A/N: Well, hello everyone! Most of you probably think I have abandoned this story, but that's not true! School's just been really hectic, and I really want to prove to you I'm not dead! My birthday was a few days ago, and I spent it writing this chapter! So I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think! Reviews are my muse (:

Also, I wanted to post this as quickly as possible, so I haven't had a chance to properly proof read this, so if you could excuse any errors in this chapter.

Prison Break
Chapter 8

Ichigo wasn't even angry at Grimmjow anymore. He scowled at the papers scattered at his desk. He was furious. It had been three days, and he still hadn't been able to get in contact with the blue haired idiot. Well, at least not in person. He had called a few times, but the same chick kept answering. Franceska. She had laughed and told him that Grimmjow was pre-occupied. And Ichigo did not need her to elaborate. He got the innuendo.

Alright, so maybe he wasn't mad at the fact he hadn't been able to talk to his friend in person. He was mad at the fact that Grimmjow had ditched him for a chick. A chick he had met while drunk. He was sick and tired of Grimmjow using girls, alcohol, and fists for forgetting his problems. Ichigo had seen how upset his friend had been before they had left for the club. He knew this was a way of dealing for Grimmjow. Didn't mean it was a good one.

Especially since it had barely been three weeks since Grimmjow had been out of prison. Who knew what had happened in those two years. Shit. Ichigo felt so bad, he had promised his friend that he wasn't going to get put in there. It just showed how much of a failure Ichigo was. He hadn't kept his word, and that was unacceptable, he felt like he had let his friend down in some big way.

Sighing, Ichigo took a sip of his coffee. The hot liquid was soothing to his throat. He needed it seeing as this was going to be another all night. Yawning, he glanced at his watch, which informed him it was nearing midnight. The orange haired officer opened a new folder. It held pictures, pictures of a very influential business man. Sosuke Aizen was a very busy man indeed. Always on the move, course, that implied other things too. He wasn't exactly part of the surveillance team, but he had convinced Hitsugaya to forward whatever they got. That guy was like a kid sometimes, stubbornly refusing at first.

Brown eyes examined the picture, one in which Aizen had been walking out of a building flanked by his guards, blocking off the crowd of people that had gathered. The picture was slightly pixelated, having been taken from a distance, and not by a very good lense. Ichigo's eyes narrowed when he spotted a vague figure at the back of the crowd, nearly covered by the mass of people. Nearly. He knew who that was, but what the hell were they doing there?

Ichigo reached across the desk, pulling a single sheet out of a small pile. Brown eyes moved across the page, scanning the names on it. About halfway down, he took in a breath, he was right! That was exactly who he thought it was. And he bet headquarters would want to know about this.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out his phone, flipping it open. He wanted to run this through with Renji first. He didn't want to go to Byakuya with something they already knew. Everyone was frustrated enough, no one needed to be told the same thing twice. The already stern superior was easily irritated these days.

I'm on a highway to hell!

The orange haired man jumped, taking a moment to realise it was his phone was ringing. The caller ID flashing Grimmjow – Ichigo was honestly shocked, but hit the answer button without a second thought. The smile on his face appearing after a long time.

"Well what do you know? It's the big man himself. I was beginning to think that chick had kidnapped you."

A snort was heard over the line, "Yea, well I knew you were probably getting your panties in a twist cus I hadn't called."

Ichigo scowled, "Fuck you."

"Aww, missed you too baby."

Laughing, Ichigo shook his head, glancing back at his watch, "You coming home now shithead, or are you going to spend another night with Franceska?"

There was a small pause, and a stretched sigh, "Listen man, I don't know."

"It wasn't a very difficult question, even with your IQ."

"I ain't staying with her, but...I don't want to be a free loader either."

The orange haired man sighed, "Listen Grimmjow we've been through this. You can crash at my place as long you want. I know I've been pretty busy with these homicide and robbery cases but you're not any trouble. It kinda reminds me of college."

Another snort, "I recall our little sleepovers a little differently."

"Yea, cus yours normally involved girls."

They both laughed. "Look, I found a job, and I just want to try to stand on my own two feet again. Kinda get into a routine. You know I can't crash at your place forever. And I'll call so you won't get too lonely. I just...need a little independence."

Ichigo couldn't argue with that logic, sighing, he took in a breath, "Alright man, I get you. Call me if you can't find a place, I'll help you look...And I was going to let you know that I've been talking to a few people of trying to get your file sealed. Nothing's been confirmed yet, but I'm definitely going to make sure it gets approved."

"You're the best berry. I'll catch you later."

Scowling Ichigo ended the call, without even responding the insult. Seriously, how the hell did that nickname catch on? One more reason he never introduced his friends to his dad anymore. That man could be so cruel.

The orange haired cop relaxed in his chair, almost like a burden had been erased from his shoulders. The moment didn't last too long, as he remembered what he'd been about to do before Grimmjow called. Scrolling through his contacts, he hit the green button at the name Renji. He waited as the dial tone played. After two minutes a voice could be heard on the other side.

"Hey man," Ichigo answered, "Listen, what exactly do you know about Baraggan Louisenbairn?"

There was a pause on the other side, "The name does sound familiar. Why?"

Ichigo skimmed his eyes over the paper once again, "His vintage wine store lost around fifteen thousand dollars worth of profit two months ago."

"Ouch...I think he should try sticking to the cheap stuff next time."

"Funny, now here's the interesting part." The orange haired man took another sip of coffee, "I'm looking at a picture of Aizen coming out of that Joint Venture Exhibition two weeks ago. And guess who seems to be on the guest list?"

"Mr. Vintage?"

Ichigo snorted, "Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner."

There was a shuffle of papers on the other side of the line, and Ichigo guessed he wasn't the only one on overtime. He kind of felt bad for his friend, Renji was always being supervised by Byakuya. He didn't know how the other man coped with all that pressure. "Alright, let's see what we have here. The Joint Venture Exhibition is an innovative idea that has the potential to help smaller business target new markets with the financial help and expertise of more experienced sister firms. A brilliant economic aid created by the multi-talented Mr. Sosuke Aizen...Ugh, just what I enjoy, paragraphs of bullshit and jargon." Another shuffle of papers, "Wait a minute...Mr. Louisenbairn's name is not on the guest list. My friend, it looks like we have a party crasher on our hands."

The orange haired cop nodded even though no one could see, "Exactly, and here's my favourite bit. Not even five days after the exhibition, a firm called Timeless Luxury lost over half their orders from high paying clients, and over fifty thousand dollars from their shares and profit."

"Let me guess, it was the becoming stiff competition to Mr. Vintage?"

"Yup, it happened right after they attended the Exhibition requesting a little investment to help win over Baraggan's clients and shareholders. It seems like one big coincidence."

"You know what they say about coincidences."

Brown eyes narrowed at the picture of Aizen that lay on the table, his voice guarded, "Yea, it takes a lot of planning."


As soon as the call had ended, Grimmjow felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. He was currently seated at a small table, he shifted his weight, trying to ease his sore hands, currently tied at the back of a wooden chair. Blue eyes glared at the other occupant in the small room, as they took in his conversation with Ichigo. The one that had been on loudspeaker.

Ulquiorra, who had been sitting opposite him on the table, starred at the phone placed at the centre of the wooden surface. As usual his face expressed nothing, the perfected poker face. But Grimmjow knew him better, he could see the tension in those shoulders, how tightly that fist was clenched, and how emerald eyes burned with concealed rage. The superior always hated Ichigo, hell anyone who was considered a remote threat to the almighty Aizen was disliked by Ulquiorra. Grimmjow almost snorted, what a suck up.

The blue haired man was getting impatient, mostly because his hands were beginning to go numb with the lack of circulation. "Are we done here? I did what you asked."

Emerald eyes regarded Grimmjow, "Do not act as though you have done us a favour. This was an order which you had to perform regardless of your will."

"Well, you've never really said please either."

Grimmjow had gotten use to Luppi answering back to Ulquiorra with no consequence. It was mainly because of that reason he did not expect Ulquiorra's reaction. Cold fingers were suddenly pressed against his throat. How the smaller man had moved so quickly, Grimmjow did not know. All he knew was that it had suddenly become a lot more difficult to breathe. He was seriously getting sick of it.

Ulquiorra starred at him, not moving for several minutes. Finally, a murmur escaping his lips, "I fail to understand his fascination."

It took a minute for Grimmjow's mind to make the connection. Ulquiorra was talking about Aizen. He closed his eyes. Guess he wasn't the only one who felt Aizen had become overly attached. This was not how traitors were dealt with, especially not after he had tried to bring that man down. Grimmjow had always found the way Aizen dealt with him strange. Throughout his time employed at this organisation, Grimmjow had been noisy and resistant to authority, but those piercing eyes never wavered. It was like Aizen enjoyed watching Grimmjow's rebellious attitude.

"Ulquiorra I would appreciate if you did not kill one of my best men."

Teal eyes snapped open. At the same time Ulquiorra pulled his hand back, standing up straight. Both men were surprised. Think of the devil, huh?

The pale man kneeled, his head bowed in respect, "Forgive me Sir, I had over stepped my boundaries."

Aizen nodded, "I do hope I will not be repeating myself a second time." He walked forward, stopping next to Grimmjow, who was currently glaring very intensely at the ground. "Did the phone call go as planned?"

Ulquiorra nodded, head still bowed, "Yes. Kurosaki did not suspect a thing, and it can be confirmed that he will not be interfering with Jeagerjaques's whereabouts."

"Excellent." Fingers slid into Grimmjow's hair.

Emerald eyes glanced at the action, but continued, "Though, new information has come to light which may be troubling to you Sir."

"Such as?" There was amusement in Aizen's voice, obviously not seeing Ichigo as any sort of threat.

"It seems he is investigating the recent robbery cases, and by my judgement, it is quite possible he has some involvement in the homicide cases as well."

"I see, that is quite-"

"Leave him the fuck alone! " Grimmjow snarled, cutting Aizen short, "I did what you asked. He's a cop, course he's going to deal with murders you stupid fuckers!"

The fingers in his hair curled tightly, harshly pulling his head back. His eyes narrowed at Aizen's. There he was standing in that fucking suit, acting like some sort of god. Brown eyes regarded him in amusement, like watching a guilty child.

Aizen did not break his gaze from Grimmjow, even as he called out to Ulquiorra, "You did well. Now will you kindly escort Mr. Jeagerjaques's here to my study. I wish to have a private word with him. " The pale man rose from the floor, and Aizen lips moved to form a cruel smile, letting go of Grimmjow's hair, "If you'll excuse me, I have to discuss this new information with Tousen."

Quietly, he turned walking towards the door of the tiny interview room. A click echoed, now leaving the two subordinates alone. Grimmjow silently fumed. That was uncalled for. He eyed Ulquiorra distastefully, not wanting to be caught off guard again. The smaller man moved silently, coming up behind him to undo the ropes around his wrists. The places where his fingers came in contact with Grimmjow's skin were ice cold. Like the man himself.

Once free, the blue haired man rotated his aching shoulders, bringing his hands in front of him, rubbing soothing circles to ease the circulation. He slowly stood, patting the dust off his dark jeans. He eyed his phone on the table, his thoughts on overdrive. So all those robberies that had been driving Ichigo to exhaustion was because of Aizen. He should've have known. Shit. He needed to find out why it was happening, and he'd have to find a way to let Ichigo know. Without anyone finding out of course, and before things got worse.

Yet, a part of him was scared, he didn't want things to turn bad, he wanted to protect his friend. But Grimmjow had never been very good at that apparently. Not to mention the fact he had just gotten out of prison, and now it was beginning to look like he could get thrown back in. Ichigo may have helped him out once, but he doubted it would be a repeating occurrence. The police would probably think he was willingly returning to this line of work. Grimmjow tried to think of all of Ichigo's recent homicide cases, apart from Di Roy's.

Realisation hit the blue haired man hard.

Di Roy. He had been killed by Aizen. Of course. How had he been so stupid?! The little punk had worked with Grimmjow for the last 4 years. After all, Di Roy was the one that Grimmjow had beaten the crap out of back in that stupid auto shop. Hitting his right eye with that lead pipe was not one of Grimmjow's better decisions. But then again, he never thought when he fought. A swirl of new emotions rose within the blue haired man, the understanding of his friend's death weighing down on him.

When he had seen the pictures back at Ichigo's place, it had just looked a little unreal, and knowing it was being investigated by the police, though he'd never openly admit it, it had given Grimmjow a little peace. Like the killers could be caught. Not now. Not when he knew just how elusive the killers were, and brutal. Crap. Why had they killed Di Roy?

"I am not allowed to disclose the answer to that question. You need not concern yourself with that piece of garbage." Ulquiorra answered.

Grimmjow looked back, and took a minute to realise he had asked that question aloud. A scowl settled onto his features. He took a step forward, course they all thought Di Roy was a low life. He was at the bottom of the food chain. But he was a good kid, always looking out for his family, his sick family. But no one cared. They saw a worthless fool, not someone who regularly talked of working his way up to power. Anger fuelled the blue haired man's words, "Shut the fuck up. Don't you dare talk about him like that."

Emerald eyes glowed for the first time, "It is confusing...You are a man of such strong loyalties."

"What? You of all people should know about it. Little suck up."

Grimmjow had been watching Ulquiorra very closely, and that's why he managed to see the pale man move, allowing him to react. He dropped to the floor, kicking his foot out. Ulquiorra's fall was in no way close to normal, he simply glided towards the floor. Graceful little fucker. A pale hand gripped Grimmjow's ankle, a strong tug and he was pulled to the ground. Cold metal unexpectedly bit into his stomach. Shit. Guess Ulquiorra remembered Grimmjow's old injury, how thoughtful.

"It is confusing as to why you do not show the same loyalty to Master Aizen, always having to be forced like some animal."

Grimmjow sneered, "Is that what you call it? Loyalty? That man doesn't care about us, he doesn't care about you. You could die, and he wouldn't even flinch. We're all just his little soldiers. Do you really not see that?"

Ulquiorra obviously was hurt by the blue haired mans words, pressing the gun further into white shirt, evoking another animal like snarl. "You are gravely mistaken." Without another word, he pulled the man below him to his feet, pushing him harshly towards the door. "Walk."

That was that. Grimmjow may have brought out his superiors wrath, but he felt a little smug, being able to make Ulquiorra doubt Aizen like that, even if it was a split second. Maybe there was hope. He snorted, yea right, and pigs fly. It still made him think, did no one else see Aizen the way he did? Did no one else realise how insignificant they were? They were fools if they couldn't see the truth. Mindless little slaves were what they are. Too scared to be themselves.

Grimmjow internally flinched, even Di Roy had been like that at the start. Always following orders, but once Grimmjow had worked his way up the ranks, he took the punk under his wing, and made Di Roy open his eyes. Think on his own. Guilt began to build within the blue haired man. Was that why Di Roy had been killed? Because he said what he thought? Grimmjow felt responsible, he should've been there, protecting the youngster.

While the blue haired man had been so lost in his thoughts, Ulquiorra had somehow over taken him, leading the way. One would think they were in some sort of maze with the number of corridors. Nope, just one fucking manor estate. Aizen's of course, designed for his most trusted employees, allowing them to be near him at all times. It was on the deep outskirts of town, acres of gardens, private gyms, heated pools, and Grimmjow bet there was a panic room hidden away somewhere. Just another reason he hated the wealthy man, stuck up rich people. They wouldn't last more than two hours on the streets.

The blue haired followed Ulquiorra, walking quietly within the marbled hallways. They had entered the west wing, Grimmjow knew because the decor had changed, from marble to carpet, white walls turned to black, and the number of doors had dropped. They were walking to Aizen's personal chambers. Passing the double mahogany doors, they walked further down the hall.

They reached the end of the hallway, and Grimmjow could honestly say he had never been to this part of the estate, something he had been pretty proud of. He hadn't known it existed. There stood a pure white door, on its own. It didn't have a handle. A small black panel was placed on the wall beside the door. Ulquiorra paused before bringing his pale hand up, knocking lightly.

Silence followed. Blue eyes watched curiously. Suddenly there was a beep, and the door seemed to slide open. Aizen stood on the other side, having changed into casual trousers, and a white dress shirt with a book in hand. Brown eyes watched the two men, a pleasant expression appearing on his face, "Ah, thank you Ulquiorra." He stepped aside, creating room for one to enter.

The pale man bowed in respect, before taking a step to the left, making way for Grimmjow. Sighing, the blue haired man walked into the room. His eyes took in the unfamiliar surroundings as Aizen relayed new instructions to Ulquiorra for the night.

It was a study, and was surprisingly simple. It had a small desk in a corner, accompanied with a big leather chair. A book shelve ran along the entire length of the right wall. Grimmjow walked forward, the left hand side had another seamless door with no handle. Blue eyes noticed the little black panel. But his eyes shifted again to the centre of the room, staring at the large fireplace, currently lit and warming the room quite nicely. It had another leather chair placed in front of it, a soft blanket thrown over its arm. Blue eyes gazed at the lush maroon carpet beneath his shoes.

"By all means, please have a seat."

Grimmjow glanced back, Ulquiorra was long gone, the door once again sealed, leaving him trapped. Aizen stood by the desk, his arms crossed, and the book carefully put down. Those intense brown eyes were fixed on Grimmjow, unnerving the man. He brought his eyes back to the chair in front of the fire. The blue haired man snorted, kicking off his shoes, he chose to seat himself comfortably on the floor facing the fire, watching the rise and fall of flames. He never did listen to orders properly.

Due to the carpet, Grimmjow could barely make out the sound of footsteps as Aizen made his way forward, choosing to sit on the chair next to him. The two sat in silence watching, neither saying a word. Grimmjow waited for the man next to him to move, to say something, anything. Nothing happened. His shoulders relaxed by an inch. Blue eyes glowed from the light of the flames, his thoughts occupying his attention. They wandered, from his current situation, to his life in prison, back to his days in college, and his time spent working in this strange mafia group.

"Why did you kill Di Roy?" Grimmjow hadn't realised he was speaking till halfway through the sentence. He glanced back up. Waiting for a reply.

Aizen seemed genuinely surprised at the question. He eased back into the chair, stretching his legs, crossing them at the ankles, thinking over the question. Brown eyes turned to the blue haired man, a remorseful tone, "Was he your friend?"

Grimmjow flinched, such a small word but it implied so much. He starred at his hands, it was a tricky question, he called very few people his friends. But Di Roy was different, he was a kid who had struggled and strived for something, keeping his eye on the future. And Grimmjow had acknowledged that, he had acknowledged Di Roy. So maybe yes, yes he did think of the punk as a friend. Sighing, he pushed his head back, hardened blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, "Whatever he was, he didn't deserve to die."

Maybe it was the weariness inside Grimmjow that held him still, even as Aizen shifted from his seat, sinking to the floor beside him. Fingers stroked his hair, almost as though he was being soothed. A warm breath was on his neck, lips pressed against the shell of his ear, "Such strong loyalties you have."

Anger bubbled inside the blue haired man, "Not like you know what that feels like."

He was shoved back, hitting the floor hard. Grimmjow groaned, annoyed at being manhandled like that. A weight settled on him, Aizen was so close, above him, whispering, "I know more than you think Grimmjow. I know everything." Lips moved gently from his ear, to his cheek moving up his forehead. Aizen took a deep breath and inhaled, "Did you cry over him?" Grimmjow turned his head away, starring at the flames intensely. "Do you want revenge?" The words were cruel and brutal. The pain of losing a friend left one so defeated, and desperate. It drove one to do dangerous things. They both knew that.

Fingers gripped his chin forcing Grimmjow's face to Aizen, the dark hair man was silent. His face unreadable, till he spoke softly, "I can help you."

Blue eyes widened. The only person Grimmjow wanted revenge on was him, he had issued Di Roy's death warrant. And Nel's, a voice at the back of his mind reminded him. He growled, "You fucking killed him, so I hope you mean you'll let me put your sorry ass six feet under."

The weight pressed down onto the blue haired man, the warm breath back on his ear, "I play no part in what happens between my subordinates dear Grimmjow. I may not have killed him," He felt teeth graze his skin as the lips travelled to the side of his face, "but for you, I can find the killer. I told you, I know everything." Lips against his cheek curved slowly, forming a smile. A wicked and cruel smile, "And knowledge is power."

Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Why help me?"

A chuckle escaped Aizen's lips, "Not for free. I certainly don't extend my help without something in return."

Grimmjow grunted, not quite trusting his tongue to behave. He knew this was a dangerous line he was stuck on, he knew deals made with the devil never turned out well. But even if there was a small chance of finding more about Di Roys death, Grimmjow could entertain the thought. He turned to face Aizen, who was waiting, for him to bite the bait, "What do you have in mind?"

The man above did not answer, simply sliding his hand downwards. Past Grimmjow's chest, down his stomach, dipping underneath the band of his jeans, and boxers. Blue eyes widened, involuntarily trembling at the warmth caused by the tight grip. A hushed voice in his ear, mimicking the nature of a lover, "You."

Grimmjow's breath quickened as the fingers began to move. This was wrong. "I aint a chick you confused fucker." His voice was surprisingly stable, while his mind was over whelmed. His tried to push the man above him. It wasn't worth it, he would rather be ignorant than be touched so intimately by this man. He would find about Di Roy's death another way, hell, he knew more than a few idiots who could never keep their mouth shut. But, it seemed Aizen was a lot stronger than he looked, that lean frame was incredibly deceptive, he was not fazed by Grimmjow's rough shoves.

"Of course you aren't." Fingers moved, and a hiss escaped the blue haired mans lips, his eyes clenched shut. That was foul play. It had been so long since he had been touched like that, so long since he had made love. Made love to her. Almost as if reading his thoughts, Aizen spoke, "Do you have any answers Grimmjow? Seems you leave all your friends to die, be it Di Roy or poor little Nel."

Rage burned inside Grimmjow, blue eyes blazed, a snarl tearing through his throat. With a new found strength, he gripped Aizen's shirt, and heaved, slamming the other man to the ground. Positions reversed. How dare he?! How dare he speak of Nel like that? Shit! He knew, he knew the answer Grimmjow had spent two years agonising over, and there he was, mocking Grimmjow like they were discussing the fucking weather! He leant forward, noses touching, venom dripping from his hoarse voice "Which mother fucker did it?" He pulled Aizen forward and slammed him back down, roaring, "Who?"

Aizen's eyes darkened with unconcealed pleasure, the man on top of him was like animal. From the time he had been told of the beatings Di Roy had received from this man, or the rebellious eyes that constantly burned, Grimmjow demanded the attention of those who surrounded him. And it was attention Aizen wanted to give him, and so much more. He lifted his hands, fisting them in soft blue hair.

The only problem was Grimmjow's unwavering principles, he was not a man to be swayed by lesser deals, Aizen had learnt that a long time, so he had waited, waited till he had the control, till he could make an offer Grimmjow could not refuse. Watching those eyes, he knew he had won, and it would be so much satisfying if the blue haired man was willing. He would the tame the beast, till he was nothing more than a purring cat.

Harshly tugging the hair, Aizen brought their lips inches apart, their breaths blending. He whispered, "I will tell you everything, but you know what I want in return."

Blue eyes narrowed, his head filled with images of her. Her laugh, her smile, and the way she filled with him with warmth. But the images shifted, her screaming for help, screaming for him. An incredible sorrow gripped Grimmjow, smothering him. He knew there was no turning back from this point, but he didn't care, he had made his decision, crashing their lips together.

There was nothing affectionate about the way the two men kissed. It was physical, rough and vicious. Teeth crashing, the heat burning their tongues, no one was thinking, just following instincts. Aizen's hands untangled themselves from Grimmjow's hair, sliding down his back, dipping underneath his shirt, pulling it up. Both men broke apart, saliva dripping from the blue haired man's lips. His white shirt was quickly pulled over and tossed aside.

Aizen sat up, grabbing Grimmjow's thighs, his hands sliding higher, and roughly squeezing the soft flesh underneath the jeans. He kissed the blue haired mans chest, and lifted his head to bite the others shoulder, breathing in that intoxicating scent. He felt fingers undo the buttons of his own shirt. Oh yes, having Grimmjow willing was much better. He pushed the younger man back onto the floor, looming over him.

Brown eyes took in the man below him, the harsh rise and fall of that toned chest, an arm thrown over his eyes, and the faint pink hue that had spilled onto his cheeks, running up to his ears. The image made the blood rush within Aizen. Leaning forward, he kissed the chest that was now covered with a thin layer of sweat. He slid down, running his tongue along the length of the scar on the blue haired man's stomach.

Grimmjow grunted, not knowing how sensitive his injured skin was, it quickly transformed into a groan when a wet muscle dipped into his navel. His nerves were on fire. He was burning up from the inside. The button of his jeans were undone, nails digging into his hips as it was pulled down alongside his boxers. A heard a soft laugh was heard, "Not a natural blue, such a pity."

Not angry enough to retaliate, Grimmjow lay there, waiting. Suddenly, fingers were pressing against his lips, lifting his arm, he saw Aizen had completely undressed.

Aizen pressed his fingers past the moist lips, now pushing them against the clenched teeth. He smiled, "Now Grimmjow," he scolded, leaning forward, rubbing their hardened lengths roughly against each other, earning a hiss, "If you want pain, you only need to ask."

Blue eyes widened at the firm grip between his legs, he instantly opened his mouth, letting out sound that couldn't possibly be him. He allowed the entry of two fingers, wrapping his tongue around them, trying to satisfy the man above him. Grimmjow closed his eyes, he couldn't believe he had been reduced to some sort of whore by just a few touches. It was disgusting.

Wet fingers were pulled out of his mouth, a thin trail of saliva still connected to Grimmjow's lips. They were pressed against his skin as they began to move, down his chin, his neck. Lower, and lower, leaving a path of moisture, sliding past his chest, down to his thighs, traces circles. The slid back up to the base of the blue haired man's hardened length.

A whine was heard, one which Grimmjow would never admit was him. The fingers were teasing him, sliding underneath his balls, applying pressure. "Look at me." Aizen's voice was slightly out of breath, and blue eyes obeyed, keeping themselves fixed at the man. A finger slipped inside, and Grimmjow flinched at the uncomfortable feeling, that was meant for things to go out, not the other way round. A second finger joined the first, causing a hiss to escape Grimmjow's lips.

He gripped the Aizen's shoulders, digging his nails into skin as the fingers were pulled out, and pushed back in, forming a rough rhythm. Lips attached themselves to his neck, working their way up, teeth gnawed Grimmjow's bottoms lip, pulling it forcefully. He felt a hand at the back of his knee, pushing it up, towards his own chest.

The fingers pressed something, and Grimmjow widened his eyes. A strangled moan was heard, throaty and raw. Oh god. He burned from shame. The finger pulled out, leaving him feeling empty. Aizen stared at him, the dark haired man's lips brushed against the raised thigh, a loving gesture, before he roughly pushed himself inside Grimmjow.

The blue haired man's mouth hung open. It was too much, the feeling of something stretching him. He dropped his hands to the carpet, clenching them tightly. Aizen hit that spot again, the one that made him arch, crushing their chests together, slicked with his fresh cum. He felt a breath in his ear, the voice rough, "Wider Grimmjow, spread your legs." And spread he did, allowing the other man to drive in deeper, and harder, curling his toes. It was something Grimmjow had never felt before, he had always worked during sex, never received like this. He felt himself hardened as Aizen hit that spot again, and again.

That greedy tongue was back, licking up the tears on his cheeks. Grimmjow couldn't even tell when he'd started crying, or why. Partly due to the pain flaring up his back, and partly because he knew at the back of his mind he was betraying Nel in the worst way possible.

"Don't think about her." Aizen was furious, slamming into him roughly hitting the spot that made him blind. And for a second, he forgot.

Possessed by lust and need, Grimmjow roared for more, harder, rougher, so that he couldn't think. Think about the man who was defiling him like this. The sounds of skin echoed through the small study. Both men consumed by desire. Aizen moved faster, and Grimmjow responded with each thrust, with each push.

He didn't even know he was capable of creating half the sounds coming out of his mouth. Somewhere along the way he had been turned to his hands and knees, facing the fire, burning from the inside and out. Fingers had been shoved into his mouth, moving in sync with Aizen's thrusts. A hand had wrapped itself around Grimmjow's stiff erection, pumping him. Aizen's knee's pushing trembling thighs further apart, creating more room to drive in deeper.

It was too much. A particular rough tug on his cock, and Aizen hitting that spot inside had the blue haired man screaming out loud, splattering all over the awaiting hand, and the carpet below. Aizen picked up his pace, taking his fingers out of Grimmjows mouth, to tug blue hair back. He hissed into the man's ear, "Say my name." He ordered.

Grimmjow grunted at the rough treatment, his voice still hoarse from the screaming, a violent thrust and he forehead being pressed to the floor, "A-ngh-Aizen."

That was all it took for the dark haired man to throw his head back, and mark himself inside Grimmjow. He took a minute to gain his breath, before pulling out, reaching up to smooth his hair. He watched the man below him collapse from exhaustion. His pale skin glowing as the fire highlighted the sweat sliding across his skin. Brown eyes were delighted as they saw the sticky liquid beginning to trail down shivering thighs.

Yes, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was indeed a beast. And he was looking forward to every minute spent taming it. Today he had cornered the blue haired man for a small taste, but he knew the others pride was still intact. And that was, in truth, Grimmjow's essence. Pride is what made the man. Aizen's eyes burned with desire, to truly make Grimmjow obey, he would need to crack that pride, chip and chip at it till it came tumbling down.

Looking back, Aizen pulled the blanket that had been draped over the leather chair, returning his attention to the other man. He eased himself down next to Grimmjow, gently stroking blue hair. He rested his head onto the floor, watching the blue haired man next to him. The steady rise and fall of that cream chest.

Minutes passed before Aizen pulled the figure close to him, laying the Grimmjow's head on his left arm, draping his right over Grimmjow's waist, trapping the man. He covered them both with the soft blanket. Brown eyes stared silently as the other struggled to stay awake, "Sleep." He ordered, kissing the blue haired man's forehead, a groan was his reply. And Aizen hoped Grimmjow would be consumed by thoughts of this night. For a long time to come.

Grimmjow was cold, too cold. He sensed shuffling around him, and tried to move into a less painful position. He hoped there wouldn't be a round two anytime soon. He felt himself being pulled, the carpet brushing against his skin. Fingers placed themselves in his hair, they seemed to be moving in a soothing gesture, but Grimmjow felt repulsed. It was warm now though, too warm, he could feel the other man's body heat. Some words were spoken, and a pressure on his forehead, Grimmjow tried to tell the pervert to back off, but it came out in more of a grunt than a sentence. The blue haired man's final thought was a question. Just what had he agreed to?