YAYYYY!

Aug. 20th, 2010 03:24 am
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[personal profile] blood_crow
Title: Smoke and Mirrors [Part Ten] 
Pairing: Akon x Grimmjow
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Swearing, violence, gayness, rimming
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
A/N: Rimming and sex marathons, I don't even like that stuff and I wrote it! Well, it's always been my belief that as a writer, you don't dictate what your characters do based on your own feelings/preferences. So I gave Akon free reign to do whatever the fuck he wanted ;) I'm thinking that going months without writing these two worked to my advantage, because the bastards went batshit crazy... Apparently Grimmjow had been without Akon for too long. D'awww! XD

I spent the last few hours of editing this chapter with this beautiful song on constant repeat. It's kind of become my little love theme for Grimmjow and Akon, so go listen!!
 
← Part Nine

It's safe to assume that Grimmjow has regained the use of sonído, if the speed at which we're flying over the rooftops of Seireitei is anything to go by. I can feel his reiatsu throbbing with unrestrained power and heat, flexing around me tightly. When the busy sounds of the city gradually fade away, replaced by nothing more than the whipping wind around us, I really start to wonder where the ex-Espada is taking me.

The chill night air from outside suddenly ceases, dimming to a contained warmth indicative of the indoors. I'm shoved against what I assume to be a wall, and Grimmjow pins me there with his large body. His arms are curled around my waist, gripping the white fabric of my lab coat as he yanks on it. He growls throatily and I feel the cool press of his nose against the crook of my neck (underneath the sack that is still around my head), where he inhales loudly before exhaling in a heavy rush over my skin. I shudder and buck my hips to his, taking the initiative to reach up and yank the bag off my head. The room we're in would be pitch black, if it wasn't for the open window that admits a steady stream of moonlight. I survey our surroundings quickly, from the one window, to the walls, to the wooden floor. The room is so barren (minus a lonely futon shoved in the far corner, which is laughably convenient), that I have to wonder if he's taken me to an abandoned building.

The Sexta's hands grope my thighs shamelessly, and I toss the sack away as I lean my head back, my lips parting when his teeth scrape my jugular. He grinds between my legs with wild fervor, groaning deeply and licking a broad swipe from the hollow between my collarbone to my Adam's apple. Chuckling hoarsely, I reach between our bodies blindly to undo the ties of his hakama.

"Looks like someone's in heat."

"Fuck you," the Arrancar snarls, snapping his teeth at my throat like he wants to rip it out. I just smirk with wry amusement, and leave his obi undone as I reach out to fondle his hollow hole.

"That certainly seems to be your intention right now."

Grimmjow groans hotly against my skin, his breath becoming short, muggy puffs of air. Hips jerking, the blue-haired Sexta bucks against me harshly, grinding our erections together between the fabric of our hakamas. The insistent push of his hips and the rough slide of material on my cock makes me groan, and I sweep my hand around the hole in his abdomen, palming it audaciously. I start fingering the edges when Grimmjow's head jerks up from beneath my chin, his skull knocking against my jaw. I curse halfheartedly and tip my head back, letting it thump against the wall. The ex-Espada makes a raspy sound that's somewhere between a moan and a snarl, as he swings his arms out to grab both of my wrists. He slams my arms against the wall, and holds me open like that as he rocks his hips with enough force that I'm pretty much just along for the ride. I groan raggedly as I arch off the wall, and he slowly starts to lift his head so his face isn't hidden by a tangled mess of blue hair. It's the first time I've actually looked at him since last night, and I immediately notice his throat, looking almost provocative now that the reiatsu limiter is gone. If his pupils weren't blown so impossibly wide, and if he wasn't staring at me with such fervent intent that it was downright carnal and possessed, I might have had the mind to miss that red collar.

Smirking, Grimmjow suddenly knocks his forehead against mine. I feel the puncture instantly, and like a needle sticks in a patient's flesh, I feel my horns stick into his. If the Arrancar notices he doesn't let on, sliding his rough hands over mine to thread our calloused fingers together. A rumble sounds in his chest, so deep and throaty that I'd almost call it a purr; and then he's snorts a breath of air against my mouth. I groan faintly, my eyes heavy with a hammering arousal as I watch him pull away. Sure enough there are three trails of blood leaking from tiny pinpricks on his forehead. The blue-haired Arrancar grins at me manically, his scowling brows framing a set of sinister eyes. His tongue darts out to taste a drop of blood that collects on his upper lip.

That's enough for me, and I growl dangerously low as I jerk my arms free. I press my hands against the wall and push forward, using the momentum to carry him with me, my legs around his waist. The Sexta's eyes widen and I pull my legs back, then kick him in the chest with enough force to send him flying back. He crashes into the opposite wall, splinters the wood, and as I stalk towards him I take the time to glance out the window. Second floor, with a  veranda, and surrounded by a street of dimly lit buildings. This is probably a district of Rukongai. I wouldn't put it past Grimmjow to wander around outside of Seireitei given half the chance. Smirking, I gather my lab coat around my chest and whip it over my head. The Sexta's raspy snarl from the other side of the room draws my attention back to him. I glance in his direction, toss a blur of white fabric to the side, then grin insipidly and jerk my robes apart.

"Hope you brought some lube."

The tattooed Sexta sneers, managing to glare threateningly and grin sardonically at the same time. "Fuck no. Tonight you're gonna suck it up an' take it raw."

"Who said you're doing the fucking?" I counter, cocking my hairless brow challengingly as I pull my arms free of my uniform. Grimmjow's blue-eyed gaze scans my bare torso, and he licks his teeth as his nostrils flare. He throws his shoulders back and starts wiggling free of his modified shihakushou.

"I said, dumbass. When'd you start goin' deaf?"

"Just the other night, apparently."

The ex-Espada sneers at me again, and throws his jacket away as he stalks towards me. His hakama is hanging low on his hips from when I undid his obi, and with a few calculated steps and quick maneuvers of his hands, he steps out of it completely. Like the night that I found him marking my wall, he isn't wearing any fundoshi. His cock is standing hard and flushed against his muscular abs, a string of precome at the head catching the light of the moon. I smirk at him lazily and reach for him when he reaches for me, catching him by the arm and swinging us around. He doesn't stumble, but I've gained enough momentum to push him where I want him: bent over the open window.

"You fucker," he growls venomously, tearing his arm from my grasp. He tries to push back but I'm already there, and all he succeeds in doing is grinding his bare ass into my awaiting crotch. My mouth turns sharply at the corner as I grab a fistful of hair, leaning over him and yanking his head down so his nape is exposed.

"That's the idea. Don't waste my time with your protests, Grimmjow. The way you sat in my lap the other night tells me that you've taken cock before, and that you've liked it. So quit the act and fucking enjoy my dick rammed up your ass."

Grinning against the shell of his ear, I tighten my fingers in his hair and hold his head down, while grinding my concealed erection into his ass. The man below me is panting, and his eyes are focused on something in the distance as he leans over the windowsill. It's just high enough, and with a flat, broad ledge that can support our combined weight. The ex-Espada licks his lips sloppily and suddenly turns his gaze, staring at me from the corner of his eye as he grins darkly. "You wanna do the fucking 'cause I fucked you too hard last time, huh? You're too sore to take another round, ain'chya? Fuckin' pussy."

I smirk at him and reach down, between our bodies so I can loosen my hakama. "The reason doesn't matter, I'm still getting your ass tonight whether you like it or not." Those words get a scowl from Grimmjow, and he lurches violently underneath me, attempting to buck me off and headbutt me at the same time. I rasp a throaty chuckle and avoid the hard skull aimed for my nose, shoving him against the windowsill with my weight.

When I yank his head back by the hair, he hisses through clenched teeth and shudders.

"I'm stronger than you thought and it's turning you on. Am I right?" I mutter huskily, licking behind his ear. Another quiver rattles the body below me, and the Sexta snarls, sounding as if he'd started to groan and forced into something harsher at the last second. A low, harsh chuckle escapes me, and I concentrate my reiatsu over him, using it to press and weigh him down. He's really starting to pant now, and his hands grip the rim of the windowsill as I rake both hands through his hair and rock against him. Dragging my nails over his scalp, I flatten my tongue against the topmost knob of his spine and lick up, tasting the salty sweat of his nape. This time the blue-haired Arrancar can't hold back a raspy, wanton moan, and I grin with pointed satisfaction when his hips arch.

I'm aggressive with my spiritual pressure as I lean back slowly, and I can feel his snapping back just as forcefully to tangle with mine. I said earlier that I wanted to feel his reiatsu unleashed, and I'm not disappointed with the blistering, violent heat of it. It's almost suffocating as it surrounds me, stifling (and blanketing) like the scorching air of a desert. I smooth my hands over his flanks and groan faintly as I move down, nipping sharply at the skin of his back. I follow the curve of his spine to the dip of his waist with my tongue, and languidly, I watch his head as I move my hands over his hips to spread his backside.

When I run my tongue over the crack of his ass in a single broad swipe, the ex-Espada curses loudly and lurches forward like he's trying to get away.

"What the fuck are you doin'?!" he shouts, holding onto the windowsill as he twists around to glare at me over his shoulder.

"What does it look like?" I mutter, deadpan. "You said 'fuck no' to having lube, and I don't want a snag on my cock from your dry ass." Gaze flicking away from his face, I eye his puckered hole contemplatively while spreading him wider.

"That's fuckin' disgusting," Grimmjow sneers, sounding genuinely sickened. I glance at him again, and smirk at the anger in his icy blue eyes as I reach between his legs. I gather the beading precome at the head of his cock, smearing it over my fingers, then place them over his entrance and rub slowly. The Sexta's hips twitch, his eyes pinching around the corners and his brows furrowing. I tip my head back a little and stare at his ass as I tease the hole with the tip of my finger, breaching the rim only slightly.

"Since when do you object to anything, Grimmjow?" I challenge, quirking my brow. "I would have thought that you'd like a little tongue action back here. I've seen plenty of pussies with their heads between their legs, feet in the air."

The Arrancar stares at me wide-eyed like I might be the dumbest fuck he's ever encountered, his upper lip curled. I laugh at him roughly, my gaze flat as I grin and poke my tongue between my teeth. Grimmjow narrows his eyes at the sliver of wet, pink muscle, before jerking his head away and scowling at the buildings across the street.

"Hurry up, disphit! Any longer and I'll pound a hole through ya with my dick!"

Chuckling, I smooth my hands over his thighs and hips, pausing so I can smack one tightly flexed cheek. Grimmjow hisses nastily and sends me a quick, threatening glare, but I just smirk at him sharply, spreading him again and leaning forward. I lick over his entrance leisurely, tasting the remnants of the come that I spread there. My eyes droop and I tease him with the curved tip of my tongue, feeling his muscles jump and tremble in my hands. He's panting raggedly above me, his voice snagging hoarsely in his throat. The sound of him has my skin throbbing with heat, and my hardened cock aching between my legs insistently, craving my attention. I keep it waiting as I reach around his taut thigh to grab hold of his leaking erection. I work him with slow, confident strokes as I wriggle my tongue inside of him, and he all but collapses against the window as he groans loudly. I smirk faintly as his hips start to move, rocking into the tunnel of my hand and, subsequently, against my mouth. The milky fluid that leaks from his cock makes the slide easier, and I can feel him starting to relax around my tongue. I tease the slick muscle inside of him, and reach up with my free hand to touch above the crack of his ass. I find the end of his spine, where his tailbone is, and scratch over it with firm, blunt fingernails.

Grimmjow's sharp hiss morphs into something of a raspy mewl, his ass arching high. I grin smugly, and give his cock one final tug before pulling away to stand up. I step out of my hakama and fundoshi completely, kicking them away, then nudge his legs farther apart with my foot. Reaching down to grip heated flesh, I give myself a few quick, firm strokes, forcing more precome from my cock so I can slick the shaft. Then, bracing myself with my right hand against the window, I put my other hand through his hollow hole. I curl my fingers around the rim, brushing the skin of his muscular abs, using that grip to pull him back and hold him against me. His ass is nestled tight, now, and I  groan fervently as I position myself at his entrance.

"Remind me to get you drunk next time so you're loose," I mutter, while easing the head of my cock past the first ring of muscle. "I won't have to waste my time prepping you."

"Shut up and fuck it," Grimmjow spits out immediately, his tone a hoarse snarl. I can see his fingers digging into the windowsill as he shoves his hips back, trying to force me in faster. I grin crookedly and buck my hips, forcing myself halfway and pausing for a few heartbeats, before I sheathe myself completely. The Sexta heaves a curse and surges forward, his back undulating with the violent immensity of his breathing. I watch him with calculating eyes as I remain relatively still. He's stretched around my cock, and I can feel his muscles spasm, clutching me in a death grip as they adjust to my intrusion. I smooth a hand over his thigh and breathe through my nose, trying to resist the urge to fuck him unconscious. Just the thought alone makes me growl softly, and I roll my hips, unable to hold back. Quaking with shudders, he hangs his head, and seems to be holding his breath until he can trust that the sounds he'll make are guttural groans instead of pained hisses. I rub my hands over his thighs and grab his hips, pulling him tighter against me to encourage him. I start thrusting in earnest, skin that's slick with sweat smacking against his loudly. Grimmjow growls hoarsely and the muscles of his back move with a life of their own as he writhes, his head falling down before snapping back. He repositions his arms for better leverage, and squares his feet as he starts slamming his hips back to meet mine.

Now that's he working with me, I'm free to use my hands for things other than leading him to my cock. Staring down at the blue-haired Arrancar heatedly, I lean over him and hook my arms underneath his. I grip the windowsill tightly, and my hushed panting accelerates as I propel myself forward. I drive into Grimmjow vehemently, nailing him to the wall, groaning throatily at the feel of his tight ass all but swallowing my cock. With every backstroke he seems to suck me back in, taking me hungrily like he's aching for more. The feeling is mutual, as I can't seem to get enough of slamming into him. I thrust my hips savagely and groan, leaning forward to catch the skin of his nape between my teeth. I worry his sweaty flesh harshly, tasting sweet saline on my tongue, feeling the throb in my dick when he snarls and reaches back to fist my hair. He yanks on the short strands like he wants to uproot them, and consequently tugs my torso closer to his. He bucks under me wildly, with a range of different sounds emanating from his throat: snarled hisses; beastly groans; rasping whines.

I reach around his hip to grab him, squeezing from base to tip. I work him avidly, smearing his come over his throbbing cock and rubbing my thumb in the slit. His body starts to jerk in quick succession and I know he's getting close. I curl my other arm around his waist to hold him against me as the tremors intensify. He seizes and snaps tight, his head snapping back so fast that it collides with my cheekbone. I feel his cock pulse in my hand, and then he's spilling his seed in heavy streams against the wall as he roars his completion the same way he did the other night. His voice is deep, loud, and wild, and I'm dimly aware of the fact that if anyone in this neighborhood heard him, they'd probably think that a hollow had gotten into Soul Society. Technically, a hollow has gotten into Soul Society, but it might not be the kind of hollow that they'd envision.

Still panting, I push him flat against the windowsill with my hand on his back, gripping the wall with the other. I'm relentless and violent as I keep pounding into him, reaching for my own orgasm. A minute or two of merciless fucking, and then I'm slamming into him for the last time as I come. My body thrums violently with my climax, and I hang my head as I pant shallowly, trying to catch my breath. After a long moment in which I'm too weak to move, I manage to pull away sluggishly, letting my spent cock slip from Grimmjow's ass. I tilt sideways to lean my shoulder against the wall, and I watch the ex-Espada with eyes that are barely open. He seems to be having as much difficulty breathing as I am, his back heaving. He places his hands flat against the windowsill and starts to push himself up, and before I can get out of the way he's twisting around, catching the side of my face with his elbow. My head snaps sideways with the blunt force of his blow, and I'm in the process of spitting blood from my mouth when Grimmjow fists a handful of my hair and seals his lips to mine in a bruising kiss.

As his tongue maps the inside of my mouth, I don't know whether he's forgotten or simply doesn't care that just a while ago, I had my own tongue shoved up his ass.

***

Eventually, we manage to wear each other out. But not before we maneuvered ourselves over to the futon, where his foot tangled with my ankle to set me off balance. I fell back and knocked my head on the wall, and he barked a harsh, mocking laugh until I kicked his legs out from under him. I spent a good twenty minutes trying to wrestle him into submission, and by the time I got him to calm down we were both almost too worn out to continue. But with his naked body sprawled on the futon (eyes closed, panting, and his legs hanging open enticingly), I felt myself getting painfully hard. I settled my weight between his legs, smirking lazily when he cracked an eye open to scowl at me. The muscular thighs that I'd been admiring for a while cradled my hips, and the raw power I felt in those legs was enough to make me ache with need. He didn't resist when I held his calf and bent his leg towards his chest, turning my head to lick, suck, and bite at the flesh of his inner knee as I entered him for the second time.

It wasn't until the third round, when he had me pinned against wall, that I noticed something interesting (besides the fact that he had a surprising amount of stamina when it came to my cock and his ass). The ex-Esapda sat in my lap with his legs spread wide, rocking his hips up and down, his hands splayed on either side of my head. He held his arms like he was constructing some sort of living cage, encasing me with the would-be enclosure of his body. He didn't have to, because he had my attention with or without the oppressive effort. What really caught my eye, however, was his intense stare the entire time we fucked. His eyes glowed with arrogant satisfaction, his brows furrowed menacingly, and his mouth cracked a grin every time he wrung a groan out of me.

I made a mental note to ask Grimmjow (later, when I wasn't so out-of-my-fucking-mind with pleasure), how he figured out that Kurotsuchi-taichou had put the surveillance bacteria inside of him as well.

My third orgasm came and went, and I when I didn't even bother with a quick smoke I knew that I'd really been spent. But the blue-haired Sexta be damned, I was half-asleep when I realized that he'd climbed on top of me again. I woke up to a dull, hazy awareness, only to find Grimmjow sprawled between my legs, his arms around my waist. His fingers dug into my back, snagging like the hooks of a cat's claws. He was sucking me down, and I arched automatically into the wet heat of his mouth -- until I realized that his rough tongue was a little too much on such a sensitive area, especially after what I'd already been through. I had to grit my teeth against the sensation, and I ran my fingers through his hair to pull him off, only to have him go dangerously still and growl like an animal whose food bowl was being confiscated. I arched my brow (muzzily), and contemplated the fact that my cock was actually being held hostage. It might have been flattering for some, but because my hostage taker was a former Espada with a sandpaper tongue and violent disposition, it was more threatening than it was arousing. It couldn't think of many positives when it came to having my dick trapped inside the deadly mouth of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, besides the simple fact that the wet, snug warmth of it was admittedly "cozy" around my cock -- when it was still, that is.

Exhaling sleepily, I held the silken strands of his blue hair between my fingers, and calmly said: "Your tongue, it's like sandpaper. You'll sand my skin off."

He simply stared at me beneath furrowed brows. For a moment he was motionless, and then he leaned over me more and bobbed his head. He was surprisingly lazy about it at first, and the pool of saliva that collected in his mouth made the slide of his tongue slick, effectively debunking my previous thoughts of it being too uncomfortable. I managed to relax steadily, and eventually I was knocked flat one back with ecstasy as I cupped the back of his neck, simply holding onto him as he did whatever he wanted. The Arrancar sucked hungrily, and the vibrations of his groans around my cock had me in a fit of shudders until I peaked. Grimmjow sucked my come from me and pulled off with a "pop," tilting his head back as he swallowed. He wiped a trail of glistening white from his chin with the back of his hand, then leaned down to make sure he had licked me clean.

I wasn't surprised by his greedy display. Grimmjow was the type that wanted everything for himself, and I couldn't expect any gratious "snowballing" (or so Hisagi had told me it was called in the Living World). I also wasn't surprised by the narrow-eyed scowl I received when I laughed at him huskily, and said with tired (but frank) amusement that he hadn't missed a single drop. Once that was over with, he finally settled at the opposite end of the futon and curled into a ball. I watched the rise and fall of his back regulate to something resembling sleep, and once he was out for good I was able to doze off for a little bit.

Now I'm sitting on the futon with my back against the wall, and I've put on my fundoshi and hakama. My torso is still bare, as are my feet, and I got up a while ago to retrieve my lab coat from the floor. I pull my pack of cigarettes and the silver lighter from the pocket, sticking one of the white cylinders between my lips before I light the end. I give the cigarette a few quick sucks to get the paper burning, and then I take a long drag. 

As I give the room a closer inspection than I did earlier, I realize that this building may not be as abandoned as I initially thought. Someone might actually be living here, and it brings a wry smirk to my mouth. I have no idea if Grimmjow is familiar with this building, or if he brought us here randomly. Either way, there's nothing to do about it now. We've already "christened" the place, so to speak, and the blue-haired Arrancar is currently out cold. Whether or not someone owns this room, I'm content to sit here for a while and enjoy my post coital smoke.

Outside, it looks like the night sky is starting to wane. There's colorful light bleeding on the horizon. The air is still crisp with lingering twilight, and at the edge of my vision I notice Grimmjow draw in on himself, tightening his fetal position. I flick some cigarette ash onto the wooden floor as I study his naked form, eyeing the scarred, prickling flesh of his back. After a moment's consideration, I secure my smoke between my teeth and move closer. Inching my way across the futon (carefully, so I don't rouse him), I steady myself behind him and reach out, touching my fingertips to his bicep lightly. I pull a little, trying to get him to turn onto his back, but he's damn near impossible to move, and he only winds himself tighter. With a dry smirk, I inhale smoke and exhale leisurely, blowing a silver plume into the air above him. A few seconds go by in silence, until Grimmjow gives a twitch and snorts in sleep, sounding as if he's trying to clear his nose of a sudden obstruction.

I chuckle under my breath, and stick my arms through my lab coat. I roll the white material into a bunched loop around my wrists, then stretch my arms and maneuver them over Grimmjow's head. Gradually, I start to ease the article of clothing over his hair, and once I've gotten it around his neck I manage to slip my hand underneath him. I lift him slowly, and cautiously, so I can pull the lab coat down his shoulder. I don't bother trying to pry his arms apart so I can put them through the sleeves, as tightly coiled as he is. I settle for pulling the white fabric down his lean frame, pausing whenever he shifts around and grunts in his sleep.

When I finally have the majority of his naked body covered (my coat bunches around the hip resting against the futon, but I succeed in covering him to his knee on the other side), I sit against the wall and continue my smoking. Tipping my head back I close my eyes, licking around the rim of my cigarette as I pull nicotine into my lungs. On an idle whim I reach up to touch one of my horns, and I notice that a crust has formed on its normally smooth surface.

Dried blood from earlier, I realize.

When Grimmjow had knocked our foreheads together and pierced his skin.

***

It isn't until dawn that they finally show up. I'm on my third or fourth cigarette, and Grimmjow's back is tucked against my leg. He gradually shifted closer to me in his sleep -- instinctively searching for more heat, I'm sure -- and in the process my lab coat became even more twisted around his body. I'm faintly amused, but unconcerned of the fact that his ass is thoroughly exposed when they knock on the door. I don't say anything and they wait for no longer than a heartbeat before sliding the shoji open. I glance in their direction and see Kira Izuru standing in the doorway, with Hisagi behind him. The latter is turned away as he converses quietly with a young woman. She looks into the room and cries out in shock, before clasping her hands over her mouth. Her eyes are wide as she stares, and then she screws them shut as if realizing what she's doing, before scurrying behind the ninth division captain.

"Did you know that this is someone's property?" the blond questions, his tone quiet and calm. I glance at Kira lazily, and smirk as I tap my cigarette with my finger.

"I do now."

The pale shinigami frowns at me slightly, his brows knit together in their usual scowl. He steals a quick glance of the blue-haired Espada who is still napping by my side, and the way he eyes Grimmjow's exposed skin doesn't go unnoticed by me. I grin slowly, a little sharp around the edges, before reaching down to give that ass an admiring pat. Kira looks away quickly, his eyes narrowing on my face as a tinge of color stains his cheeks.

"I didn't think that I'd have to tell you not to do shit like this," Hisagi suddenly says, leaning into the room. His bare arms are crossed over his chest, and his sloe-eyed gaze surveys the room quickly. Assessing the damage Grimmjow and I have done, I assume.

"What can I say? What's done is done," I mutter indifferently, flicking ash onto the floor and sucking down the contents of my cigarette. The scarred captain looks at me, and frowns faintly as he straightens back up.

"You know, Akon, when people hear things crashing into walls and all kinds of shouting, they're naturally scared shitless thinking of what it could possibly be."

Tilting my head slightly, I try to see the girl standing behind Hisagi. "Is that what brought you here, or did you track our reiatsu?"

"Neither," Kira answers, his hand resting idly on the zanpakutou at his hip. "All we had to do was follow the tracking device inside Jaegerjaquez."

That instantly rouses the man lying next to me, but I have a feeling that he's been awake for most of the exchange anyway. He rolls backwards, half leaning over my leg, and glares over his shoulder beneath a messy nest of blue hair.

"Fuckers!" he growls at them loudly, his tone harsh but at the same time muted by the drowsiness of his voice. Sitting up, he bares his teeth at the two captains. "What fucking 'tracking device'?"

"Did you really think that we'd let you wander around freely without us being able to track your movements?" Kira counters coolly.

"THAT ISN'T 'FREELY' THEN, IS IT?!" Grimmjow roars, suddenly wide awake. His eyes spark with fiery anger, and the three of us stare at him with varying degrees of blandness. I notice that both Kira and Hisagi spy the three wounds on Grimmjow's forehead, but neither of them say anything about it.

After a moment of silently observing the Sexta's rage, I narrow my eyes at the blond shinigami. "If that's true, what took you so long to show up?"

The man stares at me, his golden hair and icy eye luminous against the stream of sunlight shining through the window. I wait for his response, but instead of answering me he looks at Grimmjow, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Since when did you become a member of the Twelfth's research team, Jaegerjaquez?" 

Grimmjow blinks, and scowls at Kira frigidly before looking down. When he sees my lab coat draped over his torso haphazardly, he snarls and yanks the (apparently repellent) clothing over his head. "Stupid fuck," he snaps, gathering the white material into an angry ball and tossing it in my face. I laugh at him, and tilt my head away so the coat doesn't catch on my cigarette. The former Espada disregards me (the same as my coat) and comes to a fluid, graceful stand. He squares his shoulders and tips his head back, flashing Hisagi and Kira one of his arrogant grins as he steps over my legs and strides towards them.

"Could you put your uniform on?" the third division captain asks, that barely there flush ghosting over his cheeks for a second time. If his brows weren't already perpetually furrowed, I imagine he'd use them to frown at Grimmjow at this moment. "There are people here who don't need to see you like that."

"Are you fuckin' nuts?" Grimmjow scoffs. "Any of you would be so-fuckin'-lucky." He knocks shoulders with the blond shinigami as he pushes past him, practically on the prowl. A hushed voice mutters nervously behind Hisagi, and the dark-haired captain tilts his head back to listen. It seems to dawn on Grimmjow that Kira was referring to the girl, and his face lights up with menacing intent as he stalks closer. "What's she hidin' for? Ain't she ever seen a hollow? Hey, woman. You've got an alright place. Maybe next time I'll drag you in here for a little fun."

The sound of rushed footfalls thunders along the veranda outside the room, and I know that she's running away in a panic. The blue-haired Arrancar barks a laugh, then stops abruptly when Hisagi's hand shoots out, smacking against the Sexta's bare chest to keep him from leaving the room. That captain's normally neutral eyes have become dangerously hard, and he stares at Grimmjow sternly.

"That's enough. Put your fucking clothes on, Jaegerjaquez. We're taking you back to Seireitei."

Sighing to myself softly, I push my back against the wall as I stand up. I listen to their conversation calmly as I walk around the room, gathering our scattered uniforms.

"Fuck you, asshole," Grimmjow growls viciously, smacking Hisagi's arm away. "I'm not goin' anywhere I don't wanna go."

"If you don't come willingly, we'll have to force you."

As I straighten up slowly from bending over to get the Sexta's hakama, I turn my gaze to observe the other three men. Kira is watching me from the corner of his eye, but I know that he's acutely aware of both Hisagi and Grimmjow, who, at the moment, are staring each other down. I approach them unhurriedly, and once I'm within arm's reach Grimmjow yanks the hakama from my hand. He snarls at Hisagi and spits at the man's feet, before storming outside.

"That'll be the fuckin' day! You'd have to drag my fuckin' corpse before I'd go anywhere 'willingly' with you fuckheads!" I hear him shout. The scarred shinigami steps outside and looks in the direction that Grimmjow went.

"If you refuse to follow simple protocol, especially when you're in the position that you're in, then we will!" he warns, his brows furrowed faintly, alluding to a combination of aggravation and concern. I'm halfway out the door myself when Kira suddenly intercepts me, a soft smile on his face as he takes Grimmjow's tabi and waraji from my hands. I arch a hairless brow, unimpressed by his seemingly gentle expression, but he doesn't seem to notice. I narrow my eyes at his back as he walks over to the blue-haired Arrancar, who is standing at the opposite end of the veranda as he pulls on his hakama. I'm surprised that Grimmjow is still here at all.

"He's impossible," Hisagi comments under his breath as I stand beside him. I shrug into my shitagi and kosode, letting them hang open as I smirk and flick my spent cigarette over the railing.

"Impossibly flexible."

The smaller man makes a face that's there and gone within a span of two seconds. He stares at the former Espada and the captain of the Third, his eyes unblinking and slightly unfocused, looking as if he's thinking of something that's miles away from this moment.

"I can't believe you broke into someone's home. Do you realize how that makes Seireitei look? I would've thought that you'd... I don't know, ground him, somehow. Set a few boundaries. He doesn't have any self-control, and that makes him dangerous. You need to be the responsible one and keep him in check so he doesn't run amok."

I laugh hoarsely, the sound sharp and cutting. Pulling my lab coat over my head, I yank it down quickly and look at the scarred shinigami. "Did you find the tobacco I've been experimenting on? Because I don't know what the fuck you've been smoking, Hisagi, but I've never been the 'responsible one' when it comes to having a good time."

Glancing at me, the dark-haired captain doesn't even humor me with a smile. "You should rethink that attitude. They may have removed the reiatsu limiter, but he's still under tight surveillance right now. Any more wrong moves and Ukitake-san will be forced to quarantine him to keep Seireitei and Rukongai safe. I don't want it to be that way, but he used to be an enemy of Soul Society, Akon. He can't be trusted yet, and he's not making a good impression by disappearing from his division and breaking into a civilian's home."

I shove my hands into my pockets, tilt my head back, and roll my eyes sluggishly. "So a few people got scared when they heard us fucking. He didn't hurt anyone, did he? I'll pay for the damages to her room and we can leave it at that."

Hisagi is quiet for a long moment, and once I've realized that he's waiting for me to look at him, I do. He's staring at me with a strangely thoughtful expression, a little smirk curling the corner of his mouth. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you're trying to sweep this under the rug by taking the fall for him."

I make a dismissive sound, my eyes drooping as I grin. "If I were taking the fall, I'd say that it was my idea to break into this place and fuck on every available surface. This doesn't have to be bigger than it really is. That's all."

"Kira says they're gonna throw me in the Maggot's Nest if I don't shape up."

At the sound of that brusque voice, I redirect my gaze. Grimmjow is fully dressed by now, and his hands are inside the pockets of his hakama as he grins with a lazy self-satisfaction. "From what I've heard, the place don't sound s' bad. It'd be better than bein' stuck out here with you fuckheads." He narrows his eyes at Hisagi pointedly, but his harsh brow softens slightly as he scans the man's three scars and sixty-nine tattoo.

"Well, the two of you would have more in common if that's the path you chose," Kira comments as he joins the three of us. His captain's haori looks heavy on his shoulders, and his arms hang by his side as he looks me over casually.

Leaning back against the railing, the Sexta crosses his arms and squints at Kira. "Huh?"

"Over a century ago, Akon used to be a prisoner with Kurotsuchi-taichou. They were bailed out by Urahara Kisuke to help him establish what is now the Twelfth Division's Research and Development Institute."

"You're shittin' me." Blue eyes swivel, and Grimmjow gives me a skeptical once-over. "You used to be a fuckin' prisoner?"

I stare at Kira for a long, emotionless moment. The man simply smiles softly, and I think about using his mouth for an ashtray the next time I light up. My eyes snap away with irritation, but when I see the blue-haired Arrancar looking at me like a predator with dinner in sight, I find myself smirking faintly. I shrug my shoulders and put a smoke between my lips. "It happens to the best of us."

Grimmjow grins, and pushes himself off the railing so he can stride towards me. I can see the burgeoning heat in his eyes, and his reiatsu is starting to swell, thrumming with rapidly escalating intensity. I arch my hairless brow with dry curiosity, lighting my cigarette like I can't be bothered. Grimmjow growls throatily and his eyes hood.

"Do you think that's a mating call?" I hear murmured to the right of me, followed by soft laughter. I flash Hisagi a sinister smirk and flick ash at his pristine haori.

"Who can say with these two. Anyway, I do think that they've done enough damage for one night. Hisagi-san, why don't you take Jaegerjaquez for a drink? You can tell him a story about the tattoo he's been eyeing."

The darker of the two furrows his brows slightly, giving Kira a dubious look. The blond just nods his head faintly, and Grimmjow jerks around to glare at them both. "I told you dipshits that I'm not goin' anywhere I don't wanna go." Pausing, he glances at Hisagi with cold hostility and does exactly what Kira said: he eyes the shinigami's sixty-nine tattoo.

"I'm escorting Akon back to the Twelfth, so if you'd like to revisit their laboratories, you're welcome to join us."

"Wait," I interject, before the blue-haired Sexta can bite back with a nasty retort. "I must have heard you wrong, because you couldn't have possibly suggested that I need a chaperon."

"Not at all," Kira says, reaching up as if to push his hair aside, only to scratch lightly at the skin hidden underneath. "I have things to discuss with Kurotsuchi-taichou, so you might as well accompany me on your way back."

"Things to discuss," I parrot tonelessly, starting at the blue-eyed captain with dull, unblinking eyes. I suck on my cigarette slowly, and immediately I have a gnawing feeling in my gut, telling me that this is more than just "having things to discuss." Narrowing my eyes faintly, I exhale smoke through my nose and flick the white cylinder at Kira's feet. He glances down at the offending object, a look of distaste twisting his mouth minutely.

"Alright. Let's go."

"Are you shittin' me?"

"No," I mutter, shooting Grimmjow a pointed look that the other two won't see. He jerks his head back aggressively as he narrows his eyes, and the reiatsu that I felt swirling around me makes a hasty retreat. I wouldn't say that it's the retreat of something being scolded; more like the retreat of a wild animal that's fighting the domestication of a human's campfire. My harsh expression softens -- somewhat -- and the Arrancar's upper lip twitches. He snarls spitefully, and gives me his middle finger with all the gusto of aiming a cero at my head. He doesn't say another word as he turns around and disappears from sight. The ninth division captain spares Kira and I a quick glance, then curses and shunpos away, no doubt in pursuit of the former Espada.

Now that Grimmjow and Hisagi are gone, and I'm alone with the pale, flaxen-haired Kira Izuru, my expression dulls. I regard him coolly, and as I prepare myself mentality for whatever it is the blond is after with this little rendezvous, I smirk with dry banality.

"Lead the way, Taichou."

***

"I'm asking you because generally, the members of your division lack empathy, sympathy, or otherwise any ability to have a genuine interest in anything that isn't research for science."

"Careful, if you don't pause for a breath you might suffocate yourself."

Kira gives me a bland look. When we reentered Seireitei, I told him that I'd rather walk the rest of the way; that it was time for my morning smoke break (not that I hadn't already had a dozen by then). I wanted to get to the core of his motives, and as we navigated the streets of the Thirteenth on our way to the Twelfth, I asked him directly. That lead him to asking me directly what it was I was doing with Grimmjow. And now, here we are.

"Jaegerjaquez was relinquished from your division's...'care,' and whatever experiment you and your captain are conducting is a violation of his rights."

I stare at him, and say nothing as I suck on my cigarette with lewd vigor. The blond looks at me as he awaits my response -- starting to flush, faintly... -- but when he realizes that I'm not going to give him one, he frowns.

"He's a part of my division, now. That makes him my subordinate. I'm his captain, and I have a right to know."

"You weren't acting like his captain last night. In fact, if I remember correctly, you told me to 'make sure he didn't get himself into any serious trouble' if I saw him. You renounced your duty as 'his captain' the moment you turned him over to me, Kira. If you really believe that Kurotsuchi-taichou and I are experimenting on Grimmjow, why exactly did you tell me to look after him?"

Narrowing his eyes, the third division captain sets his mouth seriously. "I wouldn't turn anyone over to a member of the Twelfth. I told you to make sure he didn't get into trouble if you saw him; I didn't give you permission to experiment on him. Experiment on yourself, and any other shinigami from your division for all I care. But when those experiments bleed into the rest of the Gotei 13, and when they're done without the subject's knowledge or consent, it becomes a crime."

I could say that Grimmjow does have knowledge of what Kurotsuchi-taichou is doing, and that he has given his consent. But I don't, because if I did it would be a confession, and I have no reason to confirm Kira's suspicions. "What are you trying to say, Kira?" I ask him instead, stepping closer. "From where I'm standing, it sounds like your little show of disapproval is a threat."

"A warning," the blond answers, his lashes lowered faintly; his gaze daring. I cock my brow, and smirk slowly as I chuckle.

"I know that you've had a history when it comes to letting things get to your head, but I think that this time you're in over it. You may be a captain now, Kira, but you're mistaken if you really think you'd be a match for mine."

His lips part slightly, and his brows twist (even tighter than they already are). "As long as Jaegerjaquez is a member of the Third, I won't allow him to be used by your division."

I don't say anything for a moment as I stare at the other man intently. The smirk is still there on my mouth, and it jerks higher as I consider Kira's words. "Is that what this is about?" I mutter, intrigued. "Does all of this hit a little too close to home for you?"

I have to give him credit for not flinching. But even so, he can't seem to stop his jaw from clenching. I think that if I were to look down, I'd see his hands balled into fists at his sides. I don't look down, though, because I'm far more interested in the play of emotions on his cold, wounded face.

"We're all 'using' him in our own ways, aren't we, Kira?" I question. "I am. The Gotei 13 is for taking him hostage and trying to use him to their advantage instead of just killing him." The blond opens his mouth at that, and I know what he wants to say -- That isn't true. He hasn't been killed out of sympathy, not because he's being shaped into a tool -- but I ride over him, stepping even closer as I continue.

"You are."

Kira's mouth hangs open slightly, frozen on the words that he wanted to speak. I lean down slowly, and stare at the wall behind him as my mouth hovers over his ear. "Grimmjow may have been in their army, but in all brutal honesty, what kind of connection is that? It only brings you closer to a memory, not the reality. And no matter how many times he grins at you in your office, it's never going to look like Gin's."

His fist slams into my face, and I stagger back with the enraged power of such a blow. His chest is heaving and his eyes are a shock of wild blue as he stares at me, incensed. I smirk at him harshly; narrow my eyes and roll my cigarette to the other side of my mouth.

"Don't--"

"Don't what?" I snap promptly. "Don't say his name? Don't call you on your pathetic hypocrisy? Stop being so fucking self-righteous, Kira. It's a joke when you're no better than the people you're trying to condemn."

The smaller man doesn't say anything. He's still breathing heavily, and staring at me with those wide eyes, but he doesn't say anything. He swallows once, clenches his fist at his side, then unfurls his fingers slowly. They twitch and creak like rusty gears.

After a long moment in silence, I reach up to rub my knuckles over the bruised flesh of my injured cheek. "So, did you get that out of your system? If you're done with this petty bullshit, Kira, so am I."

He still doesn't say anything. His eyes are at the corners, now, as he looks off into the distance. I heave a lazy exhale, incapable of actually caring. "Do you still plan on seeing Kurotsuchi-taichou?"

In response to that, Kira turns away and starts walking. In the direction of the Research and Development Institute. I watch him go, and smirk faintly as I tap my cigarette a few times before following him. We walk together without speaking for a good ten minutes, his iced gaze on anything but me. Mostly it remains on the pavement at our feet, and I lift my hand casually so I can flick ash at the back of his haori, just to see if he'll notice. After a few seconds he does, reaching up in an absent-minded manner to brush the offending powder from the white material. I chuckle, and he turns his head slightly to look at me over his shoulder.

"I've heard that Kurotsuchi-taichou has blue hair under his...uniform."

Arching my brow slowly, I stay quiet and simply stare. I have a good idea of what he's trying to imply, and in all honesty, I'm a little impressed. What he's thinking right now may not be entirely correct, but it's more on the money than I would have given him credit for.

"And his less than pleasant disposition..." Kira continues, letting his voice trail with composed suggestiveness. I inspect him from the corner of my eye and he does the same, his mouth twitching a little when mine curls at the corner. I laugh, hoarsely, and I'm unsure as to whether or not I should feel uncomfortable with this intuitive, intimate exchange.

"Huh, aren't you observant?" I mock, grinning with jagged amusement. "With such a keen eye, we may have a job for you at the Institute."

Kira's smile is a little dry; worn out, drained of warmth, his eyes just as cold as he looks at me beneath somnolent lashes. I tilt my head back, and close my eyes calmly as I pull nicotine into my lungs. I open my mouth and exhale slowly, blowing smoke rings into the air. "I won't deny that there's a certain resemblance."

"I hear a 'but'."

Again, I don't say anything. I crack my eyes open to slits, and watch the clouds overhead. There is a "but," only it's a but that I can't accurately explain at this stage in the game. I know that the former Espada is different from my captain of over a century; that he occupies a space in my life that is entirely separate from the space that Kurotsuchi-taichou occupies. As of right now, I can't tell what the difference is between their positions, exactly, or how different they really are -- if one is more important than the other, and if so, by how much.

All I know is that Grimmjow is important. How I measure that importance, I'm still trying to figure out. I'm still weighing; still speculating; still computing. I have a feeling that any concrete solution to this "study" of mine is far out of reach, still, and that it will be for a long time. But, that's the exciting part. If all answers were easy, or if they were predictable, then scientists would never be stimulated for long enough to take pleasure in their experiments.
 
"Is... is it too much to think that Kurotsuchi-taichou..."

Kira's voice filters in and out quietly, and I can't tell if he's just murmured to himself, or to both of us. Either way I hear his words, and they have my mouth twitching faintly; fighting a frown, this time, instead of suggesting the beginnings of a smirk. I ignore the unfinished question he's left hanging in the air between us, and open the doors to the Research and Development Institute.

***

The room we find my captain in smells strongly of preserving fluids, and he has his hands buried in the belly of a naked Arrancar. Her skin is drained of color in death, but her hair is violet. Brittle, lacking luster, but a deep shade of purple all the same. I look away, pull a drag from my cigarette, and glance at Kira. The man looks even more pale than usual, like he could be sick at any moment, but after a silent, calming breath, he strides forward with purpose. My eccentric captain doesn't break his inspection of the girl's innards until Kira is standing directly in front of him, on the other side of the table. He ignores the blond for a good two minutes before he glances up slowly. His golden eyes are lazy, and a cruel grin cuts his calico mask with smooth precision.

"Kira Izuru. Which limb should I remove first, as compensation for interrupting my work?"
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