Stars

Imogen


Cirucci’s room was an exercise in white, gray and purple. It was small, with a large bathroom and closet, and very clean, when there weren’t inconsiderate blue-haired Espada tearing through her dresser and throwing her underthings every which way.

“Grimmjow!” Her voice snarled from the doorway as another outfit went flying. Grimmjow’s head poked out of the drawers.

“Hey Thundertits,” Grimm called out. “You still have trouble naturally lubricating, right?” Cirucci reddened, and he shamelessly dropped more clothes in a heap on the floor. “I need some lube for Kurosaki and I was tryin’ to find your stash. Why the hell ain’t it in your underwear drawer like every other woman ever?” He asked with a scowl, and held up one of her bras, showing her, she guessed, that there was no lube in sight.

“You,” Cirucci said lividly, barely holding back her temper. “You selfish, mangy rotten alley cat! What could have possibly made you think this was a good idea!? You flea-bitten infested parasite! Get out! OUT!” At first, Grimmjow just looked puzzled at her explosion. He finally seemed to realize that he might be in trouble after she reached for her weapon.

“Whoa, hey, uh…” He backed away from her dresser and towards the closest window. Cirucci strode over to him and looked him in the eye. “No reason to go psycho-bitch killer on me, right?”

“Grimmjow,” she said darkly. She could almost see his adorable little cat ears pinning back at her tone. “If you ever do anything like this again,” she said smoothly while reaching into her back pocket. “I will castrate you.” His eyes were following her free hand intensely, hoping she wasn’t bringing out a knife to do it right then and there. “Got it?” She shoved a bottle of lube into one of his open hands and let go. Grimmjow was out her room, grinning, in a flash. “…”

“AND I DON’T WANT IT BACK!”

~

Jeagerjacques stalked. He was well below any radar he cared about, most importantly the sunburst of reiatsu he was basking in the shadow of. Just a little more careless, just a little more. Kurosaki Ichigo was plenty oblivious half the time as it was, but if Grimmjow was going to risk his life for this piece of ass, then even he was going to be careful.

The Shinigami slung his sword over his shoulder and gingerly made his way down a steep grassy hill next to the river. Grimm’s eyes narrowed; he didn’t know what Ichigo was up to at the moment, but he couldn’t waste a chance like this. He used his sonido and dove at the unsuspecting redhead’s midsection, crashing them both into the river. Ichigo had barely enough time for a shout of surprise before he was struggling for control under the water. Grimmjow grabbed his prey’s arm and swung him out of the river onto his back, and crawled over his body. Mine.

“You!” Ichigo gasped, coughing up water and getting the hair out of his eyes. “What the hell is your problem?!” He yelled at the Sexte Espada. “Would it kill you to use a normal greeting?” Grimmjow’s smile spread slowly and his lids lowered dangerously; the man looked ready to purr, and it made Kurosaki tense.

“It might, with you,” the Espada said, and lowered himself against the teen’s body, leaning in to delicately lick drops of water from Ichigo’s neck.

~

“Isn’t that supposed to be part of this?” Ichigo asked, concealing his nervousness, willing himself not to move away from Grimmjow’s eerie, skilled tongue. The Espada wasn’t shy and his body crushed down against Ichigo’s—he wasn’t sure whether to wait or give up and throw himself at the man’s mercy.

“Not tonight,” Grimm said deep in his chest. He opened Ichigo’s haori further and started to run his tongue along his chest. Oh no. Did they have to be wet? Did he have to be so close? So good at this? “Touch me,” the Espada commanded him as his right hand buried itself in Ichigo’s thick hair.

Ichigo didn’t fight the order. He reached out and touched Grimmjow’s mask. The man flinched in surprise and tried to pull away, but Ichigo’s hand closed around the bone.

“Th-That isn’t what I meant,” The Sexte Espada hissed in a strange tone, all his muscles taut. Does it hurt Arrancar when their masks are touched?

“Let me,” Ichigo said, and traced his calloused fingers along the bone. Eventually Grimmjow relaxed again, and leaned into the touch. “What does it feel like?” He asked quietly.

“…” Grimmjow shook his head and began kissing and sucking at the base of Ichigo’s throat. His long hands shoved aside the last of Ichigo’s haori, and his foot began slowly moving up along his hakama and rubbing the Shinigami’s calf.

“Grimmjow,” Ichigo insisted as he reached into the man’s jacket and up to his muscled shoulders. “Why the fuck won’t you tell me?” The Espada rose angrily from his focus and growled.

“Because I can’t tell you what it feels like,” Jeagerjacques said while looking oddly uncomfortable. “But…” His hand slid down Ichigo’s side to the back of his leg, rubbing and feeling until he started kneading his backside. The redhead flushed and pulled the Espada’s jacket down, studying carefully as his body was revealed. He touched just the edge of the Hole, remembering.

“But?” Ichigo looked up into Grimmjow’s eyes. Scary blue. And dangerous, and lusty, and…

“I can make you feel it,” the Arrancar said sinfully before covering Ichigo’s mouth with his own, kissing him deeply. That was an exaggeration, the teen thought. Grimmjow showing off. But the Espada’s reiatsu spread over his body in tendrils he could feel, that drove him wild. He stopped keeping a check on his own energy and let it crash against the Arrancar’s. Grimmjow shivered and slowly ground his hips against Ichigo’s. It drove his breath away, the feeling stabbed into his gut enjoyably again and again.

When Grimmjow finally released him from the kiss, they were both crimson and breathing heavily. Without speaking he met Ichigo’s eyes and began pulling down his hakama. Once they were off, the Shinigami wrapped his arms around Grimmjow’s neck and kissed him hungrily, pulling him back down to the ground.

There was no more thinking. Not about the lightheadedness Ichigo suddenly felt or the lightning that raced across his skin, the desire in his gut, not about what might happen soon. Both of them fought to pull down Grimmjow’s pants as quickly as possible before pressing their bodies back together. Their legs twined and arms wrapped around each other, kissing and stealing breaths, rolling across the ground.

~

Grimmjow’s hands grabbed his partner’s ass confidently and pulled him closer so that he could grind against him. Ichigo made a dissatisfied sound when he was first grabbed. It turned to a slow exclamation of breath and a moan.

“Told you your ass was mine,” Grimmjow taunted him with another squeeze and another euphoric thrust against his partner.

“Shut up,” Ichigo snapped with a power and darkness behind his words he hadn’t used around Grimmjow before. “It’s yours because I’m letting you have it,” he growled, gold shining behind his brandy eyes. It triggered the Espada and he slammed his prey down back to the earth and reached under the waistband of his boxers. He barely touched the teen’s clearly aching erection, making him whine, and then ripped his boxers down.

“Let’s see if you live to regret that,” Grimmjow whispered hotly into his prize’s ear. The lube he’d borrowed from Cirucci already in hand, he popped the cap and started rubbing the substance liberally on his hands and cock. Another sort of light entered Kurosaki’s eyes as he watched; it made the desire settle hot into Grimmjow’s bones like the brightest coals, ready and waiting.

~

“…This,” Ichigo said, remembering the things he’d read, and saw, and watched… and feeling suddenly uneasy. “…This is the part that I—“ The strawberry’s words broke into a short yell when Grimmjow forced a finger into his entrance without warning him. “You bastard!” The Espada held tightly onto Ichigo’s left leg to keep him from struggling away as his right index finger stretched the ring of muscle at the Shinigami’s entrance. It was a strange sensation, but it was turning him on much more than he ever thought it would. Precum was beading faster and faster at the tip of his penis. He was starting to ache with need, fighting back noises for his pride’s sake. Luckily for him Grimmjow wasn’t slow—another slick finger started to probe and press inside him, filling him and making him moan. Grimmjow in turned grunted above him.

“No need to think about it,” he said roughly, and stretched Ichigo’s leg closer to the teen’s chest with his own body. A third finger began pressing for access and Ichigo tensed nervously—but Grimmjow’s shoved in anyway, sending an aching thrill through his high-strung body. The fingers worked deeper inside him past each knuckle, pressing and scissoring, making the boy quiver. Grimm, oh—dammit, oh please…

In half apology half tease the Sexte Espada bent to lick delicately at the slit of the teen’s stiff and alert cock, until unceremoniously all of his fingers removed themselves from inside. Ichigo looked at his partner lustily and questioningly.

Grimm released his hold on Ichigo’s leg as he met his lips for a deep tongue kiss, and carefully guided the tip of his cock to the redhead’s now slick entrance. Darts of nervousness pricked at him, but he pressed his tongue against Grimmjow’s and gripped his back tightly. If he lost himself in the kiss, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so badly.

The Espada pressed slowly, all the while intensely exploring Ichigo’s mouth, until the head of his dick was in. Then Grimmjow drew his hips back just slightly and slammed his long cock wholly inside. The Shinigami tried to scream and thrash, but the Espada continued to kiss him passionately. It hurts, it hurts, he screamed in his head. It throbbed and it was hurting in waves across his whole body. Ichigo pulled his fist back and socked the Espada violently away from his face.

“Fuck!” Grimmjow clutched his cheek.

“You son of a bitch!” Ichigo shouted hoarsely. “Agh, you fucking bastard,” he continued angrily, still trying to writhe into some form of comfort with Grimmjow inside him. The man leaned back over Ichigo carefully, with a somewhat contrite grin and a rapidly forming bruise on his face.

“I know you’re pissed, but you’d’ve tensed up and it’d hurt even worse,” he offered before the temperamental teen felt like punching that hard again.

“That’s such bullshit! Oh shit, ohhhh…” Grimmjow’s smile became even more rakish.

“I think you’re gonna like this more’n you thought, little man,” he taunted cruelly, carefully rocking his hips into Ichigo’s body without removing his cock. Ichigo quivered and arched his back as he felt him brush something—oh… wet and breathless…He wasn’t sure... Grimmjow began pulling out just slightly and jabbing back into Ichigo’s giving body. His eyes flicked back and forth from slamming inside the boy to the looks on his face, joyfully raw and uncontrolled, unlike any other time.

“I’m…not gonna last that long, Grimmjow,” Ichigo warned throatily as the man’s thrusts became deeper and faster, so smooth and long. Ichigo’s muscled legs began clenching tightly to Grimmjow’s sides, making every thrust deeper. The Shinigami moaned. More. I’m going insane.

“Tell me how much you like it,” the Espada asked, low and seductive, before he began to claim a nipple with his tongue. Ichigo groaned again quietly.

“Don’t, don’t stop, so close,” he couldn’t even look into Grimmjow’s electric blue eyes anymore. He was lost, shaking in time to the pulses from between his legs. His lidded brandy eyes stared hazily at a spot into the distance, waiting.

Grimmjow pressed his lips against Ichigo’s, this time slipping his tongue in gently while his hips slammed hard. Too soon something inside Ichigo rushed over the edge and he moaned deeply into their kiss as he came. The blue-haired man broke just barely from their kiss to groan in pleasure, then captured him again as he shot himself inside the redhead. His thrusts slowed to a stop and the beautiful man let himself rest on top of a tired and sated Ichigo.

Too soon he started to notice the wind breathing against his sweaty skin and the cool, damp clothing underneath them. Grimmjow slid out of him carefully, and with a deeply self-satisfied smirk handed Ichigo his boxers. He snatched them away with a requisite scowl and pulled them on. Grimm watched him.

"Didn't think you'd be so..." Grimmjow chewed on the word. "Nonchalant about it afterwards," he finished with a grin. He seemed to think it was charming to help Ichigo redress by yanking his haori back over his shoulders.

"...Maybe I'm thinking about the next time," Ichigo offered carelessly, not looking at the Espada and his predatory smiles. And maybe I am.

"Mm... I'll come see you about that," Grimmjow rumbled. Ichigo could practically feel the satisfaction rolling off the Arrancar's skin in waves. Now he wanted to smack the man around a little before the next time.

"So is that really how it felt when I touched your mask?" The Shinigami asked suddenly. Grimmjow went silent, and Ichigo was sure his smirk was no longer there.

"...Sorta," he answered gruffly. Ichigo stood up and made sure his shihakusho was correct before looking at him again.

"If you had to use words," he pressed, trying not to betray his interest in the answer. But he felt like he already had the answer. Grimmjow shifted uncomfortably, looking ready to leave.

"...Like you were touching... Y'know, whatever we Arrancar got... instead a' souls," Grimmjow muttered while looking at Ichigo shrewdly, expecting disbelief or mockery. Instead there was silence. "What?" He jabbed angrily.

"Nothing," Ichigo said, staring at him. "Just-- That's what I thought." They looked at each other for a long moment after that. Grimmjow looked away first.

"I'll see you," he said without turning. A blink and his sonido had carried the Espada far away, again Ichigo got the familiar feeling he was sinking into something much deeper than he'd planned.


~