Chapter Fifty Three:

Byakuya yawned widely as he began to wake, he felt fantastic. Better than he had for some time. His mind felt rested, his body restored, his energy bubbling beneath the surface. His eyes flashed open as he remembered the reason for his decent sleep and he immediately felt his face flush with heat as he found himself curled up against Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

"Ah, you're awake. About time too." The Sexta seemed unperturbed by his startled reaction as he slowly removed his cramping arms from around the Shinigami and sat up to stretch, "You feelin' okay?"

"Yes." He said stiffly, looking away awkwardly as the guilt of having slept beside someone other than his fiancé scorned him like the fury of a thousand suns.

"Good. You fight feel a bit dizzy when you first get out of bed, that's just the reaction to my reiatsu leavin' your body. Nothin' to worry about." Grimmjow was out of bed and combing his fingers through his rebellious blue hair, "I reckon we should get you cleaned up though... You fell asleep with those fuckin' hair things in again. You know I hate untanglin' them right?"

"Sorry." He muttered, standing gingerly as he adjusted his yukata around his body a little more securely. Byakuya felt some of the dizziness the Arrancar had described, but it wasn't severe and he was easily able to amble towards the en-suite bathroom.

"Ah, whatever. Gives me somethin' to do I guess." The Espada followed him, forcing him to sit on the stool in the corner of the room, "So, last night... Same dream or different one?"

"Same one." Byakuya closed his eyes, feeling the Sexta's fingers working into his hair and slowly unclipping long locks from where they had become tangled and knotted with his kenseikan, "But also different..."

"Oh? What happened?"

His arms folded over his chest as he let the other man work, trying to make himself relax, "I saw Ichigo transform again, relived Shiro's battle with Ulquiorra... But then I saw Ichigo. It was like he was sinking. Drowning. He was trapped in a never ending ocean so dark... He seemed peaceful, like he was asleep but... He still bore the marks of his attack. I tried to reach him, but no matter how close I seemed to get he just sank further."

Grimmjow clicked his tongue against his teeth, placing the hair ornaments on the sink one by one, "Sounds pretty shit. And probably not far from the truth."

"What do you mean?" Steel eyes flickered open, staring up at azure ones.

"Shiro... Sometimes he talks about what it was like after he was first created. He said it was like bein' asleep for years and years, wakin' for fleetin' moments before sinkin' again. He described it like an ocean." There was a small shrug as the man began running a brush through the noble's long locks of hair, "I know you have your master plan... I know we're workin' towards that but..."

"But what?"

"Well... After sparrin' with him I came up with an idea. It's small, kinda awkward and probably wouldn't work." Grimmjow rubbed the segment mask remanent on his face, fingers dipping between the sharp looking teeth, "Shiro seems... Possessive, the jealous type. I wondered if the same could be said of Kurosaki?"

"Ichigo? Jealous? No. Not really... He's..." Eyebrows raised slightly, "Actually... at times he can be incredible jealous. He's very protective of the people he loves."

"That would work then..." Sucking in a breath the Arrancar hesitated uncomfortably, "I remember you sayin' that their emotions worked both ways. What Shiro felt, Kurosaki felt. What Kurosaki felt, Shiro felt. That right?"

"Yes, that is correct. But... Why?"

"Even if Shiro is obsessed with Aizen, and that rubbed off on Kurosaki... There's no way the kid would suddenly stop lovin' you. He came to Hueco Mundo, even knowin' the dangers, just to save you. So... Even if he's asleep, some part of his affection towards you must still be effectin' Shiro." Grimmjow licked his lips, "So... I wonder if jealousy would be enough to make Kurosaki surface."

The Kuchiki heir frowned faintly at the thought, there would be no way of knowing unless they tried but the question was... How would they do that? And would it have the opposite effect, would Ichigo feel betrayed? Isolated? Would he sink even further?

They had to try, Byakuya decided, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well... You probably won't like it... Just promise not to kill me 'cause I have to go meet Szayel in a bit."


The recreation area was the one place aside from the canteen that all the Espada were welcome to use at the same time. It was rare to find more than one or two Espada within its confines at a time, however, as Shiro crossed the threshold he was surprised to see not only Nnoitra, but Grimmjow and Szayel as well. What was more than a little suspicious was the fact they were all sat rather close and clearly in deep conversation about something.

A brief glance around the white washed room revealed a collection of bookshelves, comfortable sofas and chairs, coffee tables, tea and snack making facilities, World of the Living style exercise equipment and what looked like an antique vinyl.

He couldn't help but notice that the hushed whispering of the Espada was silenced by his arrival, he chose to ignore it for the time being and instead stomped over to the bookshelves. He allowed a finger to trail across the many battered spines of the wide collection of novels, searching for something of interest.

"Yo Cero," Grimmjow's voice caught his attention and gold eyes flicked over to the three Espada, "Is it true you attacked Barragan yesterday?"

"Yes." He said, his tone reeking of boredom, "Although, I think it's more accurate to say he attacked me first, I simply reacted in self defence."

"See Szayel, I told you Starrk wasn't bullshittin' us." Blue eyes rolled dramatically, "You busted his nose pretty good. He's had it comin' for a while though."

"Mm, I got that impression too." Shiro sighed deeply, plucking a book free and taking it to one of the chairs nearby to the other three Espada, "Wanted me to call him 'majesty' believe it or not."

"What, really?" Szayel turned in his seat to look over.

"Yeah, apparently he was pissed that I hadn't gone to introduce myself to him like I did with the rest of ya." A shrug, "He didn't take rejection well."

Nnoitra laughed loudly at that, snorting as he got to his feet and strode over, leaning over against the back of Shiro's chair as he looked at the book he was reading, "I heard some interestin' news too about yesterday. Apparently, ya were sparrin' with Aizen-sama in his private trainin' arena."

"What about it?" Shiro flopped his head back so he could stare up at the Quinto.

"Well... How was it?" He asked as if it was obvious.

Frowning faintly, the albino cocked his head to one side, "Like any other trainin' session. Why, what do ya think it was like?"

Tutting loudly, Nnoitra pushed away and folded his arms. Szayel took the opportunity to slide from his seat and perched on the arm of the albino's chair instead.

"Our dear Quinto is asking, and making a right royal mess of it if I might add, whether or not your sparring session was extra-curricular." Whiskey eyes met gold ones, a smug smile stretched across thin lips, "Basically, Nnoitra wants to know if-"

"We fucked?" Shiro interrupted, his grin returning as he giggled, "Seriously? That's what ya really wanna know?"

"No one else around here gets special sparrin' privileges with him." The Quinto muttered, huffing.

"Sorry, I don't kiss and tell." He crossed one leg over the other and turned the next page of his book.

"Maybe you lost some of that famous sex drive when you took over from Kurosaki." Grimmjow had one eyebrow raised teasingly as he looked over.

"Excuse me? Famous sex drive?" Szayel fluttered his eyelashes, expecting an explanation.

"Mm, Kurosaki was a sex addict in the Academy, probably didn't realise it himself. But accordin' to Gin... When he joined Division Five under Aizen they had a rule that the only person Kurosaki was allowed to fuck was Aizen." There was a toothy grin and a low chuckle, "Accordin' to Gin, Kurosaki used to go for hours. Guess you lost that in the cross over, eh, Shiro?"

Shiro scowled at the Sexta venomously, "No, I did not lose it. If any of ya were worth fuckin' ya would probably have found that out by now."

"Oh, that hurts. That hurts real bad." Nnoitra held his chest and shook his head, "I didn't have ya down as bitchy."

"Mm." Grimmjow's smirk quirked upwards, "Maybe my memories of Shino are skewed then, eh?"

Shiro's eyes narrowed. They'd never spoken about it. Even after he'd remembered their fling after awakening, he assumed it was because Grimmjow didn't want Aizen to kill him for touching what was his, and well... Shiro didn't normally go back for sloppy seconds, neither did Ichigo.

Rolling his eyes in a huff, eager to stop Szayel or Nnoitra exploring Grimmjow's jibe, the albino snapped his book shut, "We kissed, alright? Nothin' else happened because Barragan interrupted."

"No wonder you attacked him." Grimmjow scoffed, "So, tell me... And don't take this the wrong way..."

"What is it?" Shiro glared.

"Well, if your goin' after Aizen and you wanna pick up where things left off... You won't mind if I make a move on Kuchiki, will you?"

"What?!" Nnoitra and Szayel exclaimed in unison.

"Ya... Want to fuck him?" The Cero's eyebrows had almost disappeared under his hair.

"Well, he's a pretty face and I always was interested back when I was spyin' in Soul Society. Try everythin' once, that's my motto. And I've never fucked a Shinigami, not a real one anyway." Grimmjow got to his feet slowly, prowling towards their little gathering, "Come on... He's fuckin' hot for a Shinigami. That cold steel glare... The high cheekbones... And I mean, being his guardian I've been fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of that tight ass and... Man, who could resist?"

Shiro was painfully aware of the stares currently fixed on his face, waiting for some kind of reaction. He was also aware of the discomfort churning in his gut at the idea of someone, anyone touching Byakuya. But that was ridiculous. He didn't care for Byakuya. He didn't love him. He didn't want him. That was in the past, that had been Ichigo's influence. Not his... Not his.

"Do what ya want with him. It's no concern of mine." He was glad that his voice came out even, "I appreciate ya askin' first though. Those are some fine manners ya got there."

"Well, you know what they say... No quality of fuck is worth gettin' your mask ripped off for."

Tongue clicking against his teeth, Shiro met the blue gaze of the Sexta. There was something there, something in those eyes that was calling out to him. Challenging him. It was as if Grimmjow wanted to see a rise out of him. Wanted to see some kind of reaction. Wanted to see him fall. Instead of rising to it, the albino got up quite suddenly and slung an arm around the blue haired Espada's shoulders, pulling him close.

"Too true, Grimmjow, too true." He tapped his index finger against the jawbone structure on the Sexta's face, "Tell ya what, for the sake of old times... If ya really wanna know what will get him squirmin' make sure ya lick the scars on his shoulder and stomach. They're sensitive beyond anythin' ya can imagine. He'll be putty in yer hands."

"Thanks for the hint, I'll be sure to have him beggin' at my feet before the day's out." Grimmjow smirked back at him widely, "Always an excitin' thought, addin' another notch to my bed post."

"Tch." Szayel folded his arms, "I fear I have grown rather bored of this conversation, gentlemen. I'll be retiring to my laboratory."

Shiro watched as the pink haired Espada stalked from the recreation room, "Huh, I think he fancies a bit of you himself, Sexta."

"Nothin' he hasn't had before." Nnoitra teased.

"Shut up." Blue eyes narrowed moodily.

"Really? Ya had Szayel?" The albino Hollow chuckled throatily, "Ya sure do pick 'em."

"It was a long time ago." Grimmjow muttered, "And I wouldn't knock it till you've tried it, he was damn good in bed. Up for practically anythin'."

"Much like our sweet Cero then." Nnoitra winked at Shiro.

"If ya were worth my time, ya would find out just how good I can be." The albino grinned widely, "But ya ain't worth my time, Nnoitra. Ya ain't even worth the shackles ya would need to tame me."

Nnoitra looked aghast at the insult while Grimmjow was reduced to a fit of cackling laughter. Shiro folded his arms smugly across his chest and raised an eyebrow at the two men.

"Alright, alright... I'll take that blow to my pride." The Quinto shook his head slowly, "But ya gotta dish the dirt... Is there anyone apart from Aizen that catches your eye? Anyone at all?"

"I never realised ya were such a gossip!" Shiro snorted, "If ya ever beat me in a sparrin' session I'll tell ya. Until then, I guess ya will have to use yer imagination."

"That's so cruel, don't tease me like that." The lanky Espada sighed deeply, "Ugh, but speakin' of sparrin'... Tesra was pesterin' me to join him today. If I don't head off soon he'll only come and find me, pretentious little shit that he is."

"Don't let us keep you." Grimmjow sneered, watching as Nnoitra headed for the exit.

"Let me know how it goes with Kuchiki, and don't leave out the good bits." The Quinto stuck his long tongue out before disappearing from their sights.

Shiro turned his attention to the Sexta Espada curiously, he'd never pictured Grimmjow to be the kind of person to screw a Shinigami. But then again, he hadn't expected to be that kind of person either. Sighing, the Cero returned his book to the shelf and stretched restlessly.

"I'll be goin'. Got some shit to take care of." He paused by the door, hand resting on the frame as a small frown creased his brow, "Grimmjow?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't hurt him." He wasn't sure where the words had come from, but they escaped him without warning. He wanted to kick himself for it, but instead he simply held his head a little higher and returned to his room in a crackle of Sonido.

The key turned in the lock, sandals were kicked across the room, the albino flopped down on the couch and stared at the wall in front of him. His smile faded and gave way to a fully formed scowl. He felt restless, felt agitated. There was still a niggling discomfort in the back of his skull, a tickling scratch he couldn't get rid of. Grimmjow was going to fuck Byakuya. What if the nobleman didn't want that? Would Grimmjow assault him, just as Ulquiorra had assaulted Ichigo? Would he take what he wanted, without a care about the nobleman's wishes?

Worse... What if it was what Byakuya wanted? What if he'd given up on Ichigo completely? Decided to move on and start over again... What if Grimmjow was his choice of a new lover? Grimmjow of all people. Destructive, crude, brash, disrespectful...

"Just like Ichigo... Just like me." He said aloud, flinching at his own voice.

His feet were tapping on the floor, fingers drumming on his thighs. He could feel Grimmjow's reiatsu moving down the hallway, returning to his private quarters. Byakuya was in that room, he knew that. How long would it take the Sexta to start his seduction?

"Fuck!" Shiro was on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the couch, "Fuck him. Fuck them. Fuck it! FUCK!"

His hands were shaking at his sides, chest tight as he sucked in hesitant breaths. Rage was boiling just beneath the surface... But why? Why was he so enraged at the idea of Grimmjow and Byakuya? He wanted Aizen. He wanted only Aizen. It was what his heart and head had craved for so many years. Byakuya had only ever been Ichigo's plaything... Not his... He didn't want him... He didn't care... He... He...

Freezing on the spot, the albino swallowed hard as he stared out of the balcony doors, watching as great gusts of sand were lifted and thrown by the tremulous winds outside of Las Noches. He could hear drumming inside his head, loud obnoxious drums, the sound of blood rushing. Fear. Crushing, stabbing fear.

Staggering into the bathroom, the door banged loudly against the wall as he almost fell to his knees. His hands flew out and grabbed the sink, his chest banging against the ceramic painfully as the breath was knocked from his lungs. Pulling himself up, Shiro stared at himself in the mirror and let out a choked gasp.

Black was peeling away, shrinking back as pure white threatened to take over his sclera. The snowy roots of his hair were bleeding orange in thin wispy streaks that made him retch in disbelief.

'No... I will not... Lose control like... This... I won't let ya... I won't let... Stop it. Stop it! STOP!' He brought his hands up, gripping fistfuls of his hair as he released a loud roar of anger, reiatsu spiralling upwards in an uncontrollable torrent, shattering the mirror and the glass partition of the shower in the same moment.


Byakuya looked up from his book as the door slammed shut and Grimmjow appeared in the bedroom doorway, he could see from the look on his face that his plan had gone as expected. The thought brought a twang of anxiety to his gut, but he was determined to follow through with it if there was even the slightest chance it could rouse Ichigo's dormant Soul.

"He took the bait." The Sexta said gruffly, "Seemed calm as fuck, but somethin' definitely changed."

"I see." The Kuchiki heir rose from the bed slowly and closed his book, placing it carefully on the bedside table, "How long do we have?"

"Hard to say... It should be eatin' at him now. I guess it just depends on how badly he reacts..." Grimmjow seemed tense, taking cautious steps further into the bedroom, "I'm gonna warn ya once, Byakuya... If he bursts in here and it doesn't go to plan you might end up painted a pretty decent shade of red."

"I didn't have you down as the nervous type, Grimmjow." The noble closed the distance between them, holding his head high, "I have faith that at the very least we may make Shiro stop and think for a short time."

"Mm... I hope so." Blue eyes narrowed as they traced the angular face in front of him, "Are you prepared?"

"I am." Steel eyes burned with determination, "We go as far as we have to."

"Agreed. We'll do... Wait, wait, wait..." Grimmjow suddenly threw a hand through his hair and reddened in the face, "From what I know about Kurosaki, I'm gonna assume you're dominant in bed."

"And how exactly... Would you know that?" Byakuya raised an eyebrow questioningly.

The Espada paused, staring at him for a long and silent moment, "Well... You know what he was like in Shino."

"Oh." His voice was small, surprised. He knew Ichigo had never had any idea that Grimmjow was a Hollow, but he'd never mentioned...

"He doesn't remember." Grimmjow interrupted his trail of thought, "He wasn't exactly... The one in control."

"Shiro..." He sighed and shook his head, "That Hollow..."

"Yeah, tell me about it..."

Byakuya blinked, fighting against the blush threatening to streak across his cheeks, "Regardless, you are quite correct I am the one who usually takes charge. But why?"

"So am I."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Grimmjow's eyes moved in the direction of the swirling mass of Shiro's reiatsu they could feel rising from the Cero Espada's room.

"For Ichigo's sake... I will submit to your lead. But if you breath a word of it to anyone I will end you." The raven haired Shinigami said quietly, his lips sealed in a tight line.

"Deal." The Sexta whispered.

Byakuya gulped harshly as he felt Grimmjow's arm slide around his waist, pulling him closer against his body as his head dipped. He felt lips brushing the line of his throat as fingers threaded in his hair and tipped his head to one side. The noble was reluctant to admit to the scorching heat that rose in response to the nibbling sensation of teeth against his skin, his breath stuttering in his throat as he felt the coldness of the wall against his back. It felt like an eternity since he'd last felt Ichigo's touch, he was raw from it, he hadn't realised just how much he needed it.

The fingers in his hair forced his head back, Grimmjow's lips were forceful against his own. Demanding and dramatic and sure. The heady feeling of arousal had Byakuya forgetting everything else as he wrapped his arms around the Arrancar's shoulders and pulled him closer.

'I will beg for Ichigo's forgiveness,' Byakuya thought as Grimmjow's tongue slipped between his lips, 'I can only hope he understands the lengths I am willing to go to in order to get him back. As he once vowed to do anything to protect his friends, I now find myself doing the same to bring him back to me. It is extreme, and it is cruel... But this is the situation I find myself in. I hope he can understand... I hope he can forgive me...'

Grimmjow's plan had been simple, and yet relied on the complexities of Shiro's fragile co-existence with Ichigo. It relied upon the fact that even when Shiro had been in a state of hibernation, his love for Aizen had continued to colour Ichigo's feelings too. The Sexta's hopes were that even while Ichigo was now slumbering, his love for Byakuya would continue to effect Shiro's feelings too. They had little to no way of being certain, it wasn't something they could test. It was something they just had to do.

If and only if Shiro was still influenced by Ichigo's love for Byakuya, the Sexta believed he would be unable to allow Byakuya to become 'another notch' in Grimmjow's bed post. And perhaps, the jealousy and possessiveness would be enough to dislodge Shiro's dominance. Maybe... Just maybe it would be enough to wake Ichigo from his dormancy.

Byakuya heard a moan, his face flushing as he realised it had come from his own throat. One of his legs was lifted against Grimmjow's waist as the blue haired Arrancar pressed into him, grinding roughly as their lips and tongues continued to tangle and dance heatedly.

He had wanted to slap Grimmjow for his idea when it had first been proposed that morning, but he had stayed his hand and listened. It truly seemed like the Espada was trying to think of a way to help, the way he had explained the plan hadn't been lecherous or perverse. It hadn't felt like Grimmjow was simply trying to get him into bed. It had sounded genuine. And from everything Byakuya had learned about him and his past, he found himself willing to believe in him once again.

There had been the awkward discussion, the acknowledgement that if they went ahead they would both experience perfectly natural physical reactions to each other. Chemistry afflicting their bodies. He had taken strength in the memory of Ichigo's willingness to continue having sex with Aizen to prevent the man realising his emotions had returned. If Ichigo had been willing to do that, even while in the midst of having his entire world turned upside down, how could he refuse to do the same to save him. He couldn't.

Arching as he felt fingers in the sash around his middle, Byakuya let out a soft groan as his shihakusho fell open to reveal the creamy skin of his torso, blemished only by the lingering scars from Shiro's previous attacks on him.

'Even if I can't forgive myself for betraying him, I will never stop doing what I have to in order to keep him safe.'

Byakuya's eyes fluttered open as he felt himself sink into the soft depths of the mattress, he propped himself up on his elbows as he watched Grimmjow discard his short jacket. There was no mistaking that they were both aroused, both flushed and shining with sweat. But there was a seriousness on the Sexta's face, something that told the nobleman that if ever he wanted to stop all he need do was ask. He had expected nothing less from Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. As feral and rabid as he seemed on the outside, he had the heart of an intellectual and a gentleman.

His sash was in Grimmjow's hands and the Espada smirked as he gestured for him to raise his hands. Byakuya's eyebrows twitched toward a scowl, more annoyed by the sudden painful twinge in his groin at the idea of being bound by someone who was meant to be his sworn enemy. He lifted his hands silently and watched as the crimson material was wrapped around them securely, binding his wrists together so he couldn't wriggle free.

He was absolutely never going to admit how arousing it was not to be in control. Never.

Grimmjow was standing at the end of the bed, fingers wrapped around the nobleman's ankles as he dragged him down the bed towards him, leaning over to clash their mouths together again. It roused moans from them both this time.

"Don't forget to lick his scars like I told ya, Grimmjow."

The Shinigami and the Sexta both looked around suddenly, eyes wide as they saw Shiro sat in the chair in the corner of the room. He looked the picture of calm, one leg crossed over the other, fingers linked over his stomach, head tilted to one side like a curious puppy.

But the orange streaks running through his snowy hair, the way black was struggling to maintain dominance across his sclera and the crumbling patches of tanned skin on his face and neck told a very different story.