This would have been up previously, but our internet has been down. Chapter six is already written and shall be uploaded within a day or two. Also, bad news; school starts back tomorrow... Year Twelve. Last year. I promised someone important to me that no matter how much I hate school, I'll do my best just because they mean so much to me and asked me to make this year matter, so if my updates start to dwindle, I haven't forgotten; I've just been trying to make good of my promise.

A week had gone by, and Jūshirō wasn't sure how much more of Grimmjow he could take. He was too scared to say a word to the demon, but he hated feeling like he was just an object to the older male. He was standing by the stove, trying to cook dinner for the night, and the demon continuously moved up behind him and licked his neck in a sensual manner.

"What'cha makin', Jūshirō?" Grimmjow asked as he ran his hands up and down his sides. "Will it be delicious like you are?"

Jūshirō shivered and closed his eyes. "...R-ramen..."

Grimmjow tutted as he moved closer until Jūshirō was pressing against his front. "You're much tastier than that. C'mon, baby, just one round?"

Jūshirō choked on a whimper as the demon ground his hips into his backside. He knew he should be used to the treatment by now but every time it upset him; he had just never felt comfortable enough explaining why to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow laughed and moved away. "Every fuckin' time ya act as if I'm gonna rape ya. You should know I'm not gonna do that. Calm the fuck down."

Jūshirō kept his head low as he focused on the ramen in the pot. He did his best to ignore the male wandering around behind him. When at last he pulled out two bowls and served the ramen, he was just relieved to know that Grimmjow had accepted it without argument and moved to the couch so that he could watch the TV.

Jūshirō himself sat at the dining table, eating slowly. He didn't know why Grimmjow was still here, but he knew he had to do something; the stress was killing him. He decided he would eat first and then ask Grimmjow what was going on.

Grimmjow had already finished his food long ago and was laughing as some guy on the television got chopped in half by the killer. He turned his head slightly in acknowledgement as Jūshirō sat beside him but didn't say anything.

Jūshirō shivered and tried not to look at the TV; he had never liked slasher films. They made him uneasy to no end.

"Grimmjow...?" Jūshirō said quietly, hoping that the demon would shift his attention onto him. He was glad when the blue-haired male hummed in reply and continued talking. "...C-can I ask... why you're still here...?"

Grimmjow turned and stared at him incredulously. "The fuck are ya on about? I already told ya; you're my mate and I ain't leaving."

"...I-I don't want a relationship, though..." Jūshirō whispered. "...Please... You'll be happier with someone else, I know..."

"You don't fucking know that!" Grimmjow growled. He reached out and grabbed Jūshirō's shoulders. "Look; I don't know why the fuck you act like I'm going to rape you any second, but you know I'm not going to do that. You're my mate and I have to take care of you. It's that fuckin' simple."

"...I'm mentally unable to have a relationship..." Jūshirō whispered, just desperate to make the other understand that what he wanted could never happen. "...I-I can't..."

"Who the fuck told you that load of bullshit?" Grimmjow asked with a raised eyebrow. "Whoever told you you can't have a relationship is wrong. You've put up with me and my games, right? If you couldn't have a relationship, you'd have had a mental breakdown or some shit. Ya just need some help gettin' there. I'm not gonna leave when I could help you become comfortable with a relationship between us."

Jūshirō put his face in his hands. His shoulders quivered and his voice wavered as he spoke. "...Y-you'll never want me when you find out about my last relationship... You'll think I'm filthy, or a whore or something..."

"Why the fuck would I think that about ya?" Grimmjow couldn't help but be stern. "I'm well aware that I don't fucking know anything, but I know you aren't filthy, and you certainly aren't a whore."

"...The town seems to disagree..." Jūshirō whispered.

"You're going to tell me what the fuck happened to make you like this, Jūshirō." Grimmjow growled. "Tell me."

"I-I can't...!" Jūshirō said, letting a tear slide down his cheek. "...I-I can't..."

"Yes, you can. If someone hurt you, I'll kill them."

"Please, I promise I'll tell you one day, but I can't talk about it without... without remembering, Grimmjow...! It... It hurts too much!"

Grimmjow sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't understand what Jūshirō was experiencing, but he knew better than to push him; he had seen what happens when Ukitake was pushed beyond his limit several times, and he hated the breakdowns Jūshirō had.

"Fine," Grimmjow said, turning back to his show. "But I'll keep you to your promise. I mean it."

"I know..." Jūshirō was hurting, that much was obvious. All he wanted was comfort, but Shunsui wasn't here to give it to him. He moved closer to Grimmjow and curled around his arm, resting his head on the elder's shoulder. Despite the advances the demon made constantly, Jūshirō knew, deep down, that said demon would never hurt him.

Grimmjow had never been one for all that sentimental bullshit, so he didn't do anything other than let Jūshirō cling to him. He wondered about what had happened to do this to the younger, but before he could think too much on it, the kitten Jūshirō had adopted jumped onto his lap and rubbed against him, purring.

"The fuck do ya want, cat?" Grimmjow said as he scratched the fluffball's chin with one finger. "I ain't got nothin' for ya. Piss off."

Jūshirō couldn't help but smile despite his distress; no matter how hard a front Grimmjow put on about the kitten, it was clear that the demon was attached to it if all the pets and hugs the man gave it when he thought no one was watching were anything to go by.

-XX-

The next morning found Jūshirō waking up to an incoming text on his phone. He yawned and grabbed the device, looking at the time before he opened the message. It was seven past six, much earlier than he would have liked to wake up to; he didn't usually get up until about nine. Shunsui was much the same, and he would have slept all day if he could, so if he were up this early, something must have happened.

I had a bad dream about you, the text read. Are you okay?

Jūshirō rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he started to reply back. I am. I feel very sick at the moment, but I am fine.

The reply came through seconds later. Good. Come over today if you can.

Jūshirō typed back a quick yes before he set the phone back down on the bedside table and tried to go back to sleep. His hopes for more sleep were vanquished when Grimmjow pushed the door open and stepped in.

"Why the hell are you up so early?" Grimmjow asked.

Jūshirō glanced up at him and mumbled, "Phone was going off..."

"I could hear that. You 'kay?"

The pale man coughed before he shook his head. "My chest is tightening again..."

Grimmjow sighed. "Roll over."

"Huh?"

"Roll over. I'll massage your back for you."

Jūshirō tensed at these words. "I-I'm fine... I don't need it..."

"You do." Grimmjow didn't wait for an invitation and made his way over to the younger male. He forcibly rolled Jūshirō over despite the protests and sat on him, pinning him to the bed.

"Please, don't..." Jūshirō whimpered, his voice thick with fear; it was as if he thought the demon was going to do something much worse than a back rub.

"Relax." Grimmjow said as he started kneading at Jūshirō's back. It was so full of tension, he was surprised the human didn't have back problems. When at last Ukitake started to calm down minutes later, he smiled. "See? Nothin' bad happening. Feels good, huh?"

Jūshirō nodded. "It... does..."

"Take your shirt off," Grimmjow instructed out of the purest of intentions.

"W-what?!" Jūshirō gasped, tense once again.

Grimmjow started to lift the man's shirt, only to have his hand slapped away and the shirt yanked back down. He sighed. "Jūshirō, it will only feel better to have skin-on-skin contact."

Jūshirō's body trembled. "...P-please... T-this is fine... I-I don't need you to s-s-see my body..."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. Jūshirō certainly was hiding a lot, wasn't he? He sighed. "Alright."

With that said, Grimmjow continued his ministrations and, ten minutes later, was surprised to find the human fast asleep once again. Taking this chance, Grimmjow ever so slowly lifted the sleeping shirt, doing his best not to wake the human.

"Shit..." Grimmjow mumbled as he saw what Jūshirō was hiding. Scars crisscrossed the flesh in long deep strokes, and smaller, deeper ones littered random areas. "No wonder... you didn't want me to see..."

Pulling the shirt back down, Grimmjow stood from the bed and moved back to the doorway, leaving the sleeping male in peace. His mind was full of thoughts about the scars he had just seen, and he couldn't help but feel angry at himself for making Jūshirō feel as if the human couldn't confide in him about what was so clearly killing him inside slowly.