Here is another chapter. Don't worry, there's more to come. Sorry it's taking so long. I had some major rewriting to do.
Wasn't happy with the original. Blame "Listen".
X alive x but x dying x made me rethink the speed of these chapters. Although it didn't slow me down much. *smiles happily and shrugs*

x

Junichiblue

Chapter Twenty One: Battlefield

One by one the city lights flickered on as dusk descended upon Karakura, and the night time crowds moved through the busy downtown streets. But up in the quiet suburbs, away from all the noise of the city, and shielded from the eyes of the afterlife, two warriors stepped warily onto a battlefield that both were equally unfamiliar with.

Grimmjow smiled internally in triumphant delight.

He finally had Kurosaki right where he wanted him.

The Espada was loathe to pull away from the warm mouth and that hot body that lay so willingly underneath him, but he couldn't rest his full weight down on the Shinigami for long, and his stomach muscles were protesting against the work they were doing. Instead, Grimmjow released him just long enough to take a breath before running his tongue along Ichigo's reddened lips and whispering a command.

"Mmmm, get up."

Curious despite himself and fast becoming lust addled, Ichigo obeyed. Grimmjow suppressed a hiss of pain as he stood carefully, breaking off the kiss and dragging Ichigo up with him.

"Uh- Oy. You should lie back down." There was that concern again.

"Been lying down for two days, dumb bitch," the bluenet replied around a tongue-full of Ichigo's mouth.

"God, you're such an asshole," the teen muttered as he pulled away, a glimmer of challenge back in his eyes. "Tell me what it is that I see in you again."

"Heh. You trying to seduce me?"

"Keh. Other way round."

"Che. As if."

The Espada was never one to beat around the bush. You didn't get what you didn't ask for, or take. He stepped back and looked pointedly at Ichigo's top, and in response the teen quickly shucked out of his shihakusho, feeling the cool air of the room wash over his skin.

And then they just stood there, exposed from the waste up, each just gazing at the flesh of the other for a long moment. Too long for Ichigo. This was retarded. A second ago all he wanted was to melt against Grimmjow and now he felt kind of stupid. This was too awkward. Nothing between them was ever easy, and Ichigo didn't know what he was supposed to do here. He'd never been with anybody before. Well, except for Grimmjow. But Ichigo hadn't even done anything then. It had all been Grimmjow.

And now Ichigo was supposed to do what exactly? Anything he wanted? Would it be fair game to just run his hands through that unruly blue hair or plaster himself against that chiseled chest and plunge his fist into that black nothingness just to see what, if anything, was inside? Because he rather wanted to.

It was Grimmjow who came to life first, abruptly putting and end to Ichigo's aberrant burst of self doubt, as his eyes and hands began roaming freely, ghosting over Ichigo's chest, neck, arms, and stomach, anywhere he could see skin. After a small moment of indecision, Ichigo began to do the same. He was hesitant at first, because touching the bits of Grimmjow's bare skin that weren't covered in bandages, and pressing against his chest and crescent stomach with his hands was so very new. It was almost frightening in its intensity, in the way it made him feel.

Ichigo swallowed hard and ran a finger lightly over the stained dressings, down the path where that familiar scar that ran down the centre of Grimmjow's chest would have been, and traced a line curiously around the un-bandaged edges his Hollow hole. Grimmjow growled, and Ichigo's eyes flew up, an apology balanced on his lips. But Grimmjow's eyes were closed, his head fallen back, leaving his throat exposed.

Exposed.

Ichigo's pulse quickened, and instead he leaned up and mouthed the front of his neck, pressing his teeth against the skin. He could feel the deep pulsing of his blood and the vibration against his lips as Grimmjow growled again. Ichigo was amazed. The way it rumbled inside his throat made it sound like he was purring. He was so fucking turned on by that sound. And he wanted to tell him that, tell him everything he felt, but Ichigo had simply lost the ability to speak. Finding his voice seemed almost as impossible as this whole situation.

The creature in front of him, so clearly fascinated with just touching him now, in places so sensitive and personal, had evolved in a way that Ichigo would never have believed, had he not been standing at the centre of that change. Ichigo no longer saw just the cold, bloodthirsty Espada of yesterday, the enemy who had sired such a profound hate in him that he'd had to spit his name out just to get it past his lips. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. He was still all of that, but so much more now. Somewhere in the slim space between all the chaos, the savage fighting, the curious peace and the unbearable threat of loss, he had become Grimmjow. And not just Grimmjow, but Grim.

Time must have skipped ahead because suddenly Grim was reaching down between them and releasing his white hakama. They pooled on the floor at his feet and he took a small step back, giving Ichigo one short moment to stare in awe at the full view of an exquisitely naked, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the state of his arousal as impressive and commanding as the man it belonged to.

Ichigo forgot himself completely as he let his eyes rake up and down the bluenet. He stared almost indecently at his sculpted body, built for sin, before the Sexta sank carefully down onto his knees in front of Ichigo.

He gasped as Grimmjow ran his sword roughened hands over his sides and across his lower back, pressing his fingers into that same sweet spot from before. The sensation caused him to involuntarily jerk his hips forward, and he nearly choked as the Sexta began to lave wet trails with his tongue, and place gentle little bite marks across Ichigo's navel.

In this moment, Grimmjow was the worshipper and Ichigo was his temple. The young Shinigami was moaning above him, probably unaware that he was keening and mewling loudly in enjoyment and growing frustration.

Grimmjow purred as he licked his way along one side of Ichigo's taught navel to the other, his tongue dipping once, twice, just beneath the black material, the last layer of clothing the Shinigami possessed.

Ichigo had filled out since Grimmjow had started sparring with him. Now his muscles were hard and cut, the ridges of his abs defined all the way down. The Espada wanted to lick his way along the arrowed muscles that guided his eyes down towards those hips and to what lay stiff and warm beneath the black material of his hakamas.

The heady scent of Ichigo's lust filled his nose, and only a thin layer of material separated him from the source of that pleasant smell. Something Grimmjow wanted to cradle in his hands again if for no other reason that too drag out more of those whimpering sounds from the Shinigami, ones that begged Grimmjow to attack his body and take it over. He wanted to listen to him whine as his composure crumbled and he collapsed under Grimmjow's touch, a touch that was gentle enough not to kill, yet so obscenely powerful, that Ichigo had no way to fight it. Grimmjow had never known that kind of power existed, and now Ichigo actually wanted him to wield it against him. His dick jumped at the thought.

When the bluenet growled and pulled away, Ichigo let an inquisitive and unintentionally plaintive sound escape him. The Espada answered with a grunt, and without any polite warning, Grimmjow tugged at Ichigo's sash. With a soft rustle, his black hakama fell away.

Ichigo fell silent. He couldn't breath. He was naked and exposed in front of the Sexta Espada. Again. And wildly aroused.

They'd been more than just enemies. Biter rivals. Nemeses.

Grimmjow had been hell bent on killing Ichigo, and Ichigo had tried his damnedest to the destroy the murderous Hollow. And now here he was, with his pants down and his dick hard, and his stomach in one big knot of nervous adrenaline and bucking hormones.

And Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, former Sexta Espada of Aizen's army was at his feet with his hands on his hips, his mouth open, and a hungry look in his blue eyes. The eyes that had become so brightly illuminated from the inside.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh. God. Yes.

In the back of his mind, he was sure stranger things had happened to him, though he couldn't seem to think of a single one right now, or anything at all for that matter. All he knew was that he wanted to feel that hand there again, to be cradled in that hand, captured inside that tight fist and surrounded by those strong, gripping fingers.

Grimmjow let his eyes fall down onto Ichigo's stiff member, then glanced up to meet brown eyes, darkened with lust, his mouth hanging open. The kid didn't look to be breathing.

Wait. Did he want him to...?

The Espada was suddenly unsure. He'd wrapped his mouth around a lot of things before, but another man's dick wasn't one of them. But this wasn't just a man. This was Kurosaki fucking Ichigo, and Grimmjow wanted to taste him, every part of him. He wanted to scratch and claw and bite and suck and taste everything the Shinigami had to give.

Pantera had tasted the Shinigami's flesh many times. Now it was Grimmjow's turn. He wanted to know him, explore each rise and dip and curve of his muscles, map out his body with his mouth and tongue.

Grimmjow leaned forward. And Ichigo almost bit his own tongue off.

The Espada had taken him in one smooth motion, wet heat engulfing his engorged member, sharp teeth dragging with the greatest of care over the taught skin and subtle ridges of his erection, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, before plunging back down to the base. Ichigo fought not to close his eyes as bright blue hair bobbed slowly back and forth.

"Ughnnn," he said. He meant, 'please go faster, harder, more, more, more.'

This was happening so fast. Too fast. Not fast enough. He wanted to reach down and tangle his hands in Grimmjow's hair and just fuck that hot, wet mouth with bucking hips and sharp thrusts until he exploded. Which at this rate, would be any second now.

Grimmjow suddenly stilled, and he heard the gasp of disapproval from above. The kid had brought him to his knees. His instincts told him this was a very bad, very dangerous position to be in. It made him want to bolt, not run, but get away.

No. He wasn't just an animal, and his mind knew that his instincts needed to settle the hell down. Grimmjow didn't run. Not from a challenge. Not from anything. And especially not from Kurosaki Ichigo. No. Kurosaki should be running from him. He huffed inside his head. He didn't really like the sound of that either. He didn't want to chase right now. He was done playing with his prey. He wanted to settle down now into a meal, take his time, devour it slowly.

"Grim," came the quiet plea, more of a gasp for air than anything. "Need..."

Not yet. He wanted to keep him suspended in desire, make him suffer in his need. He was going to torture Ichigo, watch him slowly lose that famous Kurosaki control, wind him up, watch him come undone, make him beg. Yeah. That was good. He realized though, with all his best laid plans, that Ichigo was going to take Grimmjow along with him. That was fine too.

Grimmjow released Ichigo's stoney erection with a soft, wet pop. He leaned onto one knee and pushed himself up, careful not to pull on the Shinigami, who's body he could feel quivering beneath his hands. They'd both end up on the floor if he did, and the Espada had spent quite enough time there recently, thank you.

Ichigo panted harshly and tried to regain control, find his brain again. Grimmjow was going to torture him. This was a contest. Good. He didn't want some castrated version of his former rival. He wanted the same fearsome, fiery, cunning, yet oddly predictable sonofabitch that he'd first come across over a year ago.

Well, Ichigo didn't break that easily. He could give as good as he got.

When the Espada finally righted himself, Ichigo snaked both hands behind his neck, a spot the Espada would naturally be wary to protect. It was a play to throw him off balance, within the boundaries of the game. Ichigo pulled him in for a rough kiss, pleased when Grimmjow grunted in surprise before he lashed out at Ichigo with his tongue, tasting of Ichigo's own sex.