Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

So here it is, the final chapter (and the end of this damnably long lemon).

Enjoy

"Lie down."

"No, it's cold. I want to stand up."

"Suck it up, Princess. You're going down by yourself or I'm not finishing you off."

Ichigo lay down.

The bluenette crawled over to him, not bothered to stand up yet. Manoeuvring the redhead's legs to accommodate him, he settled himself between and bent to flick his tongue over the tip of the Soul Reaper's dick. He traced a vein down the shaft before circling the slit and sliding his mouth back down. Keeping a warning hold on the Shinigami's hips the whole time – no way was he letting the punk-ass shit make him gag. Humming again, he pushed his wet muscle across the unnervingly warm length that sat fully in his mouth.

The boy below him strained against his hold, a sharp pants barely covering the near moans that coincided with every contraction of Grimmjow's lips as he bobbed between the Soul Reaper's thighs.

The fingers tangled in his mullet began to claw at his scalp and his hips jerked harder than before, knowing that it would be the single most irritating thing he could do short of leaving the redhead with blue balls, Grimmjow pushed up and levered his mouth off of the boy's cock. Leaning back, he spread his legs a little, enjoying the simultaneously wanting and monumentally pissed expressions that danced across the teenager's face. The sight of Grimmjow's perky dick, swollen and at attention that offset the pallid tone of the rest of the ex-Espada's skin, coupled with the blue knots that curled around the base and the longer strands that swung from his head to scrape the tip, made Ichigo's decision and the boy rose to meet the Arrancar.

Keeping his eyes on Ichigo, Grimmjow set his hands upon himself and began to stroke, teasing but not obscuring his cock. He felt his dick respond to the Shinigami's responding gulp as his face coloured further.

"Go get the oil. You know where it is."

The younger rose and headed for his jeans, sorting through the pockets until he found the small bottle, more by touch than sight. He hadn't taken his eyes from the bluenette for even the briefest of seconds.

Pausing in his ministrations, Grimmjow took the bottle from Ichigo and squirted some of the contents into his hand. Even before the Arrancar instructed him, the teenager's hands had replaced his own and he huffed lightly with satisfaction. Flicking the screw top once more, Grimmjow coated his fingers and reached around to the redhead's favourite orifice. Tossing the bottle aside, he began to rub the puckered, discoloured skin with unprecedentedly gentle motions. Whilst this wasn't Ichigo's first time, it hadn't been so many times that the boy was entirely used to his invasion.

Biting back a moan, Ichigo fingered the Arrancar's thick shaft, oil slicking his digits more thoroughly than the cock he so gently massaged. His breathing hastened as a deadly nail slid through his sphincter.

"Damn Kitty, cut your nails once in a while, would you?" Vainly he hoped that Grimmjow didn't hear the quaver in his words.

His only response was the light tremor of a second nail being dragged along the stretched skin of his entrance. He tried not to shiver, though failed miserably.

Below him, Grimmjow worked his digit around, searching for Ichigo's volume control. Pulling out almost completely, he pressed a second nail up, adding to the indignity. Scissoring forward and pushing deeper than before, he felt around for the magic spot. Ichigo shifted a little, usually a sign that Grimmjow was close. He continued in the same direction, though using the tapered tip of his nail. Sensing a change in texture through the dead cells, he scratched a little harder, relishing the sharp intake of breath from the Shinigami. Moving back once more, he added the final finger, stretching and re-affirming his knowledge of the terrain before pulling all the fingers out and aligning himself.

He turned his head briefly, looking to Ichigo for confirmation. Then, gifted with a slight nod, he slid into the silken warmth of the redhead's hotter than Hell teenaged ass.

They sighed with synchronicity, both more than a little relieved to be on the home straight. For as satisfying as coitus always was, they never quite relaxed with each other. There was still the underlying danger of their bloodlust, staunched as it was but never quite gone. And what closer feeling to the adrenaline charge, the tense muscles and sweat slicked skin of battle was there other than sex?

Sex with an enemy, no less.

Seating himself, Grimmjow paused a moment, allowing the boy above him to adjust to the sensation.

But only a moment, the Sexta never had been patient. Slowly, he brought himself out, hovering millimetres inside before re-sheathing himself, pushing faster than he should have, though not quite caring as long as those heat soaked walls slipped around him.

Ichigo made a soft 'hnnn' into his shoulder, probably more out of pain than pleasure at this point. Opening his mouth, he set his teeth to Grimmjow's shoulder, suckling the skin as his canines dug in. Grimmjow almost chuckled at the useless revenge, slowing his pace a little in order to change the angle, hoping that this would alter Ichigo's reaction.

The Shinigami flicked his hips up into the contact. Grinding down as the Arrancar found his prostate. He leaned into Grimmjow and hovered, obviously wondering whether a kiss would be tolerated.

The ex-Espada complied, sliding his lips against those of the Shinigami and dragging his teeth over the nerves on the inside of the lip. Causing Ichigo to buck a little, pushing his erection over the Arrancar's abdominals. The contact had him suck in air, still refusing to make any noise.

The kiss intensified, leaving Grimmjow with an idea.

Pulling out with a wet 'thunk', he scooted back against the wall, giving Ichigo a 'come hither' look and loving that the hard and needy Shinigami complied immediately. Leaning forward, he kissed any mild confusion right out of the boy. Gripping the redhead's hips but Ichigo needed no encouragement to kneel in exactly the right position for the Arrancar's swollen, leaky tip to tease the slicked hole.

Slipping his lips from Grimmjow's, the soul reaper sent him a knowing look before lowering himself onto the waiting shaft with excessive force. The ex-Espada felt the squidgy pile of nerves against his slit as Ichigo's silent scream vibrated through him. Recovering from the accidental assault on his prostate, the Shinigami began a truly punishing pace above the Arrancar –obviously aiming for a moan for his efforts.

The sight of the teenager twisting above him, coupled with the wringing sensations the boy's walls exerted on his erection, lead the Arrancar's balls to begin tightening. Pushing his head back against the cave wall, he muttered a lowly fuck, before closing his eyes and starting to meet Ichigo's every move, abusing the soul reaper's prostate to the point of pain, if the blissed out, edgy look on the boy's face was anything to go by.

Licking his way up the Shinigami's neck, Grimmjow tongued his ear, leaving words in his wake.

"Can I?"

It was the one concession to normality their relationship had: Grimmjow had enough grudging respect for the younger not to spill himself inside without permission.

His answer came in the form of a double assault of Ichigo's teeth finding purchase in the junction of the Arrancar's neck and a particularly firm clench and grind from the teenager's posterior.

Well, shit. Thought Grimmjow, feeling himself flow into Ichigo as the boy's finger's played with his balls, teasing the orgasm as long as he could.

Without removing himself, the ex-Espada brought a hand to the Shinigami's member, pumping slowly, steadily, until Ichigo found himself minus a few grams of fluid.

Stilling his hand, the Arrancar locked eyes with the soul reaper. It was a few seconds before reality came a-knocking and Ichigo scrambled up, face reddening to rival Renji's flamethrower hair. Slowly, Grimmjow rose, moving to where the boy was hopping around, trying to get his jeans back on straight. From behind, he slipped his arms around the younger's torso, more hoping to irritate the teenager than anything else.

He resolutely ignored the brief happiness he felt when Ichigo stilled beneath him, leaning his head lightly on the bluenette's shoulder.

" . . . Grimmy."

Aaand cut.

Aren't I evil? *grins*.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.