Tutor

It's been so long since I've written! So I thought I'd let you know I was still alive by adding another chapter to my drabbles, (somewhat) proving I can write Bleach, too. I need more requests for this collection, please? Even if you've already got one, you're allowed to request another! Review or PM me for a drabble/oneshot, or just with a list of words to make into drabbles!!!

Pairing: GrimmUlqui if you squint a little.

Rating: T (For Grimmjow's mouth.)

Requester: …Myself?

Note: This is alternate universe. Grimmjow is the adopted son of Aizen and Gin. Also Yaoi. Don't like, Stop reading now.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the named characters, Tite Kubo does. The rich bastard…

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"Grimmjow, you're failing SPANISH?" Aizen asked his adoptive son.

"Yeah, so?" Grimmjow lounged on his bed, momentarily roused from his nap.

"Grimm, you live in LAS NOCHES, in HUECO MUNDO. Doesn't that seem a bit strange?"

The blue-haired sixteen-year-old opened his eyes lazily. "Dad, I really don't care. I know where we live. I can say 'hello' and 'where is the bathroom.' I really don't need anything else, do I?"

Aizen sighed. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to get you a tutor."

This time Grimmjow's eyes shot open. "Dad, are you SERIOUS?! I'm sixteen!! There is no way I'm gonna be taught Spanish by some stick-up-the-ass bitchy tutor!"

"Watch your language!" Aizen scolded. "You will get a tutor, and you will pass Spanish. Or else."

"Or else what? You'll spank me?"

"Or else you'll have to quit mixed martial arts."

Grimmjow gasped. "No! Dad… Father… Please! I'll pass Spanish! I'll ace it!!!" He begged.

"Good boy. Now, I'll call up the tutor tonight to set up the schedule. Love ya, kiddo."

"You too, Dad." Grimmjow fell back on his bed as the brunette shut the door.

He wondered idly about who his tutor would be, before lapsing back into his cat-nap.

= 0-0 =

Grimmjow walked into his room, back from MMA, and gasped at what he saw.

A guy was seated at the head of his king-sized bed. He looked a little younger than Grimmjow himself.

The teen's green eyes were down turned, focused on the task of pulling a book out of his bag. Dark blue-green eyeliner drew thin lines down each of his pale-skinned cheeks, and his upper lip was painted black.

He sat cross-legged, and set the book in front of him.

Grimmjow spoke as he continued to study the stranger. "Who're you?"

The green-eyed teen shook his shaggy ebony hair out of his eyes, then emerald green met cerulean blue. He stated emotionlessly, "My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer, your Spanish tutor, Grimmjow."

The blue-haired teen smirked.

"Hola."