So dear readers, sex after a long wait? [Since January to be exact, sorry for my unintentional cock blocking.]
Can I get a HELL YEAH? ;)
"What the hell was that?" Stark whirled around on his black-booted heel, white Espada robes swishing softly with the quick movement.
"Let's find out." Ulquiorra replied.
The two Espada used Sonido to appear silently at the source of the ominous rumbling, which was causing the very ground to tremble like a growing avalanche. There was a tremendous wind whipping around in the midst of red and black reiatsu strands, hurling little tornados of sand here and there.
"Is that the boy . . .?" Stark asked, sensing the immense power leaking his way.
"I should think so." Ulquiorra took a step backward to avoid a blast from an angry tornado. "But the boy is without his sword. How can he still have so much power in him?"
Someone flash stepped to their side. It was Gin, looking enormously pleased with himself.
"Oh, hello, you two!" He grinned jovially. "Did you come to watch the show?"
"Did you start this?" Stark ignored his question, flicking his gaze from the swirling mass of red and black reiatsu to the Shinigami traitor.
Gin gave him a mock salute. "Of course not. It's the chemicals in Szayel's drug."
"Just what exactly does it do?" Ulquiorra asked quietly, his usually expressionless face stony.
"Actually, your question should be: what doesn't it do?" Gin chuckled gleefully. "You see, Szayel claimed he took the wrong vial to insert into the syringe, which he then injected into the boy."
"Isn't he acting just as Aizen expected?" Stark folded his arms over his chest, watching the seething mass of red and black destroy buildings left and right. "He's unusually submissive and seems to have undergone a drastic personality change."
Gin turned and watched Stark through the slits of his eyelids, grinning malevolently. If the Espada perceived him as intimidating, they did a good job not showing it.
"Do you know why you were created, Stark?" Gin asked softly, the tone of his voice turning sleek and dangerous.
"I represent solitude." The Primera Espada answered cautiously. "The main basis of my creation is derived from one of the sources that lead humans to their death."
"Precisely so," Gin's chuckle was mirthless and slightly chilling. "Ulquiorra characterizes emptiness. Grimmjow signifies destruction. Nnoitra is the root of despair and Yammy symbolizes wrath. People who feel empty and lonely will despair. After despair comes anger and frustration. Through that mixture of feelings, humans begin to break down mentally and hence the birth of insanity, which is why Szayel was created. Another way for people to die is through intoxication, which brings us to the birth of Zommari. Too much of anything is never a good thing, as you may well know. Humans would sacrifice anything, even themselves, for their loved ones. Humans also sacrifice their loved ones for anything they desire due to greed. Those two points give rise to Halibel and Aaraniero respectively. And last but not least, we come to Barragan, the lord of death. Humans aren't immortal, so they die naturally through old age. All of you are the ten Espadas under Aizen's command – his swords, so to speak."
Gin paused to smirk at the two Espada, watching to see if his explanation had any effect. Their faces remained blank; they had heard all of this already.
"Anyway, Aizen had Szayel fabricate a certain type of drug, just so he could test it out on humans. But he wanted to know if it worked on Shinigami as well. A half-Shinigami, half-human was essential for the plan. Who else would fit the requirements if not the Kurosaki boy? Hence your mission to kidnap him and bring him here to carry out the experiment. Well done, by the way." Completing his explanation with a little congratulatory bow, Gin snickered behind one hand.
"I still don't understand," Stark muttered. "What do all of us have to do with Ichigo's annihilation? He's destroying all the buildings in this area and we're not doing anything to stop him."
"Oh yes, we'll get to that soon enough." Gin replied. "But I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet. Think about it. Szayel's drug has just a little bit of each of what all you Espada represent. This is only the first stage of his eradication. And if there's a tiny possibility he still survives the extremities, he'll eventually die though Barragan's ability; age. How would you like to see the worthless Shinigami substitute self-destruct from the inside?"
Ulquiorra and Stark exchanged glances.
"That's pure genius." Ulquiorra replied stoically.
"That's actually kind of sick." Stark made a face and yawned. "I'm so sleepy."
"Aren't you always?" Gin smirked, flapping a hand dismissively in the Primera Espada's general direction. "Anyhow, why don't we just enjoy the show - !"
"There will be no such thing."
Gin and the two Espada stepped back in surprise; they hadn't felt anyone else's reiatsu sneaking up on them.
"Aizen-sama!" Ulquiorra hurriedly dropped to one knee, as did Stark.
"How gracious of you to welcome us into your presence." Grinning widely, Gin stepped closer into his lover's embrace.
"You just didn't notice me, did you?" Aizen smiled lightly, but the warmth of his smile failed to reach his eyes. He turned to Ulquiorra with a puzzled frown. "I believe there is a job for you to carry out."
"Right away, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra bowed his head, and stood up, followed by Stark, who was struggling to stifle his yawns.
"Why are you here?" Gin pouted, leaning his head against Aizen's shoulder lovingly. "I didn't want you to see this mess."
Aizen tightened his grip around Gin's slim waist, pulling him into a tight one armed clasp. "Just like you didn't want me to figure out your silly little scheme?"
Stiffening under Aizen's grasp, Gin forced himself not to quail before the venom in the superior Shinigami's tone. He quickly avoided Aizen's gaze by turning around and staring pointedly at Stark and Ulquiorra as they slashed through Ichigo's angry reiatsu strands.
"The boy is powerful, isn't he?" Running a hand through his silver hair, Gin opened his eyes and sighed. "Well, that's to be expected, I suppose. Soul Society would never accept the likes of him if they didn't realize how immense his strength was developing into."
"Don't try to veer away from the subject, Gin," Aizen replied coldly without relinquishing his grip on his subordinate. "I know just when you're trying to distract me."
"Am I, now?" Gin turned back to Aizen with a devious smile. "How cruel of you to judge me like that."
"Did you forget I have hidden cameras everywhere?" Aizen slid one hand down to firmly grasp Gin's ass, tilting his subordinate's chin with the other. "Not only did I see everything, I heard everything too."
"Of course I didn't forget," Gin chuckled nervously, reaching up to award Aizen with a quick kiss. "I just wanted to see how well Szayel could resist the temptation of sleeping with me."
Aizen responded with a possessive growl.
By now, Ulquiorra and Stark were destroying the whirlwind of tornadoes, Ulquiorra with his bright green Cero, and Stark with his lightning blue one.
"Ooh, what a bad move," Gin snickered quietly; snuggling up to Aizen like a cat would to its master.
Ulquiorra's quiet blast of Cero lasered through the whirling sandstorm, headed straight for the furious mass of power that was Ichigo. Simultaneously, Stark's Cero shot through the night air with a roar, spiraling round Ulquiorra's into the same direction. The impact from both Espada managed to tear down a long row of buildings. Ichigo's red and black reiatsu collided with Stark and Ulquiorra's Cero, combining to form an exceptionally powerful blast of raw energy. The discharge was strong enough to crumble everything in its wake for miles around. Within a split second, Aizen and Gin sensed this, as did Stark and Ulquiorra. The Espada used Sonido to quickly escape to a safer radius of space. Aizen lifted Gin along with him and flash stepped away from the onslaught of danger.
"Oh my, what a gentleman." Gin deposited himself gingerly on the top of a tall white tower. "I knew you cared about me."
"Don't spout nonsense." Aizen replied smoothly, his white robes flapping in the breeze. "You have sand in your hair."
Noting that Aizen hadn't denied his statement, Gin muttered incoherently and brushed at his silver locks. Ulquiorra and Stark faithfully appeared at their side in a second.
"What now, Aizen-sama?" Ulquiorra questioned, surveying the disaster that lay below them.
"We should have some tea." His superior replied.
"Tea?" Stark stared incredulously.
Aizen frowned slightly, keeping his gaze locked on the crumbled buildings. "We aren't in any hurry. I happen to like tea. You could have coffee, if you prefer."
"That's . . . not what I was getting at," Stark stifled a yawn. "It's been weeks since I last slept properly. I want to get back to my quarters as soon as possible."
"Why, were you worried about Lilinette?" Ulquiorra asked, flicking his eyes toward Stark.
"Sort of." Stark offered him a thin smile and turned to look at the crumbled buildings before them. The concern on his face was carefully shielded with a blank mask. "But I think she can take care of herself well."
If Ulquiorra acknowledged the slight doubt in Stark's tone, he did not show it. "I am sure of it."
Stark gave him a silent nod of thanks.
The bubble of red and black reiatsu surrounding Ichigo suddenly cracked and vanished as quickly as it had occurred. While Aizen and his allies watched, the teenage boy's mask shattered into a hundred pieces, turning into ash as soon as it hit the sand. Ichigo dropped to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fell to his side in the sand.
"Spectacular!" Gin clapped excitedly. "Pity he didn't manage to stay awake, though. He did put on a marvelous show."
Opening up a Gargantuan, Aizen grabbed Gin by the arm before walking toward it. "Clean up the mess, Ulquiorra. Stark, send Grimmjow and Ichigo to Szayel's laboratory."
"Yes, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra replied obediently.
Stark just sighed.
Ignoring his Primera Espada's gripe, Aizen stepped into the Gargantuan and dragged Gin along behind him.
"When we get back, I'm going to make sure you get what you deserve."
Gin's gasp of horror was quickly muffled by the Gargantuan as it swirled shut.
There was something, or someone, rustling nearby. Nnoitra could hear the swishing of robes and the snap of something clicking into place. The Quinto Espada reached out with his reiatsu to detect the identity of the being hovering above him.
"Szayel." Nnoitra rasped; his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "What are you doin' here?"
"Shh, don't talk." Pink hair came into his line of vision, and worried ocher eyes scrutinized his face. "How do you feel?"
Nnoitra smirked, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms out. "Refreshed, actually. Why, was I knocked out?"
"Sedated, more like," Szayel said and turned away, fiddling with an empty conical flask in his hands. "I injected some analgesic into your system, so any pain you were feeling before this should have disappeared."
Propping himself up on his elbows, Nnoitra surveyed the white laboratory walls around him. He had definitely caught the concern in Szayel's tone, and he decided that he didn't like the additional pressure it was giving him.
"Tell me what's goin' on."
Szayel stiffened, but did not turn around. Nnoitra narrowed his eyes and waited. The awkward silence stretched out between the two Espada.
"Aizen's been planning something." Szayel finally responded, placing the flask on a table before he dropped it out of sheer apprehension.
"When is he not?" Nnoitra prompted.
"But this time it's different! I know it's something bad."
Amused, Nnoitra laughed; it was rare to see Szayel so flustered. "Oh please. Tell me when Aizen doesn't plan anything bad?"
"Gin's up to something too." Szayel ignored his fellow Espada's rhetorical question. "He made me give him two of the maniac vials. What a disgusting guy."
Sliding off the white bed, Nnoitra snaked his arms around the Octavo Espada, leaning his chin on the shorter male's shoulder.
"Maybe you need to calm down." He whispered, breathing in the peachy scent of Szayel's shampoo. "Maniac vials . . . the ones that make the Shinigami kid horny?"
Nodding, Szayel leaned into Nnoitra's touch. "Yeah, and he'll be my first human test subject, together with Grimmjow. According to Aizen's orders of course."
Nnoitra made a face. "What the fuck for? I know he's a pretty sick pervert, but Grimmjow isn't even close to being a sex object."
"You don't understand." Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Szayel slid off his glasses and wiped at the lenses. "Gin let slip that he's having this bet with Aizen, and it doesn't take a village idiot to piece two and two together. This is probably one of Aizen's fancy whims – the Kurosaki boy is innocent. He was brought here because Aizen wanted to have a little fun with Gin."
"So that's all there is to it? Some silly bet Aizen came up with on a whim?" Grasping the Octavo's slender wrists, Nnoitra stopped Szayel from putting on his glasses again. "Don't wear them, you look cute without them."
"Basically." Feeling his barriers crumble, Szayel allowed himself to be cuddled in Nnoitra's embrace. "I just can't think why no one has slept with the boy yet."
Raising an eyebrow, Nnoitra coughed and carefully looked away. So Szayel still didn't know . . .? "Uncanny, ain't it?"
Shrugging, Szayel detached himself from the Quinto Espada. "Well, it doesn't matter. Maybe Gin wanted to use the vials for himself. I don't know. I could ask, but then he'd come on to me again, and it would take all day just to get him off my back."
"He flirts with you?" Nnoitra asked sharply. There was no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone. "What else does he do with you?"
"Oh, the usual." Oblivious to his superior fellow Espada, Szayel slid his glasses on his nose and shrugged on his laboratory coat. "Slight molesting, lots of verbal teasing, suggestive themes whenever he comes into my lab. He seems to have taken a liking to my bottom as of late. And running his fingers down my back; what's so interesting about another man's back? Maybe I should think about creating a repelling potion . . ."
The pink haired Espada failed to notice the jealous glint in Nnoitra's eyes. With a feral snarl, the Quinto leapt for the Octavo, not caring that he'd knocked over a tray of sterilized needles in his wake. Szayel only had a split second's warning before he was thrown onto the nearest bed.
Ichigo awoke on a soft bed with warm sheets draped over him. He felt sleepy and comfortable, but there was a tickly sensation that was keeping him from going back to sleep. The orange haired teenager glanced down at his arm, then did a double take. There was a thin transparent tube attached to his arm, right below his elbow, stuck in place with a few strips of bandage tape. Light pink liquid was being fed through the tube into his body. Ichigo yanked out the tube with a frown.
Someone must have caught him and drugged him again.
He couldn't really remember much of what happened, but he was pretty sure it had been something big. Had he been involved in a fight? If he had, did he start it? The questions running through his tired brain was making him feel a little woozy. There was a dull ache as he tentatively felt the skin on his arm. He had no idea what the pink liquid was, but he wasn't about to be a fool and stick around to find out. Escape was the first thing on his mind now that he had awoken. He felt his body hurriedly, hoping there weren't anymore of the tubes pulsing chemicals into him. Thankfully, there were none. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, and then hunted around for his jacket. He still had pants on, which was a good thing. Running around shirtless in Las Noches wasn't his idea of keeping a low profile, though. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the blanket and slung it around his torso, wrapping the loose ends up in a wild fashion. Once he was satisfied the trailing blanket wouldn't hinder his escape, Ichigo bolted for the only exit of the room, a violently pink door with a large silver '5' stamped on it.
Ichigo stared at the long stretch of corridor before him. There were many doors on both sides. Quickly, he tried turning the knob of the first one, pinning his hopes on finding a way out. There wasn't anything in the room save for a window that looked like it had been cemented shut. Ichigo frowned and shut the door, moving on to the next one. He opened and closed about ten doors before finally stopping and crossing his arms over his chest in disappointment and frustration.
So the doors only led to closed rooms. Only scant few had windows, and most of them were sealed shut – though to keep what in or out Ichigo had no idea – and he didn't see the point in opening each and every door to check. Instead, the teenager opted for running down the long hallway, looking out for anything that could help pinpoint an escape route. It seemed like he was in an enormous mansion with no end to the amount of rooms. It spooked Ichigo to know that some of the rooms, though bare looking, were dark and held something akin to an eerie presence within. He wasn't one to believe in scaring oneself silly about ghosts – he was a Shinigami anyway, what was the point in being afraid – but those rooms set chills down his spine, like there were slithering monsters in there. What bugged Ichigo was that he couldn't see them.
Gritting his teeth, Ichigo kept on running, keeping alert for anyone – or anything – that might jump out and stop him on his journey to find an escape route. He finally came to a corner, and rushed around it without a second's thought. A forehead collided with a hard chest and Ichigo twisted out of the way with a gasp, stumbling backward from the impact. Warm hands held his shoulders, keeping him steady, and the teenager looked up to meet Grimmjow's surprised eyes.
"Ichigo, are you okay?"
Relief flooded his veins. This was someone he could feel safe with!
Cerulean eyes widened as Grimmjow took a few steps back, his arms full of Ichigo as the smaller male wrapped his arms around him with a happy sigh. He ran a hand through the mop of spiky orange hair, which was deceivingly soft to the touch. Grimmjow brought his hand under Ichigo's chin and tilted so he faced him.
"What happened to you?"
"I don't remember." Ichigo murmured against his bare chest, slender fingers gripping Grimmjow's white Espada jacket. "When I woke up, I was alone. And there were all these scary rooms . . ."
"I'll explain everything to you later. But for now, let's check if you're hurt anywhere."
Grimmjow ran his hands over Ichigo's shoulders, noting the stiff, tense muscles above his shoulder blades. He massaged the teen gently, making sure not to hurt him as he quickly checked his body for bruises or open wounds. Surprisingly, Ichigo's body was unscathed. He gave the teen a puzzled look.
"Why are you wearing a blanket?"
Feeling his cheeks flush, Ichigo averted his gaze. "Couldn't find my jacket, so . . ."
Chuckling, the Sexta ran a hand through his orange hair, bringing his hand to cup Ichigo's chin upward. "Did anyone ever tell you you're cute?"
Ichigo blushed some more, turning a rather nice shade of merlot. "S – Shut up."
"We're in Szayel's labyrinth right now. He keeps a lot of specimens around in some of these rooms." Grimmjow smiled at the teen. "We can find him and let him know I'll be taking you back to my quarters. I've got some clean clothes you could borrow."
Ichigo consented and was led down the corridor in the direction of Szayel's spacious laboratory. As they walked, the teenager slipped his hand into Grimmjow's bigger one, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling his actions generated. He followed after Grimmjow obediently, much like a baby bird would after its mother, right through the steel doors separating Szayel's laboratory from the hallway. There was a soft swoosh as the automatic doors slid shut behind them, and the lights in the dim laboratory flickered on as they headed inward.
"It's empty." Grimmjow muttered, half to himself. "Where would he go?"
There was a wriggly orange and black striped snake specimen in a giant water tank to the left. Unlike most snakes, which were inclined to wriggle horizontally, this one moved vertically, swimming to the top of the tank to prod curiously at the stainless steel covering above its home. Then it swam back downward to the end of the tank before repeating the same thing again. His curiosity piqued, Ichigo stared at it inquisitively.
"Szayel?" Grimmjow called out tentatively, growling something under his breath when he failed to receive a response. "Ugh, let's go look for him. The idiot's probably knee deep in some weird experiment right now."
"Okay." Ichigo agreed simply, sliding closer to Grimmjow as he tore his eyes away from the specimen in the tank.
The Sexta was warm, and Ichigo was suddenly feeling an urge to get closer to him. Maybe the laboratory was cold, the temperature dropped to a certain level to suit the specimens Szayel kept in there, or it could be that Ichigo was just missing some natural contact with another living being. Either way, he snuggled up to Grimmjow's side without a second thought, instantly succumbing to the primordial urges he was feeling. Grimmjow spared him an expressionless glance before leading the way through the laboratory, past the steel and plastic experiment table and the black cushion foldable bed that could be ported around on attachable wheels. The Sexta placed one hand on the handle of a steel door marked '5' and turned it without bothering to knock.
It was bright inside, and a short corridor with only three doors could be seen from their vantage point. There was a set of stairs with plastic covered rungs leading upward from beside one of the doors, where a trapdoor with a hot pink lock was built in. Ichigo scrutinized it, wondering where it would lead to. A secret hideout, maybe?
"Szayel?" Grimmjow called, frowning when his voice echoed out through the hallway. "Jeez, what could he be doing? And why all the doors? It's like he has a thing for keeping stuff behind closed doors. Don't you think, Ichigo?"
Surprised that Grimmjow had aimed a question at him, the teen nodded. "Could be. But then again, I don't really know him very well."
"Neither do I." Grimmjow muttered in reply, knocking on the door to his left before opening it.
He shut the door hastily and leaned against it, looking scandalized. Ichigo blinked innocently up at him.
"Why? What was inside?"
"Some caged animal with fangs." Grimmjow exhaled and jumped a few feet forward when the door behind him vibrated as the unknown being scratched at it from the inside. "Fuck."
"Let's try this door." Ichigo pointed to the door to their right. "Szayel could be in there."
"Highly doubt that." Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, but knocked and opened it anyway. "Oh, it's just some flying bird with -!"
He slammed the door shut and backed away, pulling Ichigo close to his chest in a warm, tight embrace. The teen snuggled closer and breathed in Grimmjow's scent contentedly.
"Didn't know you were afraid of birds."
"I'm not!" the Sexta looked outraged, but Ichigo knew better, judging by the pink tint of blush decorating the tips of the Espada's ears. "I just . . . that thing was covered with eyes."
Ichigo snickered. "I thought you were used to monstrosities like that."
Grimmjow just shuddered in reply.
"Well, all that's left is the last door." Ichigo gestured with his thumb to the door at the very end of the narrow corridor. "Want me to open it this time?"
"It's fine, I'll do it." Grimmjow sighed. "I just really hope he's in there, because I don't know where else he could be. What's with all that crap where he swears he stays cooped up in his lab all the time?"
Ichigo tagged along as Grimmjow sauntered up to the remaining door and laid a hand on the steel handle. He hesitated before twisting it open.
Both the Sexta's and the teen's eyes widened. Ichigo took a small step back, keeping one hand on Grimmjow's arm as the Espada exchanged a surprised glance with him.
"Oh, oh, nnnnn!"
There it was again. It sounded vaguely like a human voice. But there was a lot of grunting, so they couldn't be too sure. Then there were some slapping sounds, and a low moan accompanied by a few animalistic growls.
Grimmjow stiffened. He looked at Ichigo, who was equally mystified. In a low tone, he whispered his conclusion. "That was definitely a voice."
"But whose was it?" Ichigo whispered back, honey brown eyes the size of saucers. "It sounded a little like Szayel if you ask me."
"What?" Grimmjow looked like he was going to be sick. "Ugh."
Ichigo placed a finger against the Sexta's lips, enjoying the surprised look the Espada gave him. There was something stirring in his gut, like it was telling him to lean over and claim those naturally pink, slightly chapped lips that belonged to the handsome blue haired man standing before him . . . but now wasn't the time to let his mind slither about in the gutter. Thumbing down the urge to kiss Grimmjow senseless, Ichigo placed a hand over the Sexta's, which was still holding onto the door handle, and pushed downward.
They were greeted with a naked Szayel on his hands and knees, his shoulder length pink locks messed and clinging to the sweat on his face as he gasped and panted breathlessly, gripping the sides of the simple foldable bed he was on. Behind him, Nnoitra balanced on his knees, thrusting into the Octavo as he held him steady by his hips. His long black hair was flipped carelessly over one shoulder, stray strands sticking to the bare skin of his torso as he moved.
"Ah! No, not there!" Szayel suddenly half-screamed, and proceeded to release a series of long drawn out moans.
"Nn," said Nnoitra, thrusting at a faster pace.
None of them seemed to notice they were being intruded upon.
Grimmjow made a funny noise and slowly shut the door with a soft click. Keeping his back straight, the Sexta lead Ichigo straight out of the corridor and through the lab. He didn't stop walking until he reached one of the tanks that held a few round scaly specimens in bright blue water and sank down to the marble floor. He looked vaguely nauseous.
Settling down on his knees before him, Ichigo looked into Grimmjow's blue eyes with raised eyebrows. "Are you alright?"
"F – Fine."
A slow, kind of awkward silence settled between the two. Grimmjow was thinking that maybe going to look for Szayel with Ichigo in tow hadn't been the best idea after all, what with the recent happenings to the young boy, especially with Nnoitra, since they had both been intimate together, but how could he have known Szayel would be doing that in a room right there? It wasn't like he could predict the future, which was something he wished he had yet could see the consequences of having a skill like that. Predicting when Szayel and Nnoitra would have their next romp was going to be hell on his eyes, not to mention the sanity levels of his mind. Anyway, when did he and Nnoitra get together? He definitely hadn't seen that coming. It was something like a slap to the face, or a kick in the gut. He hoped he wasn't about to heave whatever he'd eaten the night before onto the marble floor. Szayel would throw a fit.
Ichigo was thinking that Nnoitra was kind of like a player. But of course, he was probably better off screwing Szayel, who definitely looked more experienced – if you liked the girly type. It was mainly guessing on Ichigo's part, really. The reality of having lost his virginity to Nnoitra hadn't sunk in yet, but Ichigo vowed he would stab that thought in the chest if it ever brought itself up again. He wasn't sure how to face Nnoitra after this, but that was something he didn't really want to be thinking about while he could spend time with Grimmjow like this. Then he frowned as he wondered why he was suddenly holding Grimmjow on such a high pedestal; like he was some gifted celebrity with Ichigo as his personal assistant. The idea amused the teen no end, and he snickered aloud before remembering to cover his mouth with one hand.
Grimmjow was staring at him with a blank look. "You alright?"
"Never been better." Ichigo lied between his teeth.
Normally he wasn't one to lie to people he trusted, but he couldn't just blurt out "I'll be even better if you let me kiss you" to Grimmjow's face and expect to survive, could he? Ichigo smirked behind one hand as he noted the cute expression on the Sexta's face. He looked a little lost and a more than a little annoyed at something.
"Well . . . since Szayel's currently occupied, I think I'll just let you stay in my quarters for the time being." Grimmjow sucked in a breath of air as he considered the awkward effects of his statement. "That is, if you want to stay over."
Ichigo maintained a smile on his face, but on the inside it felt like there were butterflies flitting around leaping frogs in his stomach. What was he getting so excited for? This was Grimmjow, the guy who tried to kill him more than once because he wanted to prove who was stronger. All thoughts of fighting were out of Ichigo's system now. He felt like he was in a different world.
"Lead the way."
Grimmjow's quarters were a sorry affair. The second Ichigo stepped through the wide ornately carved door; he was greeted with an upturned sofa, a jungle of books strewn about in various states that shocked the teen, and a rumpled, unmade bed, complete with trailing blankets and a flattened, squashed pillow. There were two pairs of pants hanging from the panther-head lamp by their belt loops, and one black waist sash tied around one of the window pillars.
The Sexta had the decency to blush, if only a little. "Sorry, I don't really have the time to clean up."
"Busy schedule?" Ichigo felt himself ask out of politeness.
"Yeah, since you've arrived here." Grimmjow muttered under his breath, but Ichigo heard it all the same.
"Well, then." Ichigo said with a bright smile. "Why don't you let me clean up? I won't take no for an answer."
Half an hour later found Ichigo with a neatly stacked pile of books on the white and gray bookshelf, clean and dirty laundry separated accordingly, and a nicely made bed with fluffed pillows and a carefully plumped mattress. He'd hung Grimmjow's Espada jackets and pants together on some hangers, and had dutifully slid the waist sashes through the loopholes of his pants so he could just tug them on whenever. Grimmjow poked his head out from behind the bathroom door, into which he had been shoved into to keep out of Ichigo's way while the Spartan cleaning commenced.
"Love what you did with the place." Grimmjow smirked at Ichigo's pleased-as-pie expression. "You didn't have to, though."
The orange haired teen cocked his head to the side and made a soft clucking noise, the kind he usually made while doing a complex arithmetic question. Grimmjow looked hot; Ichigo liked the way his hair mussed up from the back and partly on his side – that one cute little curl – from where he could totally tell Grimmjow had been leaning against the bathroom wall while waiting. He had an exotic look, what with the teal markings around his eyes – which were surprisingly warm and catlike whenever directed at Ichigo – and the sexy way his mouth quirked up on one end when he gave that knowing smirk.
"Grimmjow, I want to . . ."
Ichigo crossed the room in three strides, willing his heartbeat to slow down and match the pace of his mind, which was currently in a trance-like daze. He felt like he was floating. There was the need to touch – so he reached out with both hands and placed them on Grimmjow's hard chest, sliding his hands upward in a slow motion. He could feel the Sexta's muscles tense at his shoulders, so he applied a gentle pressure, making sure to massage him at the right spots – especially near to the erogenous zones, which was something he'd read in a magazine Keigo had snuck into school between two textbooks and some Chemistry notes.
Oh, there was chemistry alright. Ichigo could feel an excited tingling spreading through his body in his veins, like his blood was on fire. His slender fingers massaged small circles gently up Grimmjow's neck, slowly making his way into Grimmjow's hair, where he threaded his fingers through the lovely blue locks and . . .
Then he was kissing Grimmjow, soft lips meeting slightly chapped ones, and it got easier from there onwards because Grimmjow's lips were parted slightly – either from the shock of being at such close proximity with Ichigo, or maybe because he wanted this as much as Ichigo did: badly – so he slid his tongue in, slipping over and under Grimmjow's while he used his teeth to nibble at the Sexta's lower lip. The kiss felt so good; mainly because Grimmjow was a pretty experienced kisser, and the floating feeling he was having just accelerated. Now he felt like he was in heaven. But it still wasn't enough – yet.
"Can we do it?"
Grimmjow looked at him, a flicker of bafflement crossing his handsome features. "Do what?"
In reply, Ichigo trailed one hand down from Grimmjow hair to his back, tracing the lines and ridges of his spinal cord to the front of his pants. He wasn't hard, but there was definitely a bulge of something Ichigo very much wanted to see. And maybe suck, but if he was good enough he'd get that treat soon.
"This." Ichigo stroked and nudged Grimmjow through his pants. "I want to do it."
"We really shouldn't." Grimmjow managed to get that sentence out before Ichigo's lips were on his again, tongue teasing his own around in circles, preventing him from saying anything more. "Mmph."
Then the black waist sash that held his pants in place – not that it did a very good job anyway, since the pants had a zipper – slid to the floor, and his pants soon followed suit, as did his jacket. Ichigo was in the middle of wriggling out of his blanket, his own pants already discarded, thrown in a haphazard fashion over his shoulder. Grimmjow was pushed onto the bed, where he sat with an unceremonious plop; cerulean eyes boring into Ichigo's hungry honey brown ones as he silently asked the question: "Are you for real?"
"I really, really want to do it with you." Ichigo confirmed his suspicions with a cute pout, straddling his hips and chuckling lightly when the bedsprings creaked under his added weight. "Will you let me?"
Grimmjow swallowed. "But you're confused. You're under some drug influence . . ."
"Don't care." Ichigo's hands were already wrapped around their cocks, pumping and squeezing gently as he slid his fingers around their hard lengths, gaining a good rhythm. "I didn't feel this way with Nnoitra."
The Sexta froze. One hand pushed Ichigo gently off his lap. "How many times did you do it with him?"
Ichigo slid to the floor, keeping his eyes fixated on Grimmjow's thick, pink-tipped cock standing half-erect amidst darker blue pubes, which was stiff and needed his tongue to lick the hardness away.
"Only once." The teen replied, shifting his gaze to meet the Espada's eyes. "But I didn't want him as much as I want you."
Which was true. He'd had common sense and rational thinking back then when he was first fucked by Nnoitra. Right now, all that was left in his brain were urges like want and desire and hunger for the rugged, sexy looking blue haired man before him, sitting nonchalantly on the bed as if he'd done this a million times before.
On the contrary, Grimmjow's mind was awhirl with mixed emotions and conflicting thoughts. He was torn between succumbing to his current primordial needs and giving the wanton boy what he wanted – a good, hard fuck and possibly more, then some cuddling, not because he was growing soft, but because he was sure the boy needed it and god, that orange hair was screaming at his hands to run through them – as well as the words Barragan had told him the other day when he was having a meltdown in the middle of the desert. He weighed it out on a simple scale.
Fucking Ichigo: good for his stifled sexual needs, bad for the teenager and his own standing with Aizen.
Not fucking Ichigo: horrible, cruel, most intolerable on his screaming, raring-to-go sexual tension, not-so-good for the teenager and golden with Aizen.
"I'm going crazy." Grimmjow muttered, not taking his eyes of Ichigo.
"Then fuck me." Ichigo invited as he ran his hands up the insides of Grimmjow's thighs, grabbing his cock without warning and practically devouring the head of his cock with his warm mouth.
The effect was instantaneous. Grimmjow stiffened and immediately gripped Ichigo by the head, which had very, very soft hair and had a lovely mouth attached to it. The Sexta shoved the 'not fucking Ichigo' option right out of his mind and gave it a flying kick toward the desert. Why had he even allowed his mind to come up with something as stupid as that when he could have Ichigo sucking his throbbing dick like this?
Ichigo hummed along the length of his cock, making Grimmjow grunt and tighten his grip in his hair. He pulled away, grinning when the Sexta looked at him with a dazed expression.
"Come once for me, Grimmjow."
Before the Espada had time for yay or nay, Ichigo was swallowing his cock again, hollowing out his cheeks for added effect. Grimmjow sucked in a breath of much needed air – he hadn't realized he'd been holding it in for so long – and panted as Ichigo worked his mouth magic not very expertly, but in a still amazing enough manner to make Grimmjow feel good. And then the teen was deep throating him right up to the hilt, the tip of his nose tickling the longer hairs of his pubes as he worked at a slower pace in order not to gag. His actions were sending Grimmjow way out into the universe, spinning alongside a meteor before smashing through a couple asteroids.
"Mmm." Ichigo hummed a little louder this time, making sure Grimmjow could feel the vibrations right up to the roots of the hair on top of his head, and massaged his balls in a gentle circular motion.
With a grunt, Grimmjow made a star go supernova as he came, releasing his come directly into Ichigo's talented mouth with a bang. He rubbed his elbow from where he'd accidentally hit it on the wall as he jerked, but the dull ache was soon forgotten when Ichigo dropped his dripping cock, using both hands to scoop the come up into his mouth, where his tongue greedily lapped up the fluid like it was the only thing he needed to survive.
"God." Grimmjow breathed, running his hands through Ichigo's hair, savoring the soft feel of it. "You're so sexy."
"Let's get you up again."
Ichigo's hands were working at his cock once more, massaging, stroking and gentle squeezing the area near his tip. Grimmjow chewed his lower lip and forced himself not to buck into Ichigo's hands like an impatient child. The teen gave up quickly, standing up immediately only to stagger back a few steps as he lost balance. Grimmjow caught him by the waist, bringing him closer.
"Whoa, watch yourself."
A hungry, lust-filled gaze caught his attention. "Fuck me already; I want you so bad . . ."
Who was supposed to be the impatient one here?
Grimmjow hid a smirk as he guided Ichigo to straddle his lap once more, attacking his nipples – gently, because he knew this was the boy's first time with his teeth – and nipping at the sensitive skin around his chest.
Ichigo threw his arms around his neck when he ran his tongue under his left nipple, using his teeth to tease the pert bud into his mouth before giving him a sharp nip. Grimmjow was hard once more, which was only natural thanks to the wriggling, moaning sex-on-legs on top of him.
"More Grimmjow, I want . . ."
"You want it now?"
More moans, some panting, and a deep breath of air.
He slid his fingers in between the boy's cheeks, smirking into the skin around Ichigo's navel as he noted that his hole was already slick with come. He wouldn't need much preparation, then. Still, it was a good idea to continue being gentle. Grimmjow tested the waters by sliding one finger in, prodding and probing the boy's soft insides. Ichigo moaned and wriggled his hips, pushing with a downward motion in a silent cry for more. Grimmjow inserted another finger, and another, sliding in slowly until his knuckles met his tight, wet hole. As he bent his fingers this way and that, he felt a light bump inside as he brushed one of his fingers against it. Ichigo jerked and yelped. His cock twitched as he buried his face in Grimmjow's hair.
"Oh." Ichigo panted breathlessly. "Hurry, Grimmjow."
"Ready for the real thing?"
Ichigo wriggled his hips again. Grimmjow took that as a yes and removed his fingers, promptly replacing it with the head of his cock. Without waiting for the usual slow process, Ichigo plunged downward onto Grimmjow, releasing a loud moan and several breathless gasps as a light mixture of pain and pleasure rolled over him. Grimmjow himself was taken by surprise.
"S – Shit, Ichigo, don't do that to yourself."
"Mmm," replied the teen, too busy swiveling his hips as he searched for that tender spot inside him that was so hard to reach. "Oh, oh, move Grimmjow!"
Grimmjow grunted and thrusted into Ichigo, pulling out before pounding into him again. He was trying to go at a slower, much more sedate pace, but Ichigo was so impatient and was clenching his muscles every few seconds it was becoming like a contest to see who would come first.
"Don't . . . just relax . . ."
"I don't . . . oh! There!"
There were more moans, which Grimmjow thought was hella sexy, especially when Ichigo would turn his gorgeous face toward him with his mouth open, panting, hands on his shoulders and neck.
Grimmjow complied; just what he was about to suggest anyway. Every upward thrust met Ichigo's downward push in perfect tandem, gaining a good, fast rhythm as Grimmjow repeatedly hit his sweet spot. He felt like he was on fire.
"Oh! Mmm!" Ichigo yelped as he grabbed Grimmjow by the neck, pulling his face closer so their mouths could meet in a clumsy, rough kiss.
Teeth knocked against teeth, and lips were sucked and nibbled after tongues swirled and slicked over each other like writhing snakes. Grimmjow felt the heat pooling in his stomach fill him up like he was about to explode. He glanced up at Ichigo, who was bouncing in his lap with his eyes half-shut, looking erotic and insanely sexy and . . .
The pressure was building up and brimming over its limit, causing Grimmjow to buck his hips in a few more desperate, quick thrusts, hitting Ichigo's prostrate with those moves.
Ichigo came first, spilling his seed over his chest and abdomen, splashing Grimmjow's cheek and neck a little. Grimmjow released soon after inside him due to Ichigo's tightly clenched ring of muscles, filling up his hole and making his fluid dribble out onto the bed.
Grimmjow agreed soundlessly, pulling Ichigo back onto the mattress with him as he claimed his lips for another kiss.
"I wanna do it again."
He'd lost count of how long he'd been living with Grimmjow. Days? Could be months. Years? Nah, he would've noticed for sure. Time passed slower in Hueco Mundo, anyway. No one seemed to mind, least of all Aizen. There were a few jibes directed at Grimmjow like: "Got yourself a new toy?" or "Having fun, aren't you? Don't get too carried away with your new roommate." Otherwise, nothing much going on. Ichigo felt a little weird, living with a guy who wasn't really his friend – yet more than a friend due to his situation, but then again . . . beggars couldn't be choosers.
Today was sunny, which was a welcome change from the drab, chilly mornings that Aizen had created artificially to test his control on the weather. Apparently Gin had done something to make him change his mind, which was a good thing in Ichigo's books. Of course, Szayel had been the one who told Nnoitra, who had then told Ulquiorra, who was overheard by Stark and Halibel, and the news flowed along the grapevine until Stark told Grimmjow, who then told Ichigo after several rounds of amazing sex. And what incredible, mind blowing sex it had been. His ears were still ringing with the muffled, stifled grunts from Grimmjow and his own panting breath mingled with the 'schlick, schlick' sounds of Grimmjow's cock sliding in and out of his . . .
Best not think about that.
Ichigo ran his tongue over the front of his top row teeth, making a disgruntled face when he realized he needed to brush his teeth. But he didn't want to. There was that irritating lazy feeling spiking up inside him, making him lethargic and listless.
All the Espada had left, including Grimmjow. He knew they were out on different missions from Aizen, and the place felt eerily quiet. Left to his own devices, Ichigo floated out of Grimmjow's quarters, moving wraith like through the wide expanse of ornate marble columns and closed doors. His bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floor. He wondered when the Espada would get back. Actually, what he was really looking forward to was Grimmjow coming back after a mission, looking annoyed and moody. Ichigo knew he could definitely change Grimmjow's moods with just a little bit of seduction. Oh yes. He knew just how to get the Sexta wrapped around his finger, lapping from his palm like a big, untamed panther meekly begging for more.
The only difference was that Grimmjow was never meek. Far from it; the Sexta was more feral and bold, always sure of what he wanted. And what he usually wanted, he made sure to get. Ichigo decided he very much liked him that way, anyhow.
After wandering around for a good forty minutes, Ichigo was struck with a sudden brainwave on something else better to do than just walking about aimlessly like a lost cause. He turned and made his way back to Grimmjow's quarters, which were quickly becoming his own as well.
Shutting the onyx marble door behind him with a soundless click, Ichigo wandered over to the unmade bed. The blankets were tossed and kicked and twisted, trailing down to the floor. The rumpled bed sheets looked like someone had rolled around on it for a good two hours. Ichigo sat on the mattress, sliding face down into the comfortable sheets. It smelled of mint and Grimmjow, the now familiar scent filling his nostrils as he inhaled in deeply. There it was again, that tingling feeling in his nether regions.
Clothes were suddenly obstructing pieces of material. Ichigo tugged at his white jacket, similar to the Espada garb, and undid the black waist sash Grimmjow had painstakingly tied for him before leaving for his mission. He was now naked in the room he shared with the Sexta. A small, excited smile sculpted his lips. Then he frowned. Something was amiss. Casting around for something suitable, Ichigo set eyes on an off-white shirt with a gray collar. It was Grimmjow's. Ichigo smirked as he bent to retrieve it from where it was poking out under the bed. The fabric was soft, most likely worn down with wear and tear. It looked like it had been through a dozen battles and still managed to survive. The teenager wondered why Grimmjow wouldn't just have it sent to the incinerator, but then again, it was just like the Sexta not to throw anything he was fond of away.
Bringing the soft fabric up to his face, Ichigo breathed in. Immediately, the scent of Grimmjow invaded his senses, sending thrills up and down his spine. He could imagine Grimmjow's hands on his arms, trailing up and down; the image sent goosebumps all over his skin. Grimmjow's hands shifted to his chest, rubbing slowly, almost teasingly at his nipples before tracing his body shape, all the way down to his hips, where his hands moved forward to tickle his hair . . .
"Oh." Ichigo said breathlessly.
Sometimes his imagination was amazing. This was one of the moments he loved best. He slid his hands up and down his thighs, feeling his cock twitch as he imagined Grimmjow's hands doing the exact same thing to him. Using his nails, Ichigo scraped a long, slow line gently at the skin on his inner thighs, shuddering as he felt his cock give another twitch. This wasn't nearly enough, something was still missing. But his nipples were stiff, which was a good sign.
What would Grimmjow do? Ichigo chewed on his lower lip as he wondered. The Sexta loved to tease, so Ichigo knew he wouldn't just give him what he wanted right away. There would be a lot more teasing foreplay until Ichigo begged for mercy.
Ichigo spread his legs wider, rubbing his bare legs against the soft, rumpled sheets and blankets, feeling the soft blend of materials against his skin. Sliding one hand down from his collarbone to his nipples, he pinched and tugged at them tentatively, pouting when he didn't feel any of the tingling feelings he had felt when Grimmjow had done the same thing to him the night before. Oh, those big, warm hands had felt so good on his skin, and the heat pooling in the lower part of his stomach had even made his vision a little blurry. And Grimmjow's mouth licking the shell of his ear – oh, that had been heaven. It seemed like the Espada knew exactly where all of Ichigo's erogenous spots were – it was amazing. It had been incredible, too. Ichigo peeked down at his throbbing member to find that he was already fully erect. To get turned on by such memories was strangely erotic.
He couldn't take it anymore!
Sliding his hands down to his hot, stiff cock, Ichigo fondled himself, allowing his imagination to run as wild and free as it wished while he jerked himself off. The bedsprings creaked quietly along with his rhythm, patiently taking his weight as he leaned forward and arched his back, rubbing his balls on the sheets of the mattress beneath him. The place was warm where he had been sitting, and he used that to fuel his imagination of Grimmjow's hands stroking his swollen, reddish sacs with those long fingers he so loved sticking into Ichigo's mouth, especially when they were slick with come – Ichigo's own, and sometimes Grimmjow's.
With a soft cry, Ichigo came explosively, panting breathlessly as he watched his come dribble down his fingers and onto the mattress as well as the floor in a sort of trance. He felt like he was in a blissful daze; his orgasm had been mind blowing.
"Oh, that was so good."
The teen tilted his head to the angel on his shoulder and bit his lower lip as he contemplated what Grimmjow would do next.
"Oh, that's right."
His fingers were practically dripping with come.
Ichigo angled his head and proceeded to clean his hands, sucking and licking his fingers as his tongue greedily lapped up his thick whitish fluid. Grimmjow would make him clean it all up and then thrust into him to make him release some more, just to watch him do the same sexy actions again so they could have more sex.
It felt great.
Another tingly feeling was working its way up and down Ichigo's spine. Just once wasn't enough! The teen pouted and let out a cute sigh as he wondered what Grimmjow was doing at the moment. Was he hard at work, showing the Shinigami who was boss? When would he come home? And when he did get back, would he be covered with sweat and a little bit of blood – not his, of course, it had to be some unfortunate soul's – and look all sexy with his hair mussed up and wearing that erotic, smug smirk on his handsome face?
The orange haired teen sighed as he looked down. He was hard again. Time to imagine a different setting . . . like maybe having Grimmjow fuck him outdoors in his Ressureccion form, using his tail to tie Ichigo's wrists together so he could have his way with him. That hungry, desiring look in his cerulean eyes would turn Ichigo's knees to jelly and he would definitely sag against the Espada with a sexy expression on his face – oh, but outdoors? Ichigo squirmed as he visualized the sand getting stuck on his skin, mingling with his sweat and making it totally uncomfortable. Not to mention there would be insects and little desert animals wandering around, too. Ichigo made a face, disgusted.
Oh well, he'd just have to settle for a different sex position on the bed, then. Like having Grimmjow take him from the back with his arms tied up, or thrusting into him from below while Ichigo bounced in his lap.
Now he was even harder than before.
Good. That meant he was healthy. More images came into his mind, and Ichigo smirked as he reached down to stroke himself.
After masturbating several times, Ichigo spread both legs and pressed his knuckles to the soft, sensitive bundle of nerves just under the pinkish skin between his still slightly swollen balls and delicate puckered hole. The feeling was amazing. As he wiggled and nudged his hand here and there, he finally found the sweet spot he was searching for – and promptly released a breathless moan, half-shouting, half-screaming Grimmjow's name. His back arched as he allowed the waves of his orgasm to wash over him, enjoying it while it lasted. His come shot out from the tip of his cock, splattering his face and abdomen, dribbling down his chest to decorate the mattress. As he was slowly brought back to the present time from his orgasmic high, Ichigo sank back bonelessly into the mattress, never having felt so blissful in his entire life.
Alright, scratch that. He'd felt like he was in heaven since Grimmjow fucked him into orgasmic oblivion, but this was second best to that.
It didn't take him long to flick his amber, lust-filled gaze to the open doorway and notice Grimmjow standing there. When had he come in? Ichigo hadn't even heard the door open. The Sexta looked rugged and sexy with his eyes wide, kissable lips parted slightly as he took in the insanely arousing sight before him. He wasn't sweating very much, nor was he covered in some bad guy's blood, but he still looked hot; no doubt about that. The sunlight filtering through the pillared windows were illuminating his handsome face and toned abdomen, and those muscles that peeked through his jacket?
Oh, mmm. Ichigo could feel himself growing hard again.
Smirking, Ichigo was filled with newfound energy from a naughty idea that popped up in his mind. Arching his back upwards again, he fondled his own nipples into hardened, stiff nubs. Normally, he wouldn't be aroused by toying with his own nipples, but the idea of being watched by Grimmjow was turning him on.
"Uhn." Ichigo moaned breathlessly, exaggerating a little as he bit his lower lip and spread his legs in what he hoped would be a seductive pose.
Grimmjow swallowed, suddenly feeling his mouth run dry.
"Come here, you." When the Espada looked frozen to the spot, the teen watched the Sexta through half-lidded eyes and practically purred. "You gonna make me wait, Grimmjow?"
Grimmjow licked his lips and swung the door shut without taking his eyes off the wanton teen writhing on his bed.
Well, lovelies? Thoughts please.