"Grimmjow. How long have you been awake?"

Aizen got no answer from the figure in the corner of the bedroom. He was hunched on the couch, bare feet drawn up, head resting in the corner. His arms remained crossed over his stomach. He'd been sick repeatedly in the night but hadn't moved again for nearly twelve hours.

"Do you feel better sitting?" Aizen approached carefully, not wanting to set off the high emotions that had dominated the young man for twenty four hours. He got a small nod and took the chair across from Grimmjow.

"Are you seeing anything anymore?"

Grimmjow had clawed at his own arm when he'd declared there was something moving beneath his skin. Now, though, he shook his head.

"Do you remember what happened?"

This got a pause, then a slow nod.

Aizen nodded too. "I thought they were taking you to the station. I never planned on letting them get you there. We were going to intercept and take them out somewhere quiet. Then Kaien told me their car had changed course. If I'd known then I—"

"Aizen." Aizen waited for more. Grimmjow stared him, then shook his head, failing to form words. He covered his face with one hand. Aizen stood and moved over to the couch. He didn't sit right next to Grimmjow, he gave him his space, but he stretched out his hand across the surface, waiting for him.

"I'm alright," Grimmjow said finally, though his voice betrayed otherwise. He slipped his hand into Aizen's, white bandages thick around his wrists where the cuffs had gouged into his flesh as he killed Yoshi. His hand shook when Aizen gripped it. "I'm going to be fine," he went on. "I swear. I'm not weak. I'm not a child. I can handle it." But he took a breath and it came out thick and gave into the gentle pull of Aizen's hand. Aizen placed a cushion in his lap. Grimmjow lay down, staring at the coffee table, Aizen running fingers through his hair. "Just for minute," he managed to get out. "Just a second and I'll be fine."

"I know. Everything is sorted. No one will ever know what really happened to them."

"How? They were cops."

"Don't worry. I've been planning their demise for quite some time. The arrangements were already made."

"I see. That's good."

"You should rest, Grimmjow. Go to sleep."

Grimmjow lay still, but sleep didn't come. Nothing came. No tears, no fear, just the lasting sickness of the overdose and a growing numbness about what happened.

As if sensing this, Aizen stopped trying to relax him. He pulled him up by the shoulders and got him to sit. "Come here."

He held him around the waist and got him on his feet. Grimmjow had managed to get to the couch on his own but he let himself be supported and led forward. Right now, all he wanted was to give up control. To not have to think. To just let go.

"Hands up." Aizen whispered in the washroom. Grimmjow obeyed, his undershirt lifted from him. He stood still and watched Aizen undo the drawstring of his sweats. Then Aizen began to undress himself. He turned on the spray of water from the shower and pulled Grimmjow in before it was even warm.

For the first few moments of painful cold spray, he just held him. Grimmjow rested his head against Aizen's chest as the water beat his blue hair into submission and coursed over his back. He still felt distant. He still felt like he was waiting for something to hit him but the same coldness that had spread over him when he'd killed his father gripped him now.

Aizen pulled back and turned Grimmjow against the wall. He held the shelf where soap and shampoo were kept to steady himself as Aizen scrubbed him down, getting rid of the remnants of sweat, blood and vomit that hadn't gotten cleaned up earlier. He cleaned every inch of him like he actually could get rid of the stains on his soul, where two more lives hung, and the bestial way in which Grimmjow had killed them stained deep.

When he toweled him down he was gentle again. He dabbed over wounds that were still vivid and fresh in his skin. He took him back to the bed and redid the bandages on his wrists. He replaced the patch over the injection site as well, checking it closely for infection before he did so. Then he reached for Grimmjow's clothes.

Aizen stopped at the steel grip around his forearm. He turned back. Grimmjow pulled his arm harder and stood.

Grimmjow's lips smashed against his. He took a hard grip around Aizen's head with both hand and got the same tight hold around his naked back, pressing their bodies flush against one another. He didn't moan or groan or jerk or grind. He just devoured and was devoured. He held tighter and tighter, inviting Aizen to delve deeper, to bite hard enough to mark him as he moved down his neck. He was the one to break away from the prelude and turn around. He was the one to choose his hands and knees, leaning with his head into the mattress and leaving the rest of him completely in Aizen's hands, and at his mercy.

But Aizen didn't show him mercy. He knew what Grimmjow wanted and what he needed. He knew he needed pain to rival the pleasure—to replace that which he didn't feel when he knew he should. He thrust deep and hard and long. Grimmjow felt the tearing heat and pain but he didn't make a sound until the very end when his prostrate was struck and he saw stars and his body sagged.

Even then, when he was still gasping from the toll on his exhausted body, he pulled Aizen to him. He lay on his back as Aizen leaned over him. His eyes were electrified with a dangerous energy, as if Grimmjow had invited Aizen to show his true, naked desire to him. That, was, in fact, exactly what he was seeing and what he was given. He bent his head back at the same time that Aizen leaned in to mark his throat. They were perfectly attuned to one another, and so their bodies coiled and twisted as if to a rhythm and beat only they could hear. Legs and hips and lips and grunts became inseparable from one man to the other until finally Grimmjow's body shut down on him. He lay near faint in Aizen's arms, their naked bodies boiling with heat. His head pounded, his eyes blinked back white but he was calm. He was whole. And he closed his hand over Aizen's just before he gave into sleep.

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

They were in the penthouse. Aizen was dressed but Grimmjow only had a t-shirt and his boxers on as he ate his breakfast and lounged on the couch. Aizen was preparing coffee at the bar and came around with two mugs. He sat on the edge of the couch where Grimmjow lay and set the coffee down. He took Grimmjow's plate from him and put it down as well then turned so that he leaned over the young man, almost trapping him where he was.

Grimmjow stared up at him. "What about?"

A hand stroked down his cheek, then over his chest and to his bare thigh. Aizen rubbed up and down the limb until his hand came up higher, slid under his boxers and took a firm grip of his bare ass beneath.

"About how much I'm sure it hurt you."

Suddenly there were fingers pressing against him. Grimmjow jolted in surprise and then flushed with anger but he couldn't bark out his curse because it was suddenly cut off with a cry when Aizen rather roughly dug in deeper. His body tensed up. Sweat broke out. He was trapped where he was by those cruel digits inside of him.

"Why are you doing this?" he hissed out.

"Because I want the truth. Did you want me to hurt you last night?"

"I don't know."

Another jolt. He felt Aizen's knuckles against him.

"The truth!"

"YES!" he screamed out, his hands had come up around Aizen's arms. "Yes, I wanted it to fucking hurt! Yes I wanted to be controlled! SO WHAT?"

"So what?" Aizen slowly eased his fingers back out but his mouth leaned in close to Grimmjow's ear. "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

Teeth clamped down over his neck. His hips were gripped and his shorts pulled clean off. Aizen straddled him on the leather and drove in with no other warning.

"AHHH!" Grimmjow arched all the way up into Aizen's waiting arms. Aizen held him tight but bent back down, pressing him back into the couch and not stopping. He wrapped a hand around Grimmjow's knee and pushed it back against his chest. He thrust his tongue into his mouth and barely let him breathe. He gripped the arm of the couch and used it for leverage to drive into Grimmjow as far as he could go.

"AHH! FUCK!" Grimmjow clawed into Aizen's shoulders. His left leg wrapped around Aizen's back. He screamed again and again until Aizen burst and flooded him.

They sank against the couch, panting. Aizen pulled out and sat back, leaving Grimmjow a sticky mess. Then he noticed Grimmjow hadn't come. He leaned in again and pinned his shoulder before taking hold of him.

"ahh…" Grimmjow's hips jolted. His whole body shuddered, needing release, but Aizen was only touching him lightly. "Come on," he urged for more contact but Aizen kept going, slow and steady. Grimmjow tried to reach down and do it himself but Aizen caught his wrists. He pinned them both with one hand. If Grimmjow really wanted, he could have gotten free, but he didn't. He accepted it, even when Aizen leaned over his chest and licked his nipple, adding to his turmoil.

He began to groan and moan beyond his control. His body quivered and writhed. Aizen was unrelenting. Finally he asked for completion and Aizen gave it to him. He firmed up his grip and stroked hard. Grimmjow arched and cried out as he screamed. He lay exhausted where he was left. Aizen leaned forward and reclaimed his coffee after adjusting his clothes. He drew Grimmjow's legs into his lap while the other continued to pant and recover.

When he did sit, Aizen's fingers trailing idly over his knee, he looked the man straight on. Had that been a test? Did Aizen want to know what had changed? Did he want to see if Grimmjow was capable of handling this level of intimacy?

"What was that?" Grimmjow asked blatantly.

"A measure of your tolerance."

"A what?"

"Like I said a while ago, Grimmjow, if I don't understand you, I might end up hurting you, and I don't want that."

Grimmjow's whole body ached. He'd been drugged and nearly killed two days ago and now he'd been taken hard last night and this morning. But those throbs of pain were something different now. They weren't draining, or something he wished would go away. They were a mark of how strong he was—of how he could handle more than most. They were a sign of how deeply Aizen wanted him.

He found his chest heaving. He was consumed with something he'd never felt before. He pulled away from Aizen suddenly and stood on trembling legs. He shot to the bedroom and hauled open the closet.

"What's wrong?" Aizen had followed him in and watched him yank clothes and bedding out until he found what he was looking for. When he held it in his hands, he turned. Aizen stared at the timer. "What do you need with that?"

"How high does it go?"

Aizen took it and fiddled with the numbers. Aizen tuned it to 99 and handed it back to Grimmjow.

"Good." Grimmjow set it down on the night stand and hit the button. "That's how long you have."

"To what?"

"To use me, Aizen, however you want."

Aizen stared at him, then he closed the distance and gripped Grimmjow tight around the waist, staring him down.

"I don't think you fully understand what you're offering."

"I do. I don't want to be afraid of what my father did to me, or what those men did to me, or of pain, or anything. I just want to let go."

"And when the time's up?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll go home. Maybe I'll stay here forever. But for now, I just want you."

He leaned up and pressed his lips to Aizen's. The other gripped his face and delved deep while his other hand slid down his skin until it clenched into his hip and he drew back.

"I accept your offer, Grimmjow, I just hope you don't regret making it."

"I won't," he assured.

"Then I have somewhere to show you." He took his hand and pulled him from the bedroom, through the penthouse and to a hallway of other rooms. Grimmjow had no reason to come down this hall which was mostly storage and spare rooms, but now he tingled with curiosity as Aizen walked to the one at the end, shut tight. He drew a key from the wall and put it in the lock.

A large room opened up to them, the size of the presidential suite in the hotel. But it wasn't just filled with cushy furniture—all around the room were different instruments of pleasure, maybe even some for pain. Grimmjow's body tightened with surprise—maybe even anticipation. Aizen led him forward, slow and careful. His was eager, Grimmjow could tell, but he held it in cheque.

Aizen bypassed the more elaborate looking items in the room and took him to one corner. He looked up, Grimmjow did too. There were leather cuffs dangling from the ceiling above them. Aizen was still holding his hand. He drew it up and fitted the leather around his wrist. Grimmjow watched him, seeing him tighten the thong until there was no give and fastening the buckle. Aizen waited before taking his other wrist, watching him for the fear he knew was deep inside but Grimmjow didn't pull back. Aizen secured this hand as well.

He stepped back. Grimmjow stood stark naked before him, arms taught above but not enough pressure on his wrists to harm the still healing wounds there. He took a few breaths. They came out short and fast. Aizen saw it in him. Grimmjow turned his face away, trying to keep it back, not let it out. Aizen moved in again, holding the small of his back and pressing his naked body against his fine clothing.

"Trust me," he whispered and sealed his mouth over Grimmjow's. His kisses were deep and slow. He moved down Grimmjow's neck and chest. His hands slid down his back and cupped his ass when he knelt. Grimmjow's heart rate quickened, his breath came short for a different reason as he stared down his body at what Aizen did next. He watched his head move in and keened as that heat enveloped him. He was suddenly on fire, his body excited beyond what he'd ever known. He wanted to move. He wanted to grab Aizen's hair but he couldn't. He was forced to endure the same slow treatment he'd been given on the couch. And then Aizen backed away, and cold air rushed over his skin that was wet with Aizen's saliva. He waited but the man made no further move to touch him.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Watching."

"Aizen, finish it."

"No." He pulled his tie from his neck and moved behind Grimmjow. He started when the smooth silk settled over his eyes and tightened behind his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked again when Aizen stepped away so lightly he couldn't quite tell where he was anymore.

"Trust me," he repeated.

Grimmjow swallowed. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. His body vibrated with arousal but it wasn't quite enough to keep the old memories from creeping in.

"Ah!" Suddenly another distraction came. It pressed between his cheeks, cold and lubricated. He bit his lower lip as it forced in, stretching already abused muscled and flesh. He let out a long gasp, raising himself up on his tiptoes. Aizen put a hand on his hip and pushed him back down to his feet. He held him tight around the waist as he pressed it all the way in.

"Ah, shit," Grimmjow groaned, filled to capacity.

There was a kiss between his shoulder blades then the object inside of him came to life.

"Nng…" he rocked where he stood, firm hands still holding him. Aizen continued to stand with him, running his hands up and down his flanks as if in a gesture of comfort while his body started to get overwhelmed with sensation. When his breathing evened out, however, those hands vanished, and he was alone in the dark with those powerful sensation running through him but not giving him enough to come over the edge.

He stood there a long time, until his legs began to shake, his body soaked in sweat. Then he heard a sharp smack followed by burning pain in his backside and he staggered forward.

He almost cried out to question it but a second smack came hard and fast, stinging into his skin and making him yelp. Worse, though, the strike shifted the object inside of him as well as vibrating all the way to his swollen member.

It was making him harder.

"Shit," he whispered when a third and fourth strike made him moan. Sensation pulsed through his arousal, more intense every time. He began to pant. And he began to want more.

Aizen struck him a dozen more times before his body spasmed and he came without direct contact. He gasped in disbelief as the pleasure consumed him. He sagged in the restraints, pain shooting into his wrists but Aizen didn't take long to move against him and take his weight. He lifted him first, then undid his wrists. They fell down limp as the rest of him. His head hung back as he was carried. Soft sheets pressed into his back and Aizen leaned over him, kissing him softly, smiling deeply.

And then he began to undress.

Grimmjow lost himself in that room. He didn't regret a second of it.

Fewf. That was an exhausting one! Hope you liked it!

~ZQ