Title: Waiting
Author: Aleia (aviss)
Pairing: Grimmjow/Ichigo
Rating/Warnings: R - wanking and violence.
Theme: #1 - Shinigami
Words: 591
Author notes: for bleach_15




There were many things Grimmjow Jaggerjack was, but patient was not one of them. He had already gotten into trouble before because of that, and it was clear that if he dared to disobey Aizen-sama's orders once again it would cost him more than just his arm.

It didn't mean he had to like it, though.

The white walls of his room and the tall window showing all that open space had never felt so stifling and claustrophobic to him. Just being inside it waiting, instead of out there hunting, irritated him.

He was there, in Hueco Mundo. He had gone after that woman and was now heading toward Grimmjow.

For a moment Grimmjow wondered what would happen if some other arrancar got to him first.

No, that would never happen. Ichigo would cut down anyone that came between him and his goal. The healing woman--Ichigo still had the idea that the healing woman was his goal. Grimmjow would be more than happy to show him how very wrong he was.

Oh yes. He would show him. He would teach the shinigami a lesson he would never forget, and this time no one was going to interrupt them. This time everyone else was too busy fighting their own fights, and there were no masked fuckers around to save the day.

He closed his eyes, laying down on his bed. Waiting.

Just thinking about their previous fights was enough to arouse him. Kurosaki Ichigo, his fire, his reckless way of fighting, his cockiness, his darkness--all of that appealed to Grimmjow in a way that surprised him. It was the first time he had ever felt more than contempt for a shinigami. He thought about Ichigo as he saw him last time--bloody, beaten, but still defiant--and he felt something stirring in him.

Amused, he moved his hand down. Lust, not the blood type, was not a feeling he was used to, and Grimmjow found interesting that Ichigo was able to get that response from him.

He closed his hand around his cock, stroking slowly. Behind his closed lids, Kurosaki Ichigo glared darkly, his spiky orange hair stained in red blood, the same blood that covered most of his face, his ridiculous mask broken at his feet. Grimmjow's hand moved faster, a soft moan escaping his lips.

We haven't finish our fight! Ichigo was saying in his mind, and Grimmjow would agree. They hadn't finish. Without interruptions he would resume he fight and he would get rid of that pesky female shinigami once for all.

And then, he would focus all his attention in Ichigo. Crush him. Cut him. Make him bleed. Until Ichigo's vision was red and blue, and the only thing in his eyes was Grimmjow and his own helplessness.

His breath was ragged at that point, his hand stroking fast and hard while the pleasure mounted.

And he would then rip that stupid bankai cloak of his, the bandages and everything covering Ichigo's flesh and he would feast on him. Biting and scratching and taking, taking--his climax was sharp and intense, and Grimmjow couldn't remember the last time he had felt sexual desire and pleasure like that.

Opening his eyes, he looked at his hand, now wet and dirty, and smiled cruelly.

Maybe there was more than one lesson he should teach the shinigami. It would be a waste just killing him.

Still smiling, Grimmjow closed his eyes again.

He didn't like to wait, but at least it gave him time to prepare the lesson.