Favourite drug von xXxcherryblossomxXx (- a GrimmIchi Fanfiction -) ================================================================================ Kapitel 1: It's basically a One-Shot, so ... no chapter titles -------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except my Computer and... no, I'm afraid thats all. So don’t strive to sue me... It wouldn’t be worth the effort. *sobs* ... Ehm... anyway, on with the FF The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, nothing irregular was happening. It was just an everyday afternoon. Nothing to worry about. A nice, calm, ordinary and peaceful afternoon in Karakura-town. Right? Nope, dead wrong. Something was definitely off track. The tension was almost tangible. Ichigo frowned. He was wearing his usual Shinigami-attire, Zangetsu already unwrapped. Grimmjow slowly pulled the corners of his mouth up into a sly grin as he spotted his favourite enemy. The teal-haired arrancar had really been looking forward to this. “You afraid to die, Soul Reaper?”, he leered, never losing his cocky attitude. The grin on his face widened. “’cause you will. And I’ll be the one killing you!” With that said he looked Ichigo over with an almost manic sparkle in his blue eyes. Every inch of his body was tickling with energy. It was almost like he was electrified. The fact that he was about to face this orange-haired bastard in a final battle made his blood boil. Slaughter in general made his blood boil. Adrenaline was rushing through his veines as he set off to attack. The thought of crushing his opponent, piercing his body just to see the blood seeping out of him, taking his life with it... it excited him to no end. It almost turned him on. The still present, vicious grin on his face was effectually betraying his enragement. He shivered in anticipation. He was about to get what he wanted. And he loved when he got his way. “Now bring it on, Soul Reaper!”, he roared and lunged at Ichigo at full speed, a Cero forming in his right hand. Ichigo dodged it skillfully and simultaneously leaped into the air to launch a counter attack, attempting to slice his opponent into pieces. He felt a pleasant tickling dashing through his entire body. Even if he'd never admit it: He was already enjoying the fight. Unfortunately Zangetsu missed his aim. Instead, Ichigo received a fast kick to the head that had him tumbling into the ground. He immediately rebounded and narrowed his eyes at the man that was now looking down on him from above. “That all ya got?”, the Espada asked irritated, meeting his opponents’ gaze, an evil smirk spreading across his face once again. “Not good enough!”, he yelled, kicking off to hit him with another destructive blow. Ichigo was barely able to get out of the way this time. “Dammit, he’s fast!”, he thought to himself, never letting the Arrancar out of his sight. He tightened his grip on Zangetsu and gritted his teeth. Guess I have no choice then. “Ban-kai!” Grimmjow was eyeing him intrigued. Maybe this would be more fun than he’d expected. His grin widened. An aura of dark spirit energy was surrounding his orange-haired opponent. Tremendous power was literally gushing out of him, sending pleasurable shivers down Grimmjow’s spine. Ichigo glared at him with murderous intent, his black, tattered cloak fluttering in the wind. Grimmjow, vicious grin still splayed confidently across his face, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “Now yer finally gettin’ serious, huh? ”, he sneered. But in the blink of an eye Ichigo used flashstep, vanishing from the others’ sight. Grimmjow instantaneously lost track of his opponent and paused dumbfounded, the grin on his face slightly crumbling. Before he was able to retrace the others’ movements, Ichigo was behind him, forcing Zangetsu down on the Espada’s back. A/N: That's exactly the point where I thought I could let y'all read it. Therefore that's all for the first chapter. I know, I'm mean! The evil smut-bunnies must have had some bad influence on me. o_O Kapitel 2: Ehm... still no chapter titles ----------------------------------------- A/N: Hey folks! The next chappie is on. And still no lemon. I'm surprised myself, to say the least. And also a little proud. I actually thought this would turn out to be some bad piece of PWP. Apparently, I was wrong. But it isn't too profound, either. Don't be afraid. *winks* The smut bunnies are still holding me captive. XD Anyway, let's go on. He felt the cold metal slice through the upper part of his torso and clenched his teeth inescapably. Instinctively he retreated a few metres, shooting Ichigo a vicious glare. Blood was soaking his white Espada uniform down from his left shoulder. Ichigo scowled back at him, Zangetsu still in the firm grip of his right hand. Suddenly, the corners of Grimmjow’s mouth curled up into a sly grin again. Ichigo eyed him incredulously. What the hell was wrong with this bastard? Grimmjow’s grin grew even wider. Now he was nearly grimacing, an almost manic glint playing about his features. Ichigo raised Zangetsu to firmly grip it with both hands and swallowed hard, nonetheless bearing up his opponents’ gaze. “That’s how I like it!”, Grimmjow proclaimed. “It wouldn’t be any fun if yah gave up so easily!” Ichigo’s eyes widened in shock. Was this guy really serious? He had hit him with a lethal blow only a few seconds ago and the Arrancar was chuckling? “He must be insane...”, Ichigo thought to himself. He had no idea just how right he was with this notion. Grimmjow was laughing outright madly now. “What didja think? One hit with this kitchen knife of yers is enough ta fucking kill meh?” he inquired. “S’ry ta disappoint ya, but y’have ta do a lot better than that!” In the blink of an eye he was directly in front of Ichigo, already striking out to hit him with a blow to the head. Ichigo had no time to counter as Grimmjow’s balled fist met his jaw with insane strength. He tumbled backwards, almost not feeling the gush of pain that was rushing through his adrenaline-filled body. He regained his balance immediately and launched into Grimmjow again. Grimmjow was still grinning madly as he watched the orange-haired soul reaper lunging at him determinedly. “What’s wrong with ya?”, he shouted. “Yer really disappointin’ me, Soul Reaper!” Another Cero was forming in his left hand. “If that’s all ya got then DIE!” He hurled the ball of concentrated reiatsu towards his approaching opponent. Ichigo disappeared from Grimmjow’s sight completely as he was swallowed by the giant blast of his attack. A smug expression was infiltrating Grimmjow’s features. Then he suddenly heard a deep voice growling. “Getsuga tenshou!” The flaming red light of his Cero was abruptly sliced in half by a wave of dark, crackling energy that was threatening to devour him, to incinerate him, to annihilate him. For a second he stood like a statue, his smile frozen in utter shock. He released another cero just in time to withstand Ichigo’s converging attack and get away with his life. It took a few seconds before the dust had settled. Both the teal-haired Espada as well as his orange-haired enemy were still standing. But both their attacks had left marks on the respective other. A/N: What do you think? I'm grief-stricken, but the fight is still continuing. Next time there'll be some smut. I promise. Luv ya! Bye! Kapitel 3: Aw, come on! Get used to it! No titles! ^^ ----------------------------------------------------- A/N: Hi there! Welcome back! *hands out cookies to readers* (I promised it, didn't I? ^^) Okay. This is either going to be a long, long, loooooooong chapter or I'll have to postpone the promised smut to the next one. *ponders* *notices that the readers are still watching her curiously* Oh, you're still here? You should just go read the FF. I won't reveal my decision anyway. Mostly because I haven't decided yet. XD Anyways, here it goes: Both Grimmjow as well as Ichigo were panting heavily and blood stained their tattered clothes in various spots. The fight had taken its toll on both of them but neither was willing to admit defeat. Actually, it was quite the contrary. Grimmjow was outright enjoying this battle. And as far as Ichigo was concerned: He couldn’t afford to lose against an Arrancar, not to mention an Espada. There was too much at stake. His home town, his friends, his family, everything he loved and cared for. He would risk his life anytime if it meant to protect all of this from being destroyed. Beating Grimmjow meant beating Aizen after all. Well, kind of. But it was a good start, so he thought. He had one shot left. After that he’d be too exhausted to use his Getsuga tenshou again. Ichigo knew he had to employ it wisely if he wanted to stand a chance to defeat Grimmjow. For a moment, neither of them was making a move. Then Grimmjow deliberately raised his hand to his face. “Still not good enough, Soul Reaper!”, he snarled. With the back of his hand he wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. Ichigo was still striving to prepare for Grimmjow’s next move when the Espada eventually unsheathed his Zanpakuto. “I’m gonna take you down, Ichigo Kurosaki!”, he exclaimed, yet another devious grin tugging at his lips as he dashed at his opponent with full speed. He was seemingly untainted with his numerous heavy bleeding wounds. If anything, they somehow appeared to add to his enjoyment instead of breaking his resolve to fight. In a split second the blade was violently cutting the tension-filled air as it was hurtling towards Ichigo. It seemed to nearly crave for a living, breathing victim to slaughter. None too soon Ichigo was able to raise Zangetsu to barely stop the enemy's sword. The force of the mercilessly clashing blades instantaneously stroke a light. This time it was Ichigo’s turn to retreat a few metres. He could barely stand his ground against the literally insane strength his opponent was wielding his Zanpakuto with. Panting for air he tried to use his time wisely and come up with a good plan (or a plan at all, for that matter) to finish this bastard. One shot. That was all he got left. When Grimmjow struck him again, Ichigo avoided his blow just in the nick of time before instantaneously using flashstep to vanish from his opponent's sight. Speed. That was his only edge over Grimmjow. He was faster than his enemy. Just marginally, but faster nonetheless. The Espada could barely follow Ichigo’s movements as he outmaneuvered his defense. Now! “Getsuga tenshou!” Grimmjow's eyes widened in shock; scarcely a split second later he was absorbed by the giant shock wave of crackling dark energy Ichigo had sent his way. He was mercilessly consumed by the plainly destructive force of his attack. It was a full-fledged hit this time. He had had no time to evade it, much less to negate it. Ichigo was panting heavily, shaking from the exhaustion of his past attack, and waiting. Waiting for the dust to settle again. Waiting for a chance to ascertain that Grimmjow was done for. He narrowed his eyes but couldn’t make out anything accurately. He really didn’t know what he expected to come across anyway when the sight finally began to clear. Before the still settling dust could eventually reveal his enemy’s fate, said enemy suddenly lunged at him out of nowhere. And before Ichigo could so much as blink he was pierced by the cold metal of his sword. (1) The blade left his body at his right shoulder, practically impaling him. Ichigo’s face froze in shock, beads of sweat instantaneously forming on his forehead. His brow was furrowed as if he was frenetically trying to find the answer to a very difficult question. Abruptly, the world surrounding him fell silent. The only thing Ichigo could hear now was his own heartbeat, amplified, painfully resounding in his head again and again. As if he was forcibly being seperated from reality. Blood was dripping from Grimmjow’s blade from where it had left Ichigo’s torso. It was almost black, just as his uniform was. At the moment it was steadily and unnoticeably soaking the Haori he was wearing. Ichigo coughed inevitably. The erratic contraction of his thorax muscles caused the sharp blade to slash even deeper. Grimmjow was still fixedly holding the sword in his left hand, keeping it firmly in place, transfixing Ichigo’s body, his other hand on the Soul Reaper’s shoulder. His mouth was only a hand away from his opponent’s ear as he smoothly determined: “I beat’cha!” A smug smile tugged at his lips lightly. His voice was merely a whisper, but it made Ichigo shudder nonetheless. The next moment he received a massive blow to his stomach. He doubled over, tumbling, hurtling backwards. This simultaneously tore the blade from his body, worsening his wound in the process. The power that he was hit with sent him straight towards the ground with incredible might. He crashed into the pavement with almost unbearable force, thus splitting the hard concrete open. Ichigo couldn’t breathe. Grimmjow had literally knocked the air out of him. He coughed up blood, causing it to drip from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t care to brush it aside. Instead, he tightened his grip on Zangetsu, willing to prepare to counter Grimmjow’s next attack. But his body just wouldn’t move, much less stand up. He kept track of his enemy descending from the sky and setting foot on the ground smoothly. Hands in his pockets he lazily strolled over to Ichigo. Judging by his facial expression he had no doubt that he had already won this fight. His whole demeanor was emanating his conviction that he had all the time in the world to come over and finish him off. And he took his time, relishing his triumph to the extremes. Ichigo tried to move with all the strenght he had left. But willpower alone didn’t seem to do the trick. “Dammit!”, he thought inevitably. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” (2) Apparently, not only the solid ground was cracked because of the impact. It probably broke a few of his ribs, too. The stinging ache in Ichigo’s chest was painfully substantiating this idea. He coughed again and spat out another amount of blood. Great. One or two of his broken ribs had probably pierced his lungs if the exertion whilst breathing was any indication. Would be difficult to continue fighting under these circumstances. That was if he could get himself to move, of course. Ichigo gritted his teeth as Grimmjow lazily crouched down beside him. “Aw, you done already?”, he mocked him. “Well, guess I’ll finish you off then.” (1) That would've been an awesome point for a cliffhanger, don'tcha think? XD Oh, never fear! I'm not that mean! *winks* (2) Sorry, I just had to make Ichigo say it. At least once. *kyaaaaa* English dubbing rulez! A/N: O~kay, that's it for now. I'm sorry! Still no smut! But I don't want the chapters to diverge too much in length. Please don't be mad at me! I promise I will make up for it in lemony-goodness! XD Cookies, anyone? :3 Kapitel 4: ... like: duh... X3 (Part 1) --------------------------------------- A/N: Let's start right away. It's almost Lemon-time! >///< Ichigo suddenly felt sick. The expression on Grimmjow’s face, this self-righteous grin he was wearing, the elation he was emanating, the way he was now hunkering over him; it was causing him nausea. It was going against his whole being. Every strand in his body was revolting against it. The fact that, right at this moment, he was at the total mercy of the sixth Espada He even hated the very thought of it! Of him being helpless. Of him being inferior to his enemy. Ichigo clenched his teeth. He had never felt like this before. It was an odd mixture of pain, anxiety, anger, hate and... wait! What was this other feeling warily crawling up his spine? Was it thrill? Agitation? Excitement? The faint desire to submit to his enemy only to see what would happen then? He mentally shook his head. What was he thinking?!? He couldn’t let himself get carried away by such thoughts. Surrendering was no option! The only option was to fight. To fight till the bitter end, if necessary. To give it his all. To protect the ones he loved. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye again. It was to win or to die. Whatever that sudden sensation had been, he had to prevent it from recurring at all costs. It only distracted him. And he couldn’t afford to get distracted in a battle like this. He had to concentrate on his goal if he sought only the slightest chance to turn the tide! Focus! Get your head down on killing him. Ichigo knew he would be done for if he didn’t get himself to move immediately. But that was easier said than done. Come on! He tried to force his smashed body into action. Move! The bloodloss slowly but surely made him feel dizzy and numb. His chances were fading with every minute, with every drop of blood seeping out of his wounds. There was only one thing left he could do. The only option he had left was to ask him for his help. The hollow inside of him. His reverberating voice was echoing in his mind for a while now. --- “Hey King! D’ya want me ta help ya? Ya just have t’ask, ya know?”, he lured. “Lemme take him on. I’ll kill him for ya!” Whenever Ichigo showed some kind of weakness, this bastard inside of him was there, waiting to make his move. Showing up in the most inappropriate of moments. He was trying to take advantage of the situation, attempting to escape from the depth of Ichigo’s psyche. From a prison he could never really escape from. But Ichigo knew better than to trust him. There was no way in hell he’d let him take control of his body (not that his body was of much use in his current condition anyway). Not even in a situation like this. He just couldn’t give him the permission to fight this fight for him. To fight his fight for him! Right? He had to suppress the sudden urge to give in into temptation. Allowing him to control his mind would mean incredible strength. Ichigo knew that. It probably would mean to win the battle. But it also meant to give up himself and submit to his inner hollow. And that was the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to do. “Come on, King”, said hollow purred. “Ya know ya need mah help. Admit it and I’ll save yer sorry ass.” Ichigo frowned. It was harder to withstand him in his current condition than it usually was. But he dubbed all his efforts by acting unfazed. “You think I’d let you take over just because I broke a few bones?” he retorted, pretending to restrain laughter. The hollow narrowed an eye on him. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that kind of behaviour. Ichigo grinned although it was hard to do so while every bone in his body felt like it was broken. The pain was assaulting his senses to a point where it was almost unbearable to stand. “I don’t need yer help, ya hear me? So shut the fuck up already!” he spat out through gritted teeth, trying to retain his posture. A sly grin crossed the others’ features. “Yer barely able ta stand, King.” he stated half amused, half pitying. Ichigo clenched his teeth even harder. This bastard was right. As much as he hated to admit it. “But I still have enough power left to tame you”, he retorted nonetheless. That obviously irritated the other one. “So ya think ya can handle this without me, huh?” the hollow asked rhetorically. His grin widened. “Then don’tcha dare come beggin’ ta me in the end, ya hear meh? Fool!” “I guess you would safe me anyway, wouldn’t you?”, Ichigo cut him off, sounding almost bitterly. That sudden assumption apparently caught his opposite off guard. He fell silent and narrowed his eyes at Ichigo as if he was waiting for him to continue. To see his hollow speechless was a rare occurence, to say the least. Ichigo couldn’t help but let a sly grin cross his features. “’Cause if I die, you’d die, too.”, he added, not sure as to why he was still talking. For a split second, his inner hollow seemed to process that last statement. Then a smug smile tugged at his lips until eventually he was outright grinning. Ichigo quickly reminded himself that it was a really, really bad idea to become too reckless. His inner hollow was a maniac, after all. He needed to be on alert all the time. “Is that so?”, said hollow asked hypocritically while simultaneously approaching Ichigo like a hunter its prey. He sheathed his Zanpakuto. “Then ya don’t need ta fear death, King, dont’cha? Cuz I’ll come ta help ya? We’ll see if yer right, soon, won’t we?” He fleered at Ichigo, his laughter seemingly hundredfold echoing from the reclined skycrapers occupying his world. Ichigo flinched at that burst of laughter as well as the sudden proximity to his unpredictable counterpart. The hollow paused in his movements at once to eye him intrigued. “Ya know, King...”, he stated, suddenly sounding serious. He leaned forward until his face was only millimeters away from Ichigo’s face. Ichigo took a deep breath. He tried to follow his opponent's every movement from the corner of his eye although the strain to keep up his concentration was almost too much to take. The pain was overwhelming him more and more by the minute. “... maybe yer right.” His hollow looked him straight in the eye, a mischievous glint playing about his features. “Yer the only one who’s important ta meh, after all.” With that said he vanished, eventually leaving his orange-haired counterpart alone. Although he was gone, his resounding laughter was still audible throughout this surreal world he called home. “One finished, one to go”, Ichigo thought to himself after gathering himself for a few seconds. He chuckled half-heartedly, this whole encounter leaving behind a bitter after taste. --- Grimmjow was listening attentively. Was this dim-witted Sould Reaper seriously chuckling? Must be because of his vicinity to death. He was probably going insane. A vicious smile spread across his face once again. The thought of finally killing Ichigo Kurosaki was really turning him on. A lot. But somehow he also felt weird. Grimmjow wasn’t quite able to put a finger on it yet but something was definitely off-key. A/N: O~kay, not what you expected, right? Some HichiIchi fanservice! *gets a nosebleed* Although... nothing really happened. (*damn*) Anyway, in the second part of this chapter (which will be on shortly after this part, it is almost finished) there'll be some long promised smut. *kyaaaaaaaaaaaaa* So, stay tuned (pretty please?) I'll be back soon and I'll bring lemons! *winks* Kapitel 5: ... like: duh... X3 (Part 2) --------------------------------------- A/N: *Yay* It's finally on. The second part of this chapter. We'll experience a big surprise, a 'first time' for Grimmjow and some Grimmi-Fanservice. *gets a nosebleed for, like, the thousandth time* >///< *Me luv Grimmjow* Okay, now on with it. Have fun! His hand ruggedly closed around Ichigo’s neck, thus causing the orange-haired Soul Reaper to choke and pant for air. It felt good. Grimmjow’s grin widened as he tightened his grip. It felt really good. To see his enemy writhing at his feet, all covered up in his own blood. Defeated. Knowing for sure that the teal-haired Arrancar was superior to him. A shiver ran down Grimmjow’s spine. But this time it was by far fainter than it had been before their fight. It didn’t feel amazing at all. Not even close to it. He was a little bit taken aback and paused for a moment. He’d imagined it would feel better. Much better, to be honest. He wasn’t nearly as thrilled as he’d thought he’d be. Grimmjow frowned. What the hell was wrong? Why the hell didn’t he feel amazing? The mere sight of his crushed opponent at his total mercy. He’d automatically been expecting it to have the same effect on him like a heavy drug. Heightening the effects of the adrenaline still rushing through his veines. Generally, it did have that effect, after all. So why the fuck wasn’t he high right now? The realization that he positively wasn’t was all the more irritating because said opponent had been Ichigo Kurosaki. The Soul Reaper who he loved to fight the most. The Soul Reaper who he wanted to kill the most. The Soul Reaper who he craved to subdue the most. Before he could get to the point of figuring out what was going on, he suddenly felt a familiar presence approaching him. He glanced over his shoulder, already knowing who he’d come across. “Ulquiorra”, he grumbled, his tone leaving no room for doubts about how totally pissed he was because of said Espada’s unwelcome appearance. That bastard had no sense for timing. Hell, he had no sense for anything at all, for that matter. “What the fuck do you want?” Neither did Grimmjow loosen his grasp on Ichigo’s throat nor did he make any effort to stand up. There was no way in hell he’d let this bastard interfere with his task at hand: Killing Ichigo Kurosaki. Noone would take this victory away from him. Noone would prevent him from doing what he wanted to do. What he desired, to do. “Grimmjow. Disrespectful as always”, the fourth Espada replied untouched. He was looking at the sexta, his face blank as usual. The teal-haired Arrancar scornfully wrinkled his nose. He could literally feel the vein in his forehead starting to pound as he waited for the other one to state his business. His blood was already boiling, although, this time, it was out of anger and not out of anticipation. “You should choose your words more carefully, seeing as you are in no position to make demands.”, Ulquiorra continued impassively. What little was left of Grimmjow’s patience (which was next to non-existent anyway) was rapidly fading. He became more irritated by the second. That pale, gloomy bastard was slowly but surely putting him into a rage. And there was no holding back when he was in a rage. He wouldn’t vouch for anything when it came to this. He snorted sarcastically, actually holding that this was enough of an answer to said Espada’s last statement. “You’re annoying me, scum!”, he added nonetheless. Ulquiorra didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at this insult. Grimmjow bared his teeth, showing strong canines that almost looked like fangs. Okay, enough was enough. Actually, Grimmjow had been resolved to spare this bastard to kill him later. But apparently, Ulquiorra wanted to get himself killed by Grimmjow. Today. So basically it was just an unexpected quickening of the chain of events. He would’ve killed him eventually, anyway. And to Grimmjow, today was as good as every other day. If Ulquiorra was asking for it, who was he to refuse? He clenched his teeth and let go of Ichigo’s throat reluctantly to slowly rise from his crouched position. But before he could so much as say anything else, Ulquiorra cut him off. “I suggest you suspend whatever business you have with your little friend and follow me, Grimmjow. I’m here to escort you back to Hueco Mundo where Lord Aizen will decide on your punishment for contravening his orders. I’m afraid he is not very pleased as to how your mission turned out.” The sexta gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. Fuck! This was not good. He opted for laughing off Ulquiorra’s comment sarcastically nonetheless. But the fourth Espada still showed no sign of emotion, neither amusement nor anger. His face was as blank as always as he waited for Grimmjow to make his decision. It was just a matter of form, though. Fuck! That goddamn son of a bitch! If it weren’t for the consequences, he would've ripped his fucking heart out right now. “Whatever!”, he spat out instead, burying his hands in his trouser pockets. “Why dont’cha go kiss Aizen’s ass instead of constantly being a pain in mine, wimp?” He left Ulquiorra behind to open a gargantua, not deigning to look at the raiven-haired Arrancar who was still eyeing him unfazed. He’d just have to come back later to finish this job. Fuck that suck-up Ulquiorra. Fuck Aizen and his fucking orders. The jury was still out on this. The fourth Espada turned around to follow Grimmjow straigth-faced, finally closing the gate behind them to return to Hueco Mundo. --- Grimmjow was lying on his back on the pallet in his room. It was dark outside. It was always dark in Hueco Mundo, only the pale moon illuminating the bleak desert of white sand that this world consisted of. Not that he did mind at all. Why would he care? He had his eyes closed and his arms crossed behind his head. Grimmjow was by no means someone to reflect previous events. He never regretted anything. He wouldn’t even think twice about something he’d do. Ever. It just wasn’t like him. So it was safe to say that this was a first for him. He was somewhat zoned out, pondering about his latest encounter with Ichigo. He frowned but still didn’t open his eyes. He could’ve killed him. He should have killed him. So why was this goddamn Soul Reaper still alive? That was the question that was preying on his mind since his return to Hueco Mundo. He still tried to ignore it, but it was there nonetheless. He was pissed, to say the least. And that was probably yet the understatement of the year. While Grimmjow was trying his hardest to pinpoint the reason for his recent actions (or the lack thereof, for that matter) and to ignore this specific train of thoughts altogether at the same time (which was doomed to fail, by the way) his right hand lazily traveled down to the waistband of his trousers. The thought of killing that bastard felt so good. Imagining how he’d squirm, convulsed with pain, bleeding, dying. Grimmjow was savouring every aspect of this thought. He leisurely slipped his hand into his trousers and just as leisurely began stroking his length. Fighting Ichigo Kurosaki to the death in a fair fight. Hunting him down. Killing him. A jolt was running through his entire body, giving him goosebumps. But there it was again. A flicker of disappointment. He furrowed his brows and paused in his movements, his hand still loosely wrapped around his already half hard member. He wasn’t nearly as thrilled as he’d been before when thinking about killing Ichigo Kurosaki in multitudinous different ways. It just wasn’t enough anymore. He unhurriedly kept up the movement of his hand again. To kill him wasn’t enough. Grimmjow needed more. It seemed as if his tolerance had increased due to massive consumption of his favourite drug. Now he just needed a higher dose to achieve the common result. He was the hunter and Ichigo Kurosaki was his prey. He craved to subdue him completely. In any possible way. A familiar spark of pleasure was spreading itself throughout his entire body. He picked up his pace, letting himself get carried away with this thread. Fighting Ichigo Kurosaki. Killing Ichigo Kurosaki. He roughly ran his fingers up and down his throbbing length in a steady rhythm. Dominating Ichigo Kurosaki. He sped up his thrusts. Devouring Ichigo Kurosaki. Ichigo Kurosaki at his mercy. An unbearable heat was coiling in his groin. Grimmjow squeezed his eyes shut, his features contorted in utter concentration, his hand never ceasing its sinful task. His grip tightened, creating an even greater friction. He growled, teeth clenched tightly as he quickened his pace. Ichigo Kurosaki beneath him. His cock twitched. He was so close. Only a little more... Ichigo Kurosaki writhing underneath him. Ichigo Kurosaki on his knees. Ichigo Kurosaki kneeling in front of him. Ichigo... Kurosaki... sucking him off. The exact moment this mental image crossed his mind, he was done for. “Fuck”, he hissed as he came all over his hand. Grimmjow’s movements diminished subsequently; he loosened his grasp but didn’t bother to remove his hand from his pulsing member yet. His breath was ragged, a thin layer of sweat covering his well-toned, muscular body. “I see you enjoy yourself in spite of the detention for your misconduct.” Ulquiorra was standing in the doorway with his usual blank expression, eyeing Grimmjow inscrutably. “What do you think you’re doing?”, he then asked with the same undefinable tone that was so characteristic for him. Grimmjow cracked an eye open to throw the intruder a somewhat irritated glare. “Jacking off”, he replied unfazed, closing his recently opened eye again and stretching out on the pallett, evidently holding that this was enough of an explanation. Hell, it was completely obvious anyway. Apparently Ulquiorra expended some time to process that answer for he didn’t respond immediately. “Is that so?”, he eventually asked, although it sounded more like a conclusion than a question. “That is very interesting”, he stated, sounding absolutely uninterested. Grimmjow let out an exasperated growl and aversely loosened his hold on his length. “And it’s none of yer business!”, he threw back half-heartedly, nonetheless pointing out that he definitely didn’t feel like having a conversation. Not that he ever really did feel like having a conversation. Ulquiorra kept a straight face. “I’ll return in an hour as I see you seem to be busy right now. I guess you should have finished ‘jacking off’ by then, as you so nonchalantly put it.”, he replied calmly, already turning around to leave Grimmjow’s room. The sexta grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “bitch” when he rolled over to his side to get some sleep before he’d finally get himself what he really wanted: Ichigo Kurosaki. And there was no way in hell he’d let anyone interfere this time. He couldn’t help the devious grin spreading across his face as he drifted to sleep A/N: O!M!G! I did it! Or better: Grimmjow did it! *kyaaaaaaaa* *runs away, squealing hysterically* I hope you're not disappointed. The fangirl in me sure as hell isn't! At least now Grimmjow knows, what he really wants. So they can finally get down to business. XD~ I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. *winks* ~nihihihihi~ Oh, and Merry Christmas, everyone!^^ Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)