Comatose
Disclaimer: I Don't Own BLEACH or the Song Comatose in Any Way, Shape or Form. BLEACH is Rightfully Copyrighted to Tite Kubo and the Song, Comatose, is rightfully Copyrighted to Skillet.
Rating: Mature Due to Sexual Themes, Alcohol Usage, Crude Language, Angst and Yaoi/Shounen-Ai/GuyxGuy.
A/N: Yay for updates! :D
WARNING: This chapter is rather lemon-ish. Major warning here because of the sexual content/suggestiveness; you've been warned.
B—L—E—A—C—H
Ulquiorra should've seen this coming He should've seen this coming from the moment this…this mess had started!
It had been a few days since he'd last seen Grimmjow—four, to be exact. Not that he was counting. Ok, maybe he was. Maybe. That wasn't the point; however, the point was that the other had lied to him, saying he cared. He couldn't trust the man as far as he could cero him.
This little fact shouldn't bother the younger, though. He should've expected as much. Grimmjow is crude, disrespectful, appalling, and sadistic. Why should the Cuatro Espada of the Arrancar care if someone like that cared at all for him? He set free a breath he didn't know he was holding and closed his eyes. Maybe he cared because he liked those qualities.
As he lay there on his bed, legs curled into his chest and arms wrapped around the pillow his head was laying on and hollow mask discarded, he realized how much this whole experience had changed his attitude towards the Sexta, how much it had changed himself. Another breath was set free and he was suddenly realizing how, for some reason, his shirt felt like it was trying to squeeze the life out of him. He didn't even feel comfortable in his own clothes; more proof of how bad the situation had made him. He sat up and pulled off his jacket, defeated and unwilling to try and fight back against his own body. He laid the article of clothing next to him on the bed and reached up to rub the back of his neck, closing his eyes and trying to relax his still-jumbled mind.
When he opened his eyes again, hand still on the back of his neck, the emerald gems in his head landed right on the window of his room. For several moments, he simply stared at the gray sands outside the dark, always-midnight sky, and the beautiful, pale moon. His hand slid down to his lap and he leaned forward on his knees, head cocking slightly. He stood, grabbed a chair and placed it next to the window, opening it afterwards and letting the cool breezes tickle his bare skin. It was intoxicating; his head leaned back slightly and his eyes closed yet again as he took deep inhales of air.
When his eyes opened again, he allowed his body to sink into the chair carefully, his eyes staring out into the black and white world before him. He leaned forward and laid his arms on the windowsill, leaning his head upon his pale arms afterwards. Yet again, he closed his eyes and allowed the breezes from outside to play with his hair and give his skin goose bumps. It didn't bother him; it was comforting, actually. His breaths were even and gentle; the only sound that could be heard in his room.
I don't want to live
I don't want to breathe
'les I feel you next to me
you take the pain I feel
waking up to you never felt so real
I don't want to sleep
I don't want to dream
'cause my dreams don't comfort me
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real.
His few moments of peace were short-lived. Just like the day he'd gone out to walk around Las Noches, his mind was, once again, clouded with thoughts of Grimmjow. He kept his eyes closed and tried to ignore them. Easier said than done, he discovered. He was fighting a losing battle against his mind, which just didn't want to stay blank. It craved those thoughts of the elder. Defeated yet again, Ulquiorra allowed Grimmjow to invade his mind, once more.
It wasn't long before the pale, young man found himself in a sea of confused thoughts, as he had found himself many times before after the first incident. Now, however, it was a little easier to understand some of the emotions. That didn't make this any easier, however. He wanted Grimmjow here, apologizing to him and telling him that he really did care. He wanted his touch, hungered for his voice, and thirsted for his presence.
His eyes clenched tightly, fighting back the strong emotions that wanted to, once again, make themselves known. His breath became shaky as his eyes trembled with sadness. He inhaled deeply and held the breath for several seconds before letting it go, forcing back those feelings for now and finally opening his emerald eyes and looking out to the landscape before him. His eyes sparkled from the glowing moon above and the moisture that wanted to escape seconds ago. The black and white world outside; it was depressing and colorless, reflecting his current attitude.
The door to his room knocked a few times and Ulquiorra sat up looking over his shoulder. He wondered who could be visiting him. Thinking it may have been Aizen or some other Espada with a message, he answered, not caring of his current shirtless and mask-less appearance.
"Enter," he told whoever it was, voice sounding rather monotonous and stoic. He watched the silver knob turn and the white door soon cracked open. To his surprise, even if he didn't show it, the visitor was Grimmjow. His face was unreadable, lips serious instead of curved into that sadistic grin and aqua eyes half-lidded but piercing. For several, long moments, it was silent between them as their eyes remained locked, staring at each other for what seemed like forever.
Ulquiorra finally broke contact and turned back to his window, leaning forward on his elbows again but keeping is head up. He heard his door close and the click of it, indicating Grimmjow had locked it.
"I don't want to see you," he lied, rather convincingly however.
"You said that if I apologized," Grimmjow began explaining, surprising Ulquiorra with his words. "That you'd believe what I said in the meeting hall."
"I said maybe," Ulquiorra retorted bitterly, fists clenching tightly and his eyes doing the same and trembling with slight annoyance. Yes, he wanted Grimmjow here but, now that he was present, he was annoyed that it had taken the other so long to come forward. That and, obviously, he hadn't forgiven him for everything he'd done to him. Some wounds just don't heal with time, especially if the other who caused them refused to help.
"Fine," Grimmjow agreed. "That just means there's still a chance you'll forgive me." Ulquiorra's eyes perked slightly before falling back to their usual state as he looked over his shoulder to the blue-haired Espada, who was smiling gently. He tried to keep his breathing normal; that small, gentle smile was absolutely breathtaking. His head turned back around and he stood from his place and stood up straight.
Unbeknownst to him, Grimmjow's eyes had widened and he was staring, admiring Ulquiorra's pale skin in the moonlight, mesmerized by the contours of his back and the way light fell into them.
The younger turned around, seemingly in slow motion, and before either knew it, they had locked eyes once again. Grimmjow's were gentle and begging for forgiveness while Ulquiorra's seemed emotionless, hiding behind them a barrage of confused feelings and thoughts that wanted to escape past his pale and black lips. The younger managed to hold himself back, opting instead to walk forward and grab the jacket he'd taken off minutes ago. Not caring of the fact that he didn't have on his hollow mask, he walked around his bed, about to pull on his shirt. He tried to not make any eye-contact with the Sexta.
"I don't want to hear anything from you," he said sternly. Before he could continue, or even pull his arm through one of the sleeves, however, he felt Grimmjow's right, muscular arm come across his pale chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. The younger tried to keep his breaths even and restrained his eyes from widening. Their skin was touching, making contact and exchanging heat. Unexpected enough to throw him off his train of thought, that's for sure.
"You're lying," Grimmjow mumbled carefully and Ulquiorra was surprised that the elder had seen passed his ruse. He was sure he hadn't been that obvious about it. It made him curious as to how the blue-eyed Espada knew. Had he…learned how to read Ulquiorra? If Grimmjow was willing to put in that much effort then maybe the younger could give him a little, too. Besides, learning Ulquiorra's personality wasn't exactly the easiest task.
He turned his head to look the elder in the eye and his arms fell to his sides immediately, his jacket falling to the ground. They stayed perfectly still for several seconds, staring into each others deep eyes and getting lost in them. Ulquiorra wanted this to last, for time to just stop for them so they could stay looking into each other forever. He was tempted to fall into the Sexta's embrace but he refrained from doing so. Then, something unexpected happened…
He got back another memory…
The two stood facing each other, the tiniest of gaps between them. The elder of the two was staring deeply into the emerald eyes before him, admiring the brightness and how well they contrasted against the pale skin of the person they belonged to. A tanner hand reached up to touch the cold, pale face, tracing the cyan markings gently before his face began leaning forward. His lips ghosted over the other's lips but he opted, instead, to brush his lips along the younger's cheek and slide them down to his neck. His hand, the one tracing the markings upon the Cuatro's face, did the same.
Ulquiorra, whose hollow mask had been discarded minutes ago, didn't fight back. Instead, he moved his head slightly to allow Grimmjow more access and even closed his eyes, looking as if he was enjoying the feeling of the other man's lips over his skin. This was mainly because he was enjoying it; every second of it, to be precise. The Sexta's hand eventually made it to the zipper of the pale Arrancar's jacket. He grinned when his fingertips made contact with the small, cold metal.
Keeping his lips connected with the younger's skin, by kissing or gently biting him, he began pulling at the small metal, allowing it to go lower and lower until, finally, the two sides pulled away, granting the blue-eyed Espada full-access to the pale chest of the Cuatro. Grimmjow's face then slowly switched sides while his hand slid down to Ulquiorra's chest, his other hand rising to tangle itself within the younger's ebony strands of hair. The green-eyed Arrancar opened his eyes halfway before adjusting his head slightly, once again. The blue-haired Sexta took the opportunity to continue kissing the pale, exposed neck while his other hand explored the Cuatro's upper body. His fingers trailed through every contour of the pale chest, memorizing each of the younger's abs.
Both hands soon reached up to the upper-ranking Espada's shoulder's and, as he pulled away and brushed his lips against the other's, staring deeply into his emerald eyes, he carefully pushed the piece of clothing off the younger's pale shoulders, allowing it to slide down his arms and fall onto the ground below. The elder's left hand came up and caressed the Cuatro's cheek before sliding down to the back of the younger's neck, making their foreheads connect and forcing their eyes to stay locked.
It ended there. Ulquiorra suspected that the memory following the one he was just granted was when Grimmjow had pulled him closer and later pinned him to the wall. He tried to not shudder at that thought as he broke eye-contact with the elder suddenly and pulled away from him, stepping back and eventually reaching his bed, where he sat down, hands at his sides. His green eyes looked up to Grimmjow's somewhat confused ones. It was silent for a few seconds before he spoke.
"You're right," he told him shamelessly. "I am lying. So, go on; say what you need to say to me." Grimmjow widened his eyes somewhat before they fell and he walked forward and took a seat next to Ulquiorra on his bed. He looked to the younger and smiled gently. Ulquiorra's expression didn't change and the elder's smile faded as he looked to the door. His arm reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, much how the Cuatro did several minutes ago.
"Where can I start?" the Sexta thought aloud.
"An apology would be nice," Ulquiorra responded and Grimmjow glanced over at him. "Afterwards, you can explain why you did it all." The Sexta's hand slid down to his lap and he smiled carefully. It lasted only a few moments before fading, his face suddenly severe with emotion as he hung his head sadly.
"Ulquiorra," his voice began lowly. "I…I don't know how I can really say it…but I am sorry…I…" he shrugged loudly, trying to choose his words carefully. "I…I apologize for what I did…" he choked out finally, eyes downcast and voice matching them.
"You said you did it because you wanted me to feel inferior. You succeeded, so you really shouldn't be sorry, should you?" there was a certain bitterness to the younger's voice that stung Grimmjow when he spoke.
"That's…partially true," the blue-eyed Espada clarified, causing Ulquiorra to widen his eyes slightly, for only a moment. "And I regret that much, too."
"…Partially?" Ulquiorra found himself asking, wondering what other reason the Sexta would do this to him. Grimmjow seemed to understand before looking up and responding.
"I…" His face turned a tint of crimson as he struggled with the words. "I just…" He sighed and looked away again, embarrassed by what he'd say, obviously. "I wanted you…badly. I thought the feelings would leave but…every time I saw you, I realized how much I wanted you to be mine. I thought…I thought that by taking you the way I did…the feelings really would go away, finally. But…" he truly was fighting with what he was saying. Ulquiorra could see that and it made his anger towards the other reduce.
"That night," he began once again and a satisfied, perverted grin pulled at his features as he seemed to recall the heat of those moments. "For one night, you didn't see me as trash," he was smiling at this point, smiling happily instead of smirking psychotically. He was also leaning closer trying to make his point. Ulquiorra leaned back slightly but allowed him to continue. "Not to mention, you actually looked to me with some kind of emotion other than 'unimpressed.' And…I liked it," he finished.
The Cuatro Espada silently swallowed a lump that had made its way to his throat. He was slightly intimidated but he looked through the elder's eyes momentarily. He understood why it was that the Sexta had enjoyed that night, why it had enticed him so much. He wanted more from the younger and, in the state he had been, he had given the elder exactly what he wanted. The younger had submitted to him, and that made the Sexta feel superior.
There was more, however. Ulquiorra, that night, gave Grimmjow emotion and feeling, by giving himself to the other and showing expressions that would, otherwise, not be found on his pale face.
"It started out as just lust," the elder continued, breaking the Cuatro out of his thoughts to look back to the blue-haired Espada. "I just…wanted you. But, after that night…I started thirsting…craving for you to look at me the same way you did, treat me the way you did. I really did want you for myself, so no one else could touch you. Maybe I was asking for too much but I didn't care. My feelings for you…every time our skin touched, those feelings grew stronger, and I wanted that feeling more each time.
"After a couple of times of looking for you, getting what you referred to as my 'instant gratification,' I really was just looking for a quick fix; maybe make the feelings go away by getting some satisfaction. Not that I was ever really able to get that far," the blue-eyed Arrancar said and Ulquiorra momentarily intervened.
"Because of when you looked into my eyes, right?" he asked the Sexta curiously. The elder nodded once.
"Like I said in the meeting hall…you noticed it too," he explained, eyes not meeting the younger's emerald ones. Ulquiorra shrugged quietly.
"I thought I'd heard say something like that…" he mumbled, audible enough for Grimmjow's ears. The elder faced away, eyes closed.
"Every time…every time I looked right into your eyes…I saw everything I did…and what I did to get it. It wasn't fair of me to demand that from you without earning it, and take advantage of you while you could barely stand on your own two feet. So…when that came to mind, I couldn't bear to look at you, much less lay a finger on you," he explained, voice distressed in sadness and deep emotion.
"So you fled every time," Ulquiorra said. "Because…it hurt you. It actually pained you to see me after what you'd done." Grimmjow's aqua eyes reopened and he continued.
"It didn't just hurt me," he clarified, his eyes looking up into the younger's emerald ones. There was a great deal of pain behind his aqua-colored iris's; pain, regret and sadness. Surprisingly enough, it made Ulquiorra's sympathy towards him increase, even after everything. The elder continued.
"It killed me."
The Cuatro Espada tried to not widen his eyes, especially now in Grimmjow's presence, but this small confession did, indeed, shock him somewhat. However, this whole experience had its effects on the younger, too. Effects he would finally make Grimmjow understand.
"Do you…" he began with voice low as he hung his head and held his left arm with his right. "Do you realize what you put me though? How much this…changed me and…hurt me?" he asked, voice almost quivering. "Do you have any idea how drastically you changed my thoughts? How much you…" he paused and clutched his eyes shut momentarily before reopening them and continuing.
"Damaged me?"
"I know," Grimmjow responded, his voice small as well.
"No, you don't," the younger said sternly, causing the elder to look up, slightly thrown off. "You used me," Ulquiorra explained. "Made me feel like trash because I thought you didn't care…and I wanted so much for that to be a lie. I wanted to know that you did care and did regret it. I wanted it to hurt you," he said, the emotion behind his voice making itself known with each new word spoken.
The elder hung his head low.
"You're right," he agreed. "I can't imagine how that must've felt. But, it did hurt me and, I realized, that I did…do care for you…so much. And, even though I can't fully grasp what it is I did to you…I'm sorry I did it; I'm sorry if I hurt you and made you think you were worthless. That wasn't my intention. You're far from worthless, especially to me."
Oh how I adore you
waking up to you never felt so real
Oh how I thirst for you
Waking up to you never felt so real
Oh how I adore you
(Comatose)
Oh...
The way you make me feel
Waking up to you never felt so real.
The younger hung his head at these words, new feelings taking over his system. These were different, however; they weren't negative emotions and they didn't make him feel like rocks were being piled onto his shoulders. In fact, they felt as if they were taking away that feeling, making him feel lighter. It was different but it made him feel rejuvenated. They were calming, these emotions.
He began to bring his head up once more but, when he did, he found Grimmjow's lips hovering dangerously close to his own. His emerald eyes widened slightly and he immediately pulled away, leaning almost fully on his back, on his elbows, to get away from those tempting lips. Grimmjow's widened his eyes at the sudden disappearance of the Cuatro's lips. Ulquiorra's emerald eyes, however, were glaring now, angrily, demanding an explanation for this unexpected gesture.
"What?" The elder asked curiously.
"You do all this and I still don't remember that faithful night, Jeagerjaques," Ulquiorra said sternly, expressing his displeasure by using the elder's last name instead. "You don't deserve me, especially after all the horrible things you've done."
"I figured you'd look over it," Grimmjow said, face fading to slight annoyance.
"I still need time to recover," the Cuatro responded, looking away. "Besides, I never actually said I forgave you, Sexta." Grimmjow looked rather displeased. But he grinned playfully after a few thoughtful minutes, remembering how the chemical he had given Ulquiorra worked and how the younger would be able to get memories back quicker. His mischievous, cat-like eyes looked over to the younger, which was still looking away from him. Grimmjow decided to use this to his advantage.
Carefully, he crawled over Ulquiorra's body, grinning as his legs straddled the younger just below his pale hips. Ulquiorra, of which, noticed too late when the blue-haired Espada was hovering his face over his own.
"Alright then," Grimmjow agreed. "Let me help you."
"Grimmjow, what do you think you're doing?" the upper-ranking Arrancar questioned, trying to keep his voice steady. The elder didn't reply. Instead, he slid his lips past Ulquiorra's and began teasing the Cuatro's neck, biting, kissing, or even licking him. The pale Espada held back several gasps that wanted escape past his lips. His teeth and eyes clenched tightly, holding back the feelings of arousal.
Interestingly enough, tiny flashbacks made their way into his head with each act of affection. He heard Grimmjow growl, pleased, and continued, making more memories return to Ulquiorra's mind.
The younger of the two gasped loudly, clutching the blue-haired man over him at the nape and refusing to let go, his nails almost breaking skin. His breaths were heavy and deliberate, outlining many of his collarbones with each intake of air.
Ulquiorra leaned his head back, allowing the elder more space on his neck. The Sexta, of course, took advantage, increasing the Cuatro's already-racing heartbeat and slightly heavy breaths. He allowed him this blessing for several more minutes before he looked back up into the elder's eyes. It was obvious that the younger's breath was heavier than the man above him. In fact, the Sexta was breathing easily, grinning teasingly with a small, enticed purring resonating from the back of his throat.
The Cuatro wrapped an arm around the Sexta's neck as he lay over him. Their eyes stared into each other for a long time. Grimmjow's were desperate and hungry while Ulquiorra's were hazed over in drunken confusion and also in a bit of a cloud of lust and thirst for the other. The blue-eyed Arrancar let out a hot breath and grinned, exposing his canines. The pupils of his aqua eyes dilated in the darkness, desperate to see the face before them clearly.
The memories may not have been in exact order but the younger didn't care at the moment. The younger Arrancar truly was enjoying this far more than he should be but that didn't matter either. He was in the heat of the moment, exploring new emotions and experiencing new feelings. His pale and black lips let out a long breath he didn't know he had been holding and carefully reached up to glide his fingers across Grimmjow's cheekbone, keeping the other entranced with his emerald eyes and silken touch. Or was Ulquiorra the one entranced? He didn't know anymore.
The younger reached up to the Sexta's face as he lay over him, gliding a pale hand across his cheekbone. He momentarily admired the invisible trail his fingers left before looking into the blue eyes before him. Nervous, shaky, and willing to be in this situation, he dared to lean his face closer, gently kissing the teal tattoo on the elder's left side. Afterwards, his mismatched lips trailed lower, until they reached the Sexta's lower jaw. Another kiss was planted there and, in the next second or two, their lips were ghosting over each other.
Their faces were inching closer together, each tilting their face in their respective direction to allow their lips to fit perfectly into each other, should they meet. Ulquiorra's pale, left hand reached up and caressed his lower jaw, just below the man's hollow mask, and continued back to Grimmjow's nape, gently clutching him there. Their eyes were steadily drooping more and more with each centimeter lost between their lips. However, just when their lips were about to meet, they both stopped. Their eyes looked up into each other for the umpteenth time, staying locked in silence for several long seconds, each feeling an eternity too long.
"Well," Ulquiorra whispered, finally breaking the quiet between them. "I'm waiting," his voice sounded rather discontented. Grimmjow grinned in response.
"With pleasure," he told the Cuatro eagerly, immediately pulling his lips into the younger's immediately after. Ulquiorra's green eyes fell closed the moment their lips met, as did Grimmjow's aqua ones. The upper-ranking Espada teased his comrade, refusing him entry past his lips for several seconds. However, Grimmjow was persistent, managing to force his way through, whether he had permission from the younger or not. Ulquiorra's pale hand slid down the Sexta's neck and he leaned back on it again, his other hand immediately taking its place, reaching up and caressing the elder's mask-less side.
Their tongues fought, wrestling one another for control over the other. It was a seemingly never-ending battle, especially with each male's stubbornness and willingness to fight. Ulquiorra slowly leaned down, fully on his back, using his now-free arm to grip the elder above him at the back of his neck once more. However, his pale hands didn't stop there. They tangled themselves in the Sexta's blue strands of hair, gently clawing at his scalp with his nails.
In the next moments, something interesting happened. As the two Espada's continued in their battle for dominance, Ulquiorra's mind was fighting with visions that seemed so distant before and are now able to make themselves known. Ulquiorra realized that, although this whole experience was extremely pleasing to Grimmjow, the elder hadn't only done it for himself.
Let me help you, the younger recalled the Sexta saying minutes ago. He was doing this to make the younger's memory return. Surprisingly enough, it was working rather well. The memories flowed in, beginning right where the last one he received had ended…
As their lips hovered over each other, their breaths mingling before them, their different-colored eyes met and locked. Grimmjow grinned for two seconds, admiring the emerald orbs that resided within the Cuatro's head. Their contrast against his pale, silver skin intrigued and tempted the Sexta to no end. He absolutely adored that deep difference. Even if the two varied, they still, somehow, just fit.
Not bothering to put it off any longer, Grimmjow finally did what he'd been tempted to do on so many occasions prior. His lips met with the Cuatro's quickly, in a passionate, desperate kiss. It was needy but, at the same time, relieved. Ulquiorra, judgment lost ages ago, merely closed his eyes and returned the gesture and fell into the only other thing he had left in his body, aside from his intoxicated confusion; lust. He leaned back fully and used both his hands to feel the Sexta's scalp and slowly slide his arms around the others waist, hands placed on his muscular back.
The Cuatro's fingers traced along each contour, following the elder's back from top to bottom. Just above the blue-eyed Arrancar's hips was where he stopped and proceeded upwards again. Grimmjow, forced to pull his lips away from the younger, leaned his head back slightly a few times; shivers traveled up and down his spine from the Cuatro's soft touch. He decided this, alone, was quite an embarrassment, which meant he now wanted revenge. He let out a low growl from the back of his throat and exposed his sharpened canines to the younger, the confused tilt of the pale young man's head indication enough that he had heard and seen the gesture.
The elder Arrancar leaned his face into the crook of Ulquiorra's neck, slowly taking a small bit of flesh between his teeth. This elicited a small, pained sound from the younger Espada. This only excited Grimmjow, who continued to bite the skin offered, as well as lick it or passionately kiss it. The bites were hard enough to be slightly painful but gentle enough to not leave any major marks upon the silver neck. This little game amused Grimmjow for a good while. Afterwards, however, he wanted more.
Ulquiorra had a feeling he knew what was coming next but he continued his current session with Grimmjow, allowing his memories to be returned as well. The elder's hand was placed upon his bicep, slowly and deliberately gliding down his pale chest, feeling every one of his muscles, tracing the contours perfectly until the tanner fingers reached the younger's hips. A tiny, almost inaudible whimper-like sound came from his throat. The younger hoped the Sexta hadn't heard it. Unfortunately for the upper-ranking Arrancar, the male above him heard the sound and grinned teasingly against his lips.
After several awkward movements and shuffles on the bed and beneath the covers, Grimmjow had the younger Arrancar right where he wanted him; below him and bare of any clothes. His muscular arms wrapped around the silvery body beneath him, their chests rubbing against each other and sweat mingling. He buried his face into the Cuatro's neck once again, kissing the soft flesh gently, almost as if he were apologizing for what he'd do. His grip around the pale body tightened and the younger could almost swear he heard the Sexta mumble something under a breath.
"I'm sorry."
And the elder took the Cuatro as his; a gasp immediately escaping passed Ulquiorra's lips. His pale hands, which were still around Grimmjow's waist, suddenly clutched the skin tightly. The Sexta growled lowly at his own pain but held back the yelp, knowing that the one before him must've felt ten times worse. Even so, he continued fulfilling his desires, turning one of his most persistent fantasies into a reality. That, alone, pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, the positive, pleasurable thoughts taking their place.
"Grimm…Grimmjow…" the upper-ranking Arrancar struggled to say, his nails clawing down the Sexta's back, leaving behind red ribbons of skin that were almost broken beneath the pressure. The elder didn't respond to his name. He took in a deep inhale of breath and set it free seconds later. Struggled or not, Grimmjow found the younger's voice to be extremely attractive. A tiny smirk found its way onto his features.
After going at it for a while, the atmosphere between them changed. The air was heated; their skin was almost dripping with sweat and previous whimpers of pain had turned into cries of pleasure. Their breaths were heavy and stung their throats somewhat with each new inhale of air. The younger of the two gasped loudly, clutching the blue-haired man over him at the nape and refusing to let go, his nails almost breaking skin. His breaths were heavy and deliberate, outlining many of his collarbones with each intake of air.
"Grimmjow!" Ulquiorra's voice cried out, in a manner very much unlike him. It stung his throat more so than he would've liked but, at the moment, it didn't matter. The elder, however, smiled widely in response to this unexpected outburst. The younger leaned his head back, clenching his teeth tightly and continuing to claw at the Sexta's back.
Ulquiorra was a bit disappointed to know that he had, indeed, screamed out the elder's name. It quickly passed over as the memory continued and he, himself, was being bitten at the neck, once again, by the blue-haired Espada above him.
Soon enough, after a few more of Ulquiorra's screams and Grimmjow's low growling, pleased and pained alike, neither could take it anymore. The elder of the two pulled away and merely sat with his hands on either side of Ulquiorra's body, arms shaky. The two were still breathing heavily; sweat glistened off their skin from the moon shining through the nearby window and their bodies felt extremely delicate. Grimmjow allowed his body to collapse next to the Cuatro's, too tired to continue sitting up as he had been. His face lay on his pillow, facing the younger Espada with his eyes currently closed, their deep breaths the only sound that could be heard in the dark room. His right hand ran itself through his hair, momentarily pushing back the blue strands of hair from his face before they came to their original place once again.
Ulquiorra, of which, put his right arm up next to his head, between him and Grimmjow. He turned his dazed, emerald-eyed face towards the blue-haired other beside him. In that moment, the Sexta's eyes opened halfway and their eyes met once again, staying locked together in a seemingly endless stare. The elder Espada reached his right hand over and awkwardly held his hand with the younger's, their fingers intertwined as well. Surprisingly enough, Ulquiorra tightened his grip in return. Still breathing deeply but inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils now, the Sexta dare not break eye-contact.
However, he didn't expect that Ulquiorra would be the one to do this, his ebony-haired head leaning back on the pillow and eyes closing, his body shutting down as he fell into a deep slumber, his grip loosening. Unbeknownst to him, Grimmjow merely smiled at this before sliding his fingers out of Ulquiorra's nonexistent grasp, gently moving the younger's limp arm across his own silvery chest. Grimmjow then proceeded on moving his own arm across the pale chest of the Cuatro as well, fingers intertwined once again. From there, he fell asleep beside the pale Arrancar in what Grimmjow could only describe as heaven.
Their lips had met again during that final remembrance. For a few more seconds, Ulquiorra held the Sexta at his lips before a pale hand reached to his tanner neck and pushed gently, their contrasting lips pulling away with centimeters between them. The elder's taste lingered in his mouth, his smell still fresh in his mind along with the feeling of the other male's lips over his skin. He looked to the aqua eyes above him. They looked willing for more.
"What is it?" Grimmjow questioned with his voice audible to a whisper and suddenly concerned. His head cocked to one side in curiosity, waiting for a response but his eyes looked worried.
"What do you mean?" Ulquiorra questioned, his voice monotonous but with a hint of the same inquisitiveness as the Sexta.
"Your eyes," the elder responded anxiously. The younger reached a hand to his eyes and he could feel some moisture there. He pulled his finger away and could see it glistening lightly. His eyes widened slightly at his own actions; he hadn't even known that he was crying. He wondered what reason he had for crying until he looked up to Grimmjow once more. In that memory, he felt when his arm slid across his chest along with Grimmjow's. It was a subtle feeling but it was there; he remembered it and he realized that, even though the elder was chasing after his instant gratification, he stayed with him after he got it.
Although this should've been known since he found the elder in bed with him the day after but, the gesture and actions counted. It showed that the elder wasn't completely interested in pleasure only; there was feeling behind it all. He grasped his hand and held onto him as they slept together. Even though the elder's position must've changed during the night, since his arm hadn't been around the younger when he awoke, the fact that he even cared to do so in the first place showed affection from the Sexta towards the upper-ranked Arrancar.
"You…" he mumbled carefully, pausing for a few moments before continuing. "You stayed with me." The elder gave him an even more curious look, wordlessly asking what the Cuatro meant with those words. Ulquiorra understood and explained. "After that night," he said, knowing Grimmjow knew which night in particular. "After you took what you wanted…you didn't leave. You stayed with me, even held me while we slept." Grimmjow smiled gently in response, a smile that practically took Ulquiorra's breath away, yet again.
"Of course I did," he replied, wrapping his muscular arms around the younger's body againwhile he lay atop of him, his face burying itself into the younger's neck. "You're absolutely precious when you're asleep," he said, cuddling into the pale neck of the Cuatro, causing said Espada to blush at the words. "Besides," he continued. "I took you as mine; why would I abandon something after taking it? I…" he paused suddenly, his voice becoming nervous as he felt his face flush with the blood quickly making its way to his face. Ulquiorra waited patiently, cocking his head to one side.
"I…love you."
Even if Grimmjow had proven that with his actions, the younger found himself with his emerald eyes wide at hearing it from the other. It was a solid confession; each word, even if small in quantity, was filled with truth and emotion. He froze in his place, muscles stiffening, thoughts and heart racing. Grimmjow looked up to him, worried at the silent response. He leaned up on his elbows to properly look the younger in his green eyes.
His deep blue eyes looked nervous and downcast, wondering if, maybe, he had gone too far, yet again. He looked away, saddened before speaking to the Cuatro again.
"I understand," he said, breaking the younger out of his thoughts. "You…don't care for me after what I did…correct?"
"No," Ulquiorra responded quickly, his hands clutching the other desperately. "I…I do…I'm just surprised, I suppose. Hearing you say that just shook me a little. But I do care for you; much more than you think, probably. I…feel the same about you, actually." It was Grimmjow's turn to widen his eyes as well, looking back to the green eyes beneath him. He smiled suddenly.
"Say it. Please…I want to hear your voice say it," he said, practically begging. The younger looked away momentarily, feeling the deep heat at his cheeks as well. The Sexta admired the red tint across his pale cheeks as he waited patiently, allowing the younger to prepare his voice for the next words he hoped to hear from the other.
"I…" the younger lost his voice the moment he tried to speak. He knew he felt the same towards the elder; why was it so hard to admit it then? Perhaps it was just the new feelings taking control, some positive, some negative. He pushed away the negative things, knowing this was what he wanted. He met Grimmjow's eyes again and tried once more.
"I love you."
His voice was tiny, eyes nervous and lips loose. The elder smiled again and wiped away the remnants of the Cuatro's tears. Afterwards, he lay back down on the younger and snuggled into the flesh at Ulquiorra's neck. The younger Arrancar, of which, let his muscles relax as he wrapped his arms around the Sexta's neck, eyes closing as one of his hands tangling itself within the light blue strands of the elder, gently scraping his scalp. This small act sent shivers down Grimmjow's spine but he enjoyed every second of it.
And after laying in each other grasp for several moments, something interesting happened. The positive, light feelings overtook Ulquiorra completely and his stress from the whole incident dissipated entirely. He was no longer weighed down by that feeling of paranoia or rejection. He could no longer see himself as trash, and he could willingly say the same thing about Grimmjow. As his pale fingers played with the elder's blue hair and traced the contours of his muscular body….
He smiled.
For the first time in his life as an Arrancar, his contrasting lips pulled away to form the smallest and most gentle smiles. His eyes opened halfway and he tightened his grip on the elder, burying his pale face into the man's hair. His eyes fell again and he pressed his lips against the Sexta's forehead, content that, even if the trial to reach this point was painful on both of them, they had done it; made it together. Besides…trials make the heart grow stronger.
B—L—E—A—C—H
A/N: Too…long .-. this took like…three days to write D: 6,803 words…but it was well worth it; this story is finally finished! :D I quite like this chapter :3 though, I think I just wrote my first lemon O.o blame my muse, it made me do it! .:Puts hands up in surrender. Gets shot anyway:. Ow…anyway, please R&R, constructive criticism, no flames ;) thanks! I hope anyone whose read has enjoyed!