Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

A/N: I don't know what drove me to write this, but I blame university and everything connected to it (I swear it'll kill me...sooner or later...) Some warnings again: yaoi (IchiGrimm), sometimes dark/silly humor, perverssssssness (no real smut), oh and Grimm will suffer...a little bit xD

Thanks to beta-reader Flaming Orange Rose! (your speed had frightened me...oô)

Well, have fun!

He had no idea how it happened – how he could let himself go so far and how it was possible at all. Actually, he was known for his freaking big mouth and his traits of insanity, but seriously, his mouth wasn't that big and he wasn't that insane! Was he?

What was Mr Jaegerjaques talking about? Well, there was this tiny problem. Due to the intense fighting, the raging emotions, the hate, the energy, the heat, the hunger, the freaking constellation of the stars or whatsoever, he was overwhelmed and when he came back to his senses, he noticed that his stupid berry-opponent had vanished. Completely. Cero. Nada.

He gulped, touched his stomach.

He felt sated. Not hungry. Cold sweat broke out.

He burped.

He hadn't had a meal like that since becoming an arrancar and he – almost – feared, if he thought about it just a little bit more he would be able to connect the dots and come to one horrible conclusion: he successfully devoured the Kurosaki kid.


He looked at his hands and tried to find any trace but found none than the usual cuts and specks of blood when fighting his favorite berry. He remembered when he had successfully beaten his tiny ass into the ground some minutes ago, clearly having the upper hand during the match and he was so enlightened by the fight and the victory and everything in between that his brain engaged autopilot and did was every sane hollow would do.

He felt like puking.

Hell, his mouth wasn't that big! There was no way the kid would fit into there... So he had ripped him apart and eaten him bit by bit?


He had to get away.

Las Noches.

Grimmjow made his way down a random corridor, not thinking about the direction he was going. The vibrating power that flowed through his body was the last evidence he needed to confirm his suspicion. He didn't want to think about Aizen's reaction. Or the others. He doubted anybody would believe him anyway. If Aizen had been interested in the kid he might order Szyael to do something about it – cutting him out or making him gag until the redhead came out. He shuddered at the horrible picture.

Better stay put for a while. The shinigami-bitches would soon found out, too, that Kurosaki was missing and he wasn't thrilled to get to know what they might do when they found out.

Going to bed sounded nice anyway.

Three weeks had passed and still, the annoying reiatsu of the human-shinigami-hollow-hybrid was pumping through his body like crazy. He asked himself why nobody mentioned or noticed it. Instead, everything was as it used to be. Weak hollows were killed because they were annoying, arrancars and freaks were made, Aizen threw his famous tea-party every once in a while.

Surprisingly, in the furthest corner of his consciousness, something unnerving – fear? uneasiness? guilt? – was bugging him. He pushed it even further away and buried it under a mountain of hate, anger and bad mood, and drank his tea with a sour face.

Four weeks had past and he felt edgy. He longed for a good fight, a real good fight, but the steady, heavy flow of reiatsu morphed into a prickling sensation in his limps and made him feel light headed. Had Kurosaki made him high? After all this time?

He remembered a saying to not eat things lying on the floor. He better keep that in mind the next time...

Something with him wasn't right. His body temperature changed from ice cold to burning hot, and he broke out in sweat more often than he was comfortable with. His movements became jerky and uncontrollable; he even caught his hand hitting his face when he was restlessly lying on his bed.

His pride forbade him talking with anybody about it, so he observed the unusual things and tried to make a self diagnosis: Kurosaki was a fucked up kid and devouring him was the worst idea he had had since ... well, since ever. Not to mention, he did it unintentionally.

The first time, his own hand hit him and it left a mark, he was officially worried. He thought about binding his fist to the bedpost but it looked like he had a fetish or something – and even after trying it out once, his other hand became the traitor...

Kurosaki did fuck him up...

He was sleeping. He could feel it by the way the air felt so light and tiny stars were all around him. Then he crashed to the ground, still caught in his dream, and he panted harshly. What the hell?

Grimmjow found himself being sprawled on a cold stone floor of an unknown room that – due to his dark color – didn't belong to Las Noches. Warily, he observed the diffused light that emerged from unknown corners and the space decorated cheerfully with useless crap and deep red sheets dangling from the ceiling. In the center of the room, a throne towered in front of him. And lazily sprawled onto it was the carrot top Kurosaki Ichigo!

"What the fuck..." Grimmjow muttered. To his surprise/disgust the kid smirked evilly, crossing his arms behind his head in a slow motion, stretching his legs so that a cracking sound emerged.

"Hello." The annoying voice was chirping.

"What are you doing here! Why the hell I am dreaming of you of all people!"

"'s not a dream, 's your inner world. Never seen it?"

Even in his dreams, the Kurosaki kid was kind of strange.

He slapped his face harshly in order to wake up.

The kid snorted loudly. "Didn't know you like it that much."

Grimmjow didn't wake up and his cheek stung of the pain. He considered slapping himself again, but seeing the wide amused grin, he stopped himself. Maybe he just need to kill dream!Ichigo and this little nightmare was put to an end.

"Don't even think about it." A lazy hand was unfolded from the deep red material of his clothes and with a simple flick of his wrist Grimmjow was forced on the ground by an unknown strength. "I'm in charge here." Kurosaki stood up, playing with a white, thin string that was clamped to the ceiling and to the floor. "You see those?" A tug. "They're connected to your energy. It's quite simple to manipulate them when figuring out how." A grin. "Had enough time for that."

"Why are you here! I devoured you, didn't I!"

"Unfortunately yes, you fucking prick." A tug on a different string and Grimmjow felt like he was burning from inside out. "Fortunately my reiatsu refused to fuse with yours like the reiatsu of the other victims you had as a meal before. In fact, I seem to be so resistant that I simply exist in your cute little mind as a second being. Nice, isn't it?"

"Revenge..?" Grimmjow was just able to gasp it out, clenching his teeth when Ichigo fumbled with another string.

"Hmmm, yes? Maybe a little." Kurosaki grinned widely, the corner of his mouth held something sadistic, evil, frightening.

When his eyes snapped open, he was panting so heavily as if he came up on the surface of the deepest lake he had ever seen. Considering his drenched clothes, the picture wasn't as metaphoric as it sounded, but smelling the soaked material, he noticed it was his own sweat. Nice.

He hated the kid after this little session even more.

His perception was messed with and he felt strange sensations running over his body, his skin – and even deeper – it was creeping him out.

The kid developed a dark kind of humor when terrorizing his senses. Aizen started noticing his strange unfocussed behavior and his unbalanced appearance ("Is something wrong, Grimmjow?") but he played it off. Not that Aizen didn't know already what was up with him. He always knew. He might feel a kind of satisfaction if the bastard was surprised finding out what (or who) was really bothering him – and how.

Yeah, how. At first it was a burning feeling in his knees, a sting in his upper arm, his eyes watered without a reason and his face reddened in front of Nnoitra. (bastard laughed his ass off). Then Kurosaki seemed to try some different methods. A tinnitus-like sound terrorized his hearing for another day, and the day after he felt his bladder more than once. (he didn't even drank as much as he was pissing). His bowel felt cramped and stung with every step he took; or the sight of his eye had a heavy tinge of magenta...sometimes turquoise. Or neon-yellow. It gave him a headache.

The day Grimmjow felt something grabbing his ass he pulverized the first thing that was nearest to him (some random hollow and a fracción of whoever). He was disturbed by the touch when he noticed it was a new way of Kurosaki, annoying the hell out of him.

Since then he tried almost desperately to find a way into his 'inner world' to beat the shit out of that kid. (his brute behavior and his – this time overly – simple mind was the reason he didn't try to meditate – but seriously, meditating was something for pussies!)

Grimmjow jolted up from his light sleep, goose bumps appeared on his skin as he felt his nipples being pinched. What. The. Fuck! Was this kid going nuts! He panted and laid back onto his soaked mattress (not a single night without him sweating a bucket of body fluids). The dull pain remained as he waited for another insane idea of the devoured little bastard.

Nothing came.

Two nights later, he jolted up again. A certain – other – part was throbbing. Okay! Enough was enough!

He screwed his eyes shut and dug into the deepest corner of his mind, seeking after the familiar and foreign reiatsu in his system. 'Come out!' he growled inwardly, just hearing a low snicker. 'You think this is funny, faggot?' A careless humming was his answer. 'Stop molesting me!'

Kurosaki was creative, Grimmjow had to admit, even though he was so disgusted he wanted to vomit. He had no idea how he was able to screw up his brain so much, but he managed to slip pictures of naked arrancar into his view when sitting peacefully at the Aizen-tea party. He almost got a coughing fit when the first picture appeared out of nowhere (tea actually came out of his nose when coughing too much). He mumbled something incoherently left the room.

That night, he felt a finger travel his spine up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

"What do you want from me?"

Kurosaki blinked in surprise. "Wow, you came here, after all."

Grimmjow managed to travel inside his head for the first time by his own free will. And he was completely in charge of his limps. Tables are turned.

Or so he thought.

Kurosaki grinned again. "It's quite entertaining seeing you squirm and writhe when I let my magic work."

Grimmjow cracked his knuckles, grinning like a madman. "You'll regret ever doing that to me!"

The next moment, he fell to his knees, clutching his best part. He glared at Kurosaki playing with a string and pulling it agonizing slowly. Fire shot through his veins, right into-

A moan.

At first, he was too shocked to notice that he made the sound but after the surprised/amused look of the berry's face, his cheeks reddened and whitened the same time. "You bastard!" He could only gasp. Kurosaki tortured him with bittersweet sensations, turning him into a whimpering mass when using those strings like he would play a guitar.

He came back to consciousness, standing in the middle of his room where he had started his meditation-tour. His trousers were soaked. He grimaced. He'd kill the kid.

Kurosaki was harassing his mind since a month. It beat him how he remained sane after all the time. It beat him why nobody was seeking revenge for him and died trying. Maybe he could kick the berry's ass if he slaughtered a dozen of his friends or so. He had too many of them anyway. Considering the berry's new interest in sexual harassment, he asked himself how the kid was able to make friends in the first place. That kid was a freak, a disgusting, little, perverted freak. He stopped counting the times he woke up with a problem dangling between his legs, or – more cruelly – when he was just minding his own business in Hueco Mundo and was rewarded with said problem out of nowhere.

Every intention to stop the kid from his attempts to make a complete idiot out of him failed.

Kurosaki's newest experiment was...hugging him. Don't get him wrong, but after the episode of harsh treatment and humiliating molestation, such (yuck) gentle touches were the most disturbing. The kid wasn't there actually, just the touch, the feeling of someone standing behind his back, the faint pressure of arms encircling his waist... He asked the bastard more than once what the fucking hell was wrong with him. Not that he got a direct answer...

"You make those disturbed faces." He chuckled.

Grimmjow wasn't amused. His dark glare got more intense when seeing the bright smile of Kurosaki.

"I've got nothing to do here anyway. Being trapped in your mind and all. You've got some nasty thoughts every once in a while. However, I'm surprised that your thinking doesn't only include blood, fight and hatred."

Grimmjow pulled his mouth into a thin line.

"Find a way to get me out and the problem is solved." A smile.

"Keep dreaming," Grimmjow snorted with an arrogant smirk. "That's your plan? Getting me to crack up and break? Won't happen anytime soon."

Kurosaki should use other (better, crueler) methods to get him anywhere. It was annoying as hell, and he started to lose his patience, but if this was some kind of fight, Grimmjow was in for it. Like hell he would give up and give in!

Unfortunately Kurosaki saw this as a little competition as well.

Unfortunately he had more pull than Grimmjow.

The arrancar found out when he was forced into his 'inner world' without his consent. To his surprise the throne room changed into a wide open field, with grass and little flowers and some cute little trees littered around the space. He gagged. And he noticed that he wasn't able to move, being forced to look at the clear blue sky.

The redhead came into view. "Hello there."

"I'll kill you."

Kurosaki rolled his eyes. He crouched beside the motionless Grimmjow, patting his head affectionately and receiving a heavy glare while doing so.

"Fuck off!"

"Do you like the new decoration? I cleaned your messy mind a bit. Jeez, you had some skeletons in your closet." He laughed. "Not to mention the mountain of corpses on the other side of the clearing..."

"What. Do. You. Want?"

Instead of saying anything, Kurosaki bent down and blew hot air into his face. His feral grin was the only warning he got, when the kid went to the next level of humiliation and pressed his mouth to his. Nasty hands traveled up and down (upanddownupanddownupanddown) his torso, clutching onto his white clothes, and a tongue was shoved into his mouth. His intentions of biting the offending organ of, was crushed when he wasn't able to.

"I want to make you beg."

Grimmjow decided that that wouldn't happen anytime soon. However, he was – a tiny little bit – worried, that his resolve would crack like any other resolve concerning the brat.

Apparently Kurosaki wasn't interested in simple molestation anymore (at least he spared his nipples, his butt or any genitals). He seemed to enjoy the goosebumps and the shudders wrecking Grimmjow's body whenever he hugged him around the waist or left soft butterfly kisses around his neck. He knew he would get the most response this way, because he used tricks Grimmjow wasn't familiar with.

"Find a way to get me out of here."

"Fuck you."

His last statement propelled another experiment Grimmjow hadn't expected or dared to think about.

Shudders were running up and down his bare back and he watched with wide eyes as Kurosaki crawled up to him, his expression was like a predator eying his helpless prey. (so much for the turned tables). He was too dumbstruck to say anything as a hand pulled onto the sash around his trousers, seeing it falling to the floor next to him. The grass was poking his bare arms and he struggled to gain control over his unresponsive limps again.

Kurosaki shushed him, an unnerving smile was plastered on his face. Then his trousers were gone missing. Grimmjow broke out in cold sweat, his jaw shook ever so slightly as Kurosaki crawled on top of him, stroking his naked chest.


Grimmjow's tongue refused to work properly and he just got out some incoherent sounds.

"Don't be."

The lids of his eyes were ripped open and the pupil was so small that the eyes seemed to be just blue. He gasped. He sweated. He swore he was never so lucky to get away from this nightmare-land before, even if it meant, he had to run away like a pussy. His sacred parts remained untouched, that was the most important part.

However, he should know better. Ever since Kurosaki knew about this weak spot, he tried it way too often, way too persistent. Sometimes there was this rain of kisses, that came down his face, his neck his whole torso. Other times, he would bite and lick, and Grimmjow felt so disgusted. Other times, the kid grew bolt and was too intimate before he was able to rip his consciousness back to the real world. The longer this harassment went, the more difficult it was to get out of his 'inner world'. Grimmjow felt like he was possessed by a demon.

"Find a way to get me out of here."

"Are you feeling well, Grimmjow?"

Said arrancar grunted. He didn't want to answer because he felt the need to be honest and that would result in him screaming the truth out in the world, the truth of his torture, his nemesis.

"I heard about a ruckus in the human world. Do you know anything about it?"

He didn't answer.

"You're not interested, Grimmjow? Your favorite opponent is mentioned repeatedly."

Said opponent was always a cause of one tumult or another. That kid asked for trouble. That kid was trouble. A little monster playing with his mind.


"Yes, Aizen-sama." he said without context to the previous statement. And he left.

"Grimmjow, come on." Kurosaki was lying on his chest, a finger drew small patterns across his skin. "You want to get me out of here, don't you?"

That brat wouldn't stop. He wasn't able to stop him. Nothing stopped him. He was a part of his mind that punished him.

"You're sick of me, aren't you?"

Grimmjow pulled his mouth into a snarl. "Try me."

The finger went down further, slipping past his hipbone, turned over the rounded flesh of his butt and stopped shy over his cleavage. "Come again."

Grimmjow paled. He tried to put up a bluff; a grin spread over his face. His blue eyes quavered, then widened as – without further warning – the digit touched sacred territory. "Y-you-!"

"Don't underestimate me." Brown eyes were so cold and cruel. "I'm your inner Hollow, your private little monster and I won't stop until you're able to spit out my soul and bring me back to my world."

Grimmjow grew desperate. He avoided asking any favor of Szyael but he needed to find someone, somebody, anybody.

The human world.

The moment he stepped out of the black Gargantua he felt the presence of too many strong reiatsu littering the town and spiking up for a second. He quickly covered his presence and rushed to the street to hide between the buildings.

Where to go?

The human world was his first choice. Nobody of Hueco Mundo was able to help (correction: he wasn't willing to let any of those bastards help him) and Seireitei was out of question. He strolled aimlessly through the streets and alleys, careful to not be found. Shinigami seemed to cover up the whole space and he often felt dark emotions rolling of their spiritual bodies.

He tired out easily; after all, Kurosaki prevented any real sleep to take over him for the last weeks.

He wanted to scream when he found himself in his inner nightmare again.

"H-how could you-!"

"I said, don't underestimate me. Remember, I'm part human, part shinigami, part hollow. And my hollow side is quite exited and playful."

Grimmjow trashed on the ground. His limps were barely responding to his frantic, soundless pleas and he shakily robbed away from the monster. Strings appeared all around him and when Kurosaki pulled several of them, he felt hotness engulf his whole frame. He shook and arched off the floor, he clutched the grass and his hair and finally, giving up, took care of his growing arousal. A heavy foot was planted on his chest and he breathed heavily, looking up through half opened eyes.

"You're at my mercy," Kurosaki said in sing-song voice, shaking his forefinger tauntingly. The very finger was turned to the redhead's face and was slowly pushed into his mouth. Mischief glistered in those brown eyes.

Grimmjow clenched his teeth when the finger being covered in saliva exited the mouth and came dangerously close to his face. He hissed when it left a wet trail over his cheek, down his jaw, further to his collarbone, rounding his hollow-hole.

Suddenly he was rolled over, the foot was planted between his shoulder blades, his sash was removed and his trousers were pulled down. Actually, he screamed. He screamed even more when the spit covered digit went down to his cleavage.

"F-fuck, fuckfuck, shit - NO! Get out of my head, get out of my head!"

Kurosaki halted. "Could you repeat that?"

"You fucking bitch, I'm already in the human world, tell me … where someone that is competent enough to pull you out!"

Kurosaki smirked.

He waited a moment.

He enjoyed the whimpering sight.

"You remember this guy, with a hat and clogs?"


"I don't care what you may think or do or whatsoever – get this fucking bitch away from me!"

The blond guy blinked behind the shadow of his hat. "Excuse me?"

Grimmjow barked again. "Get this fucked up, little, bitchy monster away from me!" The next moment, Grimmjow crumbled to the floor, panting harshly and shaking like a leaf.

The blond guy waved his fan, looking from left to right and back to the crumbled figure. "Can you repeat that?"

"Please..." he whimpered, sounding far from the violent, loud-mouthed individual he used to be. Lack of sleep and rest and the constant harassment and attacks and the manipulation. Fuck it all, he reached the end of the line! "The orange devil is driving me insane..."

The guy's eyes lightened up.

Less than ten minutes later, the blonde – Urahara – nodded. "Never heard of anything like that before."

No shit, Grimmjow thought grumpily, clenching his teeth and wrapping his arms around his quivering torso.

"We need to be fast, half of Seireitei's lieutenants and captains will be here soon. They're in for your head if you're interested in knowing why."

Grimmjow rubbed his throbbing temple. Just what he needed.

"According to what you said, it seems like our dear Kurosaki's reiatsu wasn't compatible with yours; perhaps his strange mixture of hollow and shinigami was difficult to cope with, or our Kurosaki was just extremely strong-willed and pigheaded. Either way, it is difficult to divide his presence from you, especially after you stayed together that long."

"It was just two and a half months, and only one and a half since he started drawing attention to himself."

"Even though, he developed a strong connection to you. You can feel it as well, the way his reiatsu has covered yours and linked with it?"

The only bonding/linking/connection thing between them was the misfortune that they shared a body (his body!). It was just his luck that the brat wasn't able to control it properly, even if the manipulation was bad enough.

"Give me some time, I'll look what I can do about it."

Grimmjow cocked a brow. "And Seireitei? They surely won't wait, will they?"

Urahara waved his fan, grinning. "No, of course not."

Grimmjow was pissed off. Reeeeeally pissed off. He can't remember the last time he felt so pathetic to play hide and seek with those stupid shinigami – hell, he would kick all their asses if Kurosaki wouldn't tire him out so much. Half the day, he was on the verge to fall asleep standing, only to be rewarded with the prospect of a grinning Kurosaki and his witty, perverted fingers.

"Hell, stop it already! You get out of here soon!"

Kurosaki grinned widely. "But it's fun." And his hands crept over his sensitive skin, making the arrancar writhe and jowl in frustration.

A week had past and he asked himself how nobody had approached him and ripped his head off for eating up the kid. No friend of his showed up, even if he felt their presence everywhere. Soon he was forced to go back to Aizen, too, but he wasn't thrilled to let his chance of freedom slip away just like that. He would fight, he would survive, he would win. Sooner or later. And the Kurosaki-brat would suffer all the humiliation he had punished Grimmjow with.

"Don't act like you don't like it," Kurosaki smirked after the eighth day of his stay in the human world, cocking his hip. "Your closet perverted side enjoys my actions, doesn't it?"

"You're disgusting."

The ninth day and his patience was running short.

So was Kurosaki's.

Grimmjow couldn't believe that this was happening. He hoped it was just a stupid nightmare. But thinking about it, his whole life was a nightmare, especially since Kurosaki entered it (or his body for that matter). Nevertheless, his eyes were glued open, his jaw slack and his arms and legs shaking with frustration, desperation and a hint of fear and horror.

Kurosaki was touching him. Touching him. Like – gah! He had felt it before, was tortured this way more than once, but never ever did it last more than ten seconds until he was able to jerk his consciousness away. This time, it didn't work. A mantra of 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout' didn't help like the previous times, and Grimmjow was shell-shocked when Kurosaki continued his ministrations, smiling a creepy smile.

"Grimmjow," he breathed into his ear, his hand moving. (upanddownupanddownupanddown) "Grimmjow." It sounded almost like a mewl. Something dark and smoky was tinting those brown eyes when the redhead looked up again, his nose bumping with Grimmjow's. A tongue came out and gave Grimmjow's pale nose a quick lick. "Grimmjow..."

"Stop it!" he managed to choke out.

"But you're delicious..." Kurosaki argued, his mouth pouting before he buried his face into Grimmjow's neck, inhaling deeply and nipping at the skin.

"Delicious my ass..."

Kurosaki grinned. "Sure it is..."

Grimmjow choked on his spit. His sacred territory was violated. His fuckin' sacred terito- His eyes went wide, he choked and bristled and blushed – of all things – trying to form a long colorful string of curses. But everything coming out was: "Shit." And his face flamed bright red. He threw his head back when those perverted fingers probed him restlessly, feeling him up on the wrong places – and holy shit, was he moaning or what!


"Fucking shiiiiii-"

"Grimmjow, you bastard!"

When he opened his eyes so fast that his lid were almost sent flying, he felt cold metal pushing against his throat. Several different, sharp metal things. It seemed his day had gone from bad to worse. Even more so when he felt a small, big problem in his pants, thanking that the material was wide enough to cover it.

A foot kicked him in the jaw, making him stumble back. He hit a trash can in the alley he had been hiding in before Kurosaki felt his own urges again. Little bastard.

Apropos bastard...

He barely had time to look around himself, feeling so slow compared to his usual speed, and to notice the big group of shinigami and other irritating specimen before he was shoved down the cold floor again. He knew the bitch that was currently shouting at him, presenting him with a vivid explanation of their hatred towards him and how he would regret being born. Or something like that.

Ironically, he was dragged to the freak that had yet to find a solution for his little problem. Obviously, he wasn't too concerned about it.

"Grimmjow-san! What a pleasure to see you again!" the blonde chirped. "You've changed!"

The arrancar was beaten black and blue on the way to the house of the lunatic. It matched his hair, he thought sarcastically.

"Urahara, we need to go to the underground training field."

"Hmm, Grimmjow will accompany you?" Several deadly glares were his answer. "But he devoured Kurosaki-san!"

"You're not helping in this situation!" Grimmjow barked at him before someone kicked his beaten guts.

"Shut up!" was the last thing he heard, then his world faded into a refreshing black – without any little monster plaguing him. Just black. He seemed to flow through his empty or Kurosaki-free head with such relieve that a small smile crept over his face, making him even more relaxed.

His little calming journey in his dark mind came to an abrupt end when he was pulled down harshly, being forced to the ground by what felt like a gigantic magnet. Then a heavy pressure settled on his chest that made him almost unable to breathe. He gasped. The increasing gravity squished his body to the underground, his limps felt heavy and he wished that he could go back to the black nothingness of before.

Unfortunately he made the mistake and opened his eyes, feeling drowsy but surely awake. A guy with thick glasses and a mustache was lying atop of him. He screamed. That was his second mistake. Immediately the door was forced open, revealing his dark nemesis, his personal nightmare, the little monster.

"Grimmjow!" Kurosaki.

Even if Grimmjow had pushed the bulky, glasses wearing guy off of him, he rather handled him than him so that – with an unmanly squeak – he hid behind the other guy. "Get away!" he barked behind his cover.

"Grimmjow, that's pathetic."

"You don't have any idea how much I could care less!"


"Fuck off!"


"I said fuck off!"

Grimmjow felt the bulky guy shrugging his shoulders and soon some other guys were crowding around the entry.

"What's up with him?"

"Jeez, maybe I've overdone it, a bit..."

"Overdone it?" Grimmjow asked slowly with a certain edge in his voice. "Overdone it a bit? You fuckin' perverted rapist! You were molesting me, touching me, feeling me up, you sick fuck!"

The room went silent.

"I swear, if you touch my genitals or other sacred parts of me again, nobody – and I mean – nobody will stop me to shove your head up your ass!"



"Grimmjow, you're delusional."

The arrancar snorted loudly. "You're delusional, you closet faggot! Take one of your little friends for your perverted experiments!" He was so freaked out that Grimmjow forgot that Kurosaki was standing there, as in: standing there in the real world, like: out of Grimmjow's mind.

The realization hit him like a brick. He sharply turned around and jumped away from his cover. Surely, Kurosaki stood there, glaring at him arrogantly, furious, nothing like those creepy eyes back in his 'inner world'.

"I'm free..." He whispered. Slowly a wide, maniacal grin spread over his face, nearly splitting it in two. "Freedom!" Two seconds later a gigantic hole was decorating the wall to the outside of the room.

The occupants shifted.

"Why the hell wasn't he tied up with reiatsu-suppressing chains?" someone asked.

Urahara laughed lightly. "Ah, I'm sorry. Forgot."

Everyone's gaze shifted slowly the the redhead standing in the center of the room.

"Well, Ichigo, about what the bastard said a second ago..."

The only thing coming out of Grimmjow's mouth was snoring. It might be a mystery how the arrancar could snore peacefully in a hidden corner of the human world, but he did. Kurosaki might be the cause of the exhausted state Grimmjow was in; he was content just to be for himself for the first in time in more than two months.

His consciousness was dark. Black. Bare. He shifted in his sleep in the same blackness as before. Compared to the vivid images of his so called 'inner world' this was downright...boring. Don't get him wrong, he was far from wishing the brat back. However, the nothingness made him wary. He wasn't aware that he used to have such a dark dreamlike state before that whole incident crashed over him.

He grunted.

And he slept. He slept for hours, curled up on a hard floor of a random building. Just when he opened his eyes – they felt crusty and drained as if he was out of it for days – the location had changed without his consent. The former bare ground was exchanged with a soft mattress and the wide, cold space was reduced to a tiny, cramped room.

The door opened.

His first reaction was to jump to his feet and plaster himself onto the furthest corner of the room, cowering in fear. Then Grimmjow remembered that he was in full charge of his arms and legs. So the next best reaction was to hold up his hand and blast the perverted redhead away. Just...no destructive ball of energy left his palm. Tentatively he looked at it, shook it and shouted "Cero!" again.

"You know, I thought about the reiatsu-suppressor this time." Kurosaki smiled wickedly.

Grimmjow paled and was halfway to the window (pride or not – he had enough of this fucked up game!) when he was grabbed and thrown to the bed again. Blinking several times, he slowly noticed, that the monster was sitting on his chest with crossed arms, grinning evilly. He tried to jerk his hands up and punch the face into oblivion, but found them bound over his head.

"I thought about that, too."

Grimmjow gave up. He was sick and tired. He was fed up, he was done with it. His trashing stopped instantly, leaving his body slack and unresponsive under Kurosaki's.

Still, the brat grinned, his fingers continued their usual patterns across his torso, his knees were close to his armpits. He bent down, nipping and licking at Grimmjow's skin. But the arrancar remained silent.

A pout. His ministrations went up to his neck, biting it forcefully and pulling onto the flesh. Still nothing. He used his other knowledge, lifted his head so that he was hovering over the other's face and pressed small kisses from one corner of Grimmjow's mouth to the other. Nothing. He nipped and pulled at the lower lip, drawing blood after a while, his hands caressing his sides and shoulders and arms. He drove into the neck again and bit it so hard that someone might think he tried to eat up the other, like he had done to him before. The skin was reddened, covered in bite marks and blood and still, the arrancar had yet to make a move.

"Grimmjow," Kurosaki purred, using his dirtier tricks and a finger went straight into his trousers, quickly founding what he was looking for.

The silence disturbed him. "Grimmjow?"

The guy had shut down. He was unresponsive, didn't made a sound or anything else. "Come on, you can't hold on for long."

How wrong he was.

Whatever the redhead was trying, nothing got a response out of the stubborn man. Even leaving him bare, without any article of clothing – that usually led to a colorful string of curses –, wasn't rewarded with a single sound. He huffed angrily, letting himself drop onto the others chest. "You're no fun." That seemed to be Grimmjow's intention. "But you liked it, didn't you?"


"You know, I could make your accusation of me being a rapist real..."


Kurosaki sighed, crossed his arms over Grimmjow's chest and leaned his head onto them. His eyes run up and down the other man's face, his mask, the tousled hair. The blue eyes were averted, looking at something behind the wall.

"Grimm?" A pause. "I wanted to thank you."

The corner of Grimmjow's eye twitched.

"Probably that pink science freak would have been able to rip me out, too, and I really don't want to think about what might have happened after that. Sure, you only did it because you loathed that guy, but, well, you know, you could have done it anyway, just to hand my ass over to his syringes, scalpels or test tubes. So, yeah, thanks."

"You're a real asshole."

"Why, thank you." Kurosaki chuckled.

"Your way of showing your gratitude is really disgusting."

"You liked it."

Grimmjow snorted. "Far from it." Nevertheless, the blank face turned to the redhead lying on his chest. His breath caught in his throat, when the kid leaned forward again and savaged his lips with gentle nips and a tongue that slipped into Grimmjow's mouth.

In contrast to the previous times in the 'inner world' when kissing like that, Kurosaki forgot that they weren't there anymore. So, yeah, Grimmjow used his new found freedom.


Well, to get things straight: Ichigo lisped for a month after that incident. And he took revenge, of course. Finally, Ichigo's intention of making Grimmjow beg...yeah, it worked, in its perverted entirety.