Chapter 8

"G-Grimmjow," panted Ulquiorra, his left arm thrown over his eyes in an attempt to make sense of the pleasure wreaking havoc on his body, but to no avail. "Ah!" Ulquiorra let out another one of those sounds he knew Grimmjow just loved.

So, needless to say, Ulquiorra had finally managed to get Grimmjow to suck him off. Not without promises of retaliation on Grimmjow's part, but that hardly concerned him at the present time. He was far too busy wondering if it was possible for his head to fall off from sheer pleasure.

Grimmjow sucked harshly, taking Ulquiorra's entire member into his mouth and hearing Ulquiorra gasp audibly. He trembled under his touch.

Thank God I'm lying down or I would not have feeling in my legs for quite some time, Ulquiorra managed to fleetingly think before all thoughts were again dissolved when Grimmjow grazed his teeth on the underside of his cock. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,

"Later, babe," Grimmjow murmured around him. I must stop speaking out of turn.

"I like it," Grimmjow said, smirking and swallowing around him, which of course had Ulquiorra throwing his head back and finally releasing in Grimmjow's mouth. He lay on the bed, panting harder than before and desperately trying to focus his eyes, to no avail. His vision blurred and then shook. He closed his eyes to stop from becoming to dizzy.

"You can't think in your head when you're like that, can you," Grimmjow said with a self-satisfied grin, moving to lie back next to Ulquiorra. He would have glared if he could really see right then.

"Do not start with me," Ulquiorra panted out. He finally opened his eyes to a stable world and looked over at Grimmjow. "Why is your hair so mussed?" He could not recall even touching Grimmjow's head.

Grimmjow looked at him flatly. "Because your tail had a pretty good grip on it the whole fucking time."

Ulquiorra blinked and looked down to his tail, waving slowly across the bed in a manner befitting a pleased dog, clutching strands of sky blue hair in a death grip. He resented the resemblance to a dog and put some effort into stopping it.

"You were not complaining," Ulquiorra shrugged. He flicked a stray strand of his hair out of his face. He supposed it would be sweaty and sticking to his forehead were he human, but demons did not sweat.

"It'd be pretty useless anyways. You were moaning so loud ya couldn't a heard me anyhow," he said with a wider grin. Ulquiorra had a strange mental picture of Grimmjow's grin going right off his face. Comical, really, but also somewhat disturbing.

I'm quite scatterbrained as of late.

As Grimmjow made no comment to his thought he assumed he was now in control of his inner monologue again.

"Your tongue has a strange texture to it. Quite rough," he commented.

"Yea, dunno why though." He shrugged wrapped an arm under Ulquiorra to pull him closer. Ulquiorra let him with no objections. The closer the better.

"Hey, Ulqui," Grimmjow called him back out of his mind. Ulquiorra responded with a soft humming noise to acknowledge him. "How long 'til that other demon gets here? That Nenely, er, Neelelil, um…"

"Neliel," Ulquiorra supplied. "She's quite fast, faster than me perhaps, so not too long. Depending on terrain and her determination, I'd say two to five days if this is her destination."

Grimmjow nodded. Ulquiorra studied his face and found hints of worry. He sighed tiredly.

"There is no use agonizing over it right now," Ulquiorra said, flicking his ear. Grimmjow winced and Ulquiorra tried to stifle a chuckle. Oops, left side.

"Come on, we've got shit to do." He threw the covers off of himself and got up, stretching and giving Ulquiorra a much appreciated view of his entire backside. Ulquiorra felt his forked tongue slither out and trace his lips suggestively. Yum.

"Of course," Ulquiorra said, following suit.

Grimmjow had decided to forgo a shirt and wore a pair of ripped jeans. And that was it. No shirt, socks, underwear…

Ulquiorra stared at Grimmjow for a good minute and a half before finally dressing himself, putting on his own jeans and decided to mimic Grimmjow. No shirt, no socks, no underwear.

Let the games begin.

Grimmjow walked ahead of Ulquiorra and headed out of the house to get a bit of air. When he walked out, he looked back at Ulquiorra, still in the porch, and the demon almost fainted at the sheer sight.

Grimmjow was framed by the morning light, giving the allusion of a halo around his head, making the blue seem all the more contrasting and sensual. His bronzed skin seemed to glow with an ethereal light and his strong, defined build seemed even more pronounced. And his eyes. Ulquiorra shivered. His eyes held a light all their own, staring at him in an intense, passionate way that made him want to drop to his knees and offer his soul. Like the devil and an angel. Seductive and deadly, strong and beautiful. He could feel his knees shaking, ready to buckle at a moment's hesitation.

Far too entirely lovely for me.

Ulquiorra couldn't move. He vaguely recalled later that he may not have even tried. Vaguely because everything was vague and unimportant in that moment. Only he could garner attention, only he existed in all.

Ulquiorra lifted one of his claws to eye level, looking intently at it before back at Grimmjow. The difference was immeasurable. Grimmjow had been gifted by God, and he was damned by Him. It aggravated him-no. It infuriated him. Why should he suffer? Why must he be the one to eternally roam soulless in his pointless existence?

His claw clenched into a fist and it began to shake slightly. Unable to hold in his rage, he thrust his fist into the nearest window, never moving another part of his body, his face unchanging. The sound made from the glass was ear splitting. Pieces flew in every direction away from his fist.

But it was worse still. The light reflected off the shards and danced across Grimmjow's skin, allowing his skin to shine brighter. Ulquiorra felt as though he were in the presence of an angel who, with all his beauty, could only bring sorrow to he who could never attain him.

He was no devil, could never be demonic. He was too good, too pure. His very presence washed over Ulquiorra like a soothing breath of wind, cleansing him but torturing him, for he could only ever try to remain in his mystical air, and could never have any peace of his own. Like a leech, clinging to another life to take as much as it can. It can only ever take, it can never give.

Grimmjow was staring at him in such a strange light. As though to say he understood. His eyes travelled to Ulquiorra's hand.

"You don't really seem the type to have a flare for the dramatic," Grimmjow commented lightly. Ulquiorra always wondered how Grimmjow's words could seem so light-hearted and yet carry so much weight. Even such a simple statement had meanings hidden deep within, and while Ulquiorra could realise this, he could not discern the meanings and it frustrated him. "Suppose we'll need to fix that now," he sighed, probably meaning the window. However, something in his eyes had Ulquiorra wondering how many meanings that one sentence held. Fix what? The window? His hand?

My heart?

But he just didn't know.

"Is there anyone in town that can do such a thing?" Ulquiorra inquired. He had to put these thoughts out of his head lest he lose his mind for good.

"I can. But I need the right materials. Kisuke has 'em."

Ulquiorra thought back to the hardware store. "I was unaware he sold things such as that." Grimmjow smirked a bit and Ulquiorra knew that, for the moment, the tortured emotions and questions unanswered behind his mutilation of the window had been pushed back temporarily. They would move onto lighter topics and more pleasant thoughts until it would inevitable come up again, and it would. Perhaps it would be remembered when Ulquiorra once again enacted his anger in such a way or when Grimmjow had another moment when he looked into Ulquiorra and saw all he had to offer.

No, it was not over. But Ulquiorra wanted to keep it at bay for as long as possible. He was not ready to deal with it yet, the ever-present emptiness that had only begun to dissipate. And the sorrow replacing it in those brief moments of clarity when he would, inevitably, realise that Grimmjow and him may never truly have a chance.

Can I ever be redeemed?

"He's sorta like the guy everyone goes to of they need somethin' ya can't get nowhere else," Grimmjow shrugged. He lost his look of nonchalance when his eyes again landed on Ulquiorra's hand.

He is as tortured by this as I am. The realization was not terribly out of place, he had already known it. It was just a reinstatement, but it was so clear Ulquiorra could almost feel it in his heart.

If I still have one.

"Why do we tiptoe around each other like this?" Ulquiorra voiced, almost without meaning to. It was a question that had to be asked, but one he was reluctant to hear the answer for.

Grimmjow seemed to be at a loss for words as he stared hard into Ulquiorra's eyes.

"We never really say what is troubling us, or even on our minds. Can we not be honest?"

Grimmjow's gaze hardened to the point Ulquiorra thought they truly resembled sapphires, blue and beautiful and most definitely a stone.

"Because I'll regret my decision to let you live," Grimmjow stated coldly. "I regret it, of course, but never so much as I do when we're being honest." He scowled and looked away, his hands now balled into fists. "What else you could be honest with me about, I sometimes wonder. The long, nightmarish lives of so many victims that you've inexplicably caused. All the blood on your hands; I could probably swim in a pool of it!" His breathing was heavy again and the air was so still Ulquiorra wondered if the world had stopped, in that moment, just for the two of them. Why this moment, though? Was it any more important than the night they'd spent together? Than when Grimmjow had tried to kill him? Why would the world be still now?

"But I don't want to think about it, because if I do, I'll go crazy circling it around and around in my head. Just circling and circling until I come back to the same end, which is to kill you, but I pass by it again, just to circle back later. But I stall because I don't want to kill you! I don't want to admit that there's no hope! I can't, not yet." Grimmjow had moved to stand directly before Ulquiorra and his hands cupped his pale cheeks. "I can't," he said, so much softer. "I love you, and even if that's selfish, I'll hold onto that until I can't anymore. I will hold onto that with every last fibre in my body, with everything I am, I will hold onto that I love you, that I can be with you, that I can save you." Grimmjow kissed his forehead and Ulquiorra closed his eyes in silent, agonizing, sorrowful bliss. "Until my life ends, I'll hold on. And if my life should end, I will kill you. Because my life will end when there is no more hope for us." Grimmjow continued in that beautiful, soft voice.

I hope, I pray, I love. Ulquiorra raised his hand, the one he'd used to shatter the window, and rid Grimmjow's angelic face of that one stray tear. Perhaps I am not so demonic, either.

XXX

Neliel ran at a breakneck pace through the wide sloping hills, the new grass blowing, fresh from winter's frost and green as her hair. The sky above was blue as she didn't know what and interims of brown and red flew by on the ground as she pounded her hoofs further and further, determined to get to her destination.

She was enjoying herself with all the beauty of nature around her. And not one single damn white thing in sight but fir the clouds and they could be described as greys and pleasant whites, not the blank, dull ones she'd become used to.

She was free.

Free.

She slowed to a stop, standing in the middle of nowhere with no real plan. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze drift over her skin, her hair dancing wildly in the wind. She hadn't been so happy in a long time. Her coloured self had resurfaced; the white had no more bearing on her.

Nnoitra… Neliel's heart ached at the thought of him. She hated to admit it, but she was longing for him desperately. To be so far away from him was taking its toll on her. She grimaced. She should not have missed the mental and physical abuse, and she did not. She missed him. Nnoitra, the man she'd fallen in love with so deeply before.

"Nelly!" The voice drifted across the yard easily. She sighed. She'd never get him to stop using that ridiculous name. She would admit though, she didn't mind it coming from him.

"I'm over here, Nnoitra!" she called back, her face falling into a fitting smile. He always had this effect on her. He came into view, coming over the hill and smiling at her as she sat, playing idly with the wild flowers.

"Been lookin' everywhere for ya, babe," he said, plopping down next to her. "What cha doin?"

"I like these flowers. I thought I'd pick some and liven up the dreary manor," she explained, placing a bright red flower in her ever growing bouquet. "White gets tiresome."

"Yea, it can drive a person crazy," Nnoitra chuckled, lying back on the grass and closing his eyes, letting the moonlight wash over him. Demons far preferred the night, finding it more soothing. Neliel frowned slightly when she looked upon Nnoitra to see the moon had bleached him out quite drastically. She had an eerie feeling, as though that dead colour would envelop him and bleach him forever of what defined him from the white world. Like a terrible premonition of an impending disaster that would change Nnoitra into the illuminated figure before her painted so starkly in white.

She quickly turned away. No need to think such nonsensical things.

Nnoitra and her had mated not a week ago, and she was surprised how comfortable she felt about the whole ordeal. She'd have expected it to take some adjusting time, but she needed none. She fell into the role of mate perfectly with Nnoitra there for her every step of the way. He was so good to her, always taking care of her. Even now, he'd come looking for her when he'd felt her inner turmoil. She adored the mate bond with him, as it solidified that special unique love between them and allowed them access to the others emotions and love.

But her turmoil was not something he could really help her with. Not he nor anyone could truly alleviate the problem.

"Nnoitra," she said, her voice troubled. Nnoitra cracked an eye open to stare at her inquisitively. "You don't think it will, do you?" she asked, twirling the red flower around in one hand and a white in the other. "Drive us crazy, I mean. We're always on the brink of losing our sanity, we fight all the 's easier for some, I suppose, but what if one of us loses?"

"Aw babe, you're thinking too much," he laughed. "We all have our little inner battles, but we've come through them pretty well, doncha think? Besides, we won't lose as long as we're happy and together. That crazy shit can't take us when we got nothin' to go crazy over," he said, taking her hand in his and pressing it softly to his lips. Neliel blushed and smiled at him. He was so good at calming her down.

"Sometimes I worry though. We see Demons Descend every day. What's to keep us from following?" Descending was the term demons had given to losing their sanity. Every demon had an element of madness or dementedness to them, and they had to fight to keep control of it. Sometimes a demon could not control the insanity inside of them and Descended, or gave in to the raging madness.

"We've got each other," Nnoitra said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We'll keep each other from Descending, I know it." He was looking intently into her eyes now. "I'll protect you, Nelly, and you keep my sanity safe too, k?" He grinned and sat up, nuzzling his head into her neck, taking care not to scratch her with his horns.

Neliel smiled sweetly and stroked his hair. "Always, love." She kissed the top of his head and lay back down, neither letting go until morning, their fears abated and love sated for the night.

"I wonder if I failed him, if it's my fault," she said aloud, not really seeing the terrain any longer. She pulled herself back from her thoughts, the scene before her eyes shifting from a grassy hill drowned in moonlight to the sunlit afternoon on the old dirt road through the plain. "Regardless, it is over now. He has Descended." Even admitting that was tremendously difficult. Nnoitra had Descended. She had to shake off her stupor and start running again. She'd get away from him, she had to, or be pulled into Descending herself.

She growled out loud and lowered her head, glaring at the ground. How dare he try to make her Descend!

Her sneer began to change to a sinister smile. She let a few chuckles fall from her lips and her body started to tremble delightfully.

"Die Nnoitra, die die die!" She laughed harder. "Die die die die die die die die-" She cut herself off and snapped her head up.

What is happening to me?

Perhaps it was too late for her. Perhaps she was already heading down the road to Descending.

"No!" she cried, slamming her head against a nearby tree. "Not yet, I'm not done yet," she growled lowly.

"Aren't you?"

Neliel whipped her head around and almost screamed. But she couldn't, she was too terrified.

"N-Nnoitra?" she asked hoarsely. "How did you-"

"I always know, Neliel," he said darkly with a grin on his face. A demented grin. "And I know you don't have too long now," he chuckled and stood right before her, leaning and leering over her menacingly.

Neliel stared wide-eyed and horrified at the man before her. "You can't be here," she said, shaking her head back and forth in a physical denial of the sight before her. Nnoitra could not have found her. She left no clue, nothing behind to indicate anything.

His presence proved her wrong though. He was big and frightening and so very there that she could not possibly deny it. His eyes were slits and gleaming, like a hunter ready for the kill. He was ready to catch and eat, and Neliel had no chance.

"It doesn't matter," he laughed. "If I'm here or I'm not, you can't escape me."

Neliel breathed harshly out and growled in his face.

"You're not here!" she cried half in anger, half in elation. "You're just in my head."

So he hadn't found her after all! She was spared this one moment to continue on. Then again, why was she envisioning him? Did she miss him that much?

"True, true," he conceded-if I can even say he- and took a few steps backwards. "But that makes it all the worse."

Neliel felt her legs buckle from beneath her. She had no words, because he was right! She was seeing him now, could feel his presence in her mind, the embodiment of what she knew of insanity and the figurehead for it in her head. She associated descending with him, and he stood before her, a figment produced by her mind.

"Am I Descending?" she whispered, a shivering mess on the ground.

She felt Nnoitra walk closer.

No, not walk, he's not real so he can't really do anything.

But it was hard to get a grasp on that when he seemed so real.

"It's only the beginning, Nelly." She looked up to stare into his mocking eyes, his hand lowering slowly towards the top of her head. "It gets so much better!"

"NO!" she cried and swatted his hand away, or tried to at least. She felt nothing when her hand should have touched his, and he was gone as though nothing had occurred at all.

But… It hadn't.

She let her head fall back against the tree, closing her eyes and letting nature settle her.

I'm Descending. She sighed and opened her eyes, because nothing in the real world was as bad as what was happening on the inside. She couldn't handle looking inward right then.

"How long, I wonder…" she mused, raising her hand and letting it block the sun from her eyes, shifting her fingers to let the light trace patterns over her face, making the world a swirl of bright spots and streaks. It made her a bit dizzy.

"No one knows, babe." Neliel frowned and turned her head away from where the voice was supposedly coming from.

"Go away, Nnoitra," she said, closing her eyes again. It didn't matter though, the voice just kept on talking and she saw him on the backs of her eyelids instead.

"I'm just here to ease the transition," he said, and when she looked at him again, he was leaning relaxed back on the tree.

"How could you ease anything?" she asked sceptically, deigning it pointless to try and avoid something that was in her head anyways. "I'd say I made a bad choice."

"Your call Nelly," he said with a grin. "Don't want me, get rid of me."

I can't, she thought irately. She didn't know why, but she couldn't.

"Yea, I know," Nnoitra said in a teasing voice. "Probably means you're pretty far gone. You can't even control your own mind."

She frowned again and looked down at her legs, unnatural in that they were demonic. Everything about us is unnatural.

"I dunno, insanity is pretty natural, and we fall into that pretty easy." Neliel rolled her eyes. An answer she would expect from him, and that was probably why he said it. He was only her minds' projection.

An idea lodged itself in her mind. My mind's projection, I wonder…

She got up and started walking. She was faster than Nnoitra in reality, so she would just outrun him.

"This ain't something you can run away from, Nelly. It'll follow you and follow you until it swallows you whole," he said, following closely behind her.

"But you could never catch me," she said with a triumphant gleam. "You never will, and if I can't stop Descending, at least I can escape you!" And she took off. True to her hypothesis, the illusion disappeared, left far behind. Apparently, her illusions followed the conventions of her mind and what she believed to be true or what she knew. So, the illusion of Nnoitra would never catch up to her. When she stopped, he'd probably show up again, but for now, just for now, she could run. Run and run and run and, later, Descend.

XXX

"So, did he catch his friend?"

Grimmjow gave Ulquiorra the most evil glare he'd ever seen, and Ulquiorra had seen demons who wished for nothing more than his utter painful demise.

"Oh, Ulqui! You heard that too huh," Urahara said with a wild grin. Grimmjow's eyes twitched and Ulquiorra had to hold back a mirthless chortle.

They'd ended up at Urahara Kisuke's shop again, getting supplies to fix the window. Grimmjow had been right. Ulquiorra hadn't noticed before, but Urahara's place had everything, from hardware to books to a dangerously large candy stock.

The more time Ulquiorra spent around the man, the more he wondered if he himself was so strange.

But enough of his distracted musings.

Ulquiorra had been curious about Grimmjow's past, the not-so tragic aspects of it (though the tragic bits were just as interesting to listen to, just more heart-wrenching). Who better to ask than his father-figure of however many years?

He decidedly ignored Grimmjow's disturbing twitching eye and snarl growing more ferocious by the second.

"Yes, it was quite entertaining," he said, staring blankly at Urahara. He certainly didn't look entertained, but appearances were deceiving.

Ulquiorra's eyes darted towards Grimmjow at that thought. Quite deceiving indeed.

"Well, as a matter of fact, he did! Stark naked in the middle of the food court! Quite an oddity, seeing a naked man tackle another man and start screaming 'this is what you fucking deserve, you little cock-sucker! Take it like a man!' Impossibly entertaining. Would you like to see pictures?"

"Shut the fuck up, Kisuke!" Grimmjow shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Now now, Grimmy. I have other customers who probably don't appreciate that."

"Why the fuck should I care?" he growled and grabbed the front of Urahara's shirt, pulling his torso over the counter and snarling ferociously in his face.

"Forgot to brush this morning, I see," Urahara noted, which of course made Grimmjow twice as angry.

"You have pictures?" Ulquiorra piped up.

Grimmjow froze, turning to Ulquiorra in a deadly calm sort of way.

"I'll show them to you after I burn your eyes out with crosses," Grimmjow deadpanned and returned his attention to Kisuke. Still deadly calm. Possibly the most frightening he'd ever seen Grimmjow.

"I'm gonna bash your fucking skull in, so just shut up and take it in silence. Your voice pisses me off." He said, letting go of Urahara and picking a handily placed crowbar from the shelf opposite the counter. What a terrible place to put such an item.

Grimmjow twirled it in his hand a few times before walking, still calmly, towards Urahara again.

"Oh, come on Grimmy! We were just havin' a bit of fun, right Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra stared blankly at him. He wasn't stupid enough to divert Grimmjow's attention.

"Kisuke," Grimmjow said, an eerie smile on his face. "Hold still."

And, to Ulquiorra's slight surprise, he swung. And not just a 'play swing that one can easily dodge because they don't really want to hurt the person' swing. A full on 'no escape in sight so you'll be pushing daisies in a few minutes, bitch' swing.

To Urahara's credit, he did dodge, and quite expertly. He even held his hat on with the finesse of a professional, as though he's been doing it all his life.

Then again, he is a sensor.

"Can't we talk this out?" Urahara asked, a strangely happy smile on his face.

"I told ya, yer voice annoys me so I don' wanna hear it." He swung again, breaking various objects in the way as Urahara skilfully dodged again.

"Why are you always so unreasonable?" he pouted, waving his fan in front of him.

Why was he still holding that thing? He is being attacked, isn't he?

"I learned from the best. Now hold still," he said, taking another full on swing and bashing the crowbar against the wall, lodging it firmly in the new hole.

"Aw Grimmy, I just painted!" he complained, crossing his arms childishly.

"I bet red would look real nice. Let's see," he said with a grin and pulled the weapon from the wall, taking a running lunge at Urahara.

It just continued on and on, and Ulquiorra just watched bemusedly.

I thought the Espada under one roof was a disaster, he thought as Grimmjow smashed a shelf and Urahara whined about how much he was costing him.

He let it go on for a good fifteen minutes before Grimmjow ran past him, trying to strike again. Ulquiorra caught the crowbar in his hand, bringing everything to an abrupt halt. Ulquiorra stared at Grimmjow blankly.

"Are you quite through?" he asked, not really caring before he ripped the weapon from Grimmjow's hands and flung it across the store with ease.

"Ulqui! Thank you, you sweet little demon, you! Grimmy is so evil!" Urahara chirped cheerfully from his crouched position behind the counter, the top half of his face visible over it.

"You are all trash," Ulquiorra said flatly, picking up the equipment and walking briskly out of the store. Grimmjow sighed and turned to give one last glare in Urahara's direction before following Ulquiorra out.

"Such an interesting couple," Urahara mused, dusting off his hat. He giggled. "Grimmy's whipped."

Grimmjow stalked up to Ulquiorra and glared at him half-heartedly. "You are such a pain in the ass."

"I was not the one trying to dismember a man in front of various witnesses," Ulquiorra reminded him, staring straight ahead.

"So what? He's an even bigger pain in my ass! Besides, I don't get to fuck him to make up for it all," he leered, grinning madly.

"Continue as you have been and you will not get to fuck me either. I grow tired of your trivialities." Ulquiorra sped up a bit, leaving Grimmjow behind.

"Psh! You could never stay away from me! I can have you anytime, anywhere. Remember it," he said cockily, walking easily behind him.

"I doubt that," Ulquiorra said, glancing back to Grimmjow once before continuing on.

So he didn't see Grimmjow's evil, conniving smile.

Grimmjow caught Ulquiorra's elbow and pulled him around, wrapping his other arm around his back and leaning his head slightly over Ulquiorra's. His eyes were soft and half-lidded, a small smile on his face. "Ulquiorra," he breathed, lowering his head, bringing his lips closer and closer to Ulquiorra's.

Ulquiorra was caught in a trance and couldn't move.

For like, a second.

"Trash," he said, knocking Grimmjow fairly hard in the head. Left side.

"Fuck! Fucking hell Ulquiorra! What the fuck!"

"Do not think me so easy, Grimmjow."

"I am going to bury you alive on holy ground and exorcize your ass into a world of pain and take your entrails and feed them to weak demons before I kill them and use their bones to make a cage for you that I'll throw in a lake of holy water after resurrecting you and-" Ulquiorra kissed him passionately, even rubbing his knee against Grimmjow's already hard cock. Grimmjow moaned lustfully and tried groped Ulquiorra wherever he could get his hands.

"You are always so passionate in what you do when you are horny," Ulquiorra stated, pulling away. "Quite creative too."

"God you piss me off," Grimmjow muttered.

"It is a sin to use the Lord's name in vain," Ulquiorra chided blankly.

"I do not wanna hear religious moral talk from you," Grimmjow growled.

"Why? Would I not know religion? Have I not experienced enough of it to understand it?"

Grimmjow blinked. "You sound bitter about it," he noted.

By then, they were on the dirt road leading to the church. Of course they could have taken the car, but it was only noon and, though they wouldn't get back until roughly three, they figured the window wouldn't take too long and it was just too nice a day to pass up.

"Burn in Hell for a while and see how you like it, then," Ulquiorra stated, sending Grimmjow a particularly menacing glare.

Grimmjow backed off a bit, not wanting him to lash out. There was no window around to quell his anger and it may very well be his skull shattered on the ground this time.

"Guess I never thought about it," Grimmjow shrugged. "It's pretty bad, huh."

Ulquiorra stared at Grimmjow like he had damn well lost his mind.

"It is the epitome of 'bad.' It is purgatory. Indescribable, unimaginable."

He said no more and they did not talk for an hour.

XXX

An hour is a very long time and it certainly stretched. Grimmjow tried to conjure some sort of topic in his head, but nothing came to him. What could one say, after all, prior to being told that their lover had endured the tortures of Hell for God knows how long.

God knows… He didn't like that, didn't like that God knew how long and had done nothing.

But I did nothing. True, he hadn't know Ulquiorra then, but he most likely wouldn't have lifted a finger to help him even if he could have. Ulquiorra was, after all, a demon. And if he was in Hell, he probably deserved to be there.

And here I am, in love with him, protecting him, forgiving him. Grimmjow sighed aloud.

He was thinking in circles again. There would always be a moral issue with their relationship, no doubt. But he would accept Ulquiorra, because he no longer wanted to be the demon that had been sent to Hell, and he no longer was. He was Ulquiorra, Grimmjow's lover and seeking redemption. It was enough. Enough for Grimmjow to accept everything that came with him.

"Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow finally said. Ulquiorra glanced at him wearily. No doubt he had been reminiscing about his time burning where Grimmjow would, hopefully, only ever imagine.

"What?" he said, and Grimmjow sensed the venom behind the bored voice.

"I love you," he said, looking at his lover sadly. It hurt Grimmjow to know that Ulquiorra had gone through so much. It certainly put demons in perspective for him. Even he probably wouldn't be able to handle the strain of Hell forever and would end up a demon himself.

I can't think that, I can't pity them, Grimmjow snapped at himself. Or I won't kill them.

He looked over at Ulquiorra. It's already happening, though.

"Grimmjow…" Ulquiorra seemed to be at a loss for words. Grimmjow just smiled and took his hand, kissing the palm gently.

"I'll protect you from that now," he continued, staring sincerely into the demon's green, green eyes, no longer quite so dead. "You'll get your redemption somehow."

Ulquiorra leaned his head on Grimmjow's shoulder.

"I love you too, Grimmjow," he whispered against his skin, sending slight shivers down Grimmjow's spine. "I will be redeemed, and we can finally be together."

Grimmjow stroked his hair. "We are together. Nothing will ever change that. I swear this to you," he vowed, pulling Ulquiorra's face to look him dead in the eye. "I will be with you until the day we are ripped apart from each other."

Ulquiorra threw himself into Grimmjow's arms, the two not talking. There were no words needed. Love did not have to be expressed in words. It only had to be expressed.

XXX

AN: Hello all! I'm so sorry it took me a while to update. Been really really busy. I'll try to update more but I have lots of homework and finals are coming up and GAH! You know.

So, this was almost something of a setup chapter. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow are both feeling the strain of their choices and coming to both regret and accept them. Neliel is absolutely and literally starting to lose her mind, so I'm setting up something for that.

Ok, Neliel's little flashback. I wanted to create some contrast to her relationship now but also convey a sense that there was something wrong right from the beginning, even if she chose not to recognize it. Though it doesn't go too in depth into their relationship, I don't think any one flashback could. I could write a whole story on Neliel and Nnoitra's backstory and I doubt you wanted one flashback that long. So, this happened.

Because of all the seriousness in previous chapters, I wanted something a bit more lighthearted for Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. I had to keep elements of drama going but I also wanted to get across that, even with all this uncertainty following them, they still manage to have a few good times and that their relationship isn't all bad and suffering and indecision.

Likewise, though, I wanted to show that even if they're having a good time or being more silly, these issues are still swirling in the back of their minds.

I'm also trying to develop the characters more, but remember that this is actually my first story ever so I don't really know if I am. I'm happy to take pointers or critisism, just be nice or I may get discouraged, start questioning the whole thing, etc. But if you have a suggestion or something isn't sitting right with you, let me know! I'll try to cater to your needs :)

As always, Read and review! You know I love to hear it all. See you next time!