Thank you thank you thank you Vikishus and Crypt for beta reading and sufering my broken spacebar. You are life savers ; A ; I love you both

I hope the wait was worth it, I'm lowkey panic so HHH enjoy guys kjnerkjng

-xxx-

Ichigo Kurosaki

He sank his blade through Zangetsu's sternum, through his hollow hole, the broad edge cutting up through his neck. Long, white hair parted around the steel in a curtain. It was a ghastly sight to see himself impaled, yet there was no blood, there was never any blood. Ichigo snarled, "Fight me!"

Making no effort to remove the blade, his hollow lowered his arm, a mirrored blade sinking into coarse black sand. "My heart's not in it," Zangetsu said. "Your heart isn't in it." This was a distraction at best, but Zangetsu no longer humored him. Ichigo couldn't blame him. He didn't want to fight, he wanted Grimmjow.

His arrancar was alive, that should have been enough, but it wasn't. Grimmjow could have been free and he'd dragged him back against his wishes. Selfish. Selfish and he'd do it all again if he had to.

Grimmjow left, and he hadn't come back.

Why should he?

He whirled, tearing his sword from Zangetsu's chest, and the window beneath his feet crunched and snapped like a frozen lake. His hollow didn't move, eyes boring into his back. He didn't watch him with judgement or pity, only expectation. Ichigo tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword, sensing Zangetsu's frustration with him. Zangetsu was his lifeline, the one thing he needed to keep close.

His hand on the hilt squeezed so tightly he trembled. Pain dogged his every waking moment, but real sleep eluded him. So he hid.

He hadn't left his inner world since Grimmjow left. He played it over and over in his head, his last memory of the arrancar drowning out the memory of his death.

Ossan spoke, a hard edge in his tone. "You cannot stay in your own mind forever, Ichigo."

"I can't go back. I can't." He missed his sisters, he missed his friends, but he couldn't face them. Whether they knew what he'd done or not, he couldn't. He was nothing like the brother they remembered.

Zangetsu's hand tightened on his shoulder, spinning him around. "You don't have to, but you can't stay here." His hollow gestured wildly at a world they knew too well. "Look at this place!"

Ichigo knew, he'd been there for days, but he looked anyways. There was no more storm, Alteza's progress was halted by Shinigami, yet the city in his soul was mostly broken and buried. It was still and silent, screaming in his ears beneath the forlorn whispers of restless Gods. They hated Shinigami, if they could hate at all. Or maybe he'd imprinted that onto raw force. He loathed Shinigami, and if he was in his inner world, at least he was alone save for the Gods.

Tears pulled at his eyes, but they didn't fall. He was so tired of it all.

Zangetsu moved closer, lifting his hand to his cheek. His hollow turned his attention back to him, his voice soft. "I know you're tired."

There was no filter between him and his hollow, there was no reason for it. His voice broke. "I don't like who I've become."

The things he didn't say were shared in a look. He was tired of being relied on, of letting people down, of failing. "You were bred to fight, you were raised to kill, and somehow you can still love, you can be gentle." His hollow moved his hand to his throat, his touch tame, for once. "I'm proud of you, Ichigo. You're strong."

"I never wanted to be a monster."

Zangetsu countered, "Aizen didn't win. You may be a monster, but you're a monster with a heart. Pain lets us know we're alive."

Ichigo whispered, "I wish I wasn't."

Zangetsu knew that, saying it, didn't make it any more or less real, but his hollow's expression faltered. "You aren't the only one who feels like a failure." His hollow leaned in, almost close enough to touch foreheads, but he didn't touch. "Let me…"

Ichigo's grip on his sword slackened, the hilt slipping from his fingers to ring off of concrete and glass.

He wasn't king anymore.

-xxx-

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

8 days later

He woke up sweaty and tense. It wasn't panic, or fear, it was just another realistic dream. He'd been fighting Kurosaki. In that dream, he'd been so much stronger than Kurosaki, but to finally get hit by an attack strong enough to slice through his hierro...he had that dream a lot. He rubbed a hand over the tingling, itching scar across his chest.

All of his dreams involved Kurosaki somehow. It took one memory in particular for him to realize the dream wasn't his own memories, but Kurosaki's. People and places he'd never met, a lonely desert, killing hollows, but with a narrow blade black as night, a blade he'd known was Zangetsu. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did.

A lot of these dreams began to melt into the backdrop of memory. It made him nervous.

Swinging his feet off the bed, he replaced Pantera at his side and frowned at the wall. The door was gone. He sighed.

Las Noches always changed, but it was so frequent now. He'd come to realize this was the reason Harribel needed Kurosaki.

He was changing Hueco Mundo and didn't even realize it. It turned out that having a heartbroken God in control of their entire world wasn't a good thing.

He could fix this, Grimmjow knew he could.

Not with any power bestowed onto him. He wasn't truly a host, he merely slipped beneath Alteza's notice. But he held Kurosaki's heart in his claws. He could crush it, or nurture it, and thus far, he'd done nothing.

He couldn't make anything worse if he simply did nothing.

Pacing up to the now solid wall, Grimmjow wrapped la sangre around him and flickered to the other side of it rather than destroy it.

It was simple practice. He could use it or ignore it and it was pointless to ignore. So he practiced.

Nothing big, just small things to pass the time or for convenience. Things that pulled his thoughts away from Kurosaki.

Neiliel had told him everything she knew, and all the information she'd learned secondhand. Grimmjow had taken that knowledge and he'd disappeared.

He didn't want to be found, and they couldn't find him. His reiatsu might have been boosted, but he didn't have the problem sensing others that Kurosaki did; avoiding others was easy.

He knew Harribel had something to say to him about Szayel, but he didn't want to talk about it. He still didn't know why he'd done it. It was such a deep disgust and rage, he couldn't think of a single thing Szayel had done to deserve it. He couldn't think of it, but when he closed his eyes to sleep, he felt phantom pain he didn't remember feeling. He woke in a cold sweat, convincing himself he was intact and alone.

Never before had he felt this level of paranoia, which led him to believe it was Kurosaki. He knew he'd been through some fucked up shit, but to sink into his actual soul was…a shock.

In all actuality, he could just fuck off to the desert, but a free bed was better than sand and stone, and truth be told, he liked feeling the hum of reiatsu that wasn't his own. He didn't want to be alone. He'd had a taste of what it was like without that bone-deep loneliness and he couldn't go back.

It really wasn't the same.

He could sense all of them, but they couldn't sense him back. The situation wasn't equal.

Kurosaki had tried again and again to explain what that isolation was like, and now it finally made sense. He didn't have half the power Kurosaki did and all it took was talking with Neleil to fully understand. He couldn't go back.

One moment clung to his thoughts and refused to fade. The rooftop. That was the moment Kurosaki's attitude towards him had changed, and it hadn't been love driving his actions, but fear. He should have realized. He felt so stupid in hindsight.

He'd been fragile, he'd broken under his hands, and Kurosaki hadn't forgotten. From the look on Kurosaki's face when he'd come to in this new body, the demigod knew what he'd done. And he hadn't regretted it.

To be so desperate that he would act, despite knowing he might drive him away forever. Grimmjow didn't think he'd ever been so desperate before.

He gave everything to Kurosaki and he took it all and then some. But as much as he felt he was cursed, he felt like he'd been given a gift. Or rather, a gift was forced upon him. He wasn't tied to Kurosaki's soul by a thread, it was a part of him, for better and for worse.

He was still angry about that, but with it came a whole new brand of loneliness. Fuck Kurosaki for this, but he couldn't help what he wanted.

He hoped Kurosaki would come after him and make the decision for him, but he didn't. Kurosaki killed people he truly wanted to protect for a small chance to bring him back, there was no doubting his conviction.

Kurosaki wanted him. Yet he'd stayed away, he hadn't even set foot in Hueco Mundo.

Was Kurosaki a coward, or was he doing it for his sake? Grimmjow just didn't know. He didn't know, but he wanted to. Badly.

"Fuck…" He wandered, having no destination in mind and nowhere to go. He drifted through unfamiliar hallways and sprawling rooms and eventually found someone he didn't think he wanted to see.

"Grimmjow," Starrk said. No emotion, just an acknowledgement, and he was walking away.

Surprised he was ignored, Grimmjow watched him pass and called, "Wait."

The other arrancar paused, turning back in curiosity. They weren't friends, their only tie was Kurosaki, and the very fact they were an arrancar, but now there was something more. "Can I ask you something?"

The other arrancar furrowed his brow, likely unsettled by the fact Grimmjow was speaking to him at all. Grimmjow asked, "You want to put your soul back together?"

Starrk swayed back on his heels, already disengaging from his line of questioning. "I do."

Grimmjow didn't think there was a tactful way to broach the subject, so he blurted, "What does it feel like?"

That question must have sounded insulting, because Starrk narrowed his eyes and turned away. Rather than annoyance, Grimmjow felt a flash of panic. He'd nearly forgotten about Starrk, and he was probably the one person alive who could answer his questions.

Flickering into sonido, Grimmjow was face to face with Starrk when the other arrancar turned away, hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait." Starrk looked to his hand, then back up, and waited, but only with the casual resignation of someone who knew they had no choice.

Getting his way felt too easy, maybe even wrong. Was this how Kurosaki felt? No wonder the hybrid let him get away with murder. Knowing Starrk had no choice but to listen made him want to let him go, and wasn't there some irony in that? Finally got all the power he wanted and he didn't even want to use it.

Grimmjow took his hand back and said, "I know Kurosaki promised to fix you."

"Everybody knows that."

"So that means something is broken. What does it feel like?"

"I don't feel inclined to answer, Grimmjow." Starrk looked past him, and back, clearly interested in ending the conversation.

"I don't give a damn what you do Starrk, I'm just looking for answers. What I tell you has to stay between us."

The other hollow didn't seem sold, but Grimmjow wasn't ready to spill Kurosaki's secrets for nothing. "Starrk." It wasn't a please, but it was as close to begging as his conscience would allow.

The hollow faltered, then made an irritated sound. "Who am I going to tell, Grimmjow?"

That was as good as a promise from a prideful hollow, but he scoffed anyway. "Harribel?"

"My loyalties still lie with Kurosaki."

That surprised Grimmjow. Starrk didn't seem the type for loyalties, but what did he know? He said, "Kurosaki ripped his soul in half, he did what you did, but he put it in me."

Starrk's eyes widened. "Why did he do that?"

That wasn't a subject Grimmjow was willing to touch with a ten foot pole. "Ask him yourself. I need to know."

Starrk's expression shifted, Grimmjow didn't recognize it, but he didn't look happy. "It's a sort of ache. Like a part of yourself is missing. I'm not sure how to describe it. Longing?"

That was a feeling he recognized, and now he wasn't so certain his desire was his own. He felt an ache as strong as the hollow in his gut, a yearning for Kurosaki that brought with them mixed feelings. He asked, "Does being apart from Lilynette hurt?"

Starrk's eyes fell on a wall, looking through it towards his other half. "In a way. I'm not sure if being closer makes it better or worse."

Grimmjow frowned, and both fell into silence. There was no guarantee this need would disappear if he found Kurosaki or not. His emotions were tangled and frayed in the confusing razorwire of Kurosaki's soul, there was no telling which thread led to his own experiences or not.

Eventually Starrk couldn't take the silence. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

His attention snapped back to Starrk and he blinked. "Yeah...yeah that's it."

Starrk passed him and said, "I'm sure Kurosaki had his reasons, but I don't envy either of you."

That felt unnecessarily ominous, but with how hard Starrk was trying to pull himself and Lilynette together, Grimmjow didn't think he could blame him.

He was left alone again, and he finally had a word for what he felt. Absence.

Grimmjow decided he'd had enough. He wanted to see Kurosaki, touch him, feel his reiatsu pushing in around him. His past blurred with a life he'd never lived, with memories he'd never known, and he craved something real. He didn't know where Kurosaki even was, or how to get there, but he felt the tug through his soul. Or he supposed that was Kurosaki's soul. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the one person he wanted to see most in that world.

He opened them again in darkness that no longer crippled his sight. Kurosaki stood just an arms length away, slivers of citrine fixed on him, aflare as moons in the dark. For a split second, Kurosaki was a ravening God in the dark, an unsung threat.

And then he blinked, eyes alight with recognition.

It wasn't Kurosaki he was facing, it was his hollow, he'd know that look anywhere. Zangetsu always seemed, at any given point, tied between killing him and appeasing his wielder. He stood differently; Looser, more assured. Kurosaki always seemed tense, a panicked animal ready to bite. Zangetsu was another aspect of Kurosaki, but he was surprisingly more predictable.

Turning to face him fully, the hollow drawled, "Koneko."

"I wanna talk to Kurosaki."

The hollow did something unexpected. His gaze faltered, eyes falling to the dark. There was nothing to look at in that light-starved abyss, but it occupied his attention as if there was nothing else in the world. Zangetsu answered, "Ichigo is...he's had enough."

"You never call him that."

Zangetsu looked back. "I'm in control now."

"Why?"

"I told you why. He's done, he's tired."

"Can he hear me?"

"No."

Panic sank into his chest like a spike and Grimmjow stepped forward. "I wanna talk to Kurosaki."

"You're as much a part of him as I am now."

Grimmjow blinked, but no more was said. "Okay...what am I supposed to do with that?"

"So go get him. He pulled you into his inner world once before, that place should be familiar to you." Zangetsu was suddenly within arms reach, fixing him with hard yellow eyes. "Go get him, koneko. I'm not enough anymore."

Those words struck pain in his chest, a deep and bittersweet longing. He wasn't sure if that pang was his own or Kurosaki's, but it was clear that truth hurt Zangetsu more deeply than anything he'd seen in the hollow before.

Things had been bad before, really bad, but they had also been sudden. Grimmjow kept forgetting how long it had been. To him it felt like days, but for Kurosaki, it had been months. Months of isolation, doubt, desperation and self-loathing.

And now he had half of Kurosaki's soul. Half his power. Half of his heart.

Running his tongue over his lips, Grimmjow shifted and asked, "How do I do that?"

Zangetsu's shoulders fell in an exasperated sigh. "Focus on him." That was a blindingly vague direction. The hollow lifted his hand, palm hovering just before his nose. Grimmjow nearly went cross-eyed to keep his hand in sight. "Not on me. Focus on Ichigo."

Grimmjow swallowed, still unsure of what that meant.

"Close your eyes if you have to. If you're not focused this will just knock you out cold."

"This," Grimmjow repeated. "Kidou? I hate kidou."

"Excuses," Zangetsu hissed. "Try."

Grimmjow stopped leaning away from a black splayed palm, brows furrowed. He reluctantly closed his eyes. He knew Zangetsu wouldn't hurt him, but when Kurosaki was at stake, there was no telling what the hollow would do, and it made him justifiably nervous.

Focus on Kurosaki… He could smell him, especially when he was an inch from his nose. His hands always carried traces of steel and reishi and blood. He smelled dangerous. Dangerous and...expected. As if he knew the hybrid should be there.

He went deeper, remembering his hands around his throat, claws pressing into his arms. He remembered the soft press of his lips, and he remembered the pain. That soul-wrenching ache had never left, it was there, he just had to reach for it. It simmered below his skin and conscious thought, so he sank into it, accepted it, and then.

He was falling.

He gasped, jolting to find he was flat on his back, and it was no longer dark. Above him was an eclipse. Something dark blotted out the sun...was it a sun?

He didn't want to look anymore. Instead, he sat bolt upright, realizing where he was. The crumbling city beneath and around him was familiar, clouding over his senses with nostalgia. Even if he hadn't shared a soul with Kurosaki, this place had meaning to him. This is where he met Pantera, this is where he had to accept himself.

Now he had to do the same for Kurosaki. The suicidal bastard refused to ask for help, he didn't feel he deserved it.

Grimmjow didn't think it was up to him to decide what Kurosaki did or didn't deserve. He just knew what he wanted.

Standing at the edge of a ruined building he saw nothing around him but black sand and a fallen city. He couldn't sense Kurosaki, there was nothing to sense, his reiatsu was all around him.

Even if he didn't know where he was, that alone was a comfort. He'd missed that, and it no longer hung heavy around his shoulders, threatening to crush him. Now he stood among it and waded through it with no resistance. It almost felt welcoming.

With Kurosaki nowhere in sight, Grimmjow stepped into sonido, planting his feet in the middle of a bare expanse of sand. He sensed Alteza there, a slumbering giant beneath him, but it didn't react. He flared his reiatsu, blue energy whipping around him. Emotion he didn't intend to leak slipped into his power. How dare you. Don't ignore me. HERE I AM.

He waited, cloaked in his own power, and watched his surroundings for any sign of life. He saw a black cloaked figure first, perched in the distance, obscured by rippling heat. Then Kurosaki was simply there. He still moved shockingly fast, but he no longer flinched at the sudden sight of him. Perhaps he should, he shouldn't let himself slack, and Kurosaki was dangerous in every sense of the word.

But right now he just looked...shattered. Whatever hope Grimmjow had seen in the hybrid when he last saw him had faded fast. He had the look of someone lost, but it twisted into something manic, his hand suddenly around his throat.

There it was, the violence he'd come to expect. His palm was rough on his throat, tight enough to yank him in close, but not tight enough to strangle. He'd missed those hands. They weren't the hands of a warrior, they were the hands of a killer. But that wasn't all Kurosaki was; he was a complicated man. Kurosaki demanded, "Why are you here?"

Kurosaki's hand was cool on his skin, the prick of his claws not unpleasant. Grimmjow couldn't help but notice the hybrid's hands were shaking. Kurosaki truly hadn't expected him to come back. Grimmjow hissed, "To see you."

"Are you insane?" Kurosaki snarled.

Grimmjow's hand shot up at the accusation, curling around his throat, thumb pressing in hard beneath the hybrid's jaw. Any wise person would have never come back, but he couldn't shut down his longing, not for common sense or anything. "Are you?"

The hybrid dropped his hand and laughed, the sound more pain than humor, and Grimmjow realized that was a stupid question. Kurosaki was batshit on a good day, but it didn't change a thing.

"I know what I want," Grimmjow said.

"I hurt you," Kurosaki pressed. It was a statement born of past actions, but Grimmjow thought he meant it as a statement of fact. It was true. The hybrid got his claws in him and did what he pleased, choice was often just an illusion.

"I couldn't care less."

"Liar," Kurosaki accused.

Grimmjow grinned. It was a plain and filthy lie, one of the few he'd ever told, but it didn't change the fact that there was nowhere else he'd rather be. He reeled Kurosaki in for a kiss by his throat, his other hand clenching in a fistful of hair.

Kurosaki was as eager and pliant as he expected him to be, but it didn't make the wet slide of his tongue any less erotic. Kurosak let him lead, his jaws spreading, hot tongue slipping against his own with a soft groan.

Grimmjow did care what Kurosaki had done. He cared a lot, and he'd stopped wondering if it was Alteza urging him to act or his own damn feelings. He wanted to punish him for that, and Kurosaki wasn't making it any easier to deny that desire when the demigod wanted him to.

Moving his hand from his throat, he raked his claws over his collarbone and chest, disgustingly pleased to feel his skin split beneath his claws. His fingers dipped at the edge of his hollow hole and he tugged the rim, clawing the dark expanse in his chest. He felt a spike of satisfaction at the pained whimper he coaxed from Kurosaki.

The guilt and uncertainty he felt about that before was gone now. He didn't question why, or if it was a good or bad thing, it just was.

Grimmjow felt Zangetu's presence behind him before his felt clawed hands slip around his waist and chest. The hollow's chest pressed to his back, the cool edge of a horn resting against the side of his throat. It didn't feel like a threat, merely proximity and possession.

"Why are you holding back?" Zangetsu whispered. "Ichigo can take it."

A shiver raced up his arms and fizzed over his shoulders. He could, Grimmjow had seen firsthand the kind of abuse the hybrid took because it was necessary, but exploring what Kurosaki wanted out of pleasure was new and untread ground for them both.

When he didn't move, Kurosaki asked, "What do you want, Grimmjow?"

He wanted everything, and the sudden amount of choice stalled his thoughts. His hand tightened on his throat, but he couldn't choose one thing. This was a fantasy he'd had for a long time, but he never thought he'd actually have it.

Kurosaki's voice grew darker, slower, he felt the rumble of it beneath his palm. "What do you want to do to me?"

What did he want...to do to him.

Breath tangled in his throat, Grimmjow managed to growl a rough command. "On your knees."

With hardly any hesitation, Kurosaki's legs folded under him, kneeling in the sand at his feet. His grip on his throat was forced to loosen, tilting Kurosaki's head up to keep eye contact. Fuck...he actually did it. He had this demigod on his knees, willingly.

"Only for you, koneko," Zangetsu whispered. And the weight at his back vanished.

That's right, Kurosaki bent to no one. He never had and he never would; Nobody but him.

Lifting his thumb to Kurosaki's lower lip, he traced the curve, pulling his lips apart. No one else would ever see this, this sight belonged to him and no one else.

Amber eyes burned in the dark, locked on his own in expectation. That was a look he'd only seen in his fantasies. To be pinned by the attention of a predator, a demigod that let him do as he pleased.

He earned this, deserved it. Kurosaki had bled him, hurt him, used him, and changed him. He deserved this. Kurosaki was nervous. Zangetsu wouldn't be draped over him if he wasn't, but he was letting him have this.

Slipping his hand around to the back of Kurosaki's head, his hair bunched under his fingers, the edge of his horn touching his wrist. He pulled him towards his groin, and Kurosaki leaned forward with his guidance, pressing his nose to his crotch.

He was only half hard, but just the sight of Kurosaki's face up against his dick between his legs made him groan. The hybrid didn't wait to be told what to do next, he mouthed his cock through the fabric, every exhale heating his crotch. A haggard sigh rushed from his lips and Grimmjow held him down on his crotch, grinding against spread lips. "God, Kurosaki, stop fuckin' around and suck my dick."

Apparently that was all he had to say. Kurosaki lifted his hands to his pants jerking then low on his hips with little to no care. He held his cock in his hand, clumsily deciding where his fingers and claws curled best. His palm was rough on sensitive skin, it was almost painful when he pulled his hand over his cock from base to tip, curiously experimenting.

"You never had a dick in your hand before?"

Kurosaki's eyes flicked up to meet his, shockingly honest. "No."

"You jerked off though?"

Kurosaki's eyes fell, and he thought his question might have flustered him, but it was impossible to tell if he blushed. "Of course I did." He looked back at his dick with a combination of determination and fear. "Just not that much."

He probably wouldn't have been that motivated either, if his friends kept dying. "You really that scared?" Grimmjow asked. That kind of baffled him. Kid could take a cero to the face, but a dick? He looked ready to bolt.

"Not scared, not really."

"You look scared."

He frowned. "I'm nervous, I've never done this before."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Fine, trade. I'll suck your dick."

He started to move and Kurosaki's hands shot out for his hips, urging him to stay put. "I'll do it!"

"That makes it sound like a chore," Grimmjow grumbled.

Kurosaki shot him a scowl, eyes dark with lust and the threat of force. It sent a very real shiver up his spine, but not of fear.

The hybrid's hand returned to his shaft, albeit a little more confidently, and tightened, twisting slightly. Grimmjow's hand shot out for his head on reflex.

"Hurts?" Kurosaki asked.

"Yeah."

Kurosaki twisted his dry shaft again and Grimmjow's hand tightened on his hair with a sharp inhale. "Kurosaki." He wasn't sure if he was asking him to stop or continue, but from the look on Kurosaki's face, he was ignoring his requests.

Those amber eyes flared in the dark, pinning him with a look bound up in lust, daring him to stop him.

"You're trying to make me regret coming back." Those eyes narrowed in annoyance and it gave Grimmjow confidence. "Ain't gonna work."

Kurosaki leaned in and licked the head, a simple swipe of his tongue, but pleasure shot up his spine. It was less the sensation itself and more that he had a demigod on his knees with his hand around his dick. Seeing him lick his cock was nothing short of a fantasy until that moment.

"Even if," Kurosaki spoke slowly, "I want to hurt you."

"Yeah." That word was breathless and light, he didn't intend for it to be.

"You won't leave."

"Nah."

"Idiot," Kurosaki muttered. He felt hot breath over the head of his cock and it twitched, eager for more, but Grimmjow was still unwilling to take it. Kurosaki kissed the head, spreading his lips and swirling his tongue over the slit. It was softly pleasurable, and he startled him when his teeth grazed the sensitive head of his cock. He jolted, hands snapping up to grab his hair, surprised by the sudden discomfort.

Kurosaki twisted his cock in his palm, pulling off and over the sensitive head to squeeze back down his shaft. Pre beaded at the head of his cock and he bit back a moan.

"That turned you on?" Kurosaki asked.

"Fuck, I dunno. Why are you asking?"

"Doesn't seem comfortable."

"It's not."

Kurosaki looked back up at him, confused, and Grimmjow flushed, muttering, "I don't see you questioning why you get hard."

He blinked, then laughed, an honest to God laugh. "I guess not."

It felt good to see him laugh and really mean it. He couldn't even feel awkward about it. "This isn't how I saw this going."

He laughed harder, dick still in hand, and Grimmjow couldn't help but laugh too. They were fucking awful at this. Grimmjow sighed, "Well, are you gonna keep going?"

Kurosaki chuckled, and said, "I don't have to."

"Is that a threat?"

Kurosaki twisted his cock in hand and Grimmjow hissed. He lifted his thumb to the head, claw carefully pressing into the slit. His cock throbbed in muted pleasure, more pre welling from around a blackened claw. Amber eyes flicked up to meet his, "Breathe, Grimmjow."

He hadn't realized he'd stopped. He let out a strangled breath and said, "Careful."

"Or what?"

"You really want me to hurt you, don't you?"

Kurosaki pulled his thumb away, his claw dragging a painful line from the slit. "You finally want to."

Grimmjow thought he'd buried that desire, but apparently he hadn't. Kurosaki called him out, eager for it.

Kurosaki surprised him by taking more than half his cock into his mouth. It caught him off guard, his mouth was so hot and so wet. He faltered, hands grasping fistfuls of pitch black hair. Kurosaki looked up at him, his lips stretched around his dick, and Grimmjow let out the breath he'd been holding in a shuddering exhale. This was a man that could upend all of Hueco Mundo with a stray thought, and he chose to get on his knees and take his dick in his mouth.

He pressed his tongue up against the underside and sucked and oh God were those his claws? Kurosaki dragged a clawed finger over his taint and the underside of his balls, the sharp promise of pain making his neck prickle with anticipation. Kurosaki didn't claw him, but he cupped his balls in his palm then squeezed. Pain coiled in his belly and he forced the hybrid down on his cock. He held him down, nose flush to his belly, and Kurosaki's grip on his balls relaxed.

"Motherfucker," Grimmjow breathed. Kurosaki glowered up at him, but he still somehow managed to look smug with a dick down his throat. He was always good at getting what he wanted. He hated that insult, and now he could say nothing to stop him from using it. He couldn't say anything at all.

A shudder twisted up his spine, hands tight in his hair. Kurosaki was already struggling to breathe, but he refused to fight back. Tears pulled at the corners of the hybrid's eyes, and Grimmjow felt arousal crawl up his spine, unwelcome and unbidden, but it was there. Kurosaki was begging him with his eyes, he wanted it, they both wanted it.

Snarling a curse, Grimmjow tightened his hands in charcoal hair and pulled back, giving Kurosaki a short breath, before he slammed back into his throat, fucking his mouth with abandon. Kurosaki gagged, he felt his throat clench around his cock in a deliciously hot vice, instinctively trying to force him out.

Claws dug into the backs of his thighs, neither pushing him away or pulling him closer. Kurosaki couldn't breathe, he knew he couldn't, the wet squelch of his cock disgustingly erotic and loud as he fucked fast and hard. Kurosaki gagged again, claws digging deeper, and drool coated his cock, tears shining on the bold markings streaking his face. He was just...taking it.

The desperate look in his eyes hadn't faded, if anything it had deepened; through tears and discomfort, Kurosaki looked up at him like he was everything. Then he moaned, the sound vibrating up through his cock in a jolt of dizzying pleasure. He wasn't going to last, and he didn't think Kurosaki could take any longer without breath.

Ramming his cock in deep, he shuddered and came, Kurosaki's throat clamping down around his shaft like a vice. Claws tight on Kurosaki's hair, he held him down, nose flush to his groin, forcing him to stay down. His cock throbbed with his orgasm, stroked by Kurosaki's struggle for air. It was wet and tight and hot and he felt a sadistic thrill that his pleasure cost him any sort of discomfort.

That thought needled his conscience, even as Kurosaki's struggle weakened. He was once again impressed by Kurosaki's strength of will. He stopped his own instincts from a desperate fight to breathe. Forcing him to stop would have been so easy. Kurosaki let it happen.

Grimmjow's grip on his hair eased out of his death grip and he pulled Kurosaki off. The hybrid caught himself on his hands, coughing and panting. He stayed like that, breathing hard, hair sliding over his shoulders to pool on the ground. Grimmjow crouched next to him and lifted his hand to his face, his skin hot to the touch and damp with sweat. He urged him to raise his head and pressed his forehead to his.

He waited for Kurosaki to catch his breath, and short moments passed before the hybrid tilted his head back to kiss him, soft and gentle. His lips were wet and hot and bitter and perfect. Kurosaki's arms wrapped around his back, iron caging him against a hollow chest. Kurosaki let slip a soft moan between the wet slide of their tongues.

Tightening his hands on his shoulders, Grimmjow, forcing theirs lips to part only for them to crash together when he flattened him to the ground. Kurosaki's legs wrapped around the back of his thighs, pulling him close.

Flush against him, Grimmjow could feel how aroused he was, his cock catching the rim of his hollow hole. Grimmjow's breath stopped, a deep agony flooding his soul. He thought Kurosaki noticed the hitch in panting breath, because his hips rose in a serpentine wave, his muscles flexing beneath his hand, and forced his cock up against his hollow hole again.

Grimmjow's hands found his throat, squeezing hard in protest. Was it protest, or did he simply want an excuse to punish him? Grimmjow stifled his gasp for breath in a kiss, tasting his desperation, and it sweetened the bitter taste of his mouth in a dreadfully delicious way. Kurosaki needed that breath and he stole it. He might be a thief but Kurosaki begged him to take it, so maybe it wasn't theft, but a morbid gift.

He forced himself to be selfish and stilled, hands still clenched around Kurosaki's throat. He felt his throat move beneath his hands when he swallowed, finding that oddly arousing. He got what he wanted, Kurosaki was giving him everything, but he wasn't done. "Are you going to tell me why you're here, why you gave up?"

"I didn't give up."

"Didn't you? You're here, hiding." Kurosaki didn't deny that, shame forcing his gaze elsewhere. He'd never seen someone with so much power hate it so much.

"I'm sorr-"

He squeezed his throat, lifting him up just to slam him down into the sand. "No more apologies!" His voice broke over the pain he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. "Where's the demigod I fell in love with? The man that can bring all of Hueco Mundo to its knees."

Kurosaki struggled to speak around his grip. "I don't want to be that person."

"You are!"

"I'm tired of it."

Grimmjow shouted back, baring sharpened teeth. "I'm tired of being used, of never being good enough for you!"

"You're not-"

"Shut up," Grimmjow growled. He squeezed harder, forcing him into silence. Bright yellow eyes narrowed in apology and an emotion he didn't feel comfortable calling regret. "Don't you dare leave me alone. You don't get to do this to me and give up!"

Kurosaki took it, long enough that la sangre flickered between both of them, defensive of their host, but uncertain if Grimmjow was a threat. He had to wonder what would happen if he strangled him to death in his own mind. Was it even possible? Could he actually kill him?

That possibility was cut short when Kurosaki flared his reiatsu and actually used it against him. It was chaotic, a wildfire that raged around them and weighed heavy on his shoulders. Those yellow eyes burned into his own before his vision was obscured by dark reiatsu.

Jolting awake again, he was surprised to find he was back in the real world...no that wasn't right. Above him in the dark, things he shouldn't be allowed to see writhed, and a gentle throbbing heart quaked in the sand at his back.

Kurosaki's reiatsu was still there, blanketing him in power, and to his relief and dismay, so was his hard on.

Head rolling back to get a better look, Kurosaki stood just behind him. It was him, not his hollow; he was confident in his own power, it showed in his posture, but he still arched forward, head low, watching. There it was, the predator he knew and remembered.

Grimmjow rolled over and stood, realizing he could. He got his feet beneath him and straightened, nose to nose with Kurosaki. He never remembered being taller, but it was the first time he hadn't felt small. This was all of Kurosaki's power, but he was standing, he could breathe. The situation was finally equal.

Kurosaki smiled, but it was more out of a sense of relief than happiness. "I wasn't actually sure."

"If you gave me a chunk of your power or not?" He raised his own power, snarling, "Goddamn you for that. I didn't earn this."

"I know...if ever I wanted you and my soul to be safe, I can't think of a better way to do it."

"You take."

"I do," Kurosaki nodded slowly, fucker wouldn't even argue. Grimmjow was angry, he wanted to fight.

"I don't know if I want to hit you, fuck you, or try to kill you."

Brows tightening in curiosity, Kurosaki asked, "Do you want to kill me?"

"No dipshit, I just want to hurt you." He remembered the wet shine of his bone, the soft give of his cheek, and it fascinated and disgusted him that he wanted to feel it again. He'd taken his rage out on plenty a hollow, but it wasn't the same; he wanted to know he'd struck a God, a God with the audacity to play with his heart.

Kurosaki goaded, "So do it."

He lashed out with his claws, raking them through the ridge of his brow, his nose, and his eye, ruining his face. Kurosaki made a gutted sound, swaying with his claws, but he just took it, blood spilling from fresh wounds to marr his skin like tears. It healed too quickly, frustrated that he carried a scar with him he could never return. He was cursed to be Kurosaki's trophy, always receiving, but never giving. He struck him again, his claws slicing ribbons through his throat. Kurosaki coughed, blood seeping from clenched teeth and bloody stripes, gushing hot and sticky to drench the hem of his kosode. His throat healed fast, but his voice was still hoarse when he spoke. "Why are you frustrated?"

"I could claw you to ribbons for days, but you'd still be the same." He shrugged and reached for his cheek, smearing cooling blood across his face. "Bloodier, stickier, but the same."

Kurosaki leaned into his hand. "You want to do something permanent?"

"Yes."

That didn't seem to surprise Kurosaki. His eyes drifted to the scar across his chest, then back to his eyes, thoughtful. "Shinigami could do it."

The name sank into his guts like poison. He never thought he'd ever feel fear so gut wrenching, but it sat with him as deeply as Pantera. Kurosaki wasn't lying, he was giving him a choice, and that choice would willingly subject Kurosaki to the monster that had killed him. It was an obscene request, given how it had to be made, but he couldn't abandon the thought.

Reaching for Kurosaki's hand, he leaned in, licking the blood from his face. It was gross, sticky and metallic, but his instincts jumped at the opportunity to get a taste of such a strong soul. He tasted more than blood, he tasted the monsters inside him, his reiatsu, his life. He stood close, guiding Kurosaki's hand to his crotch. The hybrid took that cue in stride, splaying his fingers around his clothed cock to press his palm to the growing bulge in his pants. Seemed like what happened in his inner world didn't necessarily stay in his inner world.

Kurosaki rubbed, fingers parting around the width, and squeezed gently. He closed his eyes, as good as submitting to his whims and asked, "You think you haven't changed me?"

Grimmjow lifted his hands to the sides of his face, la sangre devouring the blood he'd missed. He hummed, the sound snagging on a moan when Kurosaki's hand rubbed just the right way. "You're crazier, but that isn't my fault."

Kurosaki whispered, "Then you have a bad memory. You're showing me how to trust again."

"You changed out of necessity," Grimmjow hissed, "You needed someone and I was the closest punching bag."

The hybrid's claws teased his skin through fabric, tightening in anger, and Kurosaki leaned closer. "You were the first person in years that I wanted to touch me."

That was a strong reminder, and something he'd quickly begin to take for granted. Kurosaki could tolerate touch, but more often than not, it left the person who tried with a broken hand. Grimmjow knew he could touch and then some; Kurosaki wasn't any more docile than usual, his aggression simply fell to the back drop and he allowed Grimmjow to do as he pleased.

"Not all of those changes I supposedly made were for the better," Grimmjow said.

"I never said it was better, or worse, just that you'd done it at all." The hybrid tilted his head back and kissed him, the contact soft and brief. He smirked. "I don't usually like things that are good for me."

"No shit," Grimmjow growled.

Kurosaki pulled from his hands to kiss his throat, the point of a horn pressing into his sternum hard enough to draw blood. His voice rumbled against his skin and sent shivers down his spine to pool in his groin. "What do you want to do to me?"

Grimmjow had to swallow to find his voice, his hands falling to Kurosaki's ass. His weapons were in the way, so he disarmed the hybrid without asking, the massive cleaver hitting the sand with a loud thud. Kurosaki's only reaction was to tease his throat with his teeth. "You would let me?"

"Grimmjow," he chided, his voice a sultry purr when his voice was hindered by the column of his throat, "I was ready to let you kill me."

The hybrid wasn't lying, the admission went straight to his cock. Fingers curling around the globes of his ass, he jerked him in close, smashing their hips together hard enough that Kurosaki couldn't easily move his arm. "I want your throat," Grimmjow whispered, voice as brusque as his hands kneading taut muscle. Kurosaki's claim on him dyed his soul black, it was so obvious, but it would be impossible to ignore the implications behind a bite to Kurosaki's throat; The hybrid gave him his life. It was his, and no one would be able to contest it.

He didn't know who would give a shit or be stupid enough to argue, but it appeased the unsettled churn of his thoughts and soul; he wanted something real.

He readjusted, one hand pulling him close by the small of his back.

He called la sangre to take them someplace that was both familiar and awful and new. It crawled over and around them both, dropping them onto crushed grass and sweet flowers,

Kurosaki pulled back, panting, "You didn't-"

"No, Kurosaki, I didn't." He caught his lips in another kiss and said, "Different field, I'm not going to let that fuck ruin everything." He refused to let Shinigami taint one of the few happy memories he'd ever made.

Kurosaki's eyes strayed to his surroundings, reassuring himself his nightmares weren't real. Grimmjow said, "Forget the field, forget that fuck Shinigami, look at me."

-xxx-

Kurosaki Ichigo

Look at me. That order rang like a plea, a demand of a mortal overlooked by Gods for too long. Ichigo lifted his hands to his face, claws tracing the teeth of his mask. "I see you." He was looking, facing all of Grimmjow's regrets and insecurities. He shouldn't be alive at all. Relatively. The arrancar was a survivor, and Ichigo kept dragging him down into hell.

Grimmjow lifted his hand to his head, tightening his fist in his hair. It didn't hurt, but it forced him to bare his throat, the instinct to guard himself no less severe than if he'd been in a fight. He didn't want that feeling, not around Grimmjow, not when he was asking so little.

Ichigo's grip tightened around his mask, so he dropped his hands in case he clung to him too hard, fisting them in Grimmjow's jacket.

Strong hips pressed down into him and he moaned. Grimmjow growled, "Zangetsu," and leaned back off of him, pulling him up off the grass with a fist in his kosode. His hollow materialized at his back, taking his wrists in his hands, and pulled Ichigo back into his lap.

Ichigo questioned Grimmjow with a look, and the hollow answered smoothly, "I'm still not sure you aren't going to claw me to ribbons."

Ichigo let out a breathy laugh. "Don't trust me?"

Blue eyes met his with intensity and lust reserved for him. "I don't want you to hold back. Not on my account."

"Oh."

Strong hands smoothed over his sides then tugged at the sash around his waist. "One day you'll get there…" Ichigo made a sound that surprised him when Grimmjow's hand brushed over his erection. Ichigo lifted his hips to meet his hand, and Grimmjow obliged, smoothing his palm over his clothed erection. Ichigo moaned, hips lurching up into his touch and Grimmjow said, "Yeah, today isn't that day."

Tugging Ichigo's pants low on his hips, he traced jagged black markings down his hips to his crotch, his cock an angry red.

Zangetsu took the opportunity to hook his legs over Ichigo's, forcing him to spread them wide. Ichigo worried his lower lip, eyes locked on him nervously, both embarrassed and seeking some kind of approval. Dark lines traced a perfect body, curling over his hips and cutting a sharpened edge towards his groin in a masculine arrow. Grimmjow tongue flicked the head and Ichigo hissed, muscles tensing in a wave of pleasure. He was so aroused, it bobbed under his touch, precum oozing from the slit. "Look at you," Grimmjow whispered.

Ichigo's eyes were downcast, so Grimmjow caught his chin, demanding his attention. "What do you have to be embarrassed over?"

Ichigo fought his touch, muscles tensing in response, and chanced meeting his eyes. Grimmjow thought he saw shame there, and that wasn't right. "Why are you so afraid for me to look at you?" He kissed him, and Ichigo eagerly returned it, lips wet and slipping against his own, but he didn't answer, so Grimmjow glanced over his shoulder at Zangetsu.

His hollow answered, "The parts of his soul he didn't trade to Alteza, he gave to you."

Gave it to him. A gift, an ultimate sacrifice.

"That's why you look different," Grimmjow murmured. "You did this for me, why would you be ashamed to show me this?"

"You hate it," Ichigo whispered the words, his face hidden, save for the grimace marring his face. He couldn't count how many times Grimmjow voiced his hatred for Alteza, or his hatred over the way the Gods changed him and twisted his feelings.

Grimmjow growled, taking his balls in his hand to squeeze. His fingers dug into sensitive flesh, claws prickling like needles. Pain coiled in his belly along with pleasure, legs trembling against the urge to snap them shut. Ichigo made a sound not unlike a whimper and Grimmjow leaned in close, growling, "I hate what Alteza does to you, but I don't hate you."

He didn't hate him. Relief flushed the doubt from his veins and let out a haggard sigh, dropping his arms to look up at him. It wasn't a pretty lie, it was the truth, there was no hate in Grimmjow's eyes, no matter how much he wished he'd find it, it was never there.

Rationally, he doubted Grimmjow would be anywhere near him if hate was the primary emotion he felt for him. He knew that, but he still had his doubts. Inoue had cared for him once too, and her feelings had changed. People used to be drawn to him, but he'd changed too. He didn't expect people to like him, let alone want him.

Maybe what he felt wasn't relief, but acceptance. He was wanted.

-xxx-

Grimmjow

The look Kurosaki gave him sank into his heart in a mess of frothing pity. The hybrid had doubted him so much. It pissed him off just as much as it hurt. He rolled his balls in his hand, his grip punishing, claws digging into delicate flesh. Kurosaki grunted in pain, teeth clenched, but he didn't look away again. Grimmjow hissed, "Don't confuse the two."

"I hate it."

Grimmjow insisted, "I don't. That's enough."

"Is it?"

The question sounded so softly genuine. Grimmjow looked up at him, not allowing Ichigo to second guess himself. "You traded a lot to get me back." He traced the thickened edge of a sharp stripe along his inner thigh. "I can't help but feel some pride in the proof. This is my fault. Mine." His voice fell, possessive and greedy.

"That's fucked up," Kurosaki breathed. His tone wasn't genuine, and if he could tease, that meant he was thinking about it, he was taking him seriously.

He loosened his grip on his balls and Kurosaki let out a shuddering exhale, collapsing back against Zangetsu's chest. Kurosaki's hair splayed out over pale skin in rivers that looked like blood. His own or the blood of an uncaring God, it stirred feelings in his heart.

Replacing pain with pleasure, he returned his hand to his cock, just as stiff now as it has been before the abuse. Gentle by Kurosaki's standards, but it was proof he enjoyed it. Dragging his palm over his shaft up to the head, he wrung a tense gasp from the hybrid, his grip dry and rough. "I love you, Ichigo. I never stopped."

Pain shone in Kurosaki's eyes, and Grimmjow leaned in, voice soft. "You destroyed yourself to have me, for yourself. Finally selfish." His hand left his cock, thumb tracing the rim of his hollow hole, the border along warm skin and a cold void. "Don't tell me you didn't have fantasies of what you'd do when you finally got me back?"

Zangetsu spoke in Kurosaki's place. "You think his fantasies were limited to bringing you back?"

"Stop," Kurosaki sounded desperate.

Shifting his gaze to Zangetsu, Grimmjow prodded the hollow to continue with a look, but when he spoke, it was for Kurosaki. "You think I don't have my own fantasies? You think you'll scare me off? Now?"

When Kurosaki didn't answer, he dug his fingers into his hollow hole and looked back down at him. The hybrid was arched, teeth clenched, and Grimmjow decided he liked seeing him in pain. He watched the way his claws depressed the cold, dark edge of his hollow hole, the way Kurosaki's muscles drew taut in response.

Zangetsu said, "He thought about touching your corpse. A lot."

Shame flushed Kurosaki's cheeks, and Grimmjow leaned down to kiss him, twisting their tongues together, scraping along his teeth. He had his own thoughts and fantasies, but no power to act on them. Would he have followed through if he could? Now, he might.

Licking his lower lip as he pulled away, he asked, "Did you want to kiss me like that?"

"I didn't," he whispered. Grimmjow wasn't sure if he was denying that he'd done it or that he'd wanted to.

Grimmjow lifted his hand to his horn, palm clenched tightly around it, and pushed his head back. He felt blood well in his palm, lessening his grip, and he growled, "You've done worse, not like I'd have felt it."

"It's wrong."

Grimmjow ignored him, "You let that thing hollow me out. You helped."

The agony in Kurosaki's eyes almost made him stop. His voice was soft, but he read his lips and knew the words. "I'm sorry."

"You're not," Grimmjow said flatly, "You'd do it again." Kurosaki didn't give him an answer, and he knew he was right. He traced a line along Ichigo's neck, with a claw, blood welling in its wake, down towards his chest, tracing a nightmare he was so certain was real.

Kurosaki caught his hand, chest heaving, and locked eyes on him in confusion. "How?"

Grimmjow stared at him, not having been sure until that moment it was all real. "Nightmares. Don't feel like mine, figured they were yours." He traced another line between the tense muscle over his ribs and Kurosaki went rigid, fighting Zangetsu's hold, and that he moved at all was evidence the sword was considering letting him. "Seems like they are."

It was probably cruel to do this to him, but if they were going to air all their dirty laundry, might as well get it all out there at once. "I remember me. We fought, I beat your ass," he lifted his hand to the scar on his chest. "You gave me this."

It didn't seem like Kurosaki was breathing. His eyes widened in shock, but they were searching, hopeful for someone who was dead.

"Dammit, Kurosaki, I'm not him, I don't even know if I'm me." His voice felt thin as he spoke, not having realized how hard it would be to admit that aloud. "Do you understand?"

Expression softening with guilt, Kurosaki said, "Of course I do."

And he would. With all the voices in his head and impressions of past hosts, it was a miracle he remembered his own goddamn name. Grimmjow emphasized. "I'm not him."

"You're right," Kurosaki said. "I didn't love him. I love you."

Grimmjow found he'd crushed Kurosaki's lips in a kiss. It felt good to be wanted by even one fucking person in the entire god forsaken world. Not anyone. Ichigo Kurosaki.

The demigod didn't love a ghost, or a lie. He loved him. In his own fucked up way.

His kiss grew deeper, hands roaming over his chest and under fabric to expose the hollow in his chest. To his surprise, Zangetsu helped him in his quest to strip Kurosaki. The hollow let go of his hands only to pull his armor and kosode off in one sharp motion. Kurosaki was eager to touch, hands snapping out for him, but Zangetsu stopped him short with strong unyielding hands on his wrists.

A growl of annoyance buzzed beneath his palms, a quiet reminder that Kurosaki wasn't weak, and pissing him off was dangerous. He loved the threat as much as the knowledge his own hollow held him back. So much power held back for his sake. The rolling tension in hardened muscle beneath his hands was exhilarating.

He answered that growl with one of his own, biting his tongue in a forceful kiss. His mask scraped up against his cheek, the point of a horn biting into his skin, but he still wasn't close enough. Kurosaki kissed back just as eagerly, so he pulled back, denying him.

Grimmjow sank low between his knees, and with trailing fingertips, shifted his grip to his shaft. He traced the thin arrow of dark markings along his hip with his tongue, kissing and sucking his skin. The texture was the same, he realized, but his skin was somewhat colder along the markings. Or maybe he was imagining it?

The sigh that fell from Kurosaki's lips sounded pained, eyes squeezed shut. Grimmjow followed the taut line of his neck up towards his jaw, memorizing the way his jaw bunched in tension. His fingers came to rest over the side of his neck, scrunching hair beneath the slide of his fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Well I'm really fucking hard, for one."

Grimmjow smirked. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So do something!" Kurosaki snapped.

"What's the other problem?" Grimmjow asked instead. He noticed the hybrid eased when he was talking, even if it was slight.

Zangetsu shifted behind Kurosaki, almost nuzzling against his neck. "He's afraid."

Brows furrowing, Grimmjow hesitated. "Of me?" The second he asked, he realized that was way off. "Oh." He'd understood on a surface level before, he wasn't too keen on touch either, but now he had insight into the problem.

Reaching out for his chin, he demanded his attention. "It's just me. Close your eyes like that and you might forget." He didn't say it to mock him, he understood. A few nightmares later, and he knew exactly how fucked Kurosaki was. Fucked up, but healing. If he wasn't gentle in some regards, he could rip apart that progress on accident.

Brows scrunched in concentration, Kurosaki seemed to make an effort to try. Grimmjow drew his hand back and said, "I'm vain. I want you to watch."

A curious blush lit up his cheeks, from what little skin wasn't striped with markings. "Just do something," Kurosaki growled.

Grimmjow smirked. He wanted to do a lot of somethings, and he was slowly uncovering Kurosaki's tolerance for those somethings.

Grimmjow glanced to Zangetsu, up until now a mostly silent spectator, and wondered if he could get him to participate. "You can't hurt each other, right?"

Zangetsu stared steadily back at him, and he took that to be a yes. Grimmjow held up a clawed hand as if he needed to explain himself and said, "Not exactly good for fingering."

Kurosaki looked more than a little flustered. He made an indignant sound. "But he's my hollow!"

"Would you rather I left, explain the situation to Kisuke, then ask how I should-"

"God, stop," he groaned. "When I told you to hurt me, this isn't what I meant."

"Yeah, I'll do it," Zangetsu chimed in.

Kurosaki looked absolutely betrayed. "But you're me."

"So I'll know exactly what to do," Zangetsu purred. That blush extended to Kurosaki's neck and chest, as if his hollows words implied more than he'd spoken, and maybe they had. The hollow muttered some shit Grimmjow understood to be Kidou, locking his wielders arms to his sides with bars of shivering light.

"If that blows up in my face," Grimmjow warned. "I'm going to be really pissed off."

A look of reluctant dismay crossed Kurosaki's face. "It probably won't, Zangetsu is better with Kidou than I am."

Zangetsu scoffed. "Then don't fight that hard, just enjoy it, Ichigo." He bit the shell of his ear and the look on Kurosaki's face shifted rapidly into humiliated arousal. Grimmjow wasn't sure if that was because the hollow had used his name, because of the promise of what he would do, or a combination, but he loved the anticipation tying Kurosaki into knots.

"Switch," Zangetsu ordered. Grimmjow raised a brow, but saw no reason not to comply. Besides, he never got to be at Kurosaki's back. Not like this.

The pair traded places and Grimmjow settled behind the hybrid, wrapping his arms around his chest to tug him back into his lap. Kurosaki's chest rose and fell with heavy, quick breaths, and Grimmjow splayed his hands over hot skin, carefully avoiding his hollow hole for the moment. "Relax, it's just me."

Zangetsu didn't waste any time, hooking his hand under Kurosaki's left knee to push it up to his chest, completely exposing him. "Hold him." Grimmjow's hand replaced Zangetsu's, his cheek flush to the side of his neck. His abs rippled down to his erect cock, shockingly, after all that, still just as hard. Kurosaki got a little more nervous, so Grimmjow reached around broad shoulders and grabbed his cock. Kurosaki sucked in a sharp breath, muscles flexing against his Kidou prison.

Squeezing, his grip was rough and dry, the tense race of Kurosaki's breath definitely one mostly of pain, then pleasure. He pulled up, squeezing pre from the slit. The pulse against his palm was just as jilted as his breath, and he found his own raced to match it.

Zangetsu wasn't idle, and neither was his mouth. The hollow spilled precious secrets and desires Kurosaki's pride would never let him speak. "Like that, don't you? You were always such a pain slut, could never just enjoy something." Zangetu licked clawed fingers, his tongue curling around both digits, sucking, deeper, slower-Grimmjow realized Zangetsu's eyes were on him, not Kurosaki. That was all for him.

He swallowed, watching Zangetsu slowly pull his fingers from his lips, a line of drool trailing from them. Grimmjow made a sound he didn't realize he'd made, his grip on Kurosaki's cock suddenly hard enough to draw a grunt of pain from the hybrid. He hadn't realized he'd done that, but now that he had, he liked it. He started to slowly jerk him off, feeling the muscles in Kurosaki's jaw tighten as he grit his teeth.

Grimmjow let out a heavy breath and muttered in awe. "You're so hard...probably hurts." The answering growl was laced with a whine, which was plenty of confirmation.

Bracing himself on his wielder's thigh, Zangetsu reached up under his balls and the hybrid's whole body flexed and writhed. Grimmjow wasn't at the right angle to watch, he could only guess he'd jammed a finger in just from Kurosaki's reaction. Grimmjow asked, "You're sure you're not hurting him?"

Zangetsu's arms flexed and moved as he stretched his wielder, eyes flicking up to Grimmjow's in dry disappointment. "My claws can't rend, but his ass still has to stretch around my fingers." He shrugged. "Even if they did, he'd heal in seconds."

The expression the hollow shared with him was daring, and Grimmjow swallowed thickly under such a direct insinuation. Zangetsu was right, he could have absolutely tortured the hybrid, but...no… he wouldn't. Kurosaki's trust was already thin, there were some things that were too selfish.

Zangetsu seemed pleased with the conclusions he'd drawn, a small smirk turning up his lips. The expression seemed too cocky to be Kurosaki, but still seemed at home on his features. "So, koneko, how tight do you want him?"

Kurosaki bit his lip, and Grimmjow's cheeks flared red, not having anticipated the question. He knew how to fight, not how to fuck; it wasn't really part of the job description of being an arrancar. The instincts were all there, but he'd never been able to use them, not with any measure of trust. He could have always taken another by force, he supposed, but he had little interest in temporary satisfaction and a warm body.

The silence seemed to be answer enough for Zangetsu. The hollow leaned in, kissing his other self straight on the lips. Kurosaki recoiled, then returned it, the proximity from the outside looking in going straight to Grimmjow's dick. The wet clash of their mouths should have been off-putting, he thought, but he was only reminded of the suction of his mouth on his cock and the jolting brush of teeth.

Zangetsu pulled back and hummed. "He can take a lot of pain. Do you want to hurt him?"

Grimmjow felt the way he shook, and he knew Kurosaki would give him whatever he wanted. "No." He teased his neck with the pinch of sharpened canines and said, "Always figured you'd have a tight ass with the fuckin' stress you're under." He lifted his hand to his chest, squeezing and twisting a nipple. Kurosaki groaned, but his cock throbbed in his hand. Fucker really liked that. "I just want him to feel good."

Zangetsu muttered, "Easy enough." Tendons flexing in his leg, Kurosaki tried to curl into himself when Zangetsu shoved in another finger. Grimmjow distracted him with more pain, pulling the rim of his hollow hole. Kurosaki belted a shout, tugging at his binds. Grimmjow had the feeling Kurosaki could shatter them if he felt like it, but he was choosing to remain a captured mouse.

That comparison seemed unfair. He was a predator lured into a honey trap, caught between a rock and a hard place. Or rather, his hollow and a jaded arrancar. Grimmjow dropped his nose to his throat, breathing deep, mapping where he wanted to bite. "What's it like, kissing yourself?"

Kurosaki breathed, "Weird."

Chuckling, Grimmjow wrung his cock, pulling a long, deep moan from the hybrid. Seemed an apt answer, he wasn't sure if he was vain enough to kiss himself, but the answer was probably yes.

Zangetsu was slowing, thrusting deeper and holding his fingers in longer. The hollow said, "He's good and ready, but spit didn't go very far."

Grimmjow looked down at Zangetsu. "I'm not fucking him dry."

"He'd thank you."

Grimmjow snarled, "He'd thank me if I ripped his guts out."

Kurosaki managed to string together a sentence. "Don't talk...like I'm not here."

"Your lack of self preservation is astounding, I ain't that interested in your opinion," Grimmjow growled.

The hybrid groaned breathlessly, "Rude." He canted his head downward, brushing the top of Grimmjow's head with a horn, and through some level of silent communication, Zangetsu appeared to agree to something. The hollow withdrew his hand, and Kurosaki sent him away with la sangre.

Okay, he hadn't expected that. "Where did you send him?"

Kurosaki's head fell back, eyes closed. "To run an errand."

As soon as he said it, Zangetsu was back, a disgusted look on his face, but in his hand was a bottle. Grimmjow snorted. "Did you really send your hollow to get lube?"

Kurosaki twisted in his binds and snarled. "I want you to fuck me, of course I did."

Humor aside, the demand went straight to his cock, heat flushing his veins with sudden desire. It was there before, but now he wanted it so badly he had to wonder why he'd been fucking around in Hueco Mundo when Kurosaki was waiting and willing the whole damn time. "Abusing your god-like abilities to steal lube. Incredible," he teased. "Who the fuck did you steal it from?"

"If I think about it, I'm not gonna be hard any-ahhhhhh." Zangetsu cut off his train of thought by shoving newly lubed up fingers back up his ass. "Cold," Kurosaki complained.

Grimmjow's hand left his cock to silently ask for lube. "He fingered you dry and you're worried about cold lube?"

Zangetsu took the black bottle and dumped some in his hand, then abandoned it on the grass.

Kurosaki groaned, "God, just shut up and fuck me."

"Needy bitch," Grimmjow growled. He dropped his leg and readjusted so he could mess around with his pants. He didn't need them off, he just needed his dick out. He leaned his shoulder up against Kurosaki's back, managing to loosen the belt and jerk his pants lower with one hand. While he got his dick good and wet, he wondered if Kurosaki would follow an order.

He turned his head and bit his shoulder, getting his attention. "You want me to fuck you so bad...head down, ass up."

Kurosaki turned his head to look at him, and Grimmjow couldn't read what was going on behind those eyes. He expected a resounding no, but to his shock, Kurosaki moved to do it. The hybrid leaned forward to get his legs under himself, and Zangetsu pulled back to give him space.

Slowly, Kurosaki bent forward, dark hair spilling over his sides to bare a broad, tightly muscled back. Those markings crawled over his skin, settled between the valleys and planes of muscle in broad strokes, screaming 'danger' to anyone stupid enough to get close. Grimmjow wanted to touch, but he was too transfixed to even know where to start.

Kurosaki folded his legs under him, and with an eerie amount of natural grace, doubled over to press his chest to crushed grass. His sides heaved like a trapped animal. It was such a simple thing to ask, but it so clearly scared him.

It took him a minute, but he lifted his hips, giving Grimmjow an unhindered look at his ass. He could smell Kurosaki's arousal and humiliation, yet he did it for him anyway. Grimmjow bit back a needy whine, certain it would ruin that air of control he was so desperately faking.

Kurosaki spread muscled legs, shifting his knees further apart on the grass. Grimmjow got a good look at his hole in this position, reaching to brush his thumb over it. It fluttered under his touch, and Kurosaki made a sound, startled. "Relax, Kurosaki." He spread his palm over his ass, digging his thumb into the cleft of it to spread his cheeks. His balls were drawn up tight to his body and his cock was dripping precum. He was painfully aroused, but he was also scared. Leaned forward to kiss and nip his ass, he murmured, "Good boy."

Kurosaki's whole body sagged with a sigh, and Grimmjow offered a suggestion to Zangetsu, who seemed to be content to watch. "Put his head in your lap."

"I don't take orders from you, koneko."

Grimmjow ignored that and said, "You keep him calm."

The hollow didn't argue that, resituating them both so Kurosaki's head was in his lap. Only then did Grimmjow move, Pressing his now slick cock up against his ass. He hissed through his teeth when he leaned over him, cock sliding over his hole and across heated skin.

Zangetsu made a disapproving sound. "At least get your dick in him before you cum."

"I ain't used to this, fuck you."

"You already are, I feel that shit too. Stick it in him."

Kurosaki's shook with a laugh. "You both can't be serious."

Laughter was better than being scared, Grimmjow decided he'd take it. "Fuck you too, you feel nice."

Grimmjow raked his claws down over his back, skipping his hollow hole to dig a clawed thumb into the rim. Kurosaki groaned, and he used the distraction to pull his hips back and press the head of his cock inside. He groaned loudly and froze, Kurosaki's hole clenching around him like a vice. They were both breathing hard, panting at the sudden sensation. It was an intense experience for his first time sticking his dick in anyone. He was so soft and so hot, it bordered on painful. His cock pulsed in his guts, so close to cumming and he'd barely done anything. He couldn't imagine moving like this, it was so much more than using his hand, and somehow tighter than Kurosaki's throat.

He pushed a little deeper, their groans clashing, loudly and terribly.

Zangetsu brushed the hair from Kurosaki's face, pulling it from his mouth to sweep over his shoulder. "Tell him how good his cock feels."

"Embarrassing," Kurosaki panted.

Grimmjow thrust his hips forward the rest of the way, jolting a breathless cry from Kurosaki, along with his own moan. "Fuck! You're so much tighter than I thought you'd be." He panted, holding very still. "Does that hurt?"

"Y-yeah," Kurosaki spoke through clenched teeth, body trembling beneath his hands, but he still seemed to like it. For a long few minutes, neither of them moved, but then Kurosaki spoke. "Thought about fucking you a lot...didn't think about you fucking me that much."

Grimmjow wasn't sure if that admission made him feel anything positive or negative, he was still trying to bring his high down so he could get to the fucking part without cumming immediately, and wouldn't that be disappointing.

Kurosaki kept talking. "Didn't think about it, didn't realize I'd feel you. Can feel you in me."

Grimmjow huffed a laugh. "I mean, being in you is a huge part of fucking you."

"Asshole," he groaned.

Grimmjow smoothed his hand over his lower back, palm pressed flat over the lines of dark markings just beneath Kurosaki's bound hands. His breath still fell in tight pants, but Kurosaki's sides heaved in a way he'd never seen before, let alone felt. "Nah I get it. Never thought I'd get to fuck a God," he chuckled, breathless. "Feels damn good."

"I'm not a God," Kurosaki grumbled.

"Fine then. Demigod. Godling, deity, hero, villain; I've got a lot of names to choose from."

"Ichigo," he said. "Call me Ichigo."

Ichigo. Grimmjow bent over him, hands smoothing over bared ribs, and felt Kurosaki tremble. He moved his hips back with a hiss, then slammed home, pleasure streaking up his spine. He dug his claws in hard enough to draw blood, Kurosaki's breath knocked from him with that one hard thrust. "You're mine this time, Ichigo."

Just saying his name earned him a throaty moan and a small wiggle of hips. He wasn't used to hearing himself say it, nor was he used to hearing the pleasure softening his voice and dragging it until it was rough and broken.

He started shallowly rocking his hips, a gentler pace than he thought he would be able to manage, but he wanted to find his prostate, he wanted to ruin him before he ruined himself.

It really was luck that he managed to hit the right spot at all, Kurosaki's hips flinching forward with a gasp. He thrust a little harder, and Kurosaki made a gutted sound, arms straining against the Kidou. Zangetsu leaned forward, strengthening the Kidou with a touch, but he didn't interrupt.

Withdrawing almost completely, Grimmjow started thrusting hard and fast, feeling like he was splitting him in half with his cock, for all the sounds Kurosaki made. It felt so good, his ass gripped him so tight, he nearly worried he was going to turn Kurosaki inside out. The slap of his hips was weirdly erotic when mingled with his own groans and growls. He supposed that should be obvious, but he'd never given it much thought, and he liked the sound.

He thrust faster, each slam of his hips knocking the breath out of Kurosaki, until he was positive he was breathing fast enough to pass out. His cheek and a horn was flattened against Zangetsu's stomach, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, his hair a tangled mess strewn over his hollows lap and the grass. He neglected Kurosaki's cock entirely, unsure if he did it out of spite or not, but he knew he wanted to use him up and make him take it.

Kurosaki started to move, shoving his hips back up against him, desperate and needy. Grimmjow liked being in control, and it was clear the thought both scared and excited Kurosaki. Zangetsu had pulled all of Kurosaki's hair back over his shoulder and off his neck, an invitation if he ever saw one. He was already gritting his teeth, chest tight was the anticipation of sinking his teeth into a muscled neck, into a powerful soul. His God, whether he wanted the title or not.

A God that was taking his cock like a hungry bitch. He couldn't get enough of it.

He braced himself with a hand on cool earth, his other hand on his hip and tightened his jaws around the side of Kurosaki's neck. Sharp teeth pierced his skin and the acidic tang of his blood wet his tongue. Kurosaki yelped, bucking under him, and Grimmjow finally reached around him to jerk his cock.

Nearly sobbing, Kurosaki's hole squeezed his cock hard, spasming with each hot spurt of cum that coated his hand. Holy hell he felt good when he came, he kept thrusting, his pace erratic and desperate as his own orgasm clogged his senses with pleasure and the scent of Kurosaki's lust and pain. He tightened his jaws, slamming his hips in deep and moaned, his cum spilling into the hybrid's tight hole.

He stayed as deep inside as he could, pressed tight to the warm, trembling body beneath him. He still had his hand clenched around his cock, too tight to be comfortable, fresh blood still wetting his tongue. He was probably causing Kurosaki lots of pain, but from the pulse of his cock in his palm, he didn't have a lot of complaints about it.

It was minutes before he pulled his teeth from his neck, still panting hard. Kurosaki was mostly boneless, but now he watched Grimmjow over his shoulder, the look in his eyes betraying how spent he was, and at the same time, uncertain. His skin was tacky with sweat and caught the moonlight in all the right angles. This beautiful monster looked at him like there was nothing else in the world. Grimmjow sighed, pulling out slowly, and Zangetsu took that as a cue to shatter the Kidou that bound his wielder.

Kurosaki brought his arms back around to his chest with a wince and a groan, stretching cramped muscles. Grimmjow shifted beside him and pulled him into a tight hug. Zangetsu flickered out of existence, leaving them alone, even if Grimmjow still had questions. Kurosaki rolled into his embrace, catching his lips in a kiss. It was soft and shockingly brittle. That was a lot of vulnerability and trust all at once, it seemed to leave Kurosaki both satisfied and fragile.

He could break him if he wanted, it would be so easy, and Kurosaki knew it, but he turned to him anyway. For comfort? He wasn't sure what Kurosaki wanted, but he had a choice to make.

"I love you, Ichigo." He smoothed his hand over the back of his neck, across tense shoulders, trying to ease the hybrid in his arms. "You did good."

The hybrid's expression twisted, shame darkening golden eyes. "You don't haveta talk me off the ledge."

That wasn't the reaction Grimmjow wanted at all. "I think I do. That was hard for you."

He grimaced. "I didn't do anything."

Grimmjow rolled Kurosaki to his back, straddling his hips. "Don't talk yourself down like it wasn't a big deal. I ain't that stupid, it's insulting." He opened his mouth to argue and Grimmjow pressed a finger to his lips, resisting the urge to just clamp his hand down over his mouth. "Ya ain't used to submitting. Even to me."

"But it's you."

"Shit, Kurosaki," The hybrid frowned a bit at his name choice, but habits died hard. "Did you think I'd be mad?"

A sheepish look crossed the hybrids face. "No. I don't know."

"You were really afraid." More shame. Grimmjow captured his face in his hand. "Hey, none of that. I'm proud of you."

"Gross, I don't have a daddy kink."

"Be serious, Kurosaki." The hybrid looked away again, a small frown on his face. "There you go again, thinking you can't enjoy shit. Well fuck you."

"You already did," Kurosaki interjected.

"Goddammit," Grimmjow hissed. "I'm trying to talk to you."

A sigh fell from his lips. "I'm sorry."

"I ain't lookin' for an apology."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Honesty," Grimmjow said. Kurosaki's eyes landed on his in surprise, and both fell silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. "You think I'm not nervous too? Shit-you don't have to let me do anything. I don't think I'd be half as willing to let you fuck me."

Hurt flashed across Kurosaki's face, and Grimmjow snarled, "I'm not done. I don't have even have half the track record you do for being on the receiving end of something that isn't a fist. It ain't a competition, but I'm not exactly comfortable...submitting." He tripped over the word, still so unused to hearing it, let alone applying it to himself. "You make me submit, an' that's different."

He swallowed, and Kurosaki waited, letting him speak. That meant more to him than he thought it would. "I don't think I could do what you did. Not right now. Don't pretend it's nothing."

Understanding finally flickered across Kurosaki's face, brows furrowing. "Yeah...yeah I was scared. Didn't feel rational."

"Kurosaki," His tone was deeply chiding, enough for the hybrid to blush. "You spent most of your life watching your back, I'm not surprised at all."

He argued, "But I know you won't hurt me." Grimmjow raised a brow and Kurosaki's argument fell flat with an annoyed scoff. "You know what I mean. You're not gonna do anything I don't want you to."

"Instincts. Don't gotta explain them to me." Grimmjow struggled not to smile, but fuck, he was feeling pretty good.

Kurosaki snorted, struggling not to smile back. "You look really weird when you smile like that."

"You callin' my face weird?"

Kurosaki chuckled, the sound just a touch hysterical. "Not used to seeing you smile."

"Don't got a lot to smile about."

The smile that stretched Kurosaki's face looked at home there, brightening features meant to intimidate. "I love you."

"Gross," Grimmjow deadpanned.

Kurosaki laughed, hands snaking up over his shoulders to pull himself up for a kiss. "Take me someplace I can shower, I feel nasty."

Grimmjow hummed, teasing, "Sexy."

"Don't laugh at me, it'll damage my fragile self esteem."

"I don't think it could get any lower, Kurosaki." The hybrid's lips turned down in disapproval. "Ichigo." He smiled again.

"I like when you use my name."

"Felt that."

The hybrid blushed, flustered, and Grimmjow didn't leave him a chance to stew in it. Kissing him soundly on the lips, he used la sangre to pull them both to a random hotel. The place was old, floors warping, re-plastered walls, the air thick with humidity. Kurosaki propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. "Where are we?"

"A place I think I remember from when I was alive." He felt Kurosaki's eyes on him and he smirked down at him. "Only good memories. It crossed my mind. Surprised it's still around."

Grimmjow got up to see if there was a shower, pleased to find there was. In fact, the entire bathroom must have been renovated recently, because it didn't match the style of the bedroom at all.

Looking back into the room, it was daylight, thin cotton curtains diffusing light from the sliding glass door. Kurosaki was still naked, the light smoothing soft curved over a hard body. It was both strange and breathtaking. He didn't fit in the situation at all. A living weapon, stood in the bedroom of a small seaside hotel. Wrong, maybe, but a curiosity he enjoyed. A seagull screamed, muffled by the glass, and Kurosaki noticed Grimmjow was staring, and then remembered he was naked. He was clearly uncomfortable being gawked at, but something about it must have struck his fancy, because even if he was embarrassed, he let Grimmjow look. When he just kept staring, Kurosaki asked, "So there's a shower?"

"Yeah."

And suddenly Kurosaki was behind him. He hadn't used la sangre, he was just that fast. He'd almost forgotten, and Kurosaki hadn't done it to remind him, it was as casual to him as breathing, and he didn't feel the need to check himself around Grimmjow. That was deeply flattering.

Flicking the bathroom light on, Kurosaki reached into the shower to run the water, swaying forward when Grimmjow plastered himself to his back, kissing and sucking his neck. "God, you'd think it was our honeymoon."

"I ain't that soft."

Kurosaki tried to glance back at him. "You sure?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Kurosaki laughed at the lack of venom in his voice. "Stupid bastard." Deeming the water warm enough, he stepped under the spray, and Grimmjow stripped hastily to join him. Kurosaki groaned, "God, I've missed showers."

Kicking his pants off, Grimmjow asked, "The fuck were you doing before?"

Kurosaki frowned. "Nothing. Moping I guess, in the other world. Or killing."

"Forget I asked," Grimmjow said. He joined him, but even if it was a walk in, they were still two grown men in a hotel shower. Kurosaki got the most of it, and he was left to freeze in the porcelain tundra.

He stared at the water pouring down his back, turning his hair into inky rivers that spread over his back and shoulders. He spent a lot of time staring at his back, but never when he was naked. He could see the tile through his chest. He didn't know why it seemed so jarring to him now, of all times.

Kurosaki suddenly turned, taking Grimmjow by the shoulders to push him up against the wall. The tile was cold against his back, but his insult died in his throat at the look on Kurosaki's face. The hybrid let go slowly, taking a small step back to stare. "You got to see me naked...feels fair," he mumbled.

Silence, save for the spray of the water. Kurosaki's eyes roamed, even going so far as his feet. That's right, he'd never seen his bare feet before. "Like what you see?"

Kurosaki's eyes jumped up to his hollow hole, not quite making it to his eyes. "Yeah. Of course I do." He finally looked up, and Grimmjow realized he couldn't read him. This was all new, he had no idea what was going on behind those eyes. "I'm making you nervous."

"A little," Grimmjow admitted. "Blink sometimes."

Kurosaki did, as if he hadn't realized. Which he probably hadn't. "You got me thinking about it...how do I prove I won't hurt you?"

"Time." His answer was immediate. He hadn't even thought about it, but he didn't think he could improve it.

Kurosaki slammed his palm up against the wall next to his face and Grimmjow flinched. Shit.

The look on Kurosaki's face wasn't disappointed, he seemed to have expected his reaction.

"That isn't fair," Grimmjow snarled.

"It isn't. You expect me to hurt you, because I do. I hurt you a lot."

"Kurosaki-"

"AM I WRONG?" he roared. The volume and strength behind the demand echoed in the small space. He was different than before. The tables had turned, Kurosaki had a firm grip back on his control, and he wasn't going to let it slip again so easily.

It didn't seem he'd meant to shout, because he seemed defeated when he dropped his arm from the wall.

"Don't mope on me now, you asshole."

Standing back under the water, Kurosaki groused, "I'm not moping."

"Yeah okay, and my hair isn't blue." Grimmjow changed the subject, not wanting to lose his grip on the mood they'd fostered. He reached for his neck, over the bite that was still marring his skin.

Kurosaki flinched, hand snapping up to cover his on reflex. He looked over his shoulder at him, water dripping off his face, hair clinging his cheeks.

"You left it," Grimmjow said.

Kurosaki's brows drew tight, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. "You wanted me to."

Grimmjow spun him around and kissed him, tongue tangling around the hybrid's. He didn't pull back too far, only enough to push wet strands of hair off of his neck to admire his handiwork. The semicircle left behind by his teeth looked like a scar that had always been there, but it was his.

"You like it that much?" Kurosaki asked. He seemed curious, more than anything.

"You don't see yourself like I do." Grimmjow tried to explain, but it was more of a gut feeling than something he knew how to put into words. "You're this all powerful God- I know you hate it when I call you that, but shut the fuck up for a second and let me finish. You're so powerful, in all the time we've fought and sparred, I never once left a permanent mark. It's like it never was. I was dead and there was no proof I was ever even here."

"Grimmjow…"

"Maybe I want people to know you're mine. That you let me have you."

"I didn't realize."

"I've seen the way you look at me." He corrected. "At this body." Kurosaki fidgeted, self-conscious. "You look at this scar the same way. Don't think I didn't notice."

"It's hard not to. I know you're not the same, but…"

"Yeah, I know. Got a hard enough time remembering the Kurosaki in my dreams is still you. You were feisty."

Kurosaki chuckled, dropping his hand from Grimmjow's. "I got meaner."

"You did. Would'a been weird if you didn't."

Kurosaki frowned slightly, unhappy with himself. "I don't know why you put up with it."

"There's benefits."

"Benefits?" Kurosaki questioned.

"First, trade places, I'm freezing my dick off." Kurosaki traded places, and if the cold bothered him, he didn't show it, Asshole. Hot water running over his shoulders, Grimmjow sighed. Better. "The obvious; you fight me, I get to fight back. You keep things interesting, and I'll bitch about you all damn day, but I'm not alone."

"Your fraccion," Kurosaki started.

"I don't wanna fuck my fraccion, and I'm too strong for them now. Kind of limits playtime."

"Fine, but I still got you killed."

"Yeah...yeah and I'm still dealing with that, don't think I didn't think about it, but anyone could have killed me. Aizen, Ulquiorra, Mictlan...It was just a matter of time, don't kid yourself."

"It was still my fault."

"Shut up, you're not Shinigami," Grimmjow snarled. From the look on Kurosaki's face, he disagreed. He leaned back, disengaging from the argument. "I'm not talking about this with my dick out in the shower."

Kurosaki chuckled. "Fair enough." He pushed on Grimmjow's shoulder to get him to turn around, and Grimmjow saw no reason not to roll with it. He was a little annoyed, but the second Kurosaki started raking his fingers through his hair, he melted. Claws teased his scalp and ran gentle lines that sent shocks of pleasure up his spine. Holy hell, what were they even talking about? He caught himself on the wall with a hand, head rolling back into the touch.

"Should have guessed a cat hollow would like pets."

"If you hadn't just let me fuck you, I'd draw blood for that."

Kurosaki laughed under his breath. "Unless you think you can go again, don't rile me up."

"Weird fucker."

After that the conversation fell into a lull, and both were content to forget about the outside world and consequences. They stepped out of the shower, drying off, and Grimmjow noticed Kurosaki was less shy about being naked. He was still weirdly modest, but he was less flustered.

Once back in the bedroom where there was space, Kurosaki held his hands out in front of him, pulling his Zanpakuto from where they'd left it. He leaned it up against the dresser, the tip sinking over an inch into old wood. He left Zangetsu there and sat on the bed, staring at it. Grimmjow sat behind him, noticing the distant roar of waves, beneath screaming gulls. "When are we gonna talk about your hollow?"

"I don't even know where to start."

"He's you and he's not, but he was involved."

"Involved," Kurosaki repeated flatly.

"Did he do all that for you?"

Kurosaki was a bit too still. He was nervous. "You're asking if he cares."

"I guess I am."

Zangetsu materialized before his wielder, and for a moment, the two just stared at each other. Grimmjow was sure they spoke, but he wasn't privy to that conversation, and frankly, he didn't want to be. Zangetsu shifted his eyes to Grimmjow. "Koneko...I'm still a part of Ichigo, I'm a slave to his deeper desires and feelings."

Grimmjow looked away, question effectively answered, but he was a little taken aback by how much it hurt. He hadn't thought he'd give a shit. The hollow left him as bait for Alteza, he should loathe him. But he didn't.

Circling the bed to invade his personal space, Zangetsu reached for his chest, pushing him flat to the bed. "That doesn't mean I'm incapable of my own feelings. You tied up Ichgio's heart, you were fragile, breakable. One day you'd die, and he'd fall apart. I hated you for that." He leaned in, lips curled in disgust. "Hated you."

Grimmjow almost fought to remove him, but for the moment, he left him perched over his waist, his back hitting the mattress. "You made that pretty clear."

"Past tense, koneko. You protected him when I couldn't. Listened to him. Called out his bullshit. Now you share his soul, you stole his heart." The hollow surprised him with a kiss, all teeth and savage and biting. It was Kurosaki, but it wasn't. The hollow leaned back, their breath hot between them, and said. "Of course I love you. It isn't like you to have doubts."

Shock settled in his gut, but running past events through his head, he couldn't doubt him. Grimmjow's eyes flicked to Kurosaki. "You knew!" he accused.

"I did," he admitted, "You needed to hear it from Zangetsu."

He supposed that was true, he'd have called bullshit otherwise. Grimmjow asked, "So what's this mean?"

"Whatever you want, koneko," Zangetsu drawled. He held his hand out, and for a split second, Grimmjow was confused. A trench knife was suddenly in his hand, color inverted from the blade Kurosaki had left on the dresser.

The weapon was angled straight for his heart.

Grimmjow's stomach leapt into his throat in quick panic, but the sword was already through his chest, point stuck into the mattress beneath him.

His breath tangled in his chest, expecting pain, but it never came. Zangetsu pulled the sword free, showing the bloodless blade to him. "Relax, koneko, you're a part of Ichigo. I can't hurt you."

Finding his breath, Grimmjow demanded, "Did you know he was going to do that?" From how startled Kurosaki looked, that was a big, resounding no. "I don't know if I love you or what, how did you know that wouldn't kill me?"

Zangetsu smiled, flashing his teeth, and it looked less than sane. "Faith."

Grimmjow grunted. "You're both mad."

"Zangetsu is flashy," Kurosaki said, but he didn't disagree. "Speaking of. Can you bring me something to wear?"

Zangetsu huffed, "I'm a sword, not a personal assistant."

Kurosaki laid back on the bed, wet hair brushing Grimmjow's arm. "Thought you'd say that."

Zangetsu rolled off Grimmjow's waist and ordered his wielder. "Sleep. You could use it." Grimmjow was about to ask him a question when he vanished again, leaving him alone with Kurosaki.

"Hate when he does that. I feel like I'm missing half the conversation."

Kurosaki wiggled up higher on the bed, honest to God wiggling. He curled more onto his side, resting his head on Grimmjow's arm. His hair was hot and damp on his sleeve, the weight a comfort, no matter how new it was to see. He'd been dead a long time. It didn't feel like it, but to Kurosaki, it was months of agony and stagnation. Grimmjow noticed he was quieter. It reminded him of the first time he'd truly gotten to see beyond the mask.

The hybrid was trying to stay normal, he was trying to keep up appearances and keep himself together. The facade almost worked, but Grimmjow wasn't fooled. Kurosaki looked to his hollow and him for support. He didn't ask, he wouldn't, he was too stubborn for that.

But Kurosaki reached out for him, struggling to trust him. A beautiful mess. He called him a God, but Kurosaki had fallen for him. He'd fallen hard.

Forcing those thoughts aside, Grimmjow pulled himself up on the bed, rolling to face him. He curled around his head, one of his horns cutting into a bicep, but he ignored it. He wished in vain that he'd been stronger. It wasn't like him to regret, but he didn't like seeing Kurosaki so shaken.

Kurosaki lifted a hand to his arm, just touching, reassuring himself Grimmjow was still there. "I've got you," Grimmjow said. "Sleep." They could face reality later. For now, it was just the two of them, and the laughter of distant gulls.

-xxx-

This is it, you all hate me now, I've ruined it D

I read all your lovely reviews, I take the time I'd normally take to answer to write chapters, I feel like I can't look you guys in the proverbial eyes without something to show for it after all that praise kjnerjgn Thanks so much you guys, for real. Watch, you'll have forgotten me and I'll finally answer your review.