I just wanna tell you guys... I fuckin' love all my readers~
Anyway, on to the show! Well, chapter...
Enjoy~
Ichigo ran back down the hall, sliding on the smooth floor before turning into the washroom, his arms loaded with clean towels and medical supplies. The water pooling on slick tile soaked the bottoms of his pants and his bare feet, but the mess went unnoticed.
Shiro held the injured man as still as he could, keeping him laying in the tub with his back against the rounded basin as he attempted to clean the still bleeding wound that ran the length of his abdomen.
Between bouts of pained groaning and gasping, the cat had managed to get the point across that whatever silver still remained in the wound was causing him all the problems and that it needed to be cleaned out. Now. Shiro and Ichi had dragged him to the bathroom, figuring it would be easier to drop him in the tub to clean the large wound out.
"Come on, ya gotta stay still fer me..." Shiro mumbled as a the feline's muscles contracted and spammed and his body jerked, splashing water out of the tub and onto the floor. They hadn't actually filled the basin, just had the faucet running, but the man was still managing to make quite a mess, not that either of the humans could blame him or really even take notice of it.
Grimmjow gripped the sides of the tub tight enough to turn his knuckles white, baring his teeth as another pained sound squeezed out of his throat. His corded muscles bunched and strained as he fought to keep still like the near-albino had told him. Shiro gently ran a cloth along the cut, wiping the blood away and the bluenette yelped, his hands going to the source of his overwhelming pain. Running on mere instinct, the feline desperately tried to rid his body of the cursed metal, inadvertently tearing at the sword slash as he tried to search for the burning silver. The shards and pieces were too fine and small for him to get a hold of and he was doing more damage than good, but he couldn't help it.
"Shit, Grimm! Quit that..." Dropping the supplies he had grabbed on the counter by the sink, Ichigo edged around Shiro to kneel on the wet floor behind Grimmjow. He reached over the bluenette's shoulders and grabbed the feline's wrists, keeping his bloodied hands away from the wound he kept trying to instinctively dig the silver out of.
"Use the stuff in that bottle, Shiro" Ichigo told his twin, nodding toward a greenish colored, glass bottle on the counter. "It's supposed to bubble and clean out any debris." He wrapped his arms about the shivering man, still holding onto his wrists to keep his hands away from the vicious wound. Worry gnawed at his gut, making the Caster clench and unclench his jaw. He hoped the antiseptic cleaning liquid would be able to remove the silver from the cat's body, it was the only thing he could think of that might work.
They had tried to search for the pieces, but they couldn't find what they could hardly see. A faint shimmer among all the blood and shredded flesh was the only evidence that the silver even resided in the feline's body.
Grimmjow panted, laying back against the porcelain basin of the tub, the Caster's arms wrapped around his shoulders and keeping him from struggling. A near constant growling groan left his throat that he was hardly conscious of making, the sound changed pitch with every movement or touch to his abdomen as pain lanced through his body and flashed behind his eyes. His body quivered but he didn't feel cold, he didn't feel anything over the burn of silver.
Shiro grabbed the bottle, pulling the stopper off and up ended it, letting the cool, bitting liquid run over the gash in the werepanther's torso. The medicinal liquid foamed and hissed as it sluiced through blood and torn flesh.
The man's reaction was almost instant. Grimmjow arched his back, his head falling back to lay heavily on Ichigo's shoulder as he struggled in the Caster's surprisingly strong hold. A whine escaped as he squeezed his eyes shut around the burning sting.
Ichigo pressed his lips to the feline's creased brow and murmured softly in a comforting tone, looking to Shiro from the corner of his wide, worry filled brown eyes. Gone were the memories of their past as the two focused on how to help the man they now included in their future.
His pale copy grimaced, but nodded and grabbed a clean cloth. He whipped away the bubbling foam, now tinted pink with blood. Looking back up at Grimmjow, who was beginning to relax a little again in the Caster's grasp, he apologized quietly before pouring more of the bottle's contents down the man's toned abdomen.
The feline turned his head, burying his face in Ichigo's neck. His sharp teeth drew a trickle of blood from his bottom lip as he bit down to suppress his pained whimper. He failed and the pitiful sound threatened to bring tears to the Caster's eyes.
"You alright, Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked in a soft voice after a moment. The man's breath panted across his neck and chest in short, fast bursts, but he felt a slight nod against his skin. "Is it working? Can you tell?"
Grimmjow took a deep breath as a cool cloth was ran across the sword slash, clearing the foaming medicine away. "Y...yes, it is." He could feel the burn of the silver lessening. The fine pieces were being drawn out and lifted away by the bubbling liquid, but it certainly didn't feel good. It felt like someone had lit his torso on fire, the burn spreading out to his extremities, making them tingle in a none too pleasant way. The harsh liquid was drawing the silver out, but it burned too, like throwing alcohol on the flame.
••••••
"What did you say you were fighting against?" A slim finger pushed the wide brim of a hat back slightly, letting bright eyes glitter as the shop keeper watched the bigger man's face remain a controlled, bored expression.
"Cat." Kenpachi ground out, careful not to breath too deeply as his business partner hovered over the lacerated flesh of his abdomen with a needle and thread. The man was good at anything that required intelligence or a steady hand, which is what made them such great partners. Kenpachi was the muscle and the man to go out into the field, while his partner played the roll of brain and stayed in the lab.
Nimble fingers maneuvered the needle, pushing it through skin and drawing the thread tight to close another section of gouged flesh. He had long since grown used to patching Kenpachi's scared hide and knew the big man wouldn't flinch and mess him up while he worked.
"I think you could use a new cat, then" He mumbled quietly, still concentrating on the task at hand. It was hard to miss how large the dragging claw wounds were, though. He'd half expected to hear the man had been mauled by a werewolf.
"hnn, I don't have pets." Kenpachi curled his top lip, his dark eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. "He was a werecat; a worthy opponent. I would have been in trouble if I hadn't had that silver poison. Sword hardly seemed to bother him without it."
"Ah, yes. I presume it worked quite flawlessly." The decidedly male, yet somehow odd voice of his partner held no small amount of confidence as he continued to sew the brute that was his business partner up.
"I thought it was suppose to knock him out." Kenpachi half asked, half stated. The silver had knocked him to the ground, stripping his resurrection like it was supposed to, but as far as Kenpachi had been able to tell, that was the only ingredient in the poison that had effected the feline.
Slim fingers paused to hover over the next section of gored flesh for a moment. "It should have made muscle control impossible as well as drugging the creature up. Did it not?"
"Nah, he was still very awake and kicking..."
A small bell jingled from the ground floor, interrupting the conversation. The shop keeper spun his chair in circle before hopping to his feet and prancing much too enthusiastically to the short staircase that would take him to the upper level.
A moment later, Urahara's cheerful, sing song "Hello~" reached their ears through the opened double doors in the floor as he greeted the shop's guest.
"The meeting with the wolf, how did that go?" The man asked, tying the thread off and snipping it close to the skin with a pair of small, sewing scissors. He unlocked the heavy swivel, doctor's chair and twirled it until Kenpachi sat facing the wall before locking it again.
"Tough to say. He's playing a dangerous game and didn't want to show all his cards." Kenpachi sat still, watching his partner wash his hands and grab a scalpel from a metal tray. The scientist pulled the tray closer and adjusted the arm rest of the chair, motioning for Kenpachi to rest his arm on it to hold it up and out of his way while he worked.
Kenpachi looked straight ahead, grunting when thin fingers began probing along path the slug had taken; starting at the entry wound and pressing on his damaged rib before finding where the shell lodged under his flesh.
"There it is." The man whispered to himself after a moment. Keeping one hand in place against Kenpachi's side, he grabbed the scalpel with his other. "Any idea what it's up to?"
Kenpachi clenched his jaw, looking straight ahead as the tip of the blade sliced through his skin over the bullet. "Not sure he knows what he's doin'. He asked the cat about ousting someone named Starrk, but when the cat refused he sent me in."
"Hmm, hence the damage." The man said knowingly, using a pair of forceps to dig through the incision he had made. "Sounds like it's trying to keep it's options open... Almost have it..." He twisted the tweezers around, feeling the tips scrape against the shell.
Kenpachi grunted as he felt metal scrape metal under his flesh. "Doesn't matter what he's doin'."
"True enough." The man gently eased the forceps out of the scalpel cut and the shell thunked to the metal tray. "hmm, you're feline friend uses silver?" He asked curiously, rinsing the blood away from the shell with a squirt bottle.
"Nah, kitty didn't seem to like silver much. That was a gift from a ghost."
Kenpachi's partner stared blankly at him for a moment. "Oh my. There's only one Undead around here that I've heard of."
••••••
Wiping the last of the foaming cleanser away from the man's torn abdomen, Shiro looked up into clouded, unfocused blue eyes. "Ya sure that's all a it?" He asked quietly. They had drained more than half of the bottle to get it all, he had thought they might need to go find more. Whoever had made the poisonous concoction with the silver had been clever. Shiro and Ichi had nearly needed to bleed the poor feline out to clean all of it out of his wound.
Grimmjow's eyes sharpened slightly at the lilting, distinct voice and the werepanther nodded tiredly, grasping the edges of the tub and beginning to pull himself upright. Shiro and Ichigo helped him step from the tub before using a clean, dry towel to pat his bare body down, collecting as much of the water and saturated blood from him as they could.
A groan bubbled from his throat as he was lowered into a chair. Grimmjow blinked and forced his eyes to focus. They were in the sitting room now, a small, warm fire lit in the fireplace; he couldn't even remember the humans walking him down the hall to get there. He felt weak and tired and he wondered what else had been mixed with the odd silver. It was possible that most of his disorientation was caused by the hours he had sat in the tub, enduring unbelievable pain while the humans had diligently cleaned his injury though. He couldn't concentrate long enough to decide.
The room shifted and he felt warm hands braced against his shoulders, back; working down and around his abdomen. Shiro was holding him upright, keeping him still while the Caster dressed the raw sword slash with cloth bandages. Delicate, gentle fingers worked a cool, soothing salve over the wound and the werepanther let his eyes slip closed again, the barest hint of a purr escaping in uneven intervals at the relieving sensation.
Ichigo secured the last of the bandages and helped Shiro position the man so he was laying back in the chair. He smoothed damp, limp blue strands away from Grimmjow's face and looked to his twin, finding that his own worry was reflected back at him. The werepanther's words had been slurred slightly back in the washroom and the Caster could tell he was having trouble focusing on his surroundings.
"He'll be ok, right?" Ichigo asked softly, knowing his brother couldn't really tell him anything he didn't know already. They both started slightly at the rough sound of the panther's voice.
"It's going to take more than this to kill me off." He lay, propped up in the chair, unmoving. His brilliant blue eyes were still closed. His hair lacked it's usual sexy chaos, the blue strands falling around his face, but his voice was sincere and determined. He would rest, let his wound heal and let whatever had been coating that sword work it's way through his system and then he'd be fine. Just like always; just like every other grievous wound he had taken in his long life.
It wasn't so easy to kill a deidad, even a fallen one. That strange human would find that out soon enough, Grimmjow had time. He frowned a bit, forcing his hazy thoughts to reorganize into something coherent. Something tugged at his memory; the rogue original and his stray followers. Familiar, yet not. He had said something about Starrk; offered the feline a deal.
The two men watched blue brows pull together, the werecreature's angular face showing confusion before his eyes opened wide to reveal their stunning color, nearly glowing with their own light.
"Woah, hey..." Shiro reached out and pushed Grimmjow back into the chair as he struggled to get to his feet. "I don't think ya should be up an' movin around already."
Grimmjow grasped the pale man's wrist and struggled to push him away, his usual overwhelming strength lessened from his battle with the silver. His eyes were wild as they swung up to look Shiro in the face. Unveiled worry, almost fear, swirled in their depths and it looked like he would try to bolt at any moment.
For a minute, Shiro feared he had somehow forgotten them, that he didn't recognize them. But in the next instant, the unusual fear was replaced with a pleading look.
"I need to talk to Starrk." Grimmjow said, his deep voice low and serious. A hint of his desperation showed through in his tone. He and Starrk were supposed to be rivals, sworn enemies; but they're relationship was something more than just that. A silent understanding had always hovered between them. One that the werecat didn't understand himself, but it was there and he felt he needed to warn the wolf. He owed Starrk that much at least.
"You can't go hunting the forest like this..." Ichigo said hesitantly. He could see the determined glow to Grimmjow's eyes, but he wasn't going to let him get himself into more trouble. If he went out looking for the Alpha, he would undoubtedly run across other werewolves and he wasn't in any condition to fight his way through like usual. The wolves would recognize his weakness and exploit it while they had the chance.
"I need to warn him." Grimmjow said, looking at the orange haired man. He wanted to get angry, wanted to be furious at someone daring to tell him what he could and couldn't do. He couldn't bring himself to be, though. He understood, he knew the Caster was only looking out for him, that Ichigo was worried about him.
"Let's try in the morning, maybe" Ichigo said, silently hoping Grimmjow would agree. "We can check your injury and see how you feel then."
The werepanther studied the Caster's face. He let out a quiet sigh and nodded, falling back into the chair. The human was right, his body needed rest. He smirked as he watched both humans visibly relax as he rested back and made himself comfortable. He wasn't conscious long enough to even see the humans take their respective seats.
••••••
Dark eyes flashed in the dying light of the day. A cruel sound, almost a laugh, left a beastly throat as screams pierced the chilled air and drifted away on the wintery breeze. A glass window shattered, the shards audible to sensitive ears as they landed on the hard wood floor and window sill. Heavy footsteps crunched over the broken glass and a gun shot, loud and echoing, broke through the screaming. The sound was followed by an enraged snarling before a desperate yell was cut short with an unnatural abruptness.
Greying lips pulled away from vicious fangs in a mock smile. The old male stood amongst the shadowed and mostly bare trees and watched as his small pack raided the human home. The front door was thrown open, the wooden portal illuminated by a warm, inviting light from within.
A woman shrieked and ran through the opened door, clutching a child to her chest. The girl's blond hair was pulled away from her frightened face. Angry, red and half healed wounds ran down the side of that young face, across her frail neck, disappearing under the pink dress she wore.
Baraggan stepped forward, his gait calm and unhurried as the woman made a run for the village. The hope of escape was illogical; the nearest neighbor was miles away. Their feeble human hearing wouldn't be able to pick up the woman's pathetic cries for help as she tried to save herself and her only remaining child. The denizens of the village were further still, they wouldn't even hear the echoing gun shot.
The villagers would find all the bodies but one with the next dawn; blood cold and sticky on the floor boards. A family murdered in the dark of night, killed by creatures few believed in anymore, just more casualties of the dangerous season. Entreals were pulled from body cavities, spread across the floors; blood splashed across walls, streaking the shattered glass of windows, reaching to spray the ceilings. A meal was left to grow cold on the table, just like the bodies it was meant to nourish. The only survivors would be the father and son's hunting dogs; the hounds smart enough to fear the beastly visitors and stay quiet as they huddled on the end of their chains, pulled as far away from the house as possible and cowering in the dirt. They would never hunt again. Driven mad by the events that killed their masters, the town officials would shoot them once they dealt with the bodies of the family.
Dark, canine nostrils flared in anger for a brief second. His scent still lingered. The bodies of his four followers had been disposed of; burned and the ashes buried in the surrounding forest. But the feline's scent still lingered around for those who were looking to notice. The scent mingled with the human occupants, it had lost it's sharpness, it's clarity, but it was still distinctly feline. He had taken pity on them once; saved them and spared them from a grizzly fate. He had shown a weakness the werewolf didn't think he had still possessed.
The werecat would recognize this for the warning it was; the threat and promise it implied. No more words would be exchanged between them, the werepanther had insured that. Baraggan had planned to overlook that the feline and his human pets had killed a few of his followers, there were always more strays to recruit; but after their little exchange...
Maybe the insufferable panther would finally put the last pieces together. He had never quite figured out how that human Caster had found him, found his sacred temple to bind him all those centuries ago.
Another cruel chuckle slipped passed his parted lips as Baraggan silently gave chase. He caught up to and captured the woman in mere seconds, no effort needed. In a pathetic and feeble attempt to save her offspring, the human spun and clutched the girl closer, placing herself between the toddler and the attacking werewolf.
The old male tore through her body with ease, her spilt blood staining the child's pale dress and hair. The girl's eyes were large as she stared up at Baraggan, tears streaked her face as she clutched at her mother's sweater. Red seeped through, mixing with the blue of the fabric held in small hands, blossoming into a pretty purple before darkening to a deep, tainted crimson.
Baraggan bared his yellowed teeth in a smile full of malice. The screams of the child's family being slaughtered by his wolves created a fine background noise as he snatched up the young human.
"There there, girl. Do you know what I am?" He whispered, wiping her tears away and only succeeding in smearing the mother's blood across her small features. The old wolf shrugged to himself as he bent to grasp the gurgling woman by the hair. Her eyes were already dull; her mind dead and her body slowly coming to realize it had lost it's fight.
He stood back upright, clutching the crying toddler almost carefully in one arm; a giant hand fisted in the dead woman's long hair. He began his short walk back to the house, dragging the woman behind him.
"An omen of change, child." Baraggan said, his rough voice soft, mocking a parent's soothing tone. Blood mixed with the dirt of the path he tread on, the human woman's body digging a shallow furrow; like a trail to be followed or a ditch for blood to flow through; blood that would nourish the flora of the surrounding village before drowning it.
There would be no survivors. The small girl was dead too...well she would be. Just not yet. Not even the werecat could save her this time. No, Baraggan had a message to send, a warning to deliver, a fate to seal.
He smirked as blue flashed in his mind; furious, wild fire simmering in their depths. Cold fire and despair.
••••••
Shiro opened the door to the restroom, dragging a hand through his unbound, white hair. He hid his yawn and a tired smirk behind his hand as King yawned at the same time, edging passed him to enter the now unoccupied room.
"Think we should wake him up?" Shiro asked, his lilting voice soft as to not disturb the comfortable silence that had enveloped their large home. He leaned against the door frame and watched his copy ready himself for bed, purposely keeping his eyes directed away from the bathtub. Neither of them had felt up to the task of scrubbing it down yet and it still sported the reddish stains from the man that was currently sleeping in a chair down the hall.
"Probably. The last thing we need is for him to wake up later and try to climb the stairs on his own." Ichigo shook his head a little. He had thought Shiro stubborn, but Grimmjow put the near-albino to shame sometimes.
The paler of the two snorted his agreement and turned from the bathroom to head back to the sitting room, where they had been for most of the evening. Grimmjow had fallen asleep after only a few minutes and true to his heritage, seemed content to sleep away most of the hours following the cleaning of his wound. The twins had come to the conclusion that it was his body's way of conserving energy and focusing on the healing process. Also true to his feline heritage, he was easily awoken and every time one of the humans had moved to much or stood up, Grimmjow was awake enough to see that it was only Shiro or Ichigo before he fell back into his soft slumber. It was a miracle that he hadn't woken up while they had snuck away to ready for bed.
Shiro walked over to the fireplace, dousing the flame before he made his way quietly to Grimmjow. He kneeled beside the sleeping man, curled in one of the chairs in a position that no normal man could possibly be comfortable in. "Hey, we're goin' ta bed, ya comin'?" The ashen man asked softly, not wanting to startle the feline.
Blue brows furrowed and Grimmjow pried open a single eye, still unmoving save for the steady rhythm of his even breathing. He let the question hang in the air for a moment before nodding and stretching his muscled arms above his head. He winced and quickly dropped his arms, wrapping them protectively around his damaged abdomen as he let a slow, controlled breath hiss between his teeth.
"Nice job." Shiro said, his tone mocking but light hearted and quiet. He extended his hand to the injured man.
The werepanther sent a glare that would have been scary in any other situation to the pale man standing before him, but accepted the offered help and carefully pulled himself upright.
"How are you feeling?" Ichigo asked from the door to the hallway. He watched the man gingerly walk passed him, surprised that he still made not a sound even in his injured state as he slowly padded down the hall. He followed Grimmjow and Shiro toward the staircase.
Grimmjow grunted, his tired mind wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. The deep wound to his midsection screamed at him with every step he took and, not for the first nor last time that day, he wondered what else had been mixed with that silver. Whatever it was, he knew it wouldn't be enough to cause serious damage, but it made his mind fuzzy and everything hurt and he hoped it worked through his system quickly. "Like someone tried to dissect me, otherwise I'm fine"
Ichigo winced a little at the man's answer, but it was understandable. He braced his hand across the small of Grimmjow's back as he swayed a little on the stairs. By his side, Shiro tightened his grip on the werecat's arm and the three of them slowly made their way to the second floor.
Once the man was laying on the large mattress of the bed, he was out like a light and the twin humans pulled the blankets over him before climbing into the inviting and large bed to join him. Grimmjow made a soft groaning noise as the bed shifted and he wrapped his arms around the men, one on either side of him, in his sleep. A quiet, contented purr drifted into the silence and Shiro rolled his eyes, a happy smile tilting his lips as he leaned over the naked man to kiss Ichigo.
"Night, King." He whispered, settling back down.
Ichigo smiled in the dark, closing his eyes and resting his head on Grimmjow's shoulder. "Good night, Shiro"
••••••
Grimmjow snapped awake with a slight gasp as something fell heavily across his torn abdomen. He bit into his bottom lip, forcing his breathing to stay regular as the sharp pain subsided to a dull throb.
His mind feeling much more clear than it had earlier, he wondered how long he had slept. A quick assessment of the dark room and it's other occupants told him that morning had yet to arrive. He looked down, to the source of the weight on his sore torso and what had woken him.
Shiro's pale arm was draped across his middle, the albino had somehow switched their positions, situating himself in between the Caster and Grimmjow. Shiro was laying on his stomach. His head was on the pillow next to the werepanther's, his pale face turned toward his own. Petal soft lips were parted slightly, exhaling soft, sleep heavy, sighing breaths. His ashen hair cascaded across the navy colored pillow like wispy clouds in a dark, sunless sky.
Ichigo had thrown the blanket off himself at some point and was huddled against his copy, lightly tanned arms circling Shiro's trim, boxer clad hips. He was bent at the waist, his head resting on the lower part of Shiro's shirtless back, facing the foot of the bed. His shoulder length, orange hair fanned across Shiro's pale back, giving the man the appearance of having more color than was normal.
Grimmjow smirked and kissed the pale twin on the forehead. The sight of the two was pretty adorable and he wished he could reach Ichigo as well.
Shiro hummed lightly, happily, at the soft kiss. He turned his face upward, bringing his own lips to meet Grimmjow's.
The kiss was deep yet soft, sweet even. "Thought you were asleep" Grimmjow murmured quietly against pale, inviting lips.
"Hnn" Shiro's gold on black eyes fluttered open, their intensity nearly making them glow. "Woke up when ya did. How ya feelin'?" He asked softly, lips still brushing Grimmjow's.
"Little better, not so...foggy." The panther answered. Shiro kissed him again, tugging gently at his bottom lip with his teeth. The albino shifted a little, turning to face Grimmjow's solid body more.
He kissed the man's angular jaw line, brushed his lips across smooth, warm skin. He made his way down the man's thick neck, nipping lightly at his collar bone before returning to his lips again. "Tha's good" He whispered, then pulled back a little to look into darkening, blue eyes. Shiro smirked apologetically. "Sorry, pro'lly wouldn' be very good fer ya at this point though..." He kept his voice low, trying not to disturb his sleeping copy.
Grimmjow almost whined, almost. "You can't just stop after that." He pointed out, voice carrying a husky tone to it. He snaked his arms around Shiro's neck, pulling the man close again. He initiated a searing kiss, letting the near-albino know he was more than interested in continuing and couldn't care less about what was good for him at the moment.
Shiro smirked and bit down as the feline's devilish tongue tried to invade his mouth. He quickly replaced the opened space with his own, carefully pulling himself out from under the sleeping Caster. Ichigo stirred, rolling over to face the opposite direction in his sleep. Shiro reached down, lips still sealed with Grimmjow's, tongues still battling for dominance, and pulled the blanket back over King.
Pale hands ran over solid, tanned muscle, careful to avoid the gash that split the even planes of Grimmjow's abdomen. Shiro pulled away, breaking the kiss. A thin string of saliva connected them, broken once the feline ran his tongue over his full bottom lip. Darkened, heavy lidded blue eyes regarded a pair of shimmering, equally lust heavy golden ones and Grimmjow could tell Shiro had something specific in mind. The thoughts died in his mind as slim fingers fisted gently in his wild, blue mane and pulled, forcing Grimmjow to expose his throat for the albino.
Shiro ran his hot tongue over the corded muscle of the man's neck, nipping here and there. He dipped his slick muscle into the hollow at the base of Grimmjow's throat, receiving a quiet moan for the action. He licked his way back up, stopping to kiss the underside of the feline's chin and jaw.
Big hands ran down his back, blunt nails scratching lightly with urgency. Shiro could feel the feline's heavy member come to life below him, his own cock responding as his erection strained against his boxers. Shiro palmed the werecreature's growing erection to distract him as he slicked his fingers with his own tongue.
Grimmjow groaned quietly, body arching into the teasing touch of Shiro's hand. That sinful tongue and mouth returned to his neck, biting down as a hand sneaked between his legs and a finger traced the seem of his cheeks.
The bluenette stiffened and Shiro paused to look up at him, silently asking permission to continue. Grimmjow's eyes were half mast and dark, his breathing coming in light pants with his arousal. He reached a strong arm around Shiro's shoulders and pulled the pale man's upper half closer, crushing their lips together while his hips bucked up slightly, grinding his hard member into Shiro's hip.
Taking that as a go ahead, Shiro let his exploring digit push between and circle around Grimmjow's entrance. The werecat's chest rumbled with a deep, arousing growl that forced a shiver to run through the human. Using his free hand, Shiro pulled Grimmjow's knee up and pushed his legs further apart before settling between them. A strong hand wrapped around his wrist as he pushed his other hand forward, slipping his finger into the man's tight entrance.
"Ff...fuck..." Grimmjow breathed, squeezing his eyes closed.
The breathy tone went straight to Shiro's dick as he gazed at the delicious man spread out below him. Grimmjow quivered slightly as Shiro slowly drew his finger back, the muscles of his abdomen bunched and tightened below the white fabric bandages. The near-albino moaned low in his throat with want, his hard cock aching.
He did his best to be patient, giving the werepanther a moment to adjust while he slowly and shallowly thrust his finger in and out before adding a second finger. Grimmjow's head dropped back to the pillow, his brow creasing but a heavy groan fell from his parted lips and his hips bucked at the mix of pain and pleasure. Shiro picked up the pace of his thrusting digits and leaned forward to tease at a pert nipple with his tongue.
Below him, Grimmjow writhed, pushing back against the invading fingers a few times before finding his voice. "Shiro..." He practically growled, all thoughts of staying quiet as to not wake the sleeping Caster next to them gone. "Now..."
The word was a command and Shiro was all too happy to comply. He pulled his fingers out, yanked his boxers out of the way and lined up. He thrust forward, pausing when the head of his cock pushed passed the tight ring of muscle and Grimmjow whimpered slightly. Leaning forward, Shiro kissed the corner of his lips, drawing his attention away from the pain.
Grimmjow pried his eyes open, looking up into Shiro's gold on black orbs as the albino thrust forward once more, sheathing himself fully. A strangled moan erupted from the werecat, matched by an aroused groan by the pale man above him. After a moment, Grimmjow reached down, gripping pale hips and pulled; trying to force Shiro into motion.
The ashen man smirked before drawing back, almost leaving Grimmjow's tight heat completely before he snapped his hips forward again. The werecat grasped at his arms, running his fingers and nails over the toned muscle of his shoulders and down his chest. Shiro found a steady rhythm, thrusting with deep, even strokes that had the bigger man below him panting and groaning quietly. Damn did he want to hear more of those sounds.
Shiro thrust harder, increasing his speed as he snapped his hips forward harshly. Grimmjow's whole body jerked, his head falling to the side as one hand fisted in white locks, the other finding purchase in the sheets he was laying on. He pulled Shiro closer, forcing him to thrust deeper.
"Mnnn...More..." Grimmjow demanded, his voice still commanding and powerful even as he writhed and panted below the smaller man.
"Shit...Grimmnn..." Shiro moaned out as he complied with the werecat's request and forced his pace to quicken.
Beside them, Ichigo stirred, slowly being drawn from his slumber by the increasing sounds and movements behind him. He furrowed his orange brows before opening his eyes, his still sleep heavy mind confused. That was definitely Grimmjow's voice and panting, was the man alright? He feared something had happened and taken a turn for the worse through out the night.
He rolled over slowly. "Grimm? You ok?" His eyes widened and he froze, instantly awake as his twin thrust forward and Grimmjow's face contorted with pleasure, a growling moan erupting and bubbling forth over parted lips.
Shiro pulled back and thrust again, the hand gripped in his hair finally falling to snag in the sheets at the werecat's side. Grimmjow tossed his head, darkened eyes, nearly matching the dark sheets, found the Caster's wide brown ones. A slow grin started to take over his handsome, flushed features but Shiro thrust forward again and Grimmjow's moan filled the room and his grin was transformed into an expression of pure, carnal pleasure.
"Tha's it...moan fer me, Grimm..." Shiro ground out, thrusting again. His fingers dug into tan hips as he changed his angle slightly.
Grimmjow's cry of pleasure sounded from deep in his throat, letting the albino know he found what he was looking for.
Ichigo slowly sat up, eyes glued to the scene before him. His hand found it's way to his already rock hard member inside his shorts and he couldn't help but stroke as he watched his brother pound into the fierce werecat.
Shiro grunted as he continued to thrust, his rhythm became unsteady for a moment as heat pooled in his belly and he felt his release hurtling toward him. He eased his grip on the werepanther's hips and started to wrap pale fingers around the man's saluting cock.
Ichigo batted his hand away and leaned forward, licking up the side of the heavy member before wrapping his lips around the head. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked down the length, humming when his actions were rewarded with a throaty moan from the bluenette. One hand still pumping his own aching cock, Ichigo used his free one to cover what he couldn't reach with his mouth.
Shiro watched the orange head bob up and down on Grimmjow's length for a moment. His eyes snapped to the feline's face as the man's deep voice rose above the combined sounds of their panting and his body stiffened. His back arched away from the bed and a moment later he came hard with a deep, grunting moan.
Ichigo swallowed, pulling away with a soft pop. He stroked himself a few more times before his own body convulsed and his seed covered his hand, spilling into his shorts. Shiro thrust deep once more, the werecat's tight heat milking his cock and pulling his orgasm from him. He panted and leaned forward, supporting his weight on slightly shaking arms to keep from falling across Grimmjow's wound.
Grimmjow panted, laying back on the bed, his body throughly sated. He grimaced slightly as Shiro slowly pulled his softening member free and he ignored the fluids trickling from his cavity.
Shiro collapsed to the bed beside the bluenette, wrapping his arms around Ichigo and rolling over to pull the Caster over him and place the man between he and the bluenette. Ichigo settled down, letting his arms wrap around his twin's waist, head pressed against his sweat slicked chest and his knee resting between Shiro's legs. He felt Grimmjow shift behind him, then a soft breath tickled at the back of his neck and a warm tongue ran across the shell of his ear before strong arms wrapped around him. The breathing against his neck evened out in a matter of minutes and the Caster smiled softly as he snuggled against his twin and closed his eyes again.
••••••
The message was sent, delivered by way of code; a certain pattern to the howling drifting on the chill breeze, a certain note drawn out more; longer and lower than another, always coming from directly north, even though the designated meeting place was to the south of the village.
Kenpachi listened to the hushed call for a moment before standing from the metal chair. He had asked the male wolf he was meeting why he didn't just veer and walk into town to find him. He had learned, much to his partner's curiosity and interest, that not all werewolves could veer. Once human werecreatures, ones that were turned by an original lost their human form all together, while originals usually preferred their animal or were-forms; something about ancient rules that not many still understood but were for some reason compelled to follow. He had also been told that some originals never learned how to veer and basically had no human form at all.
His partner looked up from his most recent experiment, the hapless creature was lucky enough to be long dead by now. Honey gold eyes appraised the larger man with a calculating gaze before the scientist shrugged and went back to his work. He held little doubt that Kenpachi would drag himself back, torn and bloodied again by morning. It made little difference in any case.
The giant of a man belted his jagged, worn sword to his hip, loosening it in it's sheath for easy access incase if it was needed. Not bothering to cover his newly stitched up torso with a shirt, he grabbed his long coat from the back of the chair and slung it over his broad shoulders, drawing it tight about his large figure to hide his sword and his bared upper body.
"Kenpachi." The man turned around to face his partner. A small vile was thrown his way and he easily snatched it out of the air before it could sail passed him and shatter on the wall or floor. Holding it up level with his face, Kenpachi nodded to his partner; a silent gesture of gratitude for the small amount of liquified silver. It wasn't much, but even just touching it could kill a werewolf and it would be more than enough to deter the monsters from stabbing him in the back.
Kenpachi tucked the vile away and turned to ascend the stairs. He nodded to the shop keeper, ignoring the short, dark haired customer wandering aimlessly down the aisles that had turned large eyes on him and left the small store, disappearing into the darkened village.
Urahara beamed at the brutish man as he left, waving cheerfully and bidding him a good night. Of course he knew the man was being called upon, he could tell the difference between a werewolf howl and a natural wolf howl, even if it was nearly inaudible in how quiet the call had been.
The shopkeeper turned back to his store. A young man roamed the shelves of ammo, a boy, presumably the man's son followed close behind. But it was a petite woman that held his attention, not that he let it show, as his eyes were hidden in shadow below the brim of his hat.
She had been there once before, her and a man. Her larger, red haired companion wasn't there this time. They had already purchased hand guns and silver ammo, something the citizens didn't do often. True, almost every house hold owned some type of gun for protection and hunting, but few bothered with silver anymore. If he was correct, she carried her weapon with her while she wandered his shop at the moment, looking as if she knew she wouldn't find what she wanted out in the open.
The small woman disappeared from the shop, following a few minutes after Kenpachi had left. Urahara watched her turn in the same direction as the bigger man and smiled to himself. Maybe they would soon have a new business partner.
Candy...guns/silver... Practically the same thing ^.^
on a side note. If you're just going to complain about Grimmjow bottoming, please don't. He's injured and his body wouldn't have been able to handle the extra strain. Also, it's hot when dominate guys get dominated ^_~
Anyway~ What do you think about the chapter? Still enjoying the story? Let me know~!