Welp. Take me away to Horny Jail.
This will probably be the one and only smut fic I ever write
Grimmjow wasn't used to feeling nervous.
He lived his life antithetical to anxiety.
Sure, being a hollow meant that primal fear was lurking in the back of his consciousness at all times, but fear and nervousness weren't really the same thing. There wasn't even a real reason for him to be so high strung. But standing in Kurosaki's small and annoyingly dometic room, Grimmjow didn't know he got into this situation.
Well... that wasn't quite true.
It was all because of that dumb stupid challenge he laid out on that dumb stupid night a year and a half ago.
The night of Kurosaki's twenty-second birthday would forever be seared into the arrancar's memory for all of eternity. It was a pitiful gathering of Kurosaki's friends at Urahara's shop that Grimmjow had been not-so-subtly coerced into taking part of. And, because it apparently needed to be a Yoruichi-Approved Party, there was booze.
A lot of booze.
Kurosaki, the orange haired lightweight, had gotten absolutely hammered. Turns out that a drunk Kurosaki was a flirty Kurosaki. An almost aggressively flirty Kurosaki. And Grimmjow, in his slightly tipsy state, had been an idiot who hadn't realized Kurosaki's drunk flirting was just the inhibitions being pulled away from his normal flirting; which he had apparently been doing. For a while. Whatever, it's not like Grimmjow had any experience with human courting rituals.
The shinigami had practically thrown himself onto Grimmjow the moment they had the room alone. It wasn't that Grimmjow wasn't interested, but Kurosaki was obviously in a dominating mood and Grimmjow wasn't about to spread his legs without precedent.
"What're we s'possed to do then?" Kurosaki had slurred, still clinging to Grimmjow's shirt.
"Fight, of course." Obviously. "meter it out with blood and swords. Winner takes all." That was just how the world of hollows worked.
It took Kurosaki an uncomfortably short time to think before he nodded and said, "A'ight."
Unfortunately, Kurosaki was far too out of it to fight. Double-unfortunate was the fact that he had remembered the exchange that had taken place in his inebriated state. Triple-unfortunate was the fact that he was still interested.
So they fought. Grimmjow managed to eek out a victory and claimed his carnal reward.
That should have been it. A one-and-done occurrence. Grimmjow: one; Kurosaki: zero. Except, the shinigami kept pressuring him for more. Again and again. Enough that Grimmjow had long since stopped keeping score.
Not all of their sparring sessions led to sex. Sometimes a good fight was fulfilling enough as-is. But every so often, Kurosaki would have that look in his eyes. The look that told Grimmjow that they were both in for some deliciously violent foreplay.
It had been a while since their last challenge, so when Ichigo strode into the underground training bunker with his eyes alight in playful fire, Grimmjow was the furthest thing from surprised. The fight had been vicious and bloody, exactly what his instincts craved. He had been winning, until Kurosaki had done... something... changed somehow. The fight ended with Grimmjow pinned to the ground with claws in his stomach and teeth on his throat.
Said instincts gave another twist at the memory and he told his brain to shut up. It wasn't like he had never lost and ended up on bottom before. He knew what to expect when it came to dealing with Kurosaki.
The creature standing in front of him, however, wasn't Kurosaki; no matter how alike they looked.
"So we gonna do this, or are you just gonna stare? I didn't fight my way out just to be looked at." the hollow possessing Kurosaki narrowed his gold-black eyes with a dangerous smirk. Hunger and lust mixing into one.
Grimmjow felt his nonexistent heart give a phantom flutter of emotion. It had been so long since he had been looked at as an equal by another hollow. No, that wasn't quite right. Shiro wasn't facing him as an equal, he was sizing him up as prey. Not even Kurosaki could pull off that very real edge of danger. The shinigami was too soft. Too human. Coming from any other hollow, that look would have been insulting, a disrespectful slap in the face of Grimmjow's pride. But it felt... different coming from Shiro. Exciting.
"Oh come on, chill out. Enjoy taking in your eyeful while you can, Hollow." It felt strange using his own affiliation as semi-insult, but one of Grimmjow's many talents was figuring out how to rile other people up. Refusing to call Shiro by either of his stated names was a hilariously easy button to push. Calling him "Ichigo" was another one, though that was more likely to result in an angry cero to Grimmjow's face.
Sure enough, Shiro's grin twisted into a sneer. "You keep me waiting like this for much longer and I'll tear your throat out."
Ever the antagonist, Grimmjow pushed more. "Ooh. Impatient. Guess I'd be too if I was locked up all the time and then got a chance to have some fun with someone like me. I can't imagine you've had a good fuck in a while.
"Oh please." Shiro rolled his eyes, "Are you forgetting who I share a body with?
As if Grimmjow could forget. Wait. Did that mean that he and Kurosaki...?
The other hollow impatiently stripped off his clothes, showing none of the reservations his other half sometimes had. Getting right down to business before the buzz from the fight wore off. For all his taunting, Grimmjow could respect that. He peeled his own battle-worn outfit off. His own blue eyes swept over Shiro blandly. He had seen Kurosaki naked enough. Mapped out every one of his freckles. The thrill was long gone, replaced with an odd sort of comfort. Shiro, on the other hand, was doing nothing to hide his blatant interest. Gold eyes languidly raked up the lines and angles of Grimmjow's form.
Grimmjow smirked, leaning back to accentuate the sharp cut of his hip. "Like what you see?"
"Wouldn't be here if I didn't." Shiro purred. He crossed the room in two strides, forcing himself into Grimmjow's space, sharp teeth closing on his jugular. A reminder that he lost the prior fight. Grimmjow growled out a defiant warning. "You got a smart mouth there." Shiro spoke into the soft skin beneath his ear. Deft fingers traced the scar along Grimmjow's front— the mark that Shiro put there— up his neck and gabbed a fistful of blue hair. Shiro's stiffening member nudged against his leg and Grimmjow felt his own length responding in kind.
"I think I got a better use for it."
Grimmjow let out an involuntary hiss as Shiro tugged harshly on his hair. The pain was minimal, but the maneuver landed Grimmjow on his knees in front of the smaller man. Any words that he planned on saying had to be choked back as all five and a half inches of Kurosaki's cock was shoved down his throat. Grimmjow gagged. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. A thin strand of spit dripped down his chin. He glared up at Shiro, who was looking smugly satisfied.
"That's better."
It was only when Grimmjow tensed his jaw with the threat of a bite that Shiro backed up and allowed him to breathe. "B-bastard..." Grimmjow muttered, wiping his mouth.
His taunts only spurred on the hollow. The hand gripping his hair tighter was Grimmjow's single warning before he was being mercilessly face-fucked.
Grimmjow's throat burned, his mouth felt hot and saliva flowed from his lips freely. His pride hurt almost as much as jaw did. Shiro started to lose his rhythm, thrusts becoming more erratic as he drew close to his climax. Instinct relaxed Grimmjow's throat as two hands in his hair pulled him forward, once again shoving the cock deep. Hot cum pumped down his throat as his tongue lapped against the pulsing flesh.
"Haa... haa... shit..." Shiro panted, "fuck you're good at that. No wonder King likes you so much."
The hands relaxed their grip and Grimmjow sat back, gasping in breath. "Shut up. " He tried his hardest to ignore his own throbbing erection. Reciprocation was not an expectation when it came to hollows. He'd have to take care of that for himself probably. Grimmjow's thoughts were cut short as Shiro leaned forward, lips closing over Grimmjow's pulse point once again. A new surge of pleasure pooled in his aching groin. "Hnnnn, what are you—!?"
Shiro smiled against the sweat-slicked skin, "What, did you think I was finished?"
Grimmjow growled, he wasn't sure what he thought. The prospect of more was thrilling in a daunting way. Shiro was intense and domineering in a way that Kurosaki never was. The shinigami was soft and caring, taking care that they both got equal attention. The arrancar was only just realizing how much he had been craving the familiar harshness of another strong hollow. Someone who wouldn't treat him like glass. Someone who could bend him just shy of breaking. Teeth scraping along corded muscle gave him just what he wanted, and heralded what glorious sensations were to come. It was surprising to feel the tip of a budding erection brush against his thigh as Shiro continued his exploration.
"High speed regeneration is useful for more than just re-growing limbs, you know." Shiro responded to the unasked question.
With a shove, Grimmjow was pushed towards the bed, landing ungracefully on the bundle of sheets. "So, finally gonna fuck me for real now?"
Shiro crawled on top of him, gripping Grimmjow's chin. His voice was dangerously quiet, "Careful..." A thumb brushed across a slightly-swollen lip, "or I might need to shut you up again."
Grimmjow's jaw closed with a click of teeth. his member was painfully hard, demanding attention. Herefrained from touching it until Shiro said he could. If Shiro said he could. That was the price of losing. Still, he needed more. Complying was the easiest way to get what he wanted. The only other option was to beg, and he would rather cut off his left arm again than resort to that.
In a single motion, Grimmjow was flipped onto his stomach, face pressed into the pillow that smelled so much like Kurosaki that he momentarily forgot who he was really in the room with. Sharp nails dragging down his arched back served as a quick reminder. Rough hands grabbed and angled his hips up, further arching his back. The tantalizing heat of Shiro's dick sliding between his cheeks was absolutely sinful. It wasn't nearly enough stimulation, but it would keep him mostly placid. For now.
"Hey," Shiro paused his movements, "Ichigo keep lube on hand anywhere?"
It took a moment for Grimmjow to process the question, too distracted by the maddening loss of friction. "Bottom drawer on the left." He motioned vaguely to the bedside dresser.
Shiro took a moment to nod to himself, considering. "Good to know."
And then he thrusted in dry.
A strangled curse escaped Grimmjow's throat at the sudden intrusion. The pleasure-pain sending a jolt of electricity straight through him in all the best ways. Fingers curled into fists, blunt nails tangled in the bedsheets. Shiro bent over him, one hand placed on the back of his neck, the other on his lower back. He barely gave Grimmjow a second to acclimate before beginning his movements.
Shiro's pace was fast and harsh, pounding into the arrancar without mercy. Hisses and broken, half-spoken curses spilling forth with each push forward. "Ngh... S-shit... Grimmjow— fuuuck—"
Grimmjow bit his lip to hold back a moan. The burn from the friction was like nothing he had ever felt. It still wasn't enough! With a snarl, he bucked backwards, forcing Shiro's length deeper. Stars burst behind his eyes and a tremble ran through him as the thrusting beat against his prostate. Again and again and again. Slowly pulling him undone. Dragging him beneath the waves of mindless pleasure. Breathing heavily, he couldn't hold back a lust-filled whine.
Taking the noise as a cue, Shiro changed their positions. The hand on Grimmjow's neck wrapped around, working in tandem with the grip on his hip to pull him into a kneeling position, back pressed flush to Shiro's chest. Still continuing his punishing pace. Shiro stuck two fingers into Grimmjow's mouth, pressing down on his tongue. His other hand trailed down the scar to finally— finally— wrap long fingers around Grimmjow's aching cock.
Grimmjow's breath hitched as he fought against the orgasm that threatened to crash over him from that simple touch.
Shiro's movements became more erratic, hips snapping forward in stuttering bursts as he chased his own climax. His hand worked short, quick strokes along Grimmjow's dick as he thrusted, pushing both of them towards that invisible edge.
For all his pride, Grimmjow was beyond coherent. The sensations were all too much too much too much he needed to cum—
A few more sharp thrusts and Shiro was gone, biting down on the neck in front of him as he climaxed.
The bite set off Grimmjow as well, following Shiro's release not a second later. Out of breath and beyond spent, he gave a few half-hearted thrusts into the hand still wrapped around his length, savoring the echoes of pleasure.
Shiro withdrew, flopping back in a heap to catch his breath. Grimmjow himself felt like he was about to melt into a boneless pile.
"Ah... guess I should get going." Shiro said slowly, voice slurred with heady emotions, "That was fun. We should do this again sometime, Kitten." He flashed a grin, not giving Grimmjow a chance to protest the new nickname before black and gold eyes were bleeding back to white and brown.
Kurosaki blinked a few times, bringing a hand to rub at his temple. "Shit Shiro..." He muttered, body still probably reeling with all the post-orgasm feelings. His attention drew to Grimmjow with a shy wince. "H-hey, you... uh you okay?"
Grimmjow didn't know if he could get his mouth to work right so he settled on rolling his eyes. Of course I'm okay.
Brown eyes trailed down Grimmjow's form, concern replacing the burning lust that had been there before. They settled somewhere on his right shoulder. "Oh shit, you're bleeding."
Grimmjow tracked his line of sight, noting the splattering of red coming from a very distinct bite wound at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Kurosaki seemed to recognize the shape of the wound a moment later, a pink tongue darted out to swipe along his lip; his eyes flickered gold for a second, a short flare of dark emotion rearing its head again. Kurosaki squashed it down, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away. "S-sorry, I..."
"Don't you dare!" Grimmjow snapped. Ah, there was his voice. "Don't you fuckin' dare apologize."
Taken aback, Ichigo scowled. "At least let me bandage it up so you don't get blood all over my covers."
"...Fine." Patching up the wound only took a moment. When Kurosaki was done, he flopped down next to Grimmjow, muttering a squick "Move over," and slinging an arm across his chest.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes again, "You and your stupid cuddling. I'm fine."
"It's called aftercare, you idiot, and it's important!"
A sigh, "Whatever." It was useless to fight against it. He begrudgingly relaxed into the lingering ache in his body that thrummed along with the beat of his heart. Kurosaki's fingers trailed soothingly along his bandaged shoulder. Another mark from Kurosaki and his hollow. Another claim of ownership. A sharp grin flashed across his features.
He'd have to make sure repay the hollow next time.