A/N: All right, this is the second of a ten-part challenge that KyoxSakiFan put me up to. This next category is to be 'fluff', and for it I decided to do some GrimmUlqui because it's my new favorite shounen-ai pairing for Bleach. :D

Um, I dunno what time this would be in. It's almost AU, since it doesn't really follow the canon events very well. So I hope no one reams me for that… Ah well. This is my first time ever writing for Bleach (despite being a long-time fan), so can you blame me for wanting to mess with things first time around? Besides, this is a drabble. It's meant to be random.

The air was dim and cool, the night laden with frostily-twinkling stars and smudges of dark purple galaxies ten times as far away as the distance between the human world and the realm of the Hollows.

It was on a night such as this that two Arancar slipped into the human world, their feet hovering tens of meters above the streets of Japan. They inch quietly toward the rooftops, their clothes no more than a whisper of rustling fabric, and their bodies no warmer than a shadow. They touch ground, the cement of one of the building tops grazing their sandals.

"I hate going on missions," the aquamarine-haired of the two males complained as he crossed his arms over his bare, scarred chest.

"I detest them as well, but we have no say in the matter," his black-haired companion responded mildly. "We must follow Aizen-sama's orders."

"Che," the other clicked his tongue in protest. "One of these days, I swear I'm gonna –"

"Save your breath, Grimmjow," the other retorted. "Mutinous talk is best spoken in your head alone. You never know who might be listening."

"Maybe I don't give a damn who hears me," Grimmjow snapped back. "Besides, you feel the same way, don't you, Ulquiorra?"

The smaller boy had no comment to this. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and began walking toward the edge of the building.

"Fine, don't answer me then," Grimmjow grunted as he made to follow suit. "It's not like I was aiming to team up with you or anything." When in fact he had been.

"This way," Ulquiorra beckoned monotonously. He hopped down to the alleyway below and backed up against the brick wall. The air here smelled of dog piss and rotting garbage in tins, which was enough to make Grimmjow's sensitive nose twitch in disgust. He sunk against the wall beside his unwanted partner, the metallic taste of blood already settling on his tongue. "Now keep quiet," the pale boy reminded him. "Our target is just across the street."

Grimmjow brought his hand to the hilt of his sword. A surprise attack, he thought, would work best on someone like Kurosaki Ichigo. Jump out of nowhere, swords blazing – that was the way to go.

"Don't get overexcited, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra whispered by the other's ear. "I will not permit a screw-up. This Ichigo character is nothing but a worthless piece of flesh, nothing we need to spend too much of our time on. So if you do exactly what I say, all should go well."

"And what if I don't want to?" Grimmjow hissed in riposte. The grip on his weapon tightened. "You're not the boss of me, Ulquiorra. They only sent you with me because I messed up last time."

"That is precisely why I'm giving you orders," Ulquiorra replied in a slightly lower tone. Could that be a hint of irritation in his normally dead voice?

Grimmjow focused hard on the orange-haired figure across from them. He scowled, remembering his fight with the bastard in the street a while back. Sure, he had won it (essentially), but that still didn't deter from the fact that he hated the human-slash-Soul-Reaper.

"On my mark…" Ulquiorra began, "And…"

"Now!" Grimmjow burst out. With a roar so vastly similar to the great cat form he takes on as a Hollow, the sapphire-eyed Arancar exploded from his hiding place and aimed his sword at Ichigo. The orange-haired man dodged it, and dropped his human body to the ground as he took on his Soul Reaper form.

Sighing to himself in disappointment, Ulquiorra revealed himself and withdrew his sword with a blank expression. Ichigo spotted him, and yelled, "Hey, I know you! You're that bastard who was with that big guy that nearly killed Orihime!"

Ulquiorra said not a thing, merely blinked his emerald eyes slowly and pointed his sword at the orange-haired teen. "Aizen-sama sent us here to capture you. Accept your fate peacefully; it's easier."

"Never!" the teen shouted at the two. "I won't go down without a fight!"

Grimmjow smirked. "Good; I was hoping we'd get a re-match. Stay out of this fight, Ulquiorra; I want to finish off this worm on my own. But I'm curious… I wonder if you're any better?"

He didn't need long to find out. Within an hour, Ulquiorra had to intervene. "It seems we've reached an impasse," he stated coolly as he took an unconscious Grimmjow into his arms. He couldn't leave the man here; Aizen would be terribly angry. If his little puppets could work another day, even wounded, then he wanted them to return. "We have failed, but we will return, Kurosaki Ichigo. There is much to be done between Aizen-sama and your group."

With this, the boy left. He retreated as Ichigo shouted at his back, demanding that they finish this once and for all. But Ulquiorra was having none of that; he knew defeat when he saw it, and knew how to regroup and attack later.

Finding a temporary safe haven in an abandoned building, Ulquiorra laid Grimmjow down. The other Arancar was barely conscious, and was dripping dark blood. The hole in his abdomen was black in the night, and his hair looked a dark grey. Without hesitation, Ulquiorra tore off the bottom three inches of Grimmjow's pants. He used them to messily bandage the gushing wounds around the taller man's torso. "You were foolish to have fought him so teasingly. You should have knocked him unconscious so that we could bring him back with us without a fuss."

Grimmjow groaned a bit in pain as he acknowledged his partner's words. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he grunted. His eyes peeked open, the bright color looking dark in the shadows of the night. "Why are you taking care of my wounds?"

"I was assigned to look after you," Ulquiorra replied listlessly. "It is my duty."

Weakly, Grimmjow raised his hand to stop the other. His tan fingers coiled around the pale boy's wrist. "You could've helped me fight."

"You told me not to."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow tiredly. "And you actually listened? Who's giving who orders now, hmm?"

Ulquiorra tore himself from Grimmjow's grip. "It doesn't matter." He stood. "We should return."

"No," Grimmjow croaked as he struggled to sit up. "I want to spend the night here in the human world."

"Why? This place is like a garbage pit, full of nothing worthwhile."

Grimmjow gave him a crooked grin. "That's where you're wrong, Ulquiorra. This place is like hidden garden: it's somewhere you can escape to without having to worry about anything for a bit."

Ulquiorra turned back to his companion. "You're saying… that you run away here sometimes not because you're looking for trouble, but because you desire freedom?"

"From Aizen and Gin and everyone else? Yes," Grimmjow mumbled as he wiped some of the caked on blood from his face. He looked up at the black-haired boy, his face as stony and sad-looking as ever with those dark teal tear trails painted down his cheeks and the deep eyebrows shaped in a constant frown. "Have you ever wanted freedom, Ulquiorra?"

"Once," the other replied as he sat down again, his legs crossing over themselves as if he were about o meditate. "When I was vaguely aware of being a creature akin to a human, something alive and with a beating heart."

"What did you want to be free from? Do you remember?" Grimmjow inquired, a twinge of pain contorting his features for a moment. Blood seeped through his hastily-made coverings, oozing out in a dark circle from the center of his wound. It tinted his fingertips red.

"No, I don't," Ulquiorra replied, his voice softer than it was a moment ago. "I simply remember feeling suffocated, as though I needed to break away and take a breath of air."

"Well, now's your chance," Grimmjow answered as he laid back down so not to tear his wounds any further. "We're here now, and no one will come looking for us until another day or so."

"You propose that we should sit here and do nothing? Pointless."

"I didn't say nothing," Grimmjow answered as he glanced the other's way. "Come here."

"What for?"

"Just come," he said with a roll of his blue topaz eyes. The black-haired boy gracefully moved to the wounded Arancar's side. Grimmjow reached up and stroked his pale cheek, which felt as cool as the night air around them. "You know, I don't hate you like I do everyone else."

"I thought a creature like ourselves would only feel hatred."

"Just because we have a hole where our hearts should be doesn't make us emotionless," Grimmjow told him sternly. His touch became rougher, his fingers sliding down Ulquiorra's throat with added pressure. They rested on the hole between the smaller boy's collar bones. "So why are you always so impassive?"

"I find no need for emotion. It is too… human." He took Grimmjow's hands off of his body and placed them flat on the ground. But he didn't take his hand away. He leaned down, his hair slipping out form under his half-mask and tickling Grimmjow's face. "So what do you gain from expressing so many emotions?"

"Reaction," the aquamarine-haired of the two said. "I like seeing what will happen if I act cocky, or angry, or excited. I like seeing, too, what happens if I break the rules and so as I wish. Because if I don't, who will? Everyone else is too afraid."

Ulquiorra considered this. "In short, you think you're a rebel."

"I am a rebel."

They stared at one another for a minute, Ulquiorra's hand still atop Grimmjow's, his face still close enough to feel the other's breathing. Grimmjow twisted his fingers to roughly grip the pale hand on his. He yanked downward, forcing Ulquiorra's mouth to his own, curious to see what the stoic boy would do. He wanted, for a brief moment, to taste freedom. To taste what it would be like to break another rule, to stir another reaction.

To his surprise, Ulquiorra bent down and played along, his pearly lips timidly gliding over Grimmjow's. He supported himself with a hand on the floor beside Grimmjow's ribs, which were aching, but were unimportant compared to the kiss being planted on his dry mouth.

He didn't like how dry it was. So, without any warning, Grimmjow flicked out his tongue to wet his lips, but out of surprise at the sensation, it opened the door into Ulquiorra's mouth. Grimmjow took this chance to explore. Grimmjow was pleased to find the other still playing along, his tongue swirling around to meet his own.

When Ulquiorra pulled up, his eyes were wide and thoughtful instead of low and bored like they usually are. He scanned Grimmjow's face, which from above, appeared to be amused.

"You kissed me back," the blue-eyed man stated.

"And your point is?" was the dull reply.

Grimmjow's lips broke into a smile. "You wanted freedom, too. You can add another instance to your list."