. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"
Jade eyes didn't bother to meet with the sapphire pair, his gaze fell on his left arm where Grimmjow's hand was holding him back – the hand that was non-existent until a few minutes ago, the one that made its most unwelcome return. Ulquiorra could feel an unusual heat filling his chest, burning him from the inside out. It wasn't pleasant and even though it wasn't in his character, Ulquiorra felt at ease in blaming that blasted heat for the irritation that enveloped him. He felt angry. And he felt even angrier at the fact that he didn't know why he was so angry. Being in Grimmjow's presence only served to worsen his situation.
"Damn it, Ulquiorra." Grimmjow cussed, tugging the pale-skinned Espada so that they were face to face. "What gives?"
Cifer allowed himself to be pulled back. He didn't know why, when he could've so easily maintained his ground; he just let it. His lips were set on a very thin line, glass-like green eyes finally setting upon the inferior Arrancar's face. Grimmjow appeared to be put-off. Ch. That was nothing.
Sapphire pools were looking at him with resentment.
…Oh right, he had been asked a question…
"What do you want, Gr-" the dark-haired Espada found his jaw clenching. He didn't understand but he suddenly found himself unable to stomach calling the other man by name. "Sexta?"
He spit out the title. Ulquiorra was certain of that. The ranking felt like poison in his mouth; distasteful, sickening.
Grimmjow was startled for a second, his grip on Ulquiorra's arm falling loose. Ice cold fury met his gaze and he had no clue as to why Ulquiorra was being like this. Weren't they…
Oh. Yeah. They weren't. God damn.
The muscular Espada steeled his expression, shoving his left hand into the pocket of his hakama. Well if things were going to be like this…
Pale blue brows furrowed and Grimmjow huffed, putting on a sneer. "Now don't tell me you've already forgotten our little agreement?" he asked in a snide tone, stepping forward and minimizing the gap between him and the shorter Espada.
Ulquiorra's bright eyes kept eye-contact despite the fact that he had to tilt his head up to do so. His face remained expressionless as he decoded the other man's insinuation. Nothing changed much in his mien when he finally recalled, Ulquiorra merely shifted his gaze towards the hallway on his right which led exactly towards the Sexta's chambers.
"If you must…"
I don't understand… I still want you.
Half-lidded jade eyes watched as Grimmjow thrust in and out of him – hard and rough. Dual-hued lips parted as he allowed his moans and gasps to fill the air. A muscular body hovered closer above him as calloused hands pinned him down by the waist.
Grimmjow's lips ravaged the porcelain skin; showering the Cuatro's exposed front with bites and kisses – none of which lasted very long as their inherent hierro played its role. Ulquiorra was very tight but the pain from it only caused more pleasure to pump into his system. At last, he found himself overpowering his superior – it didn't matter that Ulquiorra submitted to him, it was all the same in the end. Canines puncture the milky skin and a muffled gasp follows as the slender body underneath him arch up. The Sexta's movements turn erratic as he catches a taste of blood before the wound closed up; he licks up the spot before starting a fresh trail across the other man's neck.
Black-tipped fingers are close to shredding the pristine bed sheets. And as much as Ulquiorra had resolved to be as mute as he can get, Murcielago's wielder found that thought to be simply impossible. Not when it was about Grimmjow. Hazy green eyes slide shut as a pair of lips find their way to his hollow hole, nipping at the rim. And then a wet tongue slides inside and Ulquiorra finds himself clutching the inferior Espada, pulling the man closer, deeper… sinking his nails into the sweaty, tanned skin. He does not feel the strain in his bottom end… nothing registers of the carving heat inside his chest because yes, he wants this.
Grimmjow is startled. Ulquiorra had so far not touched him in their current encounter but now it was the slender man pulling their bodies flush against each other. The Sexta raises himself and meets with a sultry gaze and his breath is abruptly caught.
And he just stares because something in those jade eyes just seem wrong to him. He sees pain and something breaks inside his system. A tanned hand is raised, cupping the flushed cheek as Grimmjow pushes himself up, leveling with the porcelain face underneath him.
"Ulquiorra," he breathes and he almost cringes at how the eyes staring at him seem to widen and fill with aching. "I don't understand you…"
"You don't have to," the ebony-haired man murmurs, "Just… ah… finish this…"
And as though to emphasize his words, Ulquiorra lowered himself further, pushing the Sexta's member deeper into him; their gazes remain locked even as they spiral into their climaxes.
Chests rise and fall rapidly. Body fluids varnish their heated skin as Grimmjow lowers his face, undeterred by the look of alarm that rises in the Cuatro's eyes. His lips linger dangerously close over Ulquiorra's as he uses his thumb to caress the man's smooth cheek.
"What does all of this mean to you, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow finally asks; a hair's breadth away from actually connecting when a loud clap resounded in the room. And his view is suddenly filled with the image of an immaculate wall; a stinging feeling erupting on his left cheek.
Soft pants resound in his ear and Grimmjow slowly turns his face, finding a most unusual flustered expression on his superior's mien; the guilty hand was still raised in the air.
"Don't even think of going there…" Ulquiorra speaks in subdued tones, a surprising strength backing up his words.
Pale blue brows crease and Grimmjow sharply withdraws; moving to half-lay on the unoccupied portion of his bed wearing a scowl, both hands fisted.
"And what the fuck was that just now, Ulquiorra?" Pantera's wielder snarled, fixing the other Espada with a piercing glare.
"Just don't go there and we won't have any problems," was the smaller man's cryptic reply, right hand resting over the gothic tattoo on his chest.
And Grimmjow, being Grimmjow, really can't just accept that as is. He sits up, sets his hands over both sides of Ulquiorra's head and leans further on his elbows.
"Stop acting like a bitch and answer me properly!" Grimmjow spat. "We've fucked around and now you're stopping me from what? Taking a kiss? What the heck?!"
Ulquiorra's lips thinned and he breathed deeply. "I… You wouldn't–"
"Oh god damn it, Ulquiorra, I am fucking sick of you!"
Green eyes dilate as the slender Arrancar's statement is interrupted.
"Do you have any idea of how frustrating it is, dealing with your shit?" Grimmjow explodes, shouting despite that his partner was only a foot away. "I can't understand you and it's driving me crazy! I hate you and I hate that you fucking keep on looking down at me like trash! Oh wait – you DO see me as trash, you little bitch! Then WHY do you have to fucking come into my life like this? Why did you have to impose your stinking existence into my life so freaking much that I'll grow insane if I don't even know where you are at every hour of the day? Why do I have to lose myself over you? Why are we even consenting to fucking each other senseless?! If this is just another one of Aizen's damned mind games then I don't fucking want anything to–!"
"I want you." Ulquiorra states simply, quietly… sincerely.
And Grimmjow's ranting stops, his breaths are heavy and his glare is still there.
Pale hands rise to grasp the Sexta by the cheeks; gently, carefully, as if it was a ticking bomb that might explode at any moment. Sadness reflect in his steady gaze as he lowers the muscular man so that his pale face is covered by the other's shadow.
"I want you, Grimmjow. I want you so much." The jade-eyed man speaks almost bitterly. "You ought to know that you're not the only one losing his sanity here… and Aizen has nothing to do with this, I doubt that he would even bother."
The superior Espada's calm seem to be washing over Grimmjow as his frown is now only minimal as he listens to the other's explanation.
Willowy fingers caress the troubled face, the left hand eventually travelling to rake through the disheveled locks of electric blue hair.
"I want you, Grimmjow," the pale one repeats; louder, assuring. "And I could care less of the trivialities as long as I have you… as long as you're here… as long as you're with me." Dual-toned lips settle on the exposed left cheek. "But we just can't cross certain boundaries so easily…" he breathes into the other man's ear. "We are cold-blooded killers… heartless murderers… slaughterers of the innocent…" He pauses, closing his eyes as though it would somehow lessen the pain.
"And this is lust."
And, really, that's all that we can ever have.
A/N: I'm updating this MORE THAN ONE FREAKING MONTH after the day I promised. Crap. Please accept my humble apology… which is in the form of underdeveloped smut. I'm currently failing at life, so I'm very, very sorry.
Yes I am aware that Ulquiorra appears to love seeing Grimmjow bloodied a little too much… I've tried researching what it's called (the excessive love for blood thing) and what I initially discovered was the word 'hematophagous' which means consuming blood… and I instantly thought of vampire bats (bats = Murcielago, ;D). But apparently, there's also the word 'hematolagnia' and maybe you can just look it up in urbandictionary since I don't quite have that guts to share it here directly.
For an authoress that claims that smut shouldn't be everything in a story… This story has all the smut I can ever try to write… All I can defend myself with is that that's the only way that I can find for (sorta) canon Grimmjow and Ulquiorra to express their… uh… feelings. Because I just get this inclination that the normal things couples to do can't be expected with GrimmUlqui since they've been created to kill or be killed. And Ulquiorra doesn't even recognize emotion so much with his whole what-the-fucking-hell-is-heart dialogues in the manga/anime… but Ulquiorra at least has that foresight that things can never end well so he sets his limits, very frail though they are. Grimmjow is an intelligent character, his mind works the right way but he's very prideful and that's what's gonna ruin this relationship.
I imagine Ulquiorra (with his Nihilistic aspect) having finally found the ONE thing that matters most to him and that one thing – Grimmjow – happens to have issues. Issues concerning acknowledgement of his own powers; Grimmjow's got that 'I'll prove to you I'm the best' thing going around while Ulquiorra's just 'Why do you still need THEIR opinion when I'M HERE? Am I not enough'… (uber lame, I know, sorry)
Those are just my opinion, though… :)
School's gonna let out soon… let's keep positive. And yay for fanfic updates in the middle of the night!! xD -still has school tomorrow - er, LATER at 8:30 am-
(Notes:)
(1) The first part, I recalled having watched in the anime… Where some Arrancars tried to steal the Hougyoku and killed this KyoukaSuigetsu!Ulquiorra before trying to invade Karakura… I know it's a filler episode but the setting kinda appealed to me since it happened after Grimmjow lost his arm and before Inoue was taken to Las Noches… It's a pretty good segue. :)
(2) Quoted from Hirako Shinji, vol 27 of the manga. I thought it'd be tedious to write up the whole 'invasion' thing so I skipped most of it and went straight to the vital part. I hope nobody minded that… Ulquiorra has quite a monologue at the end there, too, but I took the liberty of cutting out the 'sun has set' part… That's where I start my fiction….