"C'mon Grimmjow-sempai! We'll be late for English if you don't hurry!" The flamboyant blonde called to his friend and upperclassmen, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

"Yeah, yeah, shut it Grantz. I don't give a flyin' fuck about Schiffer's goddamn English class." He answered and dropped the nerd he was hassling for money.

"And do you have to pick on my little brother? My dad is always givin' me shit about protecting him, bro…"

"Do you have to be a whiny bitch?" The bluenette's glare was venomous. The bell signaling the beginning of class rang and they both cursed.

When they finally entered the classroom, both got sticks of chalk to the forehead. "Th' fuck, man?" Grimmjow growled at the emotionless teacher, who hadn't even looked away from the chalkboard.

"IlForte Grantz and Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Both of you will serve two-hour detentions after school today." He commented. "Take your seats. And wipe the chalk off your foreheads, you both look ridiculous."

The two students looked at each other, finding matching white circles in the centers of their foreheads. They wiped them away, and Grimmjow growled loudly when a red dot was left behind. Nonetheless, they sat in their assigned seats, silent for the rest of the class.

After the final bell had rang, the two deviants headed back to Schiffer's class. IlForte had miraculously talked the bully out of skipping.

The two were spared the chalk-darts as they entered this time, their teacher seated at his desk, reading a book.

"Welcome boys. Grantz, for your detention, you'll be helping the librarian sort the books from our last book drive." The blonde didn't even groan. The other teen knew it was because the librarian, Cirucci Thunderwitch, was his latest target for sex. "And Jaegerjaques, You'll be here, scraping gum from the undersides of the desks."

The blue-haired highschooler did groan, shoulders slumping.

"Good luck, sempai!" Grantz teased and nearly skipped out.

"Fuckin' faggot…" He glared at the door.

"While in my classroom, you shall refrain from using such vulgarities, Mister Jaegerjaques." The teacher set down the novel, which Grimmjow vaguely recognized as one of the few authors he enjoyed, U. Cifer. The black-haired man looked up at him, his impossibly green eyes lacking emotion as he pulled a putty scraper from a drawer and handed it to the annoyed teen.

"Now, for the next two hours, you'll be scraping gum from under my desks, and I'll find something else for you to do when you're done with that."

Grimmjow glared vehemently as he set to work.

Ten minutes into it, he was getting annoyed and bored. "…I'm fuckin eighteen; I shouldn't have to do this shit…" He mumbled to himself.

"You're a senior with 2 months left before graduation. Deal with it." The teacher commented without looking up.

The student snarled from his position on the floor. "…Shut up."

Another 15 minutes passed. "…So, U. Cifer, huh?" Grimmjow tried to find some way to distract himself from the monotonous task.

"…Yes. He's a very good writer. Not that you'd know."

"Which one you readin'?"

"Through the Sands."

The bluenette wracked his brain. "Ahh… Oh, the one with that guy Kurosaki?"

Schiffer was pleasantly surprised. "So you do know of his works. Yes, the one with Ichigo."

"That guy's a fuckin' dumbass." Grimmjow snorted, scraping off a particularly large piece.

"What makes you say that? He's fighting against nearly impossible odds for his best-friend-turned-lover…"

"Name a challenge he faces."

"He has to fight himself at the mirror gate."

"Even I knew it was a fuckin illusion. He should have recognized that it wasn't even his fighting style!"

"…"

"See Schiffer-"

"Call me Ulquiorra."

"…Ulquiorra…" The name rolled off his tongue smoothly. "Ulquiorra, the character had wasted potential that everyone else just couldn't see."

"…You're right, Grimmjow."

"No shit, Sherlock. I wouldn't say it if I wasn't."

"I'll fix that in the next book…" The man muttered under his breath, and Grimmjow barely caught it as he finished the last desk.

"What do you mean, you'll fix it? You know the author?" He stood and walked back to the front of the classroom, dropping the scraper on the desk.

Ulquiorra sighed. "If you promise not to freak out…"

"Why the hell would I freak out?"

"…I am the author, Grimmjow. Cifer is the traditional version of my surname." He let his eyes slip shut, expecting some kind of insane fan reaction.

"…Why the fuck are you an English teacher?"

This made the man blink. "…What?"

"You heard me. You must be fuckin' loaded from the money from yer twelve books. Why d'ya deal with dumbass teenagers every day?" He asked.

"Oh… eighty percent my proceeds go to my favorite charities."

"That still leaves you with like, thousands."

"I enjoy teaching." The reply was a sharp, 'end of story' tone.

"…Whatever. Your characters could use some improvement. That Orihime chick needs to get a brain. And preferably a bigger vocabulary."

"She died three chapters into Eternal Moon."

"And those three chapters were waaayyy too much ditz to handle. Truthfully, I skipped over every line from her after the first three pages."

"Hmm… I see. Thank you." Ulquiorra looked truly considering.

"So. What do I have to do now?" The teen asked boredly.

"Honestly… I have nothing more for you to do." The emerald-eyed man told him.

"No shit? So I can leave?" Grimmjow asked incredulously.

"No you may not. You were still tardy today." The look on the bluenette's face nearly made the brunette smirk.

"…I have orphans to teach music to." Grimmjow lied.

"Sure. And I have bunnies to send to the moon. Oh, and Grimmjow? I am an orphan."

"…Shit." He wasn't expecting that…

"Yes. Now, sit before I make you write two hundred lines of 'I will not be late for Mr. Schiffer's class.'"

Grimmjow sat on top of the front desk, making Ulquiorra sigh. "Ya didn't say where." A feral grin crossed the bully's face.

"…" The teacher stood and walked over to stand in front of him, their eyes level. Green orbs met blue, and the air between them nearly sparked with tension.

"Jaegerjaques-" He was cut off when his pale lips were covered by a set of rough, demanding ones. His big eyes got bigger, and a pink blush was raised on his cheeks. His mouth worked against his students' without permission from his brain, and his eyes slipped shut as well.

When Grimmjow nipped his bottom lip before pulling away, Ulquiorra followed slightly, craving to taste that sinful mouth again. The action earned a chuckle.

"Shut up, Ulquiorra."