A/N: I needed to write something different from my chapter story - I'm getting a little tired of it. This was just a quick change of pace, and I have no intention of lengthening it. Just so's you know...

Anyway, enjoy! Please leave a review on your way out.

Pain Tolerance

Grimmjow shoved the other male up against the brick wall, pinning him there with one hand on the teenager's throat. "Shinigami," he hissed.

Through half-lidded eyes, Ichigo could only watch as the Espada raised his sword. His empty hands twitched helplessly; his eyes flicked over the Sexta's shoulder to his battered zanpakuto sticking up in the rubble of the otherwise empty street. Then pain shocked through his left shoulder and he cried out. Panting, he glanced down to discover Grimmjow's katana jutting from his body. He locked stares with the other man, fright obvious in the tension around his eyes.

Grimmjow's sneering expression changed like the flick of a switch. "Ichigo?" he asked in concern.

"No," the teen forced out, "I'm still okay. Don't stop."

Grimmjow's predatory grin returned, oozing ever wider across his face. Leaning in, he rubbed his broken mask against the other male's cheek, then pressed a kiss onto Ichigo's open mouth. Grimmjow's left hand slid from the teenager's throat to the back of his head and clutched the orange hair painfully tight. The Sexta slid his tongue inside, tasting a touch of coppery blood from the other's cut lip. He slid his free hand down the Shinigami's body to cup his erection. Ichigo moaned into his lover's lips and licked along the lower one like a subservient dog.

Grimmjow's hand left that hard, pulsating length (too soon, Ichigo thought) and yanked out the sword still embedded in the Shinigami's shoulder, tossing it with a clang to the ground. A shuddering groan and a gush of blood rewarded the Espada.

Grimmjow abandoned Ichigo's lips. Sliding the black shihakushou down the teen's shoulders revealed the wound, pumping blood with each precious heartbeat. The Sexta closed his mouth over it, reveling in the inimitable flavor. Running his tongue slowly along the rippled edges of the cut, he suddenly plunged his tongue inside the vertical slit.

Ichigo grunted. His body fought it, writhing against the brick wall, even as the wildfire of pleasure-pain shot through all the nerve endings in his body. It was nearly too much, nearly to the point where it passed into simple pain. He brought his hands up to the Espada's bare lower back, stroking the heated, sweat-slick skin. Ichigo felt the tongue shove deeper into the cut; his eyes flew wide. "All right, enough! Enough!"

Grimmjow drew back, glistening crimson staining his mouth and dripping down his chin. "Yum," he murmured, teal eyes glazed. He pressed his nose onto Ichigo's, staring cross-eyed into those smoldering brown orbs. "I've tasted a lot of souls – including Shinigami's – but yours is best," he confided. Even now, he could feel the reiatsu inside his stomach, thrumming with power. Soon, it would merge into his own; each ruby drop of blood made him just a little bit stronger.

A sweet smile spread across Ichigo's tense face. "Thanks."

Grimmjow glared. "Don't." Mushy sentimentalism? Fuck no. Never.

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled, closing his eyes. He was grateful for the wall at his back and the man against his front, or his quaking body would have already slid to the ground by now. "Getting... light-headed," he admitted.

Grimmjow merely hummed against his neck. Opening his mouth wide, he sank his teeth into the joint between shoulder and neck. Ichigo's head rocked back, cracking against the brick. Stars twinkled in front of his eyes. "Stop, Grimmjow," he rasped. "That's enough."

A low growl rumbled in the older male's chest as his teeth sunk in deeper.

"Grimmjow!" The teen's heart sped up, pushing the blood out of the wound faster and faster, slicking down his toned chest. He pushed at the other's shoulders.

The growl deepened into a lion's angry, territorial snarl. The Arrancar shook his head minutely back and forth, tugging the flesh clamped in his mouth. Ichigo snapped, "Enough!"

Grimmjow pulled back at last. He grinned, licking his still blood-smeared lips. "You taste better when you're afraid." His leer widened. "Like prey."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Ichigo grumbled. "But I don't want to pass out from blood loss again." He leveled a glare at Grimmjow.

The older male sobered. He hadn't liked leaving an unconscious Ichigo on Inoue's front step. "Your place?" Or do we need to stop the bleeding here?

"Sure. Just don't let my dad or sisters see us."

Grimmjow stepped away from his lover, scooped up the katana at his feet and sheathed it. He trotted over to retrieve Ichigo's and then turned around, only to see his lover slumped down against the wall, eyes half open. "Shit."

"Ichigo." The Shinigami felt a light slap on his cheek. "Ichigo."

The teen blinked his eyes clear. "Huh?"

Grimmjow sat back on his heels and folded his arms. "Idiot."

"Bastard," Ichigo retorted automatically. Then he gasped as he was picked up and tossed over Grimmjow's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, dumbass? Just shut up."

Soon, they were both naked on Ichigo's bed with the door and window locked. A towel lay under Ichigo's no longer bleeding shoulder – just in case, the teen insisted.

"Hurry up," Ichigo panted, rocking his hips.

Grimmjow backhanded him across the cheek. "Shut up, I said. Don't you listen?"

Ichigo muttered unconvincingly, "Sorry."

The Espada growled and yanked the teen's feet onto his shoulders, forcing his way inside that tight heat. Ichigo gasped and shuddered, biting his lower lip. He moaned, tilting his hips up to meet the dry strokes. That borderline pleasure spiked anew. Later, there would be only pain, but for right now, the one was indistinguishable from the other, and it was delicious.

Grimmjow delighted in the teen's twisting expression of carnal agony. The fear had already dissipated from his eyes, but that was okay, too. He pressed his fingers into Ichigo's shoulder wound, tearing a strangled exclamation out of him. The powerful blood he licked from his fingers was good enough.

Together they crested and cried out, shuddering with release. Grimmjow dropped Ichigo's legs and collapsed across his chest. The teenager's breath rushed out with a tired, pained grunt. They panted for a long moment before Grimmjow rolled off onto his side.

When he could speak, he muttered, "I still say your pain tolerance is too high."

Ichigo grinned wearily at him. "You like it."

Grimmjow reached out and swiped up some more blood off the Shinigami's chest, sticking his smeared finger into Ichigo's mouth. "Just shut up."