"Coffee?" Stark set the steaming mug down before Grimmjow. The mobster himself had a brew and he sat back with a groan on the comfortable couch. He was still in pain from his wound which had been deep into this shoulder. That was why he had so much time off to spend lounging in the penthouse with Grimmjow who had been glued to the couch for two days, staring dead-eyed at the television that played movie after movie without interruption.

"You watched this one yesterday," Stark commented, watching a zombie bite into the throat of a screaming teen.

Grimmjow said nothing. He hadn't said anything in two days.

"Aizen should be home earlier tonight. I think things are finally starting to settle down."

This got a reaction. "So it will be safe again?"

Stark hesitated. Grimmjow pushed himself up from the couch to consider the wounded soldier.

"Safe for me to leave," he pressed.

"Kid—"

"Don't fuckin' call me that. I'm not a kid. I haven't been a kid for years." He pushed all the way up now, sitting. It hurt less today, but he still felt pain from what had been done to him.

"Fine, Grimmjow, leaving here is not a good idea. You know they'll do it again."

"They fucking came for me here, in this building. That means the only place I'm really safe is in this room and I do not want to fucking stay here forever."

"Well, I suppose that's your choice."

"Is it though? Aizen didn't give me a choice last time."

Stark let out a long sigh. "Kid—Grimmjow, was he wrong?"

Grimmjow squeezed the couch cushion between white knuckles. He said nothing, neither did Stark.

"What would you do?" Grimmjow said finally. "I mean, I don't think you would just let yourself be…taken care of."

"I never had the option," Stark sighed and stood. He went over to Aizen's bar. "Maybe I can tempt you with a different kind of drink."

He poured a stiff one. Grimmjow stood and joined him at the bar. He leaned on the counter. He sipped at it but he went slow. He hadn't eaten in over a day.

"Listen, there's pride, and then there's stupid," Stark went on. "I'm not saying there won't be a time when it's okay to leave, but don't go runnin' out of here without thinking it over."

Grimmjow gave no answer, but he nodded.

"You know what?" Stark set his glass down, "I have an idea. Come on, let's go."

"Go where?"

"To the basement. There's something I want to show you."

Grimmjow followed after him after a moment's hesitation. His body was still a bit slow, but he didn't need help to walk. They rode the elevator all the way down. Just like going up, it required a key to go down that far. They moved through service hallways and stepped into a dark room. Stark hit a switch on the wall and slowly lights began to glow in the ceiling. As they flickered to life Grimmjow realized what this place was.

"A shooting range."

"Yeah. All of Aizen's men use it to keep sharp."

"You think I can't shoot?"

"I don't know. You own a gun but that doesn't mean you're a good shot. Let's see."

He headed over to a rack of hand guns and selected one. Grimmjow remained at the door.

"What's the point of all of this? Being able to shoot won't stop those bastards next time."

"No. But it's more fun than watching that terrible movie again."

Grimmjow couldn't argue, but he knew what Stark was doing. He was trying to pull him out of his funk. Maybe he should let him try.

He picked up a gun of his own.

"Put those on." Stark nodded to ear muffs and put his own on. Grimmjow followed suit. Stark offered him the spot before the target. "Show me," he shouted.

Grimmjow nodded. He planted his feet, grasped the gun with both hands and squared his shoulders. He looked down the sights and fired.

The bullet hit the right side of the target, in the shoulder of the silhouette. He took a breath, realigned his body and shot again. This one went too far left, barely catching the arm. He lowered the gun and looked to Stark.

"You're thinking about it too much," he said, moving into place and raising his one arm. "Instinct."

He fired five rounds as nonchalantly as if he were changing channels on the t.v. Grimmjow stared. Two were over the heart, three in the head.

"That's not just instinct." Grimmjow lowered his ear muffs when Stark did.

"Well, maybe not. But it has to be when it's real life, when it's happening right then and there. You can't worry about stance or think about aim—it has to happen naturally. I guess that's why you practise though, in a place like this."

"You think this will make a difference?"

"I think this is something your can control. And right now, I figured that would be welcome."

It was, more than Grimmjow realized until he was here, holding the gun and focussing on something beyond what had happened to him.

"Good," Stark said, understanding without Grimmjow speaking. "Now listen up and learn from the expert. "

Grimmjow's hands were vibrating by the time he returned upstairs. He and Stark had practiced for hours and his hands felt numb from holding the gun for so long but the rest of him felt better. It didn't hurt either that by the end of the day he was shooting straight through hearts and heads. In real life, it would be different, he knew that, but next time he pulled a gun on someone he'd have a better chance of actually hitting what he aimed for.

He was barely in the door when Aizen returned. His actions slowed at once, clearly not expecting to see Grimmjow up and about. His eyes dropped to his shaking hands. He frowned.

"Stark took me to the shooting range," he said at once, half defensive. He didn't like that look—didn't like to be thought of as weak.

"He did?"

"Yeah…I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." He hung his coat and reached out for Grimmjow's hand, stilling it in his own. "How did you do?"

"I'm not a sharpshooter, but pretty good, I guess."

"Good."

He drew Grimmjow's hand up and kissed it lightly before drawing him into an embrace. "And how is the rest of you?"

"Better," Grimmjow answered calmly, but he felt a swirl in his chest at their closeness. He drew back again. "Just not that much better."

"I know." Aizen smiled. He was very calm compared to how he had been lately. On second look, there were dark circles under his eyes. He was done in. "I can wait."

"Good because you look like your worse off than me. You need sleep, you've barely had any the past few days."

"Mmm, sleep does sound good. Will you call room service for me, while I shower?"

"Yeah."

Aizen left a trail of clothes between bed and shower. Grimmjow picked them up for him as he waited for the food to come up. It felt good to look after someone else instead of thinking about himself. Security brought the order in. Grimmjow lay it out on the table and poured Aizen his drink. He came out just in his silk robe, sinking heavily into his chair. He observed the drink, the plate, the food. He smiled.

"Thank you."

Grimmjow sat across from him.

"Can you tell me anything, about what's been going on?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Just, I don't know, what's happening. I feel like I'm so out of the loop up here."

"I supposed you make your living being in the know. It must be killing you." Aizen mused as he twirled pasta on his fork. "I guess the big news is that Katagiri failed to take my warehouse on Broad Street, which he's been trying to do for years, but especially this week."

"I know that building. It's just a block from my place."

"Precisely why I've been keeping you here. You happen to live in a very dangerous neighborhood."

"That's how I keep in the know."

"Yes, well, that property should be safe now along with my others. Despite the traitors in my midst, Katagiri got nothing of value from me. Things should return to normal soon."

"I bet he's pissed though."

"Yes but he's suffered losses this week as well. I'm guessing he also needs time to recuperate."

Grimmjow asked no more questions and let Aizen eat. When he was finished, the crime lord stood but held out his hand to Grimmjow.

"Just sleep," he assured. Grimmjow nodded and followed him in. He didn't undress completely. He left on his undershirt and boxers. Aizen didn't question it. They lay back together, facing the patio and the setting sun far away on the horizon above the high rises that scraped the sky around them.

Aizen's hand was looped around his waist. Their head shared a pillow. It felt secure, safe.

"I have been looking forward to this." Aizen whispered. "I missed you."

Grimmjow drew a hand back against the one that held him around the middle.

"I'll stay for now," he whispered. "But not forever. I want to be with you, but not kept by you."

He said it softly but he was aware it might still set Aizen off. For a moment there was quiet, the hand under his tightened slightly over his abdomen, then it relaxed and he felt Aizen nod.

"Of course. That's not who you are."

Relief spread through Grimmjow. The sun dipped behind the last building and drenched them in darkness but he felt warmth in Aizen's arms.

Grimmjow lay on his back on the bed. Aizen leaned over him, his kisses deepening each time. His fingers played down Grimmjow's bare chest and stomach, working their way lower to the drawstring of his sweats.

"Mmm…" Grimmjow jolted and groaned when Aizen took hold of him. His hands came up around Aizens's neck and he let himself be devoured, inside and out, for the first time in two weeks. He was hypersensitive. Every touch made him react. His feet moved back and forth over the sheets in desperate need for satisfaction as Aizen stroked him slowly.

"Ahh…Aizen…" he breathed when he broke from the kiss. Aizen let him lay back to pant for breath. In the meantime his hand continued to pump but his lips travelled down his throat, his chest.

So much sensation assaulted Grimmjow. He'd thought it would be hard to return to this—to let himself be touched again—but it was incredibly easy. He gripped the pillow above his head as his nipple was sucked. He scrunched his eyes shut when Aizen licked from sternum to navel. He arched his back when his strokes came harder and faster with an added lick and nip at his tip.

"AIZEN!" He was overcome. He spasmed and came hard over himself and the sheets. It was bliss. He lay in a haze of pleasure for a long while until he heard Aizen undressing and he saw the bottle of lube in his hands. He rolled to his side. Aizen slipped a pillow between his knees and lay back behind him. Grimmjow stiffened as the pair of digits slipped into him.

They had talked about this. Grimmjow hated talking about it all—it made his face burn with embarrassment, but Aizen had said he wanted them to be on the same page. They'd both agreed it would be best to spend some time getting him ready after so long. So he lay as relaxed as he could while Aizen took his time loosening him up.

What a ridiculous situation, he thought as he lay there. Since when had it become normal to let another man—perhaps the most powerful man in Southern Tokyo, do this to him? Since when had it stirred pleasure instead of dread?

"Ah!" Aizen pressed into that place he now knew well. Grimmjow's knees tightened over the pillow. Another stroke of contact was followed by a kiss on his shoulder. He couldn't restrain a groan when Aizen began to thrust into the spot in earnest and kissed his was down his neck and to his jaw.

"Ready?" Aizen whispered in his ear.

"Yeah."

"Good."

He took the pillow from between Grimmjow's knees and put it beneath Grimmjow's lower back before rolling him back onto it. Then he settled between his legs and planted his hands on either side of Grimmjow's head.

"Ahh!" Grimmjow's whole body arched as he was filled. He held Aizen's shoulders as if they were made for this purpose and rocked with him. He kept a slow, steady pace, getting Grimmjow used to it all again but his own need was clear and Grimmjow gave him a nod to tell him he was ready for the real thing.

Aizen devoured him. He picked up his pace until he was literally pounding him. He grabbed Grimmjow's knees and prompted him to wrap his legs around him. Their bodies melded into one. Their mouths became a tangle of tongues. Their heart beats thrummed against one another.

Grimmjow screamed in ecstasy. Aizen moaned out low. Then they did it again. And even after the second time Aizen kissed and licked his sweat soaked body as if he would never be done tasting him, never be done consuming him.

So when Aizen pulled him up toward the shower, he relented. He planted his hands against the wall as hot water sprayed down on them and he let Aizen take him a third time. His knees gave half way through. He held the wall as Aizen held his hips and kept on going. He bent his head in pain and pleasure he didn't think he could experience. And when it was over he was spent. He didn't even remember being lifted and taken back to bed.

Thanks for the reviews! Pretty intense chapter coming up next!

~ZQ