Master of Swords

Pairing: Hichigo/Grimmjaw
Summary: Hichigo had been watching the blue-haired Espada. Watching him fight and fuck Ichigo – his king – until he decided that turnaround was fair play and took matters into his own hands.

Rating: NC17 (and how!)

Feedback: Comments are welcome; constructive or positive. Flames are nice too because they make for something to laugh at and keep my feet toasty.
Special Thanks: As always, to the lovely and very talented Kat who is always so happy to beta for me, pointing out passive phrases and strange-sounding things that need fixing. Your beta work, along with pointing out parts that you like is always a joy to read through. ♥

Notes: This story is the first of two. I wanted to write a gift fic for Ered (http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/user/ered), who I’ve recently met through y!gallery and she’s just so sweet and nice. She’s drawn me a few gift arts and I wanted to pay her back with a little Hichi/Grimm/Ichigo in a schoolgirl uniform… yes, you’ll notice that this chapter lacks any Ichigo beyond the beginning… this story here is the introduction to that… don’t ask me. My muse demanded this. It demanded Hichi/Grimm and I was helpless to resist its demands. This chapter was just to get me in the mood to continue on to the threeway.
Please enjoy and forgive any errors on my part. Please forgive any possible OOC behaviour as well; this is my first attempt at writing these guys.

+++

Jack of Swords

Ichigo stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t hear anything, but he swore that something had been following him since he’d left school. He wasn’t the type that got nervous walking alone at night, even with all the hollows and arrancar that would show up asking for an ass kicking. If something was out to get him, let it come, though that night all he wanted was to get home and lose himself in sleep. He’d been battling the familiar pressure and hitching taunt of his hollow-self in the back of his mind and was feeling weakened after a day-long fight. Ichigo shook his head, steeling his resolve to ignore the ashen version of himself and get home and into bed.

That feeling crept up on him again; the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end and his feet stopped moving. The alley felt hollow and empty around him, tall buildings springing up on either side of him, but he could feel the distinct presence hovering over him. Feral and mocking.

“Took ya long enough, Kurosaki.” The purring voice drifted down to him from high above and Ichigo tilted his head up, turning around to look for the arrancar he knew had spoken.

A flash of white appeared above him, a splash of blue leapt behind him and then a blade was at his throat. Ichigo coughed once and gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to pull away from the cold metal that the arrancar pressed lovingly against his throat. Grimmjaw hovered over his shoulder, thick and imposing reiatsu caressing him. “Ready?”

Ichigo grunted and twisted away, wrenching out from under the blade and turned to face his enemy-sometimes-lover. “Not tonight, I’m not in the mood.”

“Aww, poor little shinigami. Too tired to fight or fuck? That’s alright, I wasn’t gonna let ya take control anyways…”

Ichigo shuddered as he watched a familiar tongue snake out and lick along the arrancar’s lips. He remembered the things that tongue had done during their last encounter and he could almost feel it caressing along his inner thigh right then; roving higher and higher… He clenched his jaw stood his ground, patting his pockets down to find the badge that would break his soul free of his body and let him properly fight. In the back of his consciousness, he could feel jagged nails scratching at his mind. Numbly picking at his defenses, his inner-hollow was restless, dying to get out… “Forget it, Grimmjaw,” Ichigo spat, getting desperate to find that stupid badge. “I’ll kick your ass if you want, but I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m not in the mood now.”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that already.” Grimmjaw huffed as he rested the flat of his sword over his shoulder, tilting the weapon so it glinted in the dim streetlights. A predatory air seemed to crackle around him and he lolled his head back, staring down his nose at the tired human. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen.”

One moment the arrancar was lazily regarding him from across the alley, the next moment he was gone and Ichigo leapt back to avoid the cutting blow that lashed out at him. His feet stumbled clumsily, throwing him against several garbage pails as he avoided the subsequent blows. His back smacked against the ground, puddle soaking his school uniform while he fumbled for the shinigami badge to break his soul free of his body. He sprang to his feet, dodging the arrancar’s zanpaktou a little more skillfully as he dug through his pockets, looking for that damned badge. He felt almost naked without Zangetsu in his hand and could only continue to leap away from the Espada’s blade. It was a blessed pause in the assault that gave him the much-needed time to search his difficult pockets, looking for the badge that he knew was somewhere on his person. He could feel Grimmjaw’s eyes raking along his body, devouring him. Ichigo shivered and shot him a brazen smirk of his own. It always started this way between them.

His fingers groped, nails finally catching on the soft cord of the substitute shinigami badge, pulling it free of his pocket before he slammed the back flat against his leg. The feeling of being split in two washed over him, something akin to static electricity crackled along his skin and it felt like death was pulling him apart, casting his living body to the side and embracing his soul-form. A flash, a splitting moment of pain and he was standing before the arrancar, his black shinigami robes fluttering in the wind and his zanpaktou ready to catch the sharp attack that Grimmjaw drove towards him. He blocked the downward swing and countered with a strike of his own. Ichigo leapt up to the air, perching on the ledge of a building before he spun around to block another attack, strength for strength waged against one another. He grunted with effort and pressed both of his hands against Zangetsu’s flat, shoving the arrancar off and pressing his advantage. They fell into their routine, he and Grimmjaw seemed determined to act out some twisted dance of aggression before it always fell to their more carnal desires. Blood or flesh, they usually tasted both by the end.

One, two, three strikes and Ichigo drew blood. He felt the crimson spray coat his sword, felt the hollow laughter inside him eating it up, bathing in that glorious liquid and Ichigo shuddered at how the one inside him drew power from it. He looked to his opponent; Grimmjaw stood before him, defiant as he wiped the blood from his brow, licking at the trail that crossed his mouth as it leaked down to his throat. He was oblivious to the churning sensation forcing its way through him. Oblivious to the hollow pushing its way to the surface.

Ichigo shuddered, no, not then. He couldn’t let his hollow out then. “Damnit…” he raised his blade in the last second to block an attack as he screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on that dark shadow in the back of his mind. It was on the move, pushing outward, pulling him back from his place of control. Taking over. They were beyond words. Hichigo’s raking voice echoing inside him, his own weak tenor shrieking for him to stop.

“Engh-!” Ichigo clutched at his head as a surge of power pressed outwards against his mind. Against his very soul and then he was swallowed up. The blackness was seeping into his vision – drops of black ink poisoning the whites of his eyes – his rich skin bleaching to an unearthly pallor of white and that creature that cackled its victory slammed his being against the back wall of his mind as he could only see darkness.

+

The fight paused for a brief moment. Grimmjaw stood his ground, eyeing the change that had come over the shinigami, wary of the strange change in countenance.

Hichigo seemed oblivious to the arrancar’s hard stare, lacing his fingers together and stretching them high above his head, his neck cracking to the side as he loosened up. His adrenaline was already on high, but he felt a surge of excitement when his eyes finally flicked back up to lock with his opponent. He’d watched, felt Ichigo fight this one many times before. Fight and be fucked by this one… Grimmjaw. He didn’t like that arrangement.

“So, what are ya supposed to be now, shinigami?” the Espada ground out, his brow furrowed in clear dislike of the situation.

Hichigo grinned widely, his lips thin as they drew back over his teeth, his eyes burning an excited gold in the pits of hollow blackness. He sighed, as if contemplating the question before shrugging and bolting forward. Fast.

He was much faster and Grimmjaw was only able to half-block the attack. He flew backwards, smashing into the building behind him, the brick and mortar flying everywhere, leaving him to climb out amid a cloud of stale dust. “The hell was that?” he coughed, wiping blood from a new cut on his face and Hichigo licked his lips.

“I figured I should show you, arrancar. Just so you know, I ain’t Ichigo. I don’t bend over for anybody…” he stepped forward, shunpo bringing him to appear by Grimmjaw’s side in a flash, keeping his foot moving at that speed to kick the blue-haired creature into the air. He followed, leaping into the sky, arching across the city skyline in pursuit of his quarry. He drew his zanpaktou back, ready to slice through the arrancar when his golden eyes first caught sight of the glowing red charge of a cero. He drew closer to the other, seeing the killing intent ablaze in those ice blue eyes, the red orb burning in his fingers, the smell of burning flesh meeting his nostrils. Grimmjaw held the attack, charging it hotter and hotter before unleashing it in a powerful blast that arched out across the sky, impossible to dodge.

The hollow drew his reiatsu around him, deflecting what he could of the attack while leaving his blade to take the brunt of the damage. He hadn’t expected it. Grimmjaw had super-charged his attack and knocked him back, making him fall, realizing that their roles had reversed and it was Grimmjaw that now chased him down to the buildings. Hichigo wasn’t done yet; this arrancar was familiar with Ichigo’s style, but he had no idea what he could do. The bleached hollow drew his blade, lightning-fast, unleashing a devastating getsuga tenshō towards his attacker. The black-red flash crackled, zigzagging through the air in a direct and controlled sweep that definitely caught the Espada off guard. It hit him dead on and Hichigo sealed the deal by springing up towards him, grabbing his white jacket and hurling him through the wall of a building. The crack of the arrancar’s skull on the bricks was clear and definite in the hollow’s ears. He couldn’t repress the grin that spread across his face, teeth gleaming in the low-mood lighting of the room as he followed to finish what Grimmjaw had begun.

“Heh,” he looked around what was obviously a hotel room. A plush, penthouse suite, complete with silk sheets strewn with rose petals, bubbling hot tub and champagne on ice. Someone was paying good money for the romantic setup and Hichigo couldn’t hold back the laughter at the thought that it was ironically fitting for what he had in mind. His feet scuffed across the carpet as he walked up to the arrancar, the blue-haired man trying to pull himself to his feet amid a chorus of coughing and groans of pain. “Don’t tell me yer that hurt,” Hichigo asked, toeing the other in the ribs. The arrancar’s act of pain continued before it rolled into a fluid attack that launched him to his feet, a closed-fist lashing out to catch the bleached hollow across the jaw. Hichigo reeled back as Grimmjaw pressed his attack, swinging out with his other fist and made a dive for his zanpaktou.

Hichigo caught himself after the second strike and kicked out with his heel, driving into his opponent’s solar plexus and winding him. “You promised a fight and fuck. I think the ‘fight’ is taken care of, no sense beating a dead horse, after all…” he trailed off at the idiom, the words drawing an even brighter grin to his face. “Maybe that’s not the best choice of words, since I ain’t dead. Anyways, arrancar, I’m gonna take care of the fucking this time.” He slid his toe under the flat of the arrancar’s blade and lifted it into the air. Grimmjaw muttered something through the blood in his mouth, though Hichigo didn’t bother to wait for him to spit it out and threw him across the bed before landing on top of him.

“Hmmm, nice and romantic, don’t ya think, arrancar?” he asked, aiming the tip of the blade for Grimmjaw’s shoulder. He thrust downward with all his strength, slicing through the other man’s body and literally pinning him to the bed amid a spray of blood.

“Fuck, yer a bit rougher than what I’m used to…” the Espada winced as he tried to move, his blade working against him as it ground against bone.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Hichigo knelt, crawling with predatory grace along Grimmjaw’s body until they were nose to nose. Icy blue glared hard into black-gold, though they lost some of their fire as a pale, ashen hand trailed down his body, jagged nails raking across his exposed chest and playing around the hole in his belly. That faltering expression widened Hichigo’s grin and he dug his fingers into the waistband of Grimmjaw’s hakama. The arrancar lashed out with a fierce kick, solidly connecting with the hollow’s side, though it barely moved the bleached creature. Instead, Hichigo slid off to the side, lying parallel to his prey, out of range of any further attacks and keeping his eyes, unblinking in their dominance of the indomitable arrancar.

He’d watched so many times as that same arrancar had done the same to his king, pinning him down, taking him, violating him. He’d lied in the back of Ichigo’s mind and listened to his king enjoy himself. Enjoy himself?! Why was it that Ichigo fought against him tooth and nail when it came to fighting and fucking, but would turn around and submit to this gruff, volatile creature? Was he not volatile?

His fingers tore the last of the arrancar’s clothing from the lower half of his lean, muscled frame, exposing that impressive length that Ichigo had been all-too willing to accept into his body. Hichigo broke eye contact and raked his gaze down this creature’s body. He was rigid in all the wrong places, flaccid penis lying off to the side while his torso was tightening, his muscles coiling up to do… something. The higher he looked along that beautifully muscled body, he found the colour draining away, the arrancar’s arm becoming a beautiful shade of pale as his lifeblood leaked from where he was impaled on the bed. That coiled up rage that Grimmjaw was nurturing seemed to release at that moment as Hichigo raked his gaze down, reaching out to grab that flaccid manhood and coax some life into it. The resistance exploded in a flurry of limbs, curses and promises of pain as the arrancar fought the pale ghost above him.

He fought just as Ichigo had the first time that Grimmjaw had taken him. That was the first time, before the human had learned to treat their fights as foreplay and find excitement in the draw of blood and clash of blades. The Espada had had to do all the work back then, and it was no different for Hichigo as he moved to possess Grimmjaw in the same way. The arrancar’s body arched up suddenly, a primal growl burning from somewhere deep in his chest and his face contorted in pain as he fought against the zanpaktou. His legs braced against the silk mattress, bloodied rose petals flying as he thrashed about. His arm lashed out, sharp nails hooking Hichigo across his neck, drawing blood in a magnificent spray.

The ghostly white hollow held tightly onto the Espada’s awakening arousal, fingers forming a tunnel that held him in a calloused grip. He closed his other hand around Grimmjaw’s free wrist, wrenching the flailing limb to the side and sinking his teeth around a pert nipple. The body beneath him stilled, arching towards him as he gnawed on the nub, blue tongue snaking out to lap at the blood he’d drawn. “Are ya gonna be good, then?” he asked, drawing back and licking his lips. His hand on the erection continued its task.

The arrancar bit his lip and glared, angry blue eyes burning with a desire to kill.

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend ya move around too much more,” he released the arrancar’s thick arousal and reached up to touch the hilt of the sword. He pulled it towards him, earning a grunt of pain from his captive as it moved against his wound. “That thing is sharp, you’re probably hurtin’ yerself more by thrashin’ about,” he released the sword and reached for the arrancar’s other arm. It lay dead and useless at his side, the fingers twitching ever so slightly with the effort of moving. He picked it up, threading his fingers between the arrancar’s in a faux display of tenderness. “C’mon, a bit of turnaround ain’t so bad, is it? You did this with Ichigo all the time.” He leaned over his prey, the only struggle in the free hand that continued to fight against his iron grip. His bloodied mouth grinned as he pressed it against Grimmjaw’s snarling lips in a fierce kiss. There was nothing chaste about the act; the arrancar’s feral mouth opened to accept a blue tongue inside, biting down the moment it entered. Hichigo chuckled, his scratchy, hollow laughter rolling through his throat as he kissed the arrancar, relishing the pain and blood and aggression that Grimmjaw poured out into his oral attack. He kissed and filled and overcame until his blood was coating both their tongues and then he pulled away, satisfied.

The Espada glared daggers as the hollow reached back to pump his erection, licking his lip of the blood he’d drawn. Resisting something that felt so deliciously good was difficult for him. His body relaxed against the mattress and his free hand rested limply against the bedding. It remained, balled in a fist, lying in a pool of blood and rose petals until Hichigo’s grip loosened as he bent over to bite a nipple again. His blue tongue lapped up the scar that marred the Espada’s chest, teasing and drawing a sharp gasp from his captive. It was a surreal moment of faux-surrender, lasting a brief second before Grimmjaw ripped his hand free and shot down to grab Hichigo by his hair.

The hollow stopped suckling on the arrancar’s chest, yellow eyes turning, wide and curious to the furious arrancar beneath him. “Not enjoyin’ yerself?” he asked, completely unafraid, even as he was pulled up by his hair.

Grimmjaw didn’t say anything, seeming to contemplate what sort of damage he could do with one hand. Hichigo took advantage of the pause and abandoned the arousal that was standing tall and proud from a bed of blue curls. The look in those eyes, which held malicious contemplation suddenly flashed to questioning anger. They flitted down, down along his torso to see Hichigo’s hand delving between his thighs. They widened in horrific surprise as he felt them probing around, before darting back up to look back into the hollow’s golden-black eyes. His brows remained furrowed, angrily struggling with his free hand, though Hichigo couldn’t ignore the slight way he spread his thighs for his questing fingers.

Hichigo’s grin broke across his face as he licked his lips at the thought of finally paying the arrancar back for violating his king so often. He shifted down on the bed, climbing in between the blue-haired man’s muscled thighs. They spread wider for him, inviting him in close before Grimmjaw shifted and locked his legs around Hichigo’s waist, squeezing with renewed vigor. His eyes burned with venomous rage, and it took several downward blows to his solar plexus before the arrancar was winded enough to allow the hollow to continue. Hichigo’s hand trailed from where he’d struck Grimmjaw’s ribs, finger lightly grazing around the hole in his belly, scratching with a ragged fingernail that seemed to make the arrancar jolt towards the touch. He filed that bit of information away for later and brought his hand down to his thigh again. It rose easily when he lifted it, the Espada’s knee hooking over his shoulder, hips tilting upward and giving the hollow open access to his nether regions as he lay dazed in a puddle of blood.

His hand continued moving, stroking along his thigh and pinching the tight flesh there before sinking down to his bottom. His fingers delved into the flesh, nails digging in to draw blood before he pulled his hand back to smack that tight, rounded ass. Grimmjaw pursed his lips in a frown, no words of encouragement or deterring tirade falling from them. His eyes remained to what Hichigo was doing, his free hand fisted at his side, though his expression threatened pain if he kept smacking his ass. The hollow could only snicker and move his hand along to trace along the cleft just beneath the others’ balls. He wasted no time, deciding that the teasing was over and wedged a finger between the clenching cheeks. Grimmjaw jolted away from the touch, but Hichigo continued to push a dry, probing digit in until he’d found that perfect opening that would be the centre of his focus for the next few minutes. He pushed the Espada’s thighs further apart, lifting them up, fully exposing his asshole with the tip of his finger pushed in to the first knuckle. “Just lie back and think of Hueco Mundo,” he purred, ramming his finger in the rest of the way.

“Goddamnit!” Grimmjaw finally bellowed, his ass clamping down around Hichigo’s finger, causing the hollow to laugh aloud.

“You’re pretty tight there, arrancar,” he swirled the finger around, delighting in how that dry entrance pulled along his digit. That was an understatement, the tightness was incredible and he could barely contain the jolt of arousal that shot through him. Soon his dick would be in place of his finger, being milked for all it was worth.

He looked back up with burning yellow-black eyes to gauge the pain he was causing. The guttural moans of protest got him so hot; he wanted to watch those feral lips curl up to utter the delicious sounds. He was met with something he hadn’t expected; lust.

Their eyes locked and the Espada shifted his hips down, driving the hollow’s finger deeper inside of him. The dry entrance pulled on his digit and Hichigo found his jaw going slack as he watched the feral lust burning in those icy blue eyes. “Heh, ya like it rough, arrancar?”

Grimmjaw’s lip quirked upwards and he huffed, “When I get outta here, you’ll see how rough I like it!”

Hichigo licked his lips. “Big words.”

Grimmjaw’s eyes went wide as a new finger met its brother inside him, the glint of excitement fading as he registered the new pain. The fingers twisted inside him and a delightful shudder spread through his body before he ground down onto them as well. “It’ll take something bigger to hurt me, freak.” His tongue snaked outside his mouth, wetting his lips as he spread his legs further apart in an open defiance.

Hichigo was up for the challenge, in more than one way. He pushed those knees up tight against Grimmjaw’s chest, exposing that rosebud to him as he swished a glob of spit around in his mouth. He pursed his lips, bringing the gleaming saliva to dance on the end of his tongue before releasing it to fall directly onto that awaiting swirl of muscle. The entrance sprang to life at the warm droplet and Hichigo was quick to plant three fingers to push in after it. “Since you seem to be enjoying this, I’ll move along, then.” He leaned down, spitting again on his fingers as they roughly moved in and out of the constricting asshole.

Grimmjaw’s howls for him to stop rang throughout the small room. His body resisted the invasion, arching from the mattress in violent convulsions as his patience ran out and he fought to free himself of the violation. With a final growl, he wrenched up against the zanpaktou that had him pinned to the mattress, tearing the blade through the frame and ripping it free from his body.

His muscles contracted, snapping him forward, bringing him face to face with the hollow. He latched onto an ashen lip, biting down as the three fingers continued to move inside him. The moment felt raw and heated, both eyes open and staring into each other through the violent kiss and probing digits. However, instead of pushing away, Grimmjaw’s good hand clamped down onto Hichigo’s shoulder, pulling him closer, his fingers digging in to draw blood as his teeth did the same. He clenched around the invading digits that scissored inside him, spreading him wide even though his ass attempted to clamp shut on them. With a harsh thrust, Grimmjaw pushed the hollow away, knocking him back onto the bed and quickly tried to crawl on top of him. Blood leaked down his injured arm, good one propping him up as he hovered over the white being, dripping red along his lean frame. The position was precarious and easily thrown off as Hichigo pushed back again, sitting up with the arrancar straddling his lap.

“Nuh-huh. King may love to ride, but I’m gonna be the one takin’ care o’ ya,” Hichigo purred in his rasping, grating voice, digging his fingers into the wound in Grimmjaw’s shoulder and driving him back. “Looks like I cut a few too many tendons and muscles. You can’t fuck me without use of yer arms, arrancar.”

Grimmjaw’s eyes blazed at the words, the fingers in his wound burning pain, but pain wasn’t enough to dampen his spirit. He snapped forward again, head-butting the hollow and knocking him back. “I don’t need both my arms to own you, freak.”

The fingers wrenched free from his body as Hichigo fell back, bouncing against the mattress. Grimmjaw looked down his nose at the stunned creature, proving his point by sliding his good hand down his body, seeking out his insatiable hardness that twitched excitedly at the violence. He watched Hichigo through hard eyes, a sneer lighting on his lips as he tried to grip himself. His injured limb swung at his side as he began to pump erratically, his balance thrown off as the creature beneath him began to push back again. He cursed. He struggled to keep his balance and thrust into his gripping fingers, cursing Hichigo knocked him off balance again. Damnit, he could barely jerk off, let alone dominate the hollow. With a sneer, he changed tactics, moving forward to crawl on top of Hichigo and quickly disrobe the important part of his ashen body. The pale, grey cock sprang forward the moment his hakama fell to the side, throbbing with desire and a few pearls of anticipation leaking down the head. Grimmjaw sucked in a breath through his nose, looking up with distaste to the one lying before him before swishing a healthy glob of saliva to the front of his mouth and spitting it out to glide down the hollow’s bobbing dick.

Hichigo watched with wide-eyed anticipation, his arms splayed out to the side from where he’d fallen. His vision felt hazy, nearly blinded by the throbbing ache his nose, though not enough that he couldn’t witness the vision of Grimmjaw spreading spit along his shaft. It was like a hazy, throbbing dream; leaving him sprawled out on the bed as Grimmjaw moved above him. He could only watch the blue-haired Espada crawl on top of him. He distrusted the sudden eagerness the arrancar was displaying, but could barely resist as the other positioned himself above Hichigo’s bobbing dick. What could he do? Grimmjaw was moving down, thrusting himself down hard as his ass tightened around him. Tightened in resistance, and yet opening to devour his straining erection. A soundless, echoing moan met the hollow’s ears and he was dimly aware that it was his voice. His eyes were locked with icy blue, resentful and lusty, bitter at being forced to take it up the ass, though he couldn’t say anything against it as he was the one lowering himself onto Hichigo’s eager prick.

The somewhat loosened pucker gave way after a few seconds, parting with slow acceptance until the mushroomed tip had finally passed the ring of muscle. Hichigo attempted to thrust upwards, uttering a few expletives through gritted teeth when the arrancar moved away from him. His hands shot out to instinctively claw at Grimmjaw’s hips and pull him down onto his hardness, that welcoming heat a heady intoxication that lit his senses afire, making him blindly lust for more.

Grimmjaw’s good arm was weak against Hichigo’s two fully functioning limbs. His injured appendage hung useless at his side as he struggled to pull the fingers away from his hips. Five fingers working against ten, prying lusty digits from his body in a futile attempt to escape, failing as the hollow’s heated desire impaled him. He soon gave up on prying the fingers from him and took a different, more violent route. Fighting one-handed had never deterred the arrancar from a brawl, and he threw his entire weight behind his elbow as he drove it deep into Hichigo’s solar plexus knocking the wind out of him. There was an audible exhalation from the hollow and he reeled, loosening the hands from Grimmjaw’s hips. The arrancar leaned forward to smack Hichigo across the face with his elbow for good measure before he sat back, seating himself fully on Hichigo’s member in his own time.

He ground down, the pain a dull throb inside him, definitely there but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what hurt.

The pleasure was definite and very centralized around his entrance, then further in and everywhere that Hichigo’s dick was touching. It set off his nerves, reaching new levels of pleasure with every inch that he sank onto the shaft. His mind reeled as that deliciously hot cock throbbed inside him and he swore he could feel every vein and beat of the other’s inhuman heart. He rolled his hips a fraction, feeling the shift inside of him, swiveling to stroke his insides with that delicious prick. The stretch was delicious, pushing him apart and making him feel fuller than he’d thought Hichigo’s dick could. It felt bigger than it looked and he let out a throaty growl when he felt the hollow’s balls pressing against his backside. Finally, finally filling him. Hichigo was fully inside and Grimmjaw sneered down his nose at the recovering being beneath him, grinding down as if to say, ‘is that all you got? I could take more!’ His smug regard was short-lived as the hollow’s hand shot forward towards his face. He drew back a fraction as bleached fingers curled around his hollow-mask, its inhuman teeth cutting into white fingers that wrenched him down. In one swift movement, they pulled Grimmjaw face-to-face with the hollow beneath him.

“Ya get me so hot when you’re violent,” he cackled in a throaty laugh, jamming his hips up to drive into the body above him. A blue tongue snaked out to lap along Grimmjaw’s mouth, trailing over the hollow mask before pulling back to leave a trail of blood from where it cut him.

Grimmjaw’s eyes lit up to a dangerous glint, “If you don’t get your hands offa me, I’m gonna have ta cero your dick to nothing.”

Hichigo snorted, “Cero through your ass, arrancar? What a fucking delightful perversion!”

The arrancar smiled and licked at his lips, tasting the hollow’s tongue as he raised his hips a fraction before dropping them down on his lap again. “When my arms are healed, I think I’ll come back to find ya, freak.”

“Oh? You want me ta fuck you again?” He thrust upwards, Grimmjaw slammed his forehead down, bloodying Hichigo’s nose. The hollow released the arrancar’s mask, his hands flying down to those hips again as they found their rhythm. He braced his feet on the bed, jamming his pelvis upwards as the Espada’s powerful thighs carried him up and thrust back down again. Their bodies twitched and shuddered from the exertion – from the pleasure – their pants and moans coming in breathy gasps as the feeling in their lower halves overrode all other priorities. Their bodies glistened with bloody sweat, soaking through the silk sheets, pooling around the rose petals that didn’t fit their coupling whatsoever, but looked so beautiful as they floated in a pool of red liquid that leaked down the Espada’s torso. Hichigo’s face was bloodied and sore, contributing his own share of crimson life to the pools around his head as he watched the look of concentration on the Espada’s face. Hichigo couldn’t repress the laughter that rolled through him, forcing him to jerk his hips upwards in a violent thrust, causing the arrancar’s prick to bounce excitedly in the air between them.

Hichigo groaned wantonly in that throaty, rasping voice as the Espada’s body gripped him in blinding pleasure. He moved his hands upwards, abandoning Grimmjaw’s hips to trail inwards, ragged nails scratching around the outside of the hole in his belly. I was black on the inside, clearly showing a path straight through to the other side, though the edges were dark and empty. He pushed his fingers in, curling them around the edges to play with the indescribable flesh on his insides.

“The fuck are ya doing?” Grimmjaw ground down, fully seating himself. “If you wanna feel me up, try jerking me off. Fuck, I can’t do shit with my arms.”

Hichigo laughed and prodded once more into that mysterious opening with his fingers before moving them down to familiar territory, taking the arrancar’s penis in a firm grip.

The air seemed to still between them, with Hichigo’s prick embedded firmly in Grimmjaw’s body, his fingers gripping the Espada’s arousal and blood coating both their bodies in dark, red splashes. It was a strange sensation that gripped both of them, the act eerily familiar, as both had experienced something similar before. Grimmjaw had already established his relationship with Ichigo – as violent and unaffectionate as it was – and Hichigo recognized the positions they were in then; the blue-haired arrancar on top of him, bearing down with that heated expression, leaving him with the burning need to make that creature know the difference between he and his king.

Grimmjaw’s thoughts ran towards being annoyed. His ass clenched around the prick seated so deeply inside of him. He’d seen that cock – at least it looked just like thatcock – many times before when he’d had Ichigo sprawled out beneath him. The ruddy and flushed image of it had been the one bobbing between them then. He ground his hips down, feeling the incredible thickness filling him and made a mental promise to find Ichigo later when this ashen creature wasn’t in control of his body. He raised himself up, feeing the head nearly popping free before dropping himself down into Hichigo’s lap once more.

He could only keep fucking.

His thoughts ran to the obscure, the obscene and still, despite his brain screaming for things to be different, he could only pull himself up and snap himself back down. Rhythmically. Forcefully. Wantonly. Something inside him was turning. Winding up tightly, like a toy soldier who is over-wound and forgotten. He could only think in brief flashes of coherency as his ass was filled and hands that were not his own pulled on his abused cock. He braced himself on Hichigo’s chest, raising himself and dropping down. He could see the stark contrast of several blood spatters on the pale creature’s skin. He swiveled his hips. It called to him, his tongue snaking out to taste it, taste the blood staining the hollow’s skin. It might have been his; it might have been the creatures. His hungry lips descended to lick at the crimson lifeblood, smearing it around and lapping at the metallic flavour. His hips stilled as he latched onto a dusky nipple, grey against the ashen skin. His teeth clamped down moments later as he gnawed on the solid nub of flesh and that pale body moved against him, sitting up and crushing him tightly against it.

Grimmjaw bit down harder, moving his mouth up to the creature’s throat to mark him with a fanged mouth. Hichigo’s hands moved from his cock and latched onto the arrancar’s shoulders, pulling him down against his straining prick.

“So, are ya gonna do the work now, Whitey?” Grimmjaw drew back, challenging eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

“Guess I’m gonna have to if I wanna get off any time soon, arrancar. Ya fuck funny.”

“Well, that’s probably because I can’t use my ARMS!” he tried emphasizing this by moving his injured limb around. His complaint turned to a moan as Hichigo pulled him down, crushing his cock between them and driving that solid intrusion even deeper inside him, striking against his prostate. “Fu-fu-fuck…”

Hichigo said nothing, instead leaning up to dip his blue tongue inside the gash in the Espada’s shoulder. That drew a string of expletives from the arrancar, though they were growled with such ardor that it didn’t sound like much of a threat. His teeth found the edge of the cut, biting the flesh there and pulling away. Grimmjaw snapped back, removing his injured shoulder from the abusive mouth, earning him a rattling grin as Hichigo began moving inside him again. The hollow gripped his shoulders with crushing strength, driving solidly into him.

“Mmmm, you’re tighter than my king.”

“Yeh, oh fuck yeah… you mean Ichigo?” the arrancar panted. “So, heh, you’re fucking him too? Why am I not surprised?”

Hichigo dug his fingers into the Espada, growling deep in his throat. “He’s my king, arrancar. The king rides his horse.”

That brought a cocky grin to Grimmjaw’s abused and bloodied lips. “Heh, guess I’m your king if I’m riding you too, eh?”

Hichigo didn’t miss a beat, thrusting deeply into that greedy body, fingers drawing blood. “Naw, you’re more like a queen,” he purred with a vicious blue grin.

“Fuck you,” Grimmjaw tried lashing out with his good arm, but Hichigo held him tightly.

The hollow leaned forward, dropping the arrancar to the bed while keeping a tight grip on his hips. “I don’t think so. My king might let you fuck him, but I’m nothing like him.” He snapped his hips forward, angling his cock down, eliciting a growl of abandon that told him he’d found the right spot. He kept his hips pressed forward, holding his cock against that pleasure button deep within the arrancar as he leaned forward, pressing their bodies together as he drew up close to Grimmjaw’s face, contorted with a scowl of pleasure.

“Maybe ya just haven’t been fucked properly,” Grimmjaw grunted, locking his legs around the other’s pale waist.

Hichigo began grinding within him. “Sounds like ya wanna do this again, arrancar… oh, fuck…” His body jerked in short, tight movements that ground against the Espada’s entrance.

Grimmjaw squeezed his thighs, clamping down on that invading length and gripping his own with his good hand. He could see the fire burning deep in the hollow’s eyes, felt the throbbing need inside him, crackling with the oncoming release.

He was close too, thank god. He squeezed the tip of his dick, roughly running his thumb and index finger down before giving up and making a fist.

Hichigo’s head fell forward, sweat-soaked brow pressed to the arrancar’s collarbone. He was beyond words. He was beyond thought. The little sounds coming from him were raspy and hitching on some scratchy moan that he couldn’t seem to stop vocalizing. His hips began jerked forward in shorter, erratic bursts. Blood was pumping through his form, diverted towards the one organ that felt every touch, every scrape, every change in temperature as it sank deep into that constricting heat. In, out, in, in, further in, fucking deeper inside until his lungs let loose an inhuman scream and his body shuddered violently.

Damnit, why was he enjoying himself so much? He felt the hollow’s body convulsing above him, Hichigo’s throaty cry rasping in blind ecstasy. The sound echoed the feeling that was churning in his guts. His fingers faltered along his cock, digging in to the spot that always drove him over the edge and he felt the beginnings of his orgasm. Grimmjaw could feel the build-up inside of him. Like a heavy weight of snow finally giving way from its perch on a mountain summit, crashing along the slopes, wiping out everything in its path. He grit his teeth, biting back the cry that instead choked in his throat. He was seeing white, bleached white bliss. His thighs tightened around that thin waist, pulling that delicious length deep into his body while his orgasm possessed him. Even with his injured arm, it was all he could do to keep from crushing the hollow’s body into pieces. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t think. The feeling was enough to erase all the things that pissed him off and replace it with nothingness.

He snorted when the feel of Hichigo withdrawing from his body brought him back to reality. He felt the absence of that length; a wetness leaking from him that he quickly slid of the bed to take care of, feeling it dribble down his leg as he went. How undignified.

“Yer not too bad, arrancar,” came the throaty call from the bedroom as he was cleaning himself up. “I might have to come out more often when you’re visitin’ my king.”

Grimmjaw frowned and poked his head from the bathroom. “Don’t think I’ll let ya do this again, ya freak. Things’ll be different…” He reached down to pull his hakama back into place, frowning at where they’d been ripped. When he looked back to the bed, the ashen hollow was still lying there, half-dressed and propped up on his elbow as he regarded the Espada.

The fire in his golden eyes danced in a conspiratory way, lighting the black with lusty ideas that made even Grimmjaw shudder. “I was thinkin’ more like we could both take a stab at my king… or we could all meet and figure something out, just like this time.” He reached over to recover the arrancar’s zanpaktou from the pool of blood on the bed.

Grimmjaw caught his weapon as it sailed through the air. He managed to re-sheathe it and make himself presentable with one arm as he mulled the thought over in his head. The idea of fucking the both of them tugged at the edge of his mouth, setting his grin to rival the toothy smirk of his hollow mask. “Figure something out, hollow. Until then, I’m gonna keep takin’ him.”

Hichigo smirked at that, a satisfied sound of agreeance breaking from his throat and he sprang to his feet. “I think I’m gonna like this arrangement, Espada,” he chirped in an empty voice. “I’ve already got some ideas…”

Grimmjaw sneered at that, the look seeming to agree with the hollow. He watched Hichigo turn and leap through the hole they’d arrived through, leaving him alone in the ruined penthouse suite. The water in the hot tub bubbled merrily, undisturbed by their encounter, though the same could not be said for the bed. He turned from the wreckage to bandage his wound, images of what their next encounter might entail. His twisted, blood-starved mind was already forming a plan for how he would approach Ichigo next. The hollow would always be there inside the orange-haired shinigami, watching his every move. He would be waiting for the opportunity to somehow break free and join in. If he played his cards right he could continue with his fucking-arrangement with Ichigo, and pay that hollow bastard back for his injuries, with interest.

~End Jack of Swords~