Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Bleach much less any of the characters used in this story. Bleach (C) Kubo Tite

Impassion :: Broken and Crushed

Part I

The copper smell of blood filled his nostrils a split second before he identified the spiritual pressure flowing from just around the corner. He stopped in his tracks as his intuition was proved correct, the Sexta Espada turned the corner and was moving towards him – but something was wrong in his characteristic haughty gait. Quite ready to resume his walk and ignore the inferior Espada, he suddenly found his feet rooted to the floor as his wide eyes located the splatter of blood that stained the Sexta's left shoulder and arm… or what had been left of it at least.

His usual silence of indifference turned into one of shocked stupor. It was beyond discourtesy but somehow, he couldn't just tear his eyes away from the sight.

Grimmjow had lost the whole of his left arm.

He never noticed when the aqua-haired Arrancar had stopped advancing but at the moment, both Espadas were immobile, facing each other in one of the many, many halls of Aizen's palace. Unreadable expressions were on both faces and neither one dared to break the silence.

The sound of blood dripping onto the floor was magnified in the silence and it almost felt like he had cringed at the sudden noise.

A leer found its way on Grimmjow's lips as he spotted his superior staring a little too intently on his damaged limb, his brows furrowing in an attempt to appear unfazed by the obvious mutilation of his arm.

"What the fuck's with that look? Ya ain't hematophobic now, are ya?" Grimmjow jeered, channeling his hatred on Tousen towards the other.

At that, bright jade eyes finally tore their gaze away from the bleeding shoulder, locking gazes instead with a fiery sapphire pair. But not before he saw the unsightly gash against the taller man's abdomen as well as the crimson stain going down the left side of his face.

"You got what you deserved, Sexta," came the curt reply, it didn't take a genius to figure out exactly what had transpired. "You deliberately disobeyed Aizen-sama's orders…"

"Tsch. Like I have time to hear you preach right now, ya little shit," Grimmjow scowled, taking a step forward, moving to pass the smaller Arrancar when the latter called to him.

"And where do you think you're going?" inquired his superior in a cold tone, their backs now facing each other.

"To my fucking room," spat the Sexta as he lifted a foot to move on. Damn it, he was already tired enough as it is, with his bleeding shoulder further dampening his mood, he didn't need the scrawny bastard to give him another fucking sermon right now…

"You're bleeding."

Pantera's wielder scoffed at that, "As if I don't know that already, Captain Obvious. The trail of blood behind me can fucking speak for itself, can't it?"

"You need to go to the infirmary."

Canines were exposed as Grimmjow's mouth paused in speech, his sharp retort dying in his throat as the other's words filled his ears. In spite of himself, Grimmjow turned around, sending more of his blood to stain the walls and floor as he eyed the dark-haired Espada with a disbelieving look.

"The fuck?"

The pale face turned sideways for jade orbs to meet the blue-eyed stare. "I don't believe you have any idea on dressing wounds, Sexta. Head for the infirmary if you have any sense left in you."

Reading the statement as yet another insult to his being, Grimmjow snarled. "I don't need those medics. It'll practically be like asking Szayel to nurse this bleeding shit."

"If you have any respect left for yourself, then you'd know that it's more practical for you to head to the infirmary."

"Just shut the fuck up, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow snapped, turning away and breaking eye-contact. "I don't fucking need you looking down on me."

With that, the Sexta marched off, more droplets of blood settling in his wake.

Meanwhile, black-painted fingernails dug into the palms of pale hands, hidden from view as they were shoved into the pockets of the loose-fitting hakama.

You were always the most difficult one to deal with.

Echoes filled the four walls as the thick door was slammed shut. The sapphire-eyed Espada stomped his way across the room, plunking down on his still unmade bed which was set against the farthest wall. A crimson trail followed his steps, staining the pure white everything that he made contact with.

Grimmjow eyed his left shoulder with much repugnance, gritting his teeth as another drop of red fell onto the white sheets. With a growl, the aqua-haired Espada used his remaining hand to grab his jacket and rip it off of himself, throwing the ruined piece of clothing onto the floor. His eyes were directed at his bleeding shoulder again. Damn it.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!

Damn Shinigami. Damn Tousen. Damn Aizen. Damn that fucking Ulquiorra.

The damage from the shinigami was minimal; it was his dismembered arm that pissed him off. Moreover, coming across the Cuatro Espada in such a state only intensified his anger. Gin must have been manipulating the hallways again. That conniving bastard.

All of a sudden, there was a prompt knocking on his door. Grimmjow gave the door a menacing stare, as though hoping that whoever it was on the other side would get a hint and fuck off. No such luck, however, as the knocking was only repeated. And this time, a call accompanied the knocks.

"Grimmjow-sama, please open the door."

It was a voice that the Espada didn't recognize. And from what spiritual pressure that he could feel, the Arrancar seemed to be neither Fraccion nor Espada. Grumbling, and in no mood for any disruptions, Grimmjow stood up and marched over to his door, opening it forcefully and glaring down with full intensity at the figure outside.

"What the fuck do you want?" the Sexta snapped not even caring that he was shirtless, thus exposing all his wounds.

The Arrancar outside was female with a human skull encasing half of her face, in front of her was a trolley with five levels that reached up to her waist. She donned a long-sleeved dress that ended a few inches above her ankle.

The Espada's frown widened at his assessment.

She was a medic.

"Grimmjow-sama, allow me to dress up your wounds." The medic spoke humbly, eyes trained on the trolley before her.

"That bastard Ulquiorra," Grimmjow cussed, glaring ever harder at the lowly Arrancar. "I don't need your shit, understand? So just fuck off. I don't give a damn whatever that shitty Cuatro told you to do. Fuck. Off."

And the door was promptly slammed shut in the medic's face.

Grimmjow had just turned around when the door was opened. With his fury reaching its boiling point, the aqua-haired Espada unsheathed Pantera and meant to just slice the little bitch in half only for the blade to be stopped by two slender fingers.

Sapphire eyes widened by a fraction as the black-tipped fingers held against the force of his attack. Cool green eyes stared up at him with something akin to an admonishing look as the pale hand lowered the blade away from his face.

"Has all logic really escaped you, Sexta?" the Cuatro Espada asked as the inferior Espada jammed Pantera back into the sheath strapped against his waist.

"Fuck you," Grimmjow spat, his right hand still gripping the handle of his sword. "Stop acting like a wiseass, Ulquiorra! And don't you fucking stick your nose in my business! Now get out of my sight! And take that stupid medic with you!"

Ulquiorra only closed his eyes in the duration of the Sexta's rant, opening them with a sigh once the other was done. He locked gazes with the muscular Espada before slowly raising his right arm and setting the pale hand against the still-bleeding shoulder; fingertips resting in a feather light manner upon the raw flesh.

If Grimmjow had found the Cuatro's action painful, his face didn't show a trace of it; a seething look was still his mien.

Taking a step forward, rendering the distance between them a mere foot, Ulquiorra delicately pressed a finger onto the exposed flesh. At the sudden pressure, more blood oozed from Grimmjow's stump of a shoulder, trailing down the porcelain hand, bringing crimson tracks across the pale expanse of flesh.

A quick widening of the eyes and a minute gritting of teeth was all that was expressed by the Sexta Espada as he breathed hard and finally broke his silence.

"What. The Hell. Are. You. Fucking. Doing?" the sapphire-eyed Espada gritted out.

"Emphasizing my point of your need for medication." Ulquiorra replied in monotone, mildly pressing his palm against the other's open wound.

The soft squish sound of the increased contact only made Grimmjow furrow his brows even further.

"This is fucking stupid." The Sexta stated, grabbing the pale wrist and forcefully removing his superior's hand from himself.

"Says he who unreasonably allows himself to bleed," countered Ulquiorra, his tone implying no tolerance for nonsense.

Grimmjow was not one to admit defeat. Ever. But although he hated to admit it, the Cuatro had a point. A very solid one at that. And so, with a great show of reluctance, Grimmjow released his grip on his superior's wrist and stepped aside for the medic to come in.

Plunking down on the edge of his bed, Grimmjow wore his widest scowl as Ulquiorra stepped into his room, closely followed by the medic who had her head bowed.

As the lowly Arrancar started to work on the injured Espada's wounds, the dark-haired Cuatro stood like a shadow against a far wall – his bloodstained hand untouched by his side.

Long minutes passed in almost lethal silence until finally, the medic secured the last of the bandages, fixed up her trolley and bowed before leaving the room. The air seemed to grow even thicker once the concrete door slid shut once again, isolating two of Aizen's prized Espada.

"Well? sapphire eyes narrowed as they gazed pointedly at the pale figure against the whitewashed wall. "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

Green eyes shining in the darkness flickered to meet the Sexta's gaze. "I was just seeing to it that the medic did her job properly."

"Well, she already fucking left." Grimmjow pointed out harshly.

Choosing not to honor the other's statement with a reply, Ulquiorra left the wall and moved to stand right in front of the inferior Espada.

"You should really stop acting so recklessly, Sexta." With that said, the Cuatro turned around and was making his way to the door when Pantera's wielder suddenly remarked…

"Oi! Your hand…"

Stopping briefly in his tracks, Ulquiorra brought his right hand into his line of vision, finding Grimmjow's blood still lingering on his palm. Sensing something being thrown at him, the dark-haired Arrancar stepped to the left and caught the object with his right hand; a brow rose once he realized that he was now holding the Sexta's ripped up jacket.

"At least wipe off the shit." Grimmjow's voice came, his tone suggesting much displeasure at even saying that statement.

Taking a sidelong glance, jade eyes found the aqua-haired Espada glaring at the pillows on his bed. A corner of the black and white lips turned up in the slightest as Ulquiorra did wipe off the blood on his hand onto the ruined jacket.

With his hand spotless once more, Ulquiorra resumed his exit, dropping the soiled jacket into a chute by the door.

Grimmjow finally raised his head as he heard the door to his room sliding close once again, catching a glimpse of the shadow of a smile playing on the Cuatro's lips.

You know I hate it when I can't understand what you're thinking.

"Yes, Aizen-sama," came the usual humble answer as the Cuatro kept his head bowed and stayed in a kneeling position with his left knee and right foot supporting his weight.

"Very well, you may go ahead and carry out your task, Ulquiorra." The ex-Shinigami Captain ordered, sitting regally in his throne. His chocolate eyes shining as a mirthless smile played on his lips.

"Of course." Finally getting permission to leave, the pale-skinned Espada lost no time in sonido-ing out of the room.

The Cuatro Espada soon reappeared in a long and dark hallway, at the end of which was tall door from where a white rectangle of light passed through. He made his way towards the room in a leisurely pace, feeling the bursts of spiritual pressure that coming from the far-off chamber. The Espada finally reached the high doorframe and stood there for a moment, jade eyes watching as his fellow Espada wreaked havoc in the room, an unsheathed blade slicing across everything it came into contact with - the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Roars of fury echoed in the room as the Sexta seemed to run amok, slashing even thin air as he ricocheted off the walls, the unrolled left sleeve of his jacket fluttering uselessly.

Concluding that he had wasted enough time, Ulquiorra stepped into the room, making his presence known to the other who had stopped in his rampage and neatly dropped onto the floor in front of his superior.

"The hell are you doing here now, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow snarled, breathing hard as he glowered down at the smaller Arrancar.

Impassively eyeing the layers of sweat that trailed down the Sexta's well-exposed body, Ulquiorra noted how much warmer it seemed to become with the blue-eyed Espada in close proximity.

"Aizen-sama has given me orders…" the ebony-haired Espada stated softly.

"So?" the impatience in the Sexta's voice was clear as day.

"… It is to inform you, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez," Ulquiorra met the hard gaze coming down at him evenly, "That you have been demoted from the Espada."

The look on Grimmjow's face hardens as he grits his teeth upon hearing the news. "What the fuck did you say?"

"A new Sexta Espada has been appointed," the jade-eyed Espada added, still appearing unfazed by the anger burning in the sapphire eyes glowering at him. "He would be occupying your room starting tomorrow; Aizen-sama had suggested that you vacate your quarters as soon as possible."

The tanned Espada was now shaking with rage, his grip on Pantera was making his knuckles turn white and with a loud cry of great ire, Grimmjow turned and threw his sword across the room – embedding the weapon into the far wall. The force of his throw sent a great pressure against the pasty walls, making them crack with debris helplessly flying away. As if the room needed any more demolition.

With the now ex-Espada's back turned to him, Ulquiorra was faced with the gothic six tattooed on the right side of Grimmjow's hollow hole.

"Your tattoo…" the Cuatro murmurs, causing the taller Arrancar to face him once more.

"What?" Grimmjow asks irately.

"Your tattoo would have to be removed." Murcielago's wielder clarified as twin blue orbs narrowed at him. "Since you are no longer part of the Espada, it will be pointless for you to carry the mark of your lost ranking…"

"Fuck you." The seething Arrancar spits out, his remaining hand clenching.

In the blink of an eye, Ulquiorra was gone, reappearing behind the demoted Espada and grabbing the latter by the wrist. A split second later, the two turn up along the left side wall; the aqua-haired Arrancar stood face first against the concrete with the Cuatro pressing onto his back, with his only arm sandwiched between them.

Huffing, Pantera's wielder turns his head to the side, the jawbones cutting uncomfortably into his right cheek as he snaps at the oppressive Espada, "Fuck you, Ulquiorra."

Half-lidded eyes gazed over the taller Arrancar's shoulder, raising his lips to the other's ear, intoning, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way…"

"Get off–!" Grimmjow struggling to push off the smaller Arrancar to no avail.

A sigh passed between thin lips as the dark-haired Espada used his left hand to keep Grimmjow's arm in place. "You never did like to comply…"

Setting his right hand against the demoted Sexta's waist, Ulquiorra nestled his face in the crook of the other's neck, breathing in deeply as he began to concentrate. Grimmjow froze as he felt the other's breath so close to him with slender pallid fingers dancing on the small of his back – their tips slowly heating up until they reached a burning point. At the same time that those fingers began working on 'removing' the fallen Espada's number, Grimmjow's eyes shot open as a small set of teeth bit down on his left shoulder. Blue irises dilated as black and white lips closed in on his skin, seemingly kissing and sucking, effectively distracting the Arrancar from his scorched skin. From the corner of his line of sight, Grimmjow watched with hitched breathing as the dual-hued lips worked its way across his shoulder, displacing his jacket along the way so that the clothing now barely hung from the edge of his severed limb. And whether it was intentional or not, the sapphire-eyed Arrancar couldn't help the immense heat pooling in his nether regions as his superior's groin happened to be directly behind his rear end. The searing pain of the burnt off tattoo went unnoticed as Ulquiorra's lips went higher up the tanned neck, a wet tongue marking his path as the lithe body pressed harder against the other's. With the tattoo gone, the pale hand snaked around the Arrancar's waist, fingering the edges of the hollow hole in his abdomen and then lightly caressing the raw muscle inside the hole, eliciting a gasp from the aqua-haired Arrancar.

"You," Ulquiorra whispered directly into the inferior Arrancar's ear as he detracted his hands and slowly pushed himself away, "are now a Privaron Espada." With his task finished, the Cuatro Espada stepped back, relinquishing his hold on Grimmjow's arm and replacing both his hands into the pockets of his hakama. Seeing no immediate reaction from the other, the dark-haired Espada turned about and started walking away. However, he had barely taken three steps when a voice calling out to him made him halt.

"You bastard," Grimmjow's voice is rough and his breathing is ragged. His steps are heavy as he reaches out and roughly pulls back the Cuatro against his front, holding him by his right arm. Ulquiorra doesn't seem fazed in the least and his gaze is kept straight forward. Grimmjow's intense warmth envelops the pale Espada as the aqua-haired Arrancar doubles his grip on the jacket, ruffling up stands of ebony hair as he breathes into his superior's right ear. "Just where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"My business here is done," came the expected stoic reply.

"Like hell your fucking business is done." Grimmjow hissed, his fingers almost tore apart the fabric of Ulquiorra's jacket as his grip intensified.

The porcelain face turned ever so slightly to face the other man, jade orbs gazing with an uncharacteristic gleam at the Privaron holding him back. Really now… At the moment, not even an inch of space separated Grimmjow's body from his back and yes, he definitely knew what 'business' the demoted Sexta was talking about… It wasn't a split-second decision of his to remove the other's tattoo after all… What's surprising is that Grimmjow actually held him back.

"Do you realize what you're asking of me, Jeagerjaquez?" the dark-haired Espada asked softly, even almost tauntingly, as he remained motionless.

Sapphire eyes harden and the reply came out in a sort of growl. "And I fucking hate you for it."

I don't even want to understand what this is.

The tanned muscular body was laid down against the floor, sweaty, panting and stripped of clothing – exposing all for twin jade eyes to see. Ulquiorra was in no better state – having discarded his own clothes before disrobing the sapphire-eyed Arrancar. The dark-haired Espada wore the ghost of a smile as he hovered over Grimmjow, hands on either side of the latter's head with his legs bordering the taller Arrancar's hips. The bold, gothic number four looming as it was tattooed on the pale man's left chest.

Sapphire eyes narrowed and the frown on Grimmjow's lips tightened as the intense warmth of his own body along with Ulquiorra's spiritual pressure engulfed him. The lights from the high ceiling fell over his superior's form, making the pale, pale skin radiate… the soft yet piercing gaze of green eyes bright under the shadow of layered ebony hair only made Grimmjow hold in his breath.

Silence enveloped them, no other spiritual pressure could be felt within a mile, it was just the two of them in that ruined sparring chamber. Naked. On top of each other. Staring.

"Are you just gonna stare?" Grimmjow finally snapped, starting to feel rather uncomfortable as Ulquiorra's gaze was kept on his face. Damn it, he didn't want to sound like he badly needed to get laid but fuck this shit if that self-righteous bastard was just going be a god damned tease.

Thick eyelashes lidded the jade eyes as Ulquiorra's gaze softens and he lowers his lips on the demoted Espada's neck, meeting the tanned skin with a delicate kiss.

The muscular body underneath stiffened. Gentleness was the last thing he had expected. Too-blue eyes met with half-lidded orbs of green for a split second before Ulquiorra closes his eyes completely and starts kissing down Grimmjow's neck.

Pale hands slowly descend on the velvety skin - feeling, memorizing, and claiming. The black-tipped fingers purposely glided along the contour of the severed left arm of the man underneath, feeling the taut muscles as he moved towards the man's chest.

The feel of surprisingly tender hands on him rendered the aqua-haired man speechless, the heat from the pale lithe body that was now a bare inch on top of him only made the Privaron feel ever hotter. Black and white lips were on his collar bone, a velvety tongue darting out occasionally, sending delightful shivers down his spine as it unabashedly lapped up the sweat that covered him. All of a sudden, the Espada's ministrations stopped and Ulquiorra raises his head, half-lidded eyes catching an almost alarmed look on sapphire pools.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Ulquiorra wasn't going to get up was he?

"You haven't removed this scar…" the dark-haired Espada's voice came out soft, his right hand fingering the burned skin in the middle of the other's abdomen for emphasis.

"Wha-?" Grimmjow's mind was pretty addled at the sudden question, his brain empty of much thought save for those concerning the seductive Arrancar over him.

"This scar Grimmjow… it emits that substitute reaper's spirit force…" Ulquiorra repeated daintily, lifting his body a little ways higher over the other's, tracing the scar with black-tipped fingers. "Why is it still here? You could have easily healed it over the past days… Why is it still here?"

There was the slightest raise in the Cuatro's voice that cut clear through Grimmjow' muddled mind. A serious look shines in sapphire eyes as he finds his voice to speak, "My battle with that punk ain't finished yet."

Ulquiorra 'hn'-ed and his jade eyes narrowed, casting shadows over the gleam of bright green pools. "You're being illogical again, Jeagerjaquez." He speaks delicately, pressing the palm of his hand on the edge of the slanted scar. "I will remove it."

"Don't you fucking mess with-!" a finger over his lips stops Grimmjow from finishing his cry.

"Fine. I won't do it now. Later, then…" Ulquiorra states lightly, detracting his finger from the supple tanned lips and bringing his face close to trail kisses down the Privaron's left jaw. "Once we've finished…"

Grimmjow had opened his mouth to retort but found his throat drying up as he felt added weight pressing on his groin. A warm hand soon followed in that direction and - oh shit! Bright blue pupils dilated and a suppressed moan left the parted tanned lips, his breaths growing rapid as deft fingers teasingly stroked his manhood.

A wild sort of glee shone from within the depths of the usually cold orbs of green as they watched the Arrancar's tanned face color with a dusting of red, his ears filled with moans of indulgence as he allowed more contact between them – rubbing the palm of his hand against the head of Grimmjow's member, his fingers encircling the length and alternately tightening and loosening their hold. Grimmjow had now closed his eyes, baring his canines as he tried to lower the volume of his gasps, and Ulquiorra couldn't help thinking that he actually liked seeing that look on the fallen Espada. The heat pooling in his private regions only confirmed his thoughts. The Privaron's hips started to buck against his hand, begging for more contact, and the jade-eyed Arrancar's lips raised a small smile when Grimmjow's remaining arm suddenly latched onto his waist, roughly pulling his lower body down and creating delicious friction.

"O-Oh fuck!" Grimmjow rasped aloud as he ground his hips, feeling the dark-haired Espada's own erection prodding the tense muscles of his groin. Ulquiorra's body shook with excitement, his right hand loosing its grip on his fellow Arrancar's member as his body began to act on instinct; never before experienced sensuality had filled the pale man's system and it was simply overwhelming. The pale face buried itself on the crook of Grimmjow's neck (angled in a way that the bone helm wouldn't accidentally bruise his partner) both his hands were clutching the aqua-haired man's shoulders – his right hand wet due to his previous activities.

The tanned Privaron found his senses blurring as Ulquiorra's hot breaths came onto his already heated skin. The feel of the other's smooth and pale skin under his hand and the way that Ulquiorra seemed to be holding on only made him want to keep his superior ever closer. And don't even get him started on – dare he say it? – the almost adorable sounds that Ulquiorra made as they were both engulfed in the throes of passion. The tanned hand slipped to the middle of the Espada's back, calloused palm committing to memory every curve on the immaculate expense of flesh that moved with slow synchrony with him.

Jade eyes open with a snap as he felt Grimmjow's hand on his rear, black-tipped fingers digging into the Privaron's shoulders. "Je-Jeagerjaquez… hold on…" Ulquiorra murmured, ceasing his motions for a moment and raising his gaze to meet an equally haze sapphire pair.

"What?" Grimmjow growled, he needed more fucking contact god damn it.

The porcelain face was flushed, as was the rest of the Espada's body, when he slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, his small chest heaving – the gothic four marked on it was layered with sweat. "…Why don't we… move on…?

"Move what?!" Something close to anger flared within the sapphire orbs as Ulquiorra slowly picked himself up and appeared to be leaving.

Pale hands were flat against the floor with arms straightened as Ulquiorra hovered over the demoted Espada, green eyes glinting at the sight of imminent rage at the latter's face at his assumed departure; tanned fingers were digging into his waist. "Don't worry, we are not done just yet…" The lithe Arrancar stated softly, and with that assurance, Grimmjow allowed his hand to fall. Ulquiorra proceeded to push himself up, shifting his position until he had Grimmjow's legs on either side of him. The aqua-haired Arrancar's manhood was in full erection in front of him and Ulquiorra just couldn't stop the corner of his lips from quirking up. The ebony-haired Espada placed one hand on either side of Grimmjow's hips and positioned himself at the man's entrance. He flicked his gaze momentarily towards that tanned man's face and found a highly flushed Grimmjow looking back expectantly at him. Ulquiorra smiled.

In one quick thrust, he pushed his erection into the inferior Arrancar. Grimmjow gave a pained shout, the dark scar across his chest expanding and contracting with every heave as he coped with the member that had entered; his back end felt as though it was going to be ripped in two.

The pale-skinned Espada, waited for the muscles surrounding his manhood to relax, he wasn't that cruel, after all. Grimmjow's ragged breathing eventually calmed down and the superior Arrancar took it as a sign to go on. In a careful motion, Ulquiorra pulled out, reveling in the faint gasps and moans that managed to escape Grimmjow's lips despite the latter's efforts to quell them. The dark-haired Espada pulled back until only the head of his cock was inside Grimmjow before pushing his length inside once more in an unhurried pace.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth, his rear still in the getting-used-to-stage of this kind of intercourse. Ulquiorra's hands were firmly planted on his hips, keeping his body down as the lithe man leisurely moved in and out of him. The aqua-haired man kept his head against the floor, gasping as pleasure slowly mixed in, and eventually overpowered, the pain in his system; coinciding with the quickening pace of Ulquiorra's thrusts.

Half-lidded jade eyes watched as Grimmjow's eyes slid shut and the tanned lips parted to freely allow his voice to flow. Ulquiorra himself pardoned his façade to break, even for just this occasion – his cheeks dusted with pink, his dual-colored lips parted to give way for his quick breaths, his slim body layered with sweat. The Cuatro Espada doubled his efforts in driving into his fallen comrade, lifting one hand to stroke Grimmjow's member which was quite literally begging for attention. He closed his right hand on the throbbing shaft, not minding the semen that copiously ran down the appendage.

"Fuck… U-Ulquiorra…" the Privaron's voice was rough as his eyes shot open at the feel of Ulquiorra's hand around him once again. The pale hand moved up and down his manhood, the tight strokes moving in tune with the pale-skinned man's thrusts. Melted pools of sapphire stared down, seeing the higher-ranking Arrancar throw back his head, with strands of ebony sticking onto his sweat-covered face, the immaculate petite figure moving so sensually that Grimmjow was left in a daze. Gradually, he raised himself from the floor using his right hand. The tanned man hoisted himself into a leaned-back sitting position, Ulquiorra not appearing to mind his shift in posture. The Cuatro merely opened his eyes by a fraction as though wondering why his partner had suddenly risen.

Acting on instinct, and the temptation was really driving him crazy anyway, Grimmjow reached out and grabbed the ebony-haired man by his nape and pulled him closer. Ulquiorra froze at the sudden pull, pausing with his member deep within the muscular Arrancar, and before he could make sense of the situation, Grimmjow sunk his canines into the joint of his neck and right shoulder. Bright green eyes flew open at the wet feeling of teeth, tongue and lips on his skin, not to mention the cold feeling of Pantera's jawbone pressing against his exposed cheek. The tanned hand slid downwards, wrapping around the pale man's slender waist and leaving no space between their bodies. The fallen Espada then began to move, lifting his body up and down, the feeling of Ulquiorra's hard length inside of him sent waves of pleasure through his whole system. Canine teeth traveled down the smooth shoulder, marring the flawless porcelain with pinkish teeth marks and alternately kissing and sucking, drawing out muffled moans from his superior.

As Grimmjow lowered himself onto his superior's erect member, an electric shock shook him as he felt the head hit a particular spot. Canines were exposed as the aqua-haired man breathed heavily, fingernails digging into the pale flesh of Ulquiorra's waist, his head leaning heavily against Ulquiorra's as strands of aqua and ebony entangling with each other, the bone fragment on his right cheek pressing hard against the Cuatro's.

"Grimmjow…" was the call that escaped Ulquiorra's lips as the fallen Espada's movements became frenzied. His own pale hands had been displaced, now wrapped around the tanned man's middle as he steadied the latter in his movements. The heat pooling in his nether regions were reaching uncharted heights with every thrust until the sensations completely blinded him; both men were now acting on impulse, on that basic carnal need that was never really taken from them when they had turned into hollows in the first place.

Everything was on fire. Knots were tightening in their groins until that one last thrust finally sent both men over the edge. Release was a sweet sensation; sticky, if you'd wish to take things literally. Weary bodies were half-collapsed against each other. Harsh breaths were all that were exchanged as reason and logic gradually returned, bringing along a sense of uncertainty.

Breaths came out from parted black and white lips as the Cuatro Espada kept his face buried in the crook of Grimmjow's neck. His ebony hair was sticking to his face and neck and he felt unbelievably wet. The grip of his nails on his subordinate's abdomen was loose as exhaustion washed over him. He inhaled Grimmjow's distinctive scent and his fingertips add just the slightest bit of pressure in their hold.

Eventually, after what seemed to be long minutes of rest, Ulquiorra finally raised his hands and placed them on Grimmjow's shoulders, mildly pushing the taller man back until the latter was lying on the floor again. Grimmjow would've normally resisted or made some sort of argument but he remained uncharacteristically mute, letting the Espada push him back. The cool mien had returned to the lithe man's face as he nimbly pulled his length out; a trail of excretion following it on the way out.

Ulquiorra sat back for a moment, sapphire eyes holding his gaze; silence reigned between them until the pale-skinned Espada lowered his gaze towards the Privaron's torso. Grimmjow followed his superior's stare and found his mind going blank at the sight of his front all scar-free, as though he had never been hit in the first place. Surprisingly, the anger that he felt wasn't as extreme as he'd expected; the loss of his scar seeming to be far too trivial now that he was faced with the cold hard fact that he just had sex with Ulquiorra Cifer.

"You seem to take the situation well…" the jade-eyed Arrancar noted lightly, putting his legs together and sitting with them on one side as Grimmjow easily remained in a somewhat spread-eagled position.

"I shoulda known you'd have your way in the end, son of a bitch…" the aqua-haired man muttered with minimal bitterness in his tone.

"And here I'd thought you'd be livid…"

"Tsch… Aren't you supposed to get back to that bastard Aizen now? Report how you've done your stupid assignment and more…" sneered Grimmjow, eyes trained on the high ceiling.

"Aizen made it a point that it was not necessary to make a report of this assignment…" the Cuatro answered easily, making his way to sit by Grimmjow's left side.

Sapphire eyes narrowed on the pale figure, "So what more do you want?" he asked with a frown.

For an answer, Ulquiorra placed his left hand in the middle of Grimmjow's chest, a little way off from where the original scar was placed. The porcelain face was then brought near for jades and sapphires to see eye to eye. The Espada's cool gaze was met with the Privaron's hard stare and before any of them could say a word, Ulquiorra slashed his hand across Grimmjow's front, marking a straight line downwards.

"Oh fucking shit!" Grimmjow started, hissing at the feel of a fresh wound puncturing through his hierro.

The Cuatro's spiritual pressure seemingly burned along the path, remaking the scar but with a personal touch. Droplets of blood appeared along the central line, soiling the black-tipped fingers. Ulquiorra brought his hand to his face, showing the inferior Arrancar his own blood, returning the murderous glare with something that could've passed for a smirk. And, deliberately right in front of the muscular man, Ulquiorra took in his bloodstained fingers and leisurely licked off the red stain. And Grimmjow could only stare as his superior proceeded to do the same to the line of blood that he had created on his chest, black and white lips closing on his skin with a velvety pink tongue lapping up the coppery fluid, taking in even the flecks of semen that surrounded the wound he had inflicted.

If there was anything that Grimmjow was thankful for, it was the fact that this new 'scar' didn't reach into his hollow hole. And once Ulquiorra had raised himself off of him, the smile that the Espada wore only worked to send shivers down the mutilated man's spine.

"I wish to take you for my own, Grimmjow…" the jade-eyed man speaks softly, his quiet voice echoing in the large room, half-lidded eyes staring eye to eye with pools of blue.

The frown on Grimmjow's lips hardens as he processes the superior Arrancar's words. Well, who the fuck knew that the scrawny bitch had a thing for him after all? But damn it all, he never could tell what that porcelain-faced enigma was thinking! Telling him he was demoted and then initiating sex… Healing the scar left by the substitute reaper's attack and then making a new one by himself… What a fucking maniac.

Grimmjow finally huffed and sat up straight, not once breaking eye contact as he considered his options. Yeah or nada? Ulquiorra almost looked expectant, he could just see the eager little child within the depths of those cool jade eyes. Was Ulquiorra asking for commitment, though? Or did he mean that he just wanted him for sex? Heck, why was he even thinking of those things?

Ulquiorra was quietly waiting for an answer, thick lashes partly covering his wide green eyes as he watched Grimmjow's lips alternately tighten and loosen as the other man weighed his pros and cons.

At last, Grimmjow let out a snort and the devil-may-care smile was back on his lips, sapphire orbs aglow as he replied.

"Well, I've got no problem with that…" he laughed crudely, the old swagger back in his tone "Just one thing, though… I want your ass the next time, got it?"

"… Very well."

We just started the beginning of our end and we didn't even mind one bit.

A/N: Er… we have adominant!Ulqui… again… O_O I have a thing for that, don't I? Well, given that Salvage is gonna have a totally uke!Ulqui I think it'll be fair enough… :D

This was supposed to be entitled Fesseln und mit den Zähnen knirschen = (internet-based) German, Tied up (bound) and Grinding one's teeth because I damn suck at thinking up titles in English. But then I got high on listening to Grimm and Ulqui's character songs (Break and Crush the World Down), so voila! And 'impassion' is a pretty word :)… It's a stupid reason, I know… but heck, I also started to consider getting scientific, thinking up Chiroptera y Felidae for a possible title but… ahahah… /bricked.

My excuses for this one:

1) Technically, Shinigami, Vizards and Arrancar are dead souls already, right? So my mind has been plaguing me for about a week with the question of: How the freaking hell do they manage to BLEED if they're SOULS?! Aren't they quite, er, translucent/transparent or something… un-solid for the lack of a better word. Although it's quite understandable that they're 'solidified' for action's purposes… I mean, it'd be pretty stupid if they're all slashing each other and their blades just phase through their bodies… O_O

2) Aizen gave his minions (Espada/Fraccion/other Arrancar) clothes. Like, their jackets, hakamas and shoes, right? But my doujin-induced brain had the guts to ask me whether or not Aizen provided them with underwear. It's just so wrong, I know… but if anyone can give me a coherent answer for this, as well as for the question on 1), PLEASE DO.

3) I know I should be working on plotting for my multi-chapter fics right now but no ideas are popping up so yea… I'm medicating myself with R-18 doujins (where England should TOTALLY TOP America), waiting for ideas to hatch… There's a serious lack of GrimmUlqui doujins out there… or am I just looking at the wrong places? P: I have, like, 3 GrimmUlqui doujins saved (Dolls, Puzzle, and Fukurou Yamabushi) and that Petit Jako gag compilation-thing… So does anyone know of other GrimmUlqui/UlquiGrimm doujins?

4) I've been thinking that I've gone rusty on writing so I wanted to try this… y'know, adding in some sort of behind-the-scene-action in between the canon storyline and making it almost believable… Haha… I didn't know if this worked but… oh well… And that thing with Ulqui removing the burn of getsuga tenshou on Grimm's abdomen and replacing it with his own mark is really just my own imagination… Haha… we've all noticed how getsuga's mark was slanted but when Grimm goes back to the human world, the scar on him was already straight… fufufu… something happened behind the scenes over there…. –winkwink- -nudgenudge-

5) After long deliberation, I finally concluded that: Yes, Ulqui can/should/WOULD top once in a while… whenever he doesn't feel like bottoming… or something…

6) the Bleach manga hasn't updated for two weeks now… :3 I'm getting pissed…

And, er, uh… I really meant this for Christmas but it wasn't done on time, same excuse for New Year delay… but it's a sad sort of fic so it really doesn't fit the occasions so, here it is now… but it's still incomplete… :P But anyway…

Happy 17th Birthday to me~!

1/11/2010

P.S.

The next (and hopefully, last)part would be posted next week. Just let me get through my class report and tests, then we'll get going… :)