Disclaimer: I do not own anything of BLEACH and its characters. This is merely my own interpretation of happenings, a work of fun and curiosity.

A/N: If you're wondering why Gin doesn't talk like a thug, that is because the dialect he speaks is supposed to be archaic. It's not slang, kthx. I never liked it when in subs they made him say stuff like 'Ya know what?' It somehow didn't sit well with me.

Story 2 - Intentions

It was never difficult to find him. Not only did the arrancar obnoxiously pick out one of the biggest quarters in the fortress of Las Noches, he also left a rather unmistakable trail of blood behind today.

Gin stooped and brought a long, pale hand out from the sleeve of his haori to brush it against a patch of damp blood then lifted it back to his mouth and sucked it clean slowly. It made a loud smack in the echo of the large halls and he smiled wide and eerie around the taste. He stood again and followed the trail with patient steps.

Then again, it wasn't his fault. Tousen was such a rash kid sometimes. And all that bullshit about justice and a greater deed or goal or whatever. Who really believed that? He was just a sucker for violence and wanted to cover it up with some sparkly fairy tale. But to cut off an arm? That was almost exciting. Almost, because he never liked Tousen one bit and he was also feeling somewhat bad for that hissy kitten.

He stepped into the spacious chamber and the door slid closed behind him quietly. "My, my, little Grimmjow." The man was hardly little. He was even a little bit taller than Gin and looked very snarly at the nickname. "Aaa, you look angry. Like that first time. Well, are you planning to jump on me while missing an arm?" He walked in to seat himself beside the man lounging on his bed. "You look quite trashed up. Aren't you going to do something about those wounds? They look nasty."

"Shut up." Grimmjow growled at once then sulking, added, "Ichimaru-sama."

"Oh, no need." Gin didn't care for things like that. Not right now and not from this person. That was one reason Grimmjow preferred him over the other two. He couldn't smell that disgusting superiority and sense of self-importance from him as from Aizen and Tousen. And those little teases he played on him Grimmjow knew weren't to anger him. They were more like little nips at his person here and there to get a rise out of him, little skirmishes to gain his attention, to make him react. He couldn't say he entirely hated it, either. "Keep that tone for Aizen-han, he's the one who gets off on it."

Grimmjow slowly struggled to sit and winced as more blood seeped from his wounds. "That's a bold tone you've got on you." He muttered. The instinct to lick himself was getting stronger and he grunted quietly. He wasn't an animal!

"Quite." Gin said easily as he stood again. "Now let me see. I've never been quite good at healing kido, mind you. That's Izuru's field of expertise." He wandered off and found stacks of healing material in the room. Aizen-han furnished every of his minions with enough supplies for a war - just to keep up appearances. He picked up some things and returned beside Grimmjow with clean water in a bowl. "Hello again."

"Should you really be doing this? Tousen punished me and now you're helping. What is everyone thinking around here?" Yet Grimmjow didn't shy back from him when he began washing his wounds clean. He gritted his teeth when it stung at places and kept his blue eyes firmly on Gin. "You piss me off." He said, more to see the man's reaction to it than because it was true.

"I do? How so?" Gin asked as he worked. He was very calm about the admission and Grimmjow was only even more roused. The towel in Gin's hand was becoming red with blood.

"What's with you and never opening your eyes? Are you god damn blind or something?" Grimmjow growled, swatting at his hand weakly. He wasn't sure why he wanted Gin to behold his outer appearance. He never wagered he was in fact vain...

"Maybe I am. At least to some things and that is how I like it." Gin pulled his hands back because he was done anyways. He picked out a tube of salve and began rubbing it into the skin at the edge of the wounds.

"What's that supposed to- Shit, that stings!" Grimmjow jerked back and fell onto his elbow. Gin remained leaning towards him with his hand stretched out, fingers covered in the rusty brown substance. There was a tingle in Grimmjow's spine and he quickly arranged his expression into a constant scowl.

"Aren't you a sensitive one?" Gin chuckled and the arrancar grudgingly moved towards his touch again, sitting up to let him finish. When Gin reached his stomach, he squirmed some and his scowl tightened, but he didn't seem like he was going to stop the man. His hips arched once when the fingers traced around his hollow hole and then fell again, the bed creaking quietly. Neither mentioned the motion, however much it gave away.

"This is going to leave you in a bit of a predicament, won't it?" Gin commented as he turned his attention to the stump of his shoulder. "There are a good couple of violent people around you who might want to take advantage of this situation. Not that you aren't very actively violent, but you don't seem as... hm... how to put this?"

"Insane?" Grimmjow asked. Which was true given he thought far more about things than Nnoitra for example, and he was quite proud of that.

He was less growly now as he watched the other man work on his injured body. He was brooding, he couldn't figure out why he was doing this. He was trash now, as Ulquiorra would say. He was practically useless, his strength dropped considerably with the loss of his arm. It pissed him off. But Gin didn't seem to mind.

"Something like that, yes." Gin picked up gauze and began wrapping the man's body. Grimmjow looked away when he reached around him and he groped the bedsheets with his one remaining hand but he allowed it to happen. His touch was cold and strange.

"Have you ever gotten this injured?" Grimmjow asked after a long moment of silence and only clothes rustling. He was quiet now. Unusually so and he couldn't quite look at the other's face.

"Oh, I have a good couple of times." Gin responded as he leant in and brought the gauze around the arrancar's torso. He was very close and Grimmjow resisted the urge to squirm again.

"Talk. Tell me." Grimmjow insisted.

"Hm... I do have time to spare so why not, indeed." Gin gave in after a moment of contemplation. "Well, my first bigger injury was in my academy years. I managed to blow myself up with kido. It was very embarrassing, you can imagine. My reiatsu has always been quite potent so-"

"No, not that. Something in battle." Grimmjow scowled a little deeper, sure he was being teased again, and Gin chuckled. It was a very nice sound for his sensitive ears.

"Alright, alright... I am not very straightforward when it comes to battling, unlike you, but I still managed to get into some quite serious situations..."

Grimmjow slowly let his eyelids slide shut. What was with that tone of voice? He couldn't get enough of hearing it. Always with a little edge to tug at him and he wanted to turn and respond in kind. With little nips here and there until they inevitably devoured each other...! But...

"I was almost fit for the Second Squad - the assassin company, in other words, but the captain there never quite favored me. Yet I was given many missions in which I had to recover missing rebellious Shinigami. Some of these were a hard nut to crack. One of them put a hole much like yours in my stomach. Another managed to cut my hand off. Many of them cut me up or burned me, one almost broke my neck. Unohana-taichou is exceptionally good at fixing things like that though, so I was saved. And besides, I was still very young when all this happened."

Grimmjow snorted and turned his head to look at Gin again. He wasn't as perfectly handsome as Aizen. His nose was too sharp and too long and his mouth too thin. And his eyes were closed. Still perfectly closed. He wanted to lock gazes with him so desperately. "A kid?"

"A kid." Gin nodded, finishing the wrapping of his torso and shoulder. He stepped back and seated himself beside the man again. "Not that it matters a lot. Most children in Soul Society are already adults in mind when they become shinigami."

"Were you?" Grimmjow asked, following the man with his gaze now.

"I'm not sure anymore. I think I was." Gin tucked his slim, cold hands back into the sleeves of his haori. "Most of my memories of the past are buried beneath something very important to me, you see?"

"And you have to be with Aizen to reach your goal." Grimmjow concluded to himself. He wasn't stupid. He knew Gin wasn't with Aizen because he shared his ideals. Who actually shared Aizen's ideals except that stupid bastard Tousen? Nobody wanted a god like that. "That's far better than just fear."

"Fear never kept an animal tame." Gin smiled a wide smile that pulled his thin lips apart and showed his teeth a little. Grimmjow shivered at the sight and shifted about. Every time, it felt like a snake was sliding up his body, coiling carefully around his waist and squeezing his lower stomach into a slow, warm tightness. "I'm sorry. Do I scare you?"

"Hell no." Grimmjow grunted and turned his gaze to the side. Once more, he clenched his hand into the sheets on his bed. His spine was hot. "I'm not god damn scared. Not of you." He was scared of Aizen, but who wasn't? That was instinct.

"That's good to know." Gin sat beside him for another while and Grimmjow took that time to drink in his scent with a deep inhale. It was a strange one. The dry smell of Hueco Mundo's sand mixed heavily with the metallic, salty odor of blood and some tangy sweet aroma he couldn't identify. Gin could easily tell him it was dried persimmons, but he hadn't the thought to ask.

The moment was very heavy, Grimmjow felt it. His spine was so hot he thought he would combust on the spot. Gin didn't seem to notice his state. He sat silently beside him, a very pale, very slim figure that covered more strength Grimmjow wanted to admit. And as he was so close, senses to finely tuned, he felt every resonance of Gin's body, the tiny twitches of muscle, the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed and the way air brushed past his thin mouth.

Then Gin slowly stood and Grimmjow quickly lifted his head. His eyes were wide and anxious so he struggled to carve that scowl onto his face again.

"Where are you going?" He demanded and then in a snarl so he wouldn't sound so desperate, "Stay!"

Gin paused and turned towards him again. "No, that's a bad idea. With how you feel right now."

"I don't feel any weird way!" Grimmjow grabbed his sleeve and yanked with a growl like a spoiled, hissy brat. "Don't just come in here and then leave!"

"You misunderstood my intentions, Grimmjow-"

The arrancar shook his head violently and grabbed harder on his clothes. "I didn't! I don't think I did!"

"You don't want to think you did." Gin sighed. "My, my, you children..."

"Shut the hell up! Don't talk to me like that!" Grimmjow's face was coloring and it was doubtful if with anger. He shivered as he tugged on the man's clothes. "Just... just come closer."

"Grimmjow, no." Gin gripped his hand and tried peeling his fingers off of the fabric.

"Damn it!" Grimmjow stood when his fingers began slipping and he pressed himself against the man, grabbing the front of his haori this time. He buried his face in his neck and breathed hard, his body tense and shuddering against Gin's. There was no turning back now, he knew. Why would Gin deny it? "You won't fucking feed it to me I leave you cold! Why else would you come here to do this shit?"

"Grimmjow..." Gin pressed his hands against his shoulders and pushed on him carefully. "You only feel this way because-"

"No! I'm not feeling any weird way! It's god damn natural, fuck you!" Grimmjow growled, though it was not a violent sound, and pressed closer still. God, his body was burning. "...you're the only possible rival to the alpha. And you favor me. How else should I be feeling? Bastard. Don't reject me now! You can't do this shit to me!"

"I said you're misunderstanding me!" Gin whispered urgently, though the press of his hands was becoming weaker. "I don't favor you-"

Grimmjow whined loudly when hearing that, as though he had been whipped. That was cruel to say out loud like that. It really hurt him and he had no strength to deny that. Gin sighed heavily and tilted his head to lean it against the arrancar's in a tender gesture. Grimmjow's quick breath against his neck was slowly bringing goosebumps to his skin. But he had to get a hold of the situation.

"I don't... you're... Grimmjow, stop this..." He pressed on him and took a step towards the bed for a reason he didn't want to acknowledge.

Grimmjow stumbled and dropped onto his back on the mattress with a creak and a quiet grunt of surprise. Then he tilted his head back with a loud, groaning purr of satisfaction as he spread his legs and lifted his hips. His instincts kicked in hard and Gin... Gin didn't know what to do. He stood frozen in front of the bed, on which the arrancar was grinding his hips up and down in a tantalizing rhythm, squirming and panting hard as though he was being strangled a minute before. When it wasn't wide open so he could gasp for a gulp of air, his teeth played on his mouth, nibbling impatiently. And his eyes, the beautifully cut aqua blue eyes were half-lidded and anxious with a wild, instinctive need.

"...I swear this wasn't my intention..." Gin whispered as he slowly bent down towards the man.

TBC in next chapter

A/N: Next chapter will include graphic sexual situations (i.e.: HOT, DIRTY MALE/MALE SEX WITH GIN TOPPING THE SHIT OUT OF GRIMMYBOY). Anybody who wouldn't like to read it can pop past it to chapter 4.