It was appalling. It was disgraceful. It was completely inconceivable. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had been demoted, no, he had been entirely stripped of his title as the sexta Espada. The former Espada had even lost his arm to that holy-than-thou fuck Tosen.
It was absolutely infuriating to Szayel Aporro.
There wasn't a chance in all of Hueco Mundo that the scientist would even associate himself with the blue haired man. Not only would he be lowering himself to Grimmjow's level, but all it'd serve to do would be to bring back unpleasant memories of the time of his own failing. Both were things the narcissistic octava would not, could not tolerate and because of that he found himself stuck in a high state of sexual frustration.
This just isn't going to do, no, not at all. Szayel Aporro had thought to himself on the fifth night of Grimmjow's falling. He lay in his bed, white sheets mused around his sweat covered body, with his hair sprawled around his head creating a pink halo. His hand was still grasping his spent cock in hand, stroking it languidly now and then as he tried to think of a way to solve his perpetual state of hormones. At this rate, Sazyel Aporro was going to have to take Nnoitra up on his late night offers even if the very thought made his skin crawl.
That's when it hit him. An idea so obvious, so incredibly genius that the ovtava Espada didn't know why it hadn't come to him before. Just the very thought of successfully completing what he had in mind, which he would, brought his cock back to life. The scientist was almost laughing as he fisted his cock, back arched off the bed while his fingers worked the tight passage of his ass once again. It only took a few minutes before his stomach was covered with white and Szayel Aporro collapsed back onto his bed breathing hard.
Tomorrow, Grimmjow.
There was never a time the cannibal was more excited to conduct an experiment.