100 Theme Challenge 64 Style
48. Words
Everybody knew that Ulquiorra was Scottish. After all, he was a foreign exchange student. And hell, even if you didn't know that you'd figure pretty damn fast what with his (fucking adorable) accent. And damn did Grimmjow love that accent.
In fact, he loved all of Ulquiorra. He adored those big green doe eyes, that jagged scene haircut on those sleek black locks, that oh-so-very pale and unblemished skin that despite its whiteness was not unhealthy, in fact in the light it almost glowed, those long kohl eyelashes, those sinfully plump and naturally pink lips, that slim and lean form that fit into his more muscled arms perfectly, and of course that wasn't even mentioning Ulquiorra's personality. What did you think Grimmjow was, somebody who dated just for the other person's body? Hell no. When it came to Ulquiorra, he really fucking cared.
They had met because Ulquiorra transferred to Grimmjow's school, and Grimmjow had figured out fast he had a thing for the other boy. Then the family who was housing Ulquiorra had said they didn't want Ulquiorra in their house anymore, and Grimmjow had spied his chance. He'd talked to the dean, and Ulquiorra had come to live with Grimmjow in the modestly-sized house his parents had left him when they died. It had taken a damn long time, but Grimmjow had gotten under Ulquiorra's cold hard exterior and things had gone from there. Ulquiorra had written to his family in Scotland, and now he and Grimmjow lived together while going to college. They'd gotten into different schools, but they were in the same area and they could stay in Grimmjow's house.
Come Ulquiorra's twenty-first birthday, Grimmjow had found out just how wonderful Ulquiorra's accent really was. And even though Ulquiorra just about never indulged in a drink or two, when he did he slipped back into Scottish. And when he was full-out drunk, well...
"Och aye! Grimmjow! Ayyye, sae guid!" Ulquiorra cried, his usual stoic mask just completely, utterly gone. He always got a little like this during sex, but never this much without at least four drinks in him. And that motherfucking accent...
"Mmmm," Grimmjow hummed as he adjusted his angle just so, feeling Ulquiorra's inner walls constricting his pulsing cock. God, he loved having sex with Ulquiorra. It was just...incredible.
"Aye, sae strang! Ah, Grimmjow, sae guid, sae sae guid!"
And apparently, Ulquiorra thought so too.
"Och! Och aye, Grimmjow! Keep it 'ere! Ye're sae guid tae me! Aam guinna coom sun, so sun! Occchhhh Grimmjowwwww!" Ulquiorra's beautiful face twisted, flushed into that expression Grimmjow knew so well. Drunk or not, Ulquiorra always got this painfully blissful look on his face that told Grimmjow he was going to cum. Grimmjow seethed a moan out through his teeth, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him as Ulquiorra spasmed around his cock. "Och! Och! Oaaaaaa!"
And then that was it. Ulquiorra came explosively, and he dragged Grimmjow down with him. Grimmjow's eyes rolled back into his head as light ricocheted around inside of his body. He could feel all too acutely the way that Ulquiorra clamped down on him, the way that they both arched into each other, the way they both slumped as it ended, the way they panted with the exertion of what they had just done.
"Aa luve ye, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra murmured sleepily, and Grimmjow smiled tiredly at the little bundle in his arms.
"I love you too, Ulquiorra," he said. "Especially when you use those Scottish words." Ulquiorra chuckled just a little, a nearly impossible sight to see, and nuzzled deeper into Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow smiled.