Disclaimer: I do not own BLEACH or any of its characters, this story is merely my own interpretation, a work of fun an curiosity.

Story 5 - Confession

"Mark me soon, Gin..."

Grimmjow had said that and Gin took it as seriously as he was supposed to but didn't respond to it just yet. The arrancar didn't expect him to, though there was a miniscule hope in him. Hope like that was far too human and thus terrifying.

Gin felt it would - and should - be a difficult decision. Was it really acceptable for a shinigami like him to tie his soul to an arrancar's for eternity? Then again, was there truly such a great a difference between arrancar and shinigami? He thought that was like asking if there was a difference between two shades of grey. Of course, the depth and saturation of colour differed but in the end, they were the same: ambiguous in their morals, weak against temptation and driven by instinct.

As he's told Grimmjow, Gin never thought being a shinigami meant being a savior, an icon of goodwill and kindness. His own first encounter, his first impression of shinigami has been the worst of the worst. The images of Rangiku's small, bruised body lying shivering on the cold ground with those men leering over her will stay with him and will mark the name of shinigami for good. Gin had never liked shinigami - their name was too arrogant, most of their deeds too violent. But to accomplish his goal, he had to become what he loathed and a good one at that. So, through hard work and acting, always acting, to the point where he could hardly make out his real personality beneath the one adopted, he played his part well. In the end, he was the single person to learn how to stop Aizen's complete illusion.

But to bind his soul to Grimmjow's? The desire in him to do that was no pretense, he was certain. And the differences of arrancar and shinigami should be the least of his worries concerning the marking. Still he hesitated. If this was similar to a Soul Society wedding then souls bound would be tied together for good. No matter if one died, the other would continue to feel the claim of the Bite and suffer in search for his mate, struggling to survive until they could live again as lovers in a life to come. Gin has always thought that sounded more like a punishment than privilege. He wondered if Grimmjow knew that at all.

Knock knock.

"I'm coming in."

That toneless drawl couldn't belong to anybody else but Ulquiorra and indeed a second later the arrancar stepped in, not intending to wait for a response. His face remained passive as he looked at the two snuggled up tight in bed.

"I am here to remove the Sexta's numbering." He said purposefully, advancing on Grimmjow in a steady stride.

"Aaah, you're really someone who can't read the mood." Gin reached for Shinsou and Ulquiorra paused by the bed. There was a prolonged, discomforting silence as Ulquiorra stared at Gin's smiling face and Gin held his wakizashi pointed towards him, his eyes closed. Grimmjow still clutched against his chest, he pressed his fingertips into his back in a reassuring gesture.

He has heard of this before, stripping a Privaron Espada of their numbering. An Espada of higher position was usually tasked to do it and it actually meant forcibly removing the skin with the tattoo from the arrancar's body - which was usually achieved by either scratching it off with nails or burning it off with cero. Both were gruesome, bloody methods that Gin had no desire of witnessing right now.

Ulquiorra moved to bend down towards the blue haired panther and the blade stretched quicker than Gin had finished uttering the first syllable of 'ikorose'. It stuck shiny sharp into Ulquiorra's throat, right through the hollow hole in it, its other end sticking into the far off wall. The Cuatro continued to stare, apathetic, though a little hesitant right now, near impaled on that blade.

"Aizen-sama's orders." He clarified.

"Really now?" Gin hummed. "Did he also say, 'no matter what' and 'immediately'?"

Ulquiorra was silent for a second, obviously contemplating the question. "No." A beat and, "But I thought-"

"You thought." Gin interrupted with a quiet chuckle. He could have strangled the little bastard. How could he not understand to not intrude on them? And Aizen, with his slick ways, surely he already found out what happened between the two of them. He would have to deal with that later. "I was never certain if you could actually think for yourself! So it turns out you can. Well, then consider your current situation and if you understand, leave."

Ulquiorra once more weighed his options before saying, "Aizen-sama's word is absolute."

"Sure is." Gin agreed readily with a gentle nod of his head. "Doesn't mean you need to barge in on me and my mate."

Ulquiorra's gaze flickered to the back of Grimmjow's neck and lingered too long for Gin's liking. "He is unmarked." He challenged.

"For now, Ulquiorra-kun." Gin drew his sword back but kept it in his hand. "For now." He repeated for emphasis. "Leave."

Ulquiorra stalled for but a moment more before turning on his heel and walking out. He wore his usual apathetic expression even when he glanced back at the two from the doorway.

"I hate him." Grimmjow growled at once when the Cuatro was out of earshot. "He's disgusting. He does everything to defy his nature! Like a goddamn human! No, worse!"

"Hmm?" Gin placed his sword aside and pressed his lips to his scalp in a possessive kiss. "Would you prefer if he didn't and made advances at you instead?"

"What? Ugh, don't say that!" Grimmjow squirmed in his hold uncomfortably. "He smells horrible! I don't want him one bit!"

Gin laughed at his partner's sulky tone then drew back to look into his eyes. "Really? How come? Wouldn't he be a better choice? He's an arrancar too."

"I said so!" Grimmjow glared up at him. Gin wanted to kiss his breath away when he made that angry, riled-up expression. "He smells weird and he pretends he's something other than what he really is!"

"Don't I do the same?" Gin asked softly.

Grimmjow scowled in thought. "Maybe. But you don't piss me off that much."

And that was enough to pick him over someone his kind? It was somewhat amazing to Gin. Then again this wasn't a matter to be decided logically, he knew that. Grimmjow worked so beautifully upon an instinctual level and he was helplessly drawn to that.

"That much? So I do piss you off to some extent?" Gin raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Well, yeah!" Grimmjow answered very honestly, always straightforward. "You piss me off when you pick on me!"

Gin laughed and kissed his mouth softly. "I pick on you because you make that angry, grouchy expression. It's fun."

"You're an ass." Grimmjow bit back readily and kicked him in the shin where he lay.

"Oww... and you're a violent son-of-a-bitch, but I like you anyways." Gin muttered, bending down to kiss him again, only to meet Grimmjow's hand halfway there. "Mph?"

"Stop that!" Grimmjow struggled against his hold on him. "Lemme go! I gotta clean up. The bandages soaked through."

Gin pulled back and nipped on his skin where he could reach. "Your face is red. I think you're thinking of something else, kitten."

"I'm not a damn kitten!" Grimmjow struggled and kicked again and caught Gin in the abdomen with his knee. "Serves you right! Bastard!" He snarled, clambering off of the bed and scurrying off to the bathroom joined to his bedchamber.

"Tch..." Gin chuckled, slowly getting up to follow him. "He'll be the death of me." He muttered amusedly. His expression turned severe as he went on, pausing where he stood by the bed. "...well, better him than Aizen..." He decided.

He slipped in behind Grimmjow under the shower and helped him peel the bloodied bandages from his body. He looked at the wounds on his torso and shook his head. "It's deeper up here." He traced the edge of the wound on his chest area. "I'll rewrap it later."

Grimmjow curled his arm loosely around his neck and leant his cheek on his shoulder. "...stop saying someone else wants me. I don't want to know that. I don't want to know there's someone else who looks at me the same way you do. I don't want to feel like you think someone else might be better for me. I want you to be the only one, ever."

Gin paused when hearing that, slowly resting his hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry about that." He brushed his hands down his back in a soothing caress and Grimmjow growled pleasedly in return. "I'm certain no one else can look at you the exact same way. And even if there might be someone better-"

"I said don't think that!" Grimmjow growled loudly, pressing his nails into his shoulder where his hand rested.

Gin smiled and was glad Grimmjow didn't see it because it was a slow smile, forgiving and sad. "Just listen... even if there might be someone better, I am not going to give you to anyone." He said.

Grimmjow perked a little at that and lifted his head to look at Gin's face. "You'd fight for me if someone challenged?" He asked anxiously.

"Most probably to the death." Gin nodded.

"You're so strange." Grimmjow said for the second time that day and he nuzzled his mouth against the spot on Gin's shoulder where he desired to place his own marking. When could he? Could he ever? "Half the time you talk I have no idea what you really mean. You're always hiding something and that riles me up but I don't hate you for it. Every time you look at me with those eyes, I wanna know what you think. You say Ulquiorra wants me like it's a joke and then you say you'd fight to the death if he actually challenged? What's that... what the hell are you thinking? I can't fucking tell anymore!"

"Does it matter what I'm thinking?" Gin slipped his thumb down to the edge of his hollow hole to stroke the tender texture there while he spoke. "Does it matter when you know what my instinct tells me? I can think a thousand times that I'm no good for you and that you deserve someone better or different if all I feel is that I want to keep you all to myself..."

"Still... if you think strong enough, you might fight down instinct." Grimmjow lifted his head and found Gin's eyes closed. He scowled at that at growled quietly, displeased with it. "You're already fighting down your instinct to mark me. You almost fought down your lust last night... I hate that you have to think different from what you feel."

"I have always been in contradiction with myself. It's nothing new for me." Gin shook his head and drew back from him slowly. The water soaked Grimmjow, making his skin so tempting, slippery hot, and this was no time for fooling around.

"Oi! Wait!" Grimmjow snarled and grabbed his arm. "Just so you know!" He growled, seething as Gin turned towards him. "Just so you know, dammit! After this, I ain't stopping at anything! I'm gonna make you think of me! Think of me so much you'll go crazy! All the time! Shit! Fucking hell..." He shoved his arm away from himself when Gin didn't respond and turned the water off. He brushed past him as he went to get a towel to rub himself off. "Coming here to do me and then trying to walk away, fucking dickhead!" He growled to himself as he frantically rubbed his hair dry.

Gin chuckled quietly, though it was heavy and humorless. "You think that was it? How difficult do you think it is for me to hold back from claiming you again and biting you?"

"Can't be that difficult. I don't see ya suffering or anything!" Grimmjow scoffed, tossing the wet towel at his face before marching out. Gin watched him leave, gazed after him, down his back to his terribly inviting hips and backside.

He snorted at himself. "Don't see me suffering, hah?" He whispered, dropping the wet towel before walking after the man. He found him grabbing a pair of pants to put on and he slipped after him, pressing against him from behind. His arms went around his waist and Grimmjow hissed, trying to peel his insistent hold off of himself.

"Lemme go! Oi! Don't think you'll win me over with that! The hell!" The arrancar snarled and twisted in his arms so Gin held on tighter.

"I am struggling." Gin said quietly. "For a man who has been focused enough on a single goal to sell his soul to feel this way-"

"What way?" Grimmjow asked in a low, challenging tone.

"You know very well what way and neither of us will say it. There's no time to fuss around with words and what they mean in which language. If I can read your body I don't need your words. Why would you need mine?" Gin pressed his mouth to the crook of his neck and the man in his arms stiffened with a sharp whine.

"Shi...it!" Grimmjow clawed at his lower arm desperately. His knees were becoming weak, his spine burned, his entire body shivered. But no, not while he was still angry, it had to happen while they were together or it wouldn't be perfect. "Let go... not like this... let go!"

"I am struggling. I am struggling against the lust to devour you. To selfishly bind your soul to mine. To take you for all eternity for myself. I don't WANT anyone else to have you. I want your soul entirely more than I want revenge..." Gin slowly drew back from his neck and kissed his ear, softly to soothe. "It tears me apart. But I can't afford to show it and you know why. If I let my act crumble, I'm as good as dead."

"Shit... shit..." Grimmjow whimpered helplessly, reaching up to rub at the burning spot on his neck. "Bastard... fucking bastard! You can't do shit like that!"

"I can and I will." Gin turned him around and Grimmjow snarled up at him at the rough handling. "I can and I will because soon enough you'll belong completely to me. And I want you to know that for sure."

"How fucking long will you make me wait, eh?" Grimmjow asked, defeated under those words. The possessive tyranny in everything Gin has said to him only made the man more devastatingly attractive. Would he ever stop falling deeper...?

"Until the final war." Gin touched his cheek softly, traced the remnant of his mask and Grimmjow purred for the touch, though unconsciously.

"Why so frickin' long?" Grimmjow scowled, nuzzling into his palm. His touch, as ever, was strange and cold.

"Why? It will be the point where we both head off to do what we must. If your instinct to have me as your bound mate will be just as strong even while you're filled with bloodlust, I'll make you mine." Gin replied, pulling his hand back regretfully.

"You... you cruel bastard..." Grimmjow gritted his teeth. He couldn't argue with that. It made ridiculously lot of sense and he hated that. "You cruel fucking snake...!" He growled and threw his arm around his neck to kiss him with desperate, violent desire.

Change your mind!, his mouth on his screamed.

Don't do this to me!, his tongue sliding wet stuttered.

I love you..., his teeth biting soft whispered.

Gin wrapped his arms around his waist, tongue curling to meet and move with his. He held him, held him so tight Grimmjow thought he might faint from the devastating grip on him. The tongue in his mouth, the lips on his own, the teeth nipping back, even Gin's low groan in the back of his throat said against everything. They said defiantly against Aizen, against Soul Society, but most importantly against himself, what he said just now, and as his fingers pressed harder into his skin to pull him closer still, Grimmjow felt it: the man was suffering so bad he was close to going mad with it.

And knowing that was, Grimmjow thought as he melted against him, far better than some stupid confession.

TBC in next chapter

A/N: ...just so you guys know, they were both naked throughout the ENTIRE chapter. Ahem.