Chapter 6:

Nnoitra

Shinji hurried home along the dark streets of Ichigo's district, cursing as he went. He'd ended up staying at Ichi's apartment longer than he'd intended – that Grimmjow had had enough hair to stuff a pillow with. Now, as he walked down the dirty sidewalk, the shadows on the buildings seemed darker than before and each hunched-over group of hoodlums he passed seemed to leer at him a bit longer than he felt comfortable with. He was strong enough to fight off attackers, but his lithe frame and gorgeous hair were no help in fending off creeps. If anything, he was a magnet for trouble.

As he turned a corner, a chill ran up his spine and he froze. He knew he was being watched. Shinji felt his heart pick up speed as he picked up his pace, fighting off the urge to break into a jog. Relax, relax. He thought to himself, ignoring the adrenaline that began to pump into his veins. The effects of Aizen's drug had long worn off, but he still knew how to defend himself – and when a long, thin arm wrapped around his neck, he instantly jabbed his elbow as hard as he could into his assailant's stomach.

The man behind him grunted, but did not release his grip. Shinji's face was whipped with long, black hair as he was gripped by the throat and shoved against the brick wall of a building. He thrashed and kicked out violently – when his steel-toed boot connected with the crotch of the strange man, Shinji almost grinned at the low, pained moan he heard – but the man only gripped his neck tighter, and pushed his whole body flush against him, effectively pinning him tight against the wall.

In the light of a streetlamp, Shinji could make out the man's face. It was long and thin like the rest of his impossibly tall body, framed by black hair like silk. His face was split by a wide grin that promised nothing but menace. Shinji felt another chill, this time from deep within his core. The man regarded him with one eye barely open – the other was concealed by an eyepatch securely taped to his head.

"Hello, sweet thing," the man said. "How are we tonight?"

Shinji gasped as the man opened his mouth – there, on his tongue, was the number "5" tattooed in intricate script. Shinji began to tremble despite himself. Where the fuck were all these damn Espada coming from? He swallowed hard, his throat convulsing against the man's hand. "What do you want?" he choked out.

The Espada loosened his grip from around Shinji's neck and placed both hands against the wall on either side of the young man's head. He let his eyes travel down, down…over the boy's heaving chest, to his thin hips and thighs. His grin widened as the boy flushed in response. "Don't look so scared," he crooned. "I need a place to stay, and you're the lucky winner."

"I'm not scared," Shinji spat despite himself. "I know what you are, Espada."

The black-haired man's eyes widened, and his grin vanished as he stared at Shinji. He gripped the younger man's collar with both hands, lifting him up and nearly crushing him against the wall with the weight of his body. "I'll kill you before I let you take me back to him," he snarled.

Shinji gasped and struggled to breathe. "Stop…I'm...on your side – I'm like you!" he ground out.

A confused look bloomed on the other man's face. "Vaizard…? No…"

"Yes!" Shinji cried. "Now let me down, damn it!"

Nnoitra stepped off a little, and Shinji crumpled, heaving for breath. The dark-haired man caught him before he collapsed fully. "I thought Vaizards were just legends," he said in a low voice. It was the closest thing Shinji would get to an apology.

"Obviously you thought fuckin' wrong," Shinji coughed. "Jesus."

"My name is Nnoitra."

Shinji glared. "Well, Nnoitra, against all better judgment I guess I can offer you a place to stay. But only because I know they're gonna be after you. And I can't afford regular security."

Security? "You want protection?" The grin returned full-force.

"I could use a big, strong boy like you," Shinji said, a smile widening his own face. "Make things easier for myself. And admit it, you need me. You've probably never seen much of the city."

Nnoitra felt something small move inside of him when he saw it. Just hunger, probably. And though he was loathe to admit it, Shinji was right. He had been wandering these streets completely lost until he came across the weak-looking boy.

"Fine," Nnoitra growled, straightening up and letting Shinji pass. "Lead the way, Sir."

"Ichigo," Grimmjow hissed. "Ichigo!" He shook the snoozing boy below him on the bed.

Ichigo groaned and rolled over, then opened his eyes to look up at Grimmjow's troubled blue ones. "Whaat?"

"There is someone being attacked outside," Grimmjow said.

This brought the young man to full attention. "Really? Where?" Grimmjow pointed towards the living room, and Ichigo rushed in and peeked outside through the old square window. The sound of a woman moaning softly wafted up, coupled with the sound of a zipper and a man's groan. "Er…" Ichigo blushed. "It's okay Grimmjow, there's no one being attacked out there."

"Then what was he doing to her face?" Grimmjow asked seriously.

Ichigo sighed and sat down on one of the beat-up old chairs. "He was kissing her."

Grimmjow had no idea what that meant. He sat down next to Ichigo and waited for the young man to continue.

"You'll experience it too, one day," Ichigo said, smiling. "It happens when two people love each other very much –" he paused. Was he seriously about to give Grimmjow 'the talk'?

But the blue-haired man just leaned in, his eyes betraying his obvious interest.

"They just…they hold each other, they hug!" he said.

Grimmjow nodded. He knew now of hugs, and what they signified.

"And then, they press their lips together, and sometimes…they use their tongues, to suck, or…bite."

Grimmjow snorted. "Who would want to bite a tongue."

"I think it could be very nice," Ichigo said without thinking, then clapped his hands over his mouth in shock. "I mean, you know."

But Grimmjow didn't know. He couldn't understand Ichigo's embarrassment, or the appeal of sucking another person's tongue. The outside world and its rules of affection were extremely confusing.

"And then after that, they might…have sex." Ichigo said hesitantly.

Sex. Grimmjow knew that word. For him though, it held something much different than what it did for Ichigo. He gripped the arm of the couch tightly with his hand. Sometimes, fighters would use sex to show dominance over others. To show power. And other times, his Master would invite his pets to his office for the night, and have them give him a special 'service.' Grimmjow knew because Nnoitra had been Master's favorite since they were both quite young, passed around between Master's friends at dinners and parties. They would tie the boy facedown on a table – Aizen would keep him on display as they ate, and then invite his friends to take turns after dinner while the rest of them stood around and watched. Grimmjow was spared that particular torture, but knew how it haunted Nnoitra. He was there when the boy woke up sobbing in the night after the first few months, until one day he returned wearing a bloody eyepatch, a wide grin splitting his face. He was not called back to Master for a long time after that, until recently – Grimmjow could tell because the dark look had returned to Nnoitra's eyes. Grimmjow knew his friend was approaching a breaking point. He wondered how Nnoitra was doing now. For a moment, he wished he had been able to escape with him.

When he told all this to Ichigo, the young man sat there in stunned silence for a while. "It's not always like that, Grimmjow," he finally said, his voice almost pleading. "It can be…beautiful."

The blue-haired man tried not to dismiss Ichigo's words. Not too long ago he had doubted the existence of a kindness like the one he had been shown, and yet here he was. If Ichigo said sex could be something beautiful, then he supposed he had fair reason to believe him.

He grinned suddenly, showing his teeth. "Maybe you can show me," he said in a low voice.

Like Grimmjow knew he would, Ichigo turned deep red. "I-It's late," the boy muttered. "L-let's go back to bed, okay? I w-want to show you things tomorrow."

Grimmjow chuckled and sprawled out across his fold-out bed. "Yes, Master," he purred, stretching and burying his head in a pillow in a vision of pure feline pleasure.

Ichigo felt the heat spread down to his neck and chest as he turned away, flicking off the light and nearly running into his room. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Grimmjow was such a tease! The thought filled him with a familiar sadness. If Grimmjow had been able to grow up on the outside, he would have been such a ladykiller. With those eyes, he could've easily gotten anything he wanted. Another feeling began to burn in Ichigo's stomach, one that made him draw the sheets around him and curl his toes. Deep inside, in a very selfish place, he was almost glad that Grimmjow had come to him the way he had. He was glad to be able to show him everything, to be the one Grimmjow depended on. Ichigo wanted to give him the life he could've never had underground.

As much as he tried to deny it, he was incredibly drawn to the wild, mysterious man who lay purring on his couch.

Please accept this crappy chapter as an apology for my year-long absence. And please let me know what you think of the story!