[AIM log/completed]
WHO: Grimmjow (stradapanthera) and Ulquiorra (sfigato_quarto)
WHAT: Fighting. AND GRIMM WILL BE BACK WITH A VENGEANCE. >[ Lots of violence. A SMOOCHIE.
WHERE: Outside somewhere.
WHEN: The 26th.
Grimmjow was pissed off. Really fucking pissed off. He didn't know how fucking long it had been since he'd started searching for Ulquiorra through the city, but it had been long enough. Time was being fucking wasted because the fucking asshole had decided to be a fucking asshole. But he was determined as hell to find the bastard and show him what happened when he stole Grimmjow's prey. He was going to break Ulquiorra's neck first, just enough so that it paralyzed but didn't kill him. Then he was going to break all of his fucking fingers, then his wrists, then his arms. Maybe he'd find something else to fucking break, too.
Cracking his knuckles in aggravation, Grimmjow slammed the toe of his boot into a trash can and sent it flying into a building where it hit the wall with a sound too loud to be made at night. Anyone who wanted to fucking dare tell him to be quiet would get a fist to the fucking teeth.
Ulquiorra knew that this rash man was fool. But he never expected him to be this much of a fool. The best this man could have done was lay low after a death threat such as Ulquiorra's. But he obviously did not possess the brains to do so. He also made it painfully easy for Ulquiorra to find him. Sure, Ulquiorra did have enhanced eyesight, but even a school kid could find this man. Everywhere he went, Grimmjow had been kicking things, and knocking over whatever seemed to be in his reach, just like his latest victim of the trashcan. It was childish.
Ulquiorra watched Grimmjow from the roof of the building where the trashcan had made contact. He dangled his skinny legs over the edge of the roof, pale hands gripping the edge. His condescending eyes were filled with cool disgust for the creature on the street below.
"Are you done?" he said, not too loud, but enough for his voice to carry to the street level. The area around them was quiet now that the noise from the trashcan had faded away.
Grimmjow stood completely still when he heard that voice. The same fucking voice that had left him that voicemail and the same fucking voice he'd heard when he first met Ulquiorra. What the fuck gave him the right to be watching him? He'd just spent too fucking long searching high and low for the bastard when he'd been there all along.
That dumbass thought he was so fucking high and mighty when he was nothing but a shithead. If he didn't quit the shit with keeping his head so high, Grimmjow would force him to bring his nose back down by breaking it the fuck off of his face.
Grimmjow unsheathed his sword and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to look up for the fucker. And there he fucking was, sitting on a roof, watching him like a stalker. "Yo!" he called up with a wide grin, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "You hiding up there like a fucking coward, you piece of shit? Why don't you get the fuck down here and fight me like a man?"
Ulquiorra just calmly regarded the other man in silence. He was not impressed. Ulquiorra had been there for at least two hours, just following Grimmjow. This man's awareness of his surroundings appeared to be very flawed. Ulquiorra simply smirked down at the man below him. It was an eerie sort of expression.
"That depends," Ulquiorra begun, his voice flat and cold. "Did you think about what you had to offer me in return?"
So the fucker had been serious? Ulquiorra really thought he had a fucking right to ask someone to pay him in return for fighting? Was he some kind of fucking joke? Grimmjow laughed as he reached behind him with the hand not holding onto the sword, fingers grasping the gun he kept in the back of his pants. If he had to shoot the asshole off the roof, he would.
"How about I give you a fucking pat on the back?" Grimmjow offered. "If you've still even got a fucking back by the time I'm through with you. If not, I'll think of something else. Let's save all the boring shit for later."
Of course Ulquiorra was dead serious. He always was. It was not like he was going to put his neck on the line just for some stranger's idea of 'fun'. Ulquiorra had better things to do. He had a job that required that he remain in top physical condition. Why ruin that over some angry guy who could not even keep quiet while trying to track someone down?
Ulquiorra sighed, his large, eerie eyes closing in annoyance. “If you insist.” In a second, Ulquiorra has drawn his own gun and shot a warning shot that scathed the skin of the hand reaching back for Grimmjow's gun. “But let us keep these out of it,” he said, returning his gun to the inside pocket of his black suit coat. He took his own sword from where he had placed it on the roof, letting Grimmjow see he had his own weapon and would keep his word not to draw his gun again.
Grimmjow's eyes widened just slightly at the bullet that grazed his hand. It wasn't a pain that bothered him--he wasn't a fucking baby. He just hadn't thought Ulquiorra would be able to see what he was doing. It was fucking dark outside and they weren't exactly right next to each other. But Grimmjow removed his hand from his gun anyway, putting it into the air to show that it was empty. No fucking problem. Grimmjow preferred using his sword anyway, but you couldn't live in this city without owning a few guns.
"Then get the fuck down here so I can reach you. Or do you plan on making me come all the way up there?" he asked, impatient to run Ulquiorra through over and over again until that skinny body had been sliced into ten.
Ulquiorra could see Grimmjow just as clearly as if it had been day. He was used to the night. He felt the most comfortable in it. It was his element. But he did admit that his enhanced eyesight might have had something to do with it. Ulquiorra continued to watch Grimmjow carefully.
"You are the one that wishes to fight me so badly. Why should I exert effort?"
"Tch." Grimmjow was going to kick this bastard's fucking ass so hard that Ulquiorra would still be feeling it even after he died. Sword in hand, he lunged forward much faster than a normal human would, slammed one foot down to get him off the ground, and easily flipped onto the roof. The second he was close enough to Ulquiorra he swung out his sword for the bastard's back, not even waiting to actually land on the roof.
If the fucker wanted to die so badly, then Grimmjow was perfectly willing to help him get there. After Ulquiorra had stolen his job, he wasn't going to fucking let him get out of this alive. You didn't take what belonged to Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.
Ulquiorra waited calmly for Grimmjow too meet him. He was not afraid of the other man whatsoever. He did not get 'worked up' over fights. They did not even make him blink anymore. The color and smell of blood were so common to him now. He shut his eyes, shifting his body slightly so the blade passed him by completely. The eerie eyes opened again, the same primal, animalistic blood thirst showing in his eyes for an instant. He slid into a crouching position, and hooked his long leg across and into Grimmjow's stomach while the other man was still in the air. He followed up with a switch to the second leg, the full force of the turning of his hips slamming his weight into Grimmjow's shoulder, sending him off the roof before he had even set foot on it.
Grimmjow felt the first impact connect with his stomach and then the second to his shoulder. Both sent him flying straight into the ground where he crashed into a stack of garbage cans, denting the metal as he landed and sending all kinds of shit flying everywhere. If the cans hadn't been there, he probably would've made a crater in the ground.
Shock was the first thing Grimmjow felt, rather than the throbbing pain where he'd been struck. Grimmjow knew he was fast, but he'd never met anyone faster. The fuckhead had moved maybe half an inch so the blade wouldn't touch him. He hadn't even given Grimmjow's feet a chance to hit the roof.
Snarling and ignoring whatever pain had arisen, Grimmjow kicked his way out of the mangled cans and ran right up the side of the building to the roof. Only this time he avoided Ulquiorra so he could at least get onto the roof before being thrown right back down.
"Is that all you've fucking got?" Grimmjow laughed, facing Ulquiorra from a safe distance. "You have to kick me off the roof like a little girl keeping her brother off her fucking bed? You're a piss of an assassin if that's your fucking best."
Once the attack was completed, Ulquiorra settled back to his sitting position on the edge of the roof. He just stared down at Grimmjow again, waiting for the other man to get up. That certainly was not the end. It couldn't be. Not after all of the boasting Grimmjow had done. He had to be made of more than just that.
Ulquiorra's eyes shifted over to the part of the roof where Grimmjow now stood. But his eyes were the only thing that shifted. He sighed again. "Afraid of me now?" he asked flatly. Grimmjow was keeping his distance this time. Fear was good. Being too overconfident got you killed. Maybe this creature could learn if the lessons were physical. No matter. Ulquiorra could teach him. "Apparently my tactics are working. You do not seem as eager to come at me as before." Ulquiorra turned his head then, a dark smirk on his lips.
"You think I'm fucking scared of you?" Grimmjow roared with laughter and set his sword over one shoulder again. "I'm waiting for you to get off your fucking ass and come at me with all you've got. If I want to fight an asshole who's going to do nothing but sit, I can go somewhere else. I didn't look all fucking night for you to watch you do nothing."
Grimmjow wanted a fight. He wanted a real fucking fight that would make his blood race and his heart pound until he was high off the feeling of it. For that to happen he needed Ulquiorra to get off his worthless ass and come at him like a real man would. All he was fucking doing was staying in the same spot and it was aggravating Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra blinked. "Yes, I do," he stated. Ulquiorra raised one eyebrow. "Why would I waste 'all that I've got' on the likes of you? Minimal movement will do until you prove I must do otherwise." Ulquiorra went back to looking off of the roof to the other houses and buildings that made up the nightscape. He was starting to think this really hadn't been worth his trouble. "Then go ahead. You were the one who wanted to fight me so badly that you searched most of the night for me. You obviously have nothing better to do with your time."
Ulquiorra ran a pale hand through his dark hair, giving away signs of his boredom. "But, if you truly wish it..." He stood, resting his sheathed sword on his shoulder. "I will end this quickly."
Grimmjow wrinkled his nose with distaste. The bastard still talked a lot of shit and all he'd done was thrown Grimmjow off of the roof. It didn't take a fucking genius to be able to work out a trick like that. He'd just have to teach the bastard a lesson. Grinning as he righted his sword once more, Grimmjow shot forward, using his speed and agility so it was like a running cat.
If Ulquiorra thought he could be beaten easily just because he'd been tossed to the ground, then he had another thing coming to him. Grimmjow had lost one fight before and it had only made him stronger. This fight wasn't one he was going to lose. And Ulquiorra didn't believe him, so he'd need to force him to. Then he'd fucking rip his eyes right out of his head.
Ulquiorra waited. He waited until Grimmjow was close. Very close. He did for each of his victims. He had to be right near them, be able to hear their heart beat, their breathing. But it was also easier to inflict wounds this close. Ulquiorra's body suddenly fell into a fighting position, and with lightning speed, he had spun another kick around, and slammed his heel into the side of Grimmjow's neck. It would have been a kick in a spot that would have rendered most men unconscious, but because of the bones on his face, and whatever other alterations to Grimmjow's body, it only managed to make the other man lose his balance. Ulquiorra followed it up by stepping hard onto the back on Grimmjow's neck, continuing in the direction he had kicked him in order to slam him into the surface of the roof.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Grimmjow wasn't going to be able to land a single hit if he couldn't get Ulquiorra to stand the fuck still. The bastard was too fast. Grimmjow was fast, too, but he was also bigger and heavier than Ulquiorra, who was fucking tiny in comparison. It'd make sense that he'd be able to move more quickly and easily than Grimmjow.
Grimmjow slammed a hand onto the roof to keep from falling completely face-first and he used that momentum to flip himself over immediately and used his legs to wrap around Ulquiorra's and yank him back down with him. Fuck if he was going to let the asshole beat the shit out of him just because he wasn't shaped like a dainty woman.
Ulquiorra was quite small. But that was not completely unusual, he was quite a bit younger than the other man. He also thought himself a bit more skilled. He had been trained after all in the best methods of combat for his size while Grimmjow seemed to have only learned by charging straight head in street brawls. Strategy was probably only some vague concept to the other man.
But Ulquiorra's big emerald eyes widened in surprise as Grimmjow took out his legs. Now that was unexpected. Ulquiorra crashed to the surface of the roof and began to roll towards the edge. He slid to a stop on his hands and knees, his ego bruised more than his elbows and knees. He swore under his breath, and got to his feet, dusting off his suit coat and his pants.
Now that was more like it. It went to show that Ulquiorra wasn't all he made himself out to be. It meant he was vulnerable and could get his ass kicked--it was only a matter of being able to take him by surprise each time in different ways. The only problem was Grimmjow didn't exactly strategize his fights. He went in, beat the shit out of the other person, and left laughing. All that took was sheer strength.
Grimmjow righted himself with a grin, pleased that he'd finally been able to get some kind of hit in on the bastard. "Catch you by fucking surprise?" he cracked. "Bet you thought you were some kind of fucking god, didn't you? Thought you'd get away without a single fucking scratch."
Ulquiorra was vulnerable. But he would be damned if he ever showed that side to anyone. Ever. Let alone right now. Grimmjow had gotten lucky. That was all. Sheer strength would only get you so far in the end. All that mattered was that Ulquiorra out-thought Grimmjow, and that looked like a simple task.
"Luck. That is all it was, I assure you," Ulquiorra replied, evenly. Even though he had been thrown to the ground, Ulquiorra's expression remained completely unchanged. He did not have the appearance of a man shaken from his throne. That was because he wasn't shaken at all. "I knew I would not get away completely scratch-free...which is why I hope you are still thinking of my reward." Ulquiorra smirked then, holding up the sword that he had grasped in his hand the entire time. "Until then, let us get serious."
"I've been fucking serious since I got here," Grimmjow snarled. "You're the fuck who's been prancing all over the rooftop like a fucking schoolgirl." And it was Ulquiorra who had refused to clash swords. The idiot liked jumping all over like he was scared to fight. And that wasn't Grimmjow's problem. "Why don't you try keeping your fucking feet on the ground this time?"
Nonetheless, Grimmjow lifted his sword again, still aggravated that Ulquiorra was being such a pain in the ass about fighting. This time when Grimmjow went in to slash the asshole to pieces, he kept a close watch on Ulquiorra so that he'd be ready for any more fucking prancing about that he felt like doing.
"Hmm. You mean when you fell off the roof? That looked very serious," Ulquiorra taunted, emotionlessly. Ulquiorra did not appreciate all the comments about how girly he looked to the other man. If Ulquiorra was as heavy as Grimmjow, he was sure that he would be just as slow, and just as useless. Besides, his ability to fit into whatever disguise his job called for was also very useful at times when one could not get close to a target on the street. "If you wish," Ulquiorra said, coldly. He could beat Grimmjow without his feet, no problem.
Ulquiorra simply side stepped, and brought his sword down on Grimmjow's, putting all his weight and force into the hit, hoping that he could lodge Grimmjow's sword as deeply into the roof as possible. He didn't even bother to draw the blade. There was no point.
"Tch." Grimmjow didn't care that he'd been thrown off the roof. Any cuts and bruises would heal later. Right now Ulquiorra thought he could be fucking stronger than him, and that wasn't fucking acceptable. Because Grimmjow wasn't going to let the smug bastard overrule him in strength and speed.
As soon as Ulquiorra's sword came down on his with the other bastard's weight, Grimmjow pulled his own sword up, using his strength to keep his sword free of the roof. He was able to yank both of their swords up so that they were caught between their two bodies. If Ulquiorra's hands slipped from his sword, he was going to lose that pretty head. And to try to make that happen, Grimmjow held onto his sword with one hand and swung his other fist for Ulquiorra's face.
Ulquiorra knew that there was no way to out do Grimmjow when it came to physical strength. It was impossible. Ulquiorra was a tricky and calculating creature, however, and there were many other ways to deal with Grimmjow. He regretted the promise of not using his feet, for they were his favored method of attack, even over the quick and clean kill that his gun could give him. He did not much like his hands as weapons.
Ulquiorra shifted his weight so he was out of Grimmjow's strike range and slid his own sword along Grimmjow's, turning his body as he did so to remain guarded. If Grimmjow wanted his sword to come back up, that was exactly what was going to happen. Without warning, Ulquiorra shifted his weight completely and brought the sword up suddenly. It travelled across his body with a wave before it changed course and made clean contact with the side of the base of Grimmjow's neck. All of it happened in a second. Ulquiorra knew that Grimmjow was well wrought with muscles, but a shot to the pressure point around that area still had to make the most heavy set of men's knees turn into jelly, if even for a moment.
And Grimmjow did feel his knees weaken as that sheathed sword slammed into the side of his neck. It didn't exactly hurt. It was one of the fucking strangest feelings that had ever come across him. Everything beneath him suddenly gave out like he had no control over his legs and he fell. But he managed to throw himself back so that he wouldn't fall on top of Ulquiorra and onto a hidden weapon.
Fortunately for Grimmjow, he'd been in enough fights to know he needed to use every part of his body possible. Managing to gather enough strength in his right leg, he kicked it out at one of Ulquiorra's to knock him off balance. And, taking that into account, he withdrew three daggers from his pocket and flung them all at once toward Ulquiorra's body.
Ulquiorra knew that it was far from over, but it gave him a little time while Grimmjow's body had to recover. Ulquiorra was already a step ahead of Grimmjow, having cleared himself of the area directly around Grimmjow so there was no chance of the other man falling on him. Being pinned under Grimmjow's body would probably mean game over.
Ulquiorra, in the heat of the moment, forgot his promise and jumped, executing a well-placed kick directly at Grimmjow's ankle. But that was not all, while he was in the air, he perceived the daggers flying at him. Those weren't as easy with which to deal. He managed to get two of them with a swing of his sword while still in the air, but he couldn't afford to worry about the third one since he was more concerned with landing in a good position. Land he did, close enough to drop his foot on Grimmjow's neck and push down. The dagger fell to the roof with a clank to the surface of the roof like a discarded toy, even if it had made contact with Ulquiorra's arm. Ulquiorra pushed his foot down a little more, and drew his sword, placing that at Grimmjow's neck instead, leaning down to look the wild creature in his chaotic blue eyes.
"Are we done now?" He was clearly in a position to take Grimmjow's head, nothing in his way but a paper thin distance.
Grimmjow was surprised when Ulquiorra managed to dodge everything, even seemingly the dagger that looked like it had struck him. He didn't move when the foot was placed onto his neck with crushing strength and the sword was at his throat. It was harder to breathe in that position, but that didn't fucking matter. What was a couple seconds or a minute without air? Grimmjow didn't give up. He never fucking gave up and especially not in a fight. Giving up was for worthless cowards and he'd never been one of those.
Grinning as if he hadn't been hurt at all, one hand shot up and grabbed Ulquiorra's sword, holding onto it with all of his strength. The blade sliced into his palm and blood ran down his arm, but that pain only made him feel stronger. Now with Ulquiorra's sword trapped, Grimmjow's other hand darted out and caught Ulquiorra around his throat.
"We'll be fucking done once I've taken your pretty head and stuck it on the wall in my kitchen." Being quick and pretty was perfectly fine if you were fighting a fucking kid. But you had to be mean and tough to fight like a real man, and Ulquiorra reminded Grimmjow of a woman he'd once strangled to death with one hand.
Ulquiorra knew that Grimmjow was dumb. But he didn't think he was this dumb. Ulquiorra slide his sword out of Grimmjow's hands with a ripping motion. If Grimmjow chose to hold on, it was Grimmjow's hands on the line, not Ulquiorra's. He could feel the skin rip under his blade, and he made sure to make a nice little shallow cut on Grimmjow's throat, just because he could.
But it was all a little too late, because he felt the hand around his neck. He flung his own sword away from both of them, and then used the hand that used to hold it to keep himself from being strangled. Good. Ulquiorra preferred close-range fights like this. As long as he didn't get too close and get caught under Grimmjow's weight, he was alright. He would wait to see what Grimmjow did next. Ulquiorra smirked. "I am afraid that I am too refined a taste for the wall of your kitchen."
"Yeah. Think you're fucking right," Grimmjow agreed with a wide grin. Why wasn't the dumb bastard even trying to get away? Now Grimmjow had him and could beat the fuck out of him. Any smart fuck would get away. But if Ulquiorra wanted to stay right there, then that was fine. "I'll just fucking make your face match my kitchen. Nice and dirty."
Grimmjow swung his bloodied fist for Ulquiorra's face to add his own blood onto that perfect fucking skin. And that skin needed to be decorated with a few bruises. Grimmjow didn't want anything bright and pretty hanging on his wall. He liked darker things. Things that a real man would've preferred.
"Hm. I thought you might have such a retort," Ulquiorra returned, flatly and un-amused. But he still made no move to escape the other's grip. He was biding his time, and as calm as ever. He was even calm as the fist connected with his face. It wasn't like it hurt much thanks to his skin given to him by the experiments. He didn't even make a sound, and he sure was not going to bruise. Not from a hit like that.
"Hm. I thought you would hit harder than that," Ulquiorra said, unimpressed as ever.
Grimmjow's expression mirrored surprise for a brief second; he'd hit the fucker with all of his strength. Strength that had broken down walls and snapped necks and arms. That didn't make any fucking sense at all because he knew for a fucking fact how hard he'd struck Ulquiorra. And he knew for a fact that it should've made an immediate bruise and drawn blood. But now that he thought about it, his knuckles were beginning to ache like he'd hit something that wasn't a face.
Fuck that. Grimmjow yanked his gun from his pants with a minimal amount of moving and pressed the barrel beneath Ulquiorra's chin. "Think you'll fucking feel this?"
Sure, Ulquiorra had moved a little from the shock of the hit. But there was no damage. He wondered if Grimmjow still thought him girly after a hit like that. But the look on his face for a split second was worth the impact. If Grimmjow was going to be so annoying, then Ulquiorra would just have to try harder at being annoying himself. Taking Grimmjow's dignity as well as a win would make it extra satisfying.
"Now, now, I thought we had a deal?" Ulquiorra said, his expression still unchanged, even with the introduction of the gun. It didn't bother him too much, but it presented another problem that he had to solve, just like the hand around his neck he was putting off. "I don't think you want to do that."
"No?" Grimmjow cocked the gun and pressed the cold metal more firmly to the other man's skin. "Getting rid of you is what I wanna do. And if blowing your pretty fucking brain out all over this roof is the only way to do that, then I guess it's what I fucking plan to do."
Grimmjow leaned up so they were even closer. Even in this position he was still so fucking cocky, wasn't he? Ulquiorra didn't even seem to realize that he was five seconds away from being killed. "Why don't you try begging me not to put a bullet through your fucking face? I'm feeling nice tonight. I just might give you a break and shoot out your fucking heart instead."
Ulquiorra's frown grew deeper. He really couldn't put off getting away from Grimmjow anymore. Just staying put there for a minute or two had already made it worse. But for some reason, he still felt like pushing his luck and maybe getting a rise out of this annoying man. "'Pretty'? You seem to be flattering me quite often for someone who would like to see me dead." A smirk. Any little thing to attack would do. Especially since Grimmjow seemed to put a lot of pride in being 'manly'.
"I am not in the mood to beg for anything from you," Ulquiorra said, the small smirk staying on his face, his bottomless green eyes staying locked on Grimmjow's blue ones. "Perhaps you should rethink shooting me, though," Ulquiorra pushed the barrel of his gun against Grimmjow's gut. He had been too busy watching the rest of Ulquiorra to notice his freehand slowly but surely going for his own gun.
The feeling of something solid and dangerous pressing into his stomach made Grimmjow pause. If he shot Ulquiorra and it killed him immediately, he'd be able to get away. But if it didn't, then he'd be left with a nasty wound that would kill him if he was unable to get help. So Grimmjow uncocked the gun and removed it from Ulquiorra's face, tossing it away. Fine. Then he wouldn't shoot him.
"Quit being so fucking concerned about the words I'm saying to you," Grimmjow replied with a cocky grin. "Try paying attention to the other shit around you. You're not as fucking special as you think you are."
It seemed like the key to Ulquiorra was to catch him off-guard. Grimmjow had been lucky enough to do it once, and now he needed a new idea. Something that was likely to work on someone like this bastard on top of him.
Grimmjow closed the distance between them and kissed Ulquiorra full on the lips to distract him as he removed his last dagger from his pocket to drive it into the asshole's stomach. That had to piss off someone like Ulquiorra. And his reaction just might be worth possibly getting shot.
Ulquiorra always had a way out. He would have died a long time ago if he had not been the tricky man that could think on his feet that he was. Grimmjow had never really stood a chance. This was all a game to Ulquiorra. Like he would take the rash man seriously. Ulquiorra smirked inwardly as Grimmjow tossed the gun away. Good boy.
"Hn. I could say the same about you." Ulquiorra eyed him carefully. He really could not predict what stupid thing this man would try next. The last thing he expected was to feel the disgusting sensation of Grimmjow's lips against his closed ones. The disgusting quality of the experience got even worse as he felt the force of such a gesture pass his lips and go completely into his mouth. The dagger made its mark, scratching Ulquiorra's steel skin and ripping his clothes, but he intended to do much worse to Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra fired his gun into Grimmjow's stomach once, and then a second time to dislodge the brute before taking his elbow and crashing across the unmasked side of the blue haired man's face. Ulquiorra got his feet as fast as he could, and followed it up with several angry kicks, panting.
The funny thing was that had been what Grimmjow had wanted. That furious reaction had been worth getting shot, and it wasn't as though he'd never been shot before. He'd been expecting it and fuck if it didn't hurt. Grimmjow knew that a gunshot to the stomach was one of the more painful places, but that didn't make it any less worth it. Ulquiorra hadn't fucking been taking him seriously and it was about time he did. It was a fucking shame it had taken something like that to truly get Ulquiorra riled up.
And Grimmjow laughed. It made the pain worse and it probably increased the rate at which his blood was draining away, but it was worth it. It was all fucking worth it because Ulquiorra was as pissed as a wild dog and the expression on his face had been too fucking funny to ever forget.
Using the strength he had left, Grimmjow grabbed the leg kicking him, wrapped both hands around Ulquiorra's ankle, and flung him hard over his body.
"You act like a fucking girl who just got molested!" he laughed, pressing a hand over his stomach and telling himself he'd need to call Rukia. He wasn't going to show any weakness no matter how much it hurt. Grimmjow was never weak.
Ulquiorra frowned. He was laughing? How strange. Ulquiorra would certainly have to try harder. Grimmjow was not going to find this funny for very much longer. Not after disgracing Ulquiorra like he had. He was going to pay for it.
Ulquiorra kicked again, going for Grimmjow's jaw to break it and prevent any further laughing, but that was when Grimmjow caught it. Sloppy, on Ulquiorra's part. Ulquiorra let Grimmjow throw him, it was better to start considering a graceful landing than to fight back. Ulquiorra slid across the roof, landing in a ready position. This time he shot Grimmjow in the back, in his favorite place on the spine. It was the spot he hit to make sure his mark stopped moving. Ulquiorra had not even been considering killing Grimmjow until now. But maybe he would settle for paralyzing the man. That would be much worse for such a man dependent on his physical strength. It was fitting. It was poetic. It would teach him. Ulquiorra liked it.
Ulquiorra came closer to Grimmjow then, who was only a foot from the edge of the roof again. Ulquiorra stepped on Grimmjow's throat again.
So much for no fucking guns, huh? And Grimmjow had thought they'd had a deal. One that Ulquiorra had been kind enough to remind him of. That was what Grimmjow deserved for wanting to have a real fight. Without that gun, Ulquiorra wouldn't have been able to do much of a thing.
Maybe Grimmjow couldn't move now. So fucking what. He didn't need to move to know he'd managed to truly make the asshole above him angry. And that was the best part, because as reserved as Ulquiorra had seemed to be, Grimmjow had broken that womanly barrier. Now that he couldn't move, he couldn't really feel, either, and pain wasn't something that bothered him to begin with.
Grimmjow's eyes were grinning as he looked up at Ulquiorra. What a cowardly little shit. That gun was what made him strong and Grimmjow should have broken his fingers when he'd had the chance. It was too late now, but Grimmjow hadn't completely lost. Not with how angry he'd made the bastard.
As far as Ulquiorra was concerned, Grimmjow had forfeited his fair fight the second that the idea of the kiss had come into his mind. But Grimmjow's assumption that the same ending would not have played out if Ulquiorra had not had a gun was flawed. Ulquiorra had quite a few daggers in his jacket, and what did he do when he had to kill silently? He could still get the same effect by digging into the person's back with his knife. But that was messy. Ulquiorra did not like messy things. This was clean cut. Effortless. Grimmjow did not deserve effort.
"You ripped my shirt," Ulquiorra stated, flatly, pushing down on Grimmjow's voice box. Sure enough, a sliver of Ulquiorra's pale skin was showing under the rip in his shirt from Grimmjow's dagger. Ulquiorra tilted his head. His expression had long since returned to one of cool detachment, and yet this man was still smiling. Did he really think the idea of being paralyzed was funny? What a strange man. He still seemed to think that he had won when he could no longer fight. Ulquiorra returned his gun to his coat. Grimmjow only had feeling in the upper part of his body, and even soon that would be gone. He was no longer a threat. Ulquiorra pulled out a knife from his coat. "If you really wanted to die that badly, I would not have pulled my punches." Ulquiorra twirled it in his fingers a little. "There are certainly better ways to die than to touch me." In one quick moment he had stabbed the knife deep into Grimmjow's shoulder, where he could still feel it.
"Your chance of victory never existed." With that, Ulquiorra kicked Grimmjow off the roof.
"Shit." Shit. This was the second time during the fight that he'd been kicked off the roof, and Grimmjow knew that he wouldn't be able to get back up this time. He managed to turn his upper body just enough so that he wouldn't land on the knife and dig it in even deeper. When he did hit the ground, a fresh wave of pain went through his body as though every wound was being opened again. There hadn't been anything to break his fall this time, either.
One of his hands barely managed to reach up and yank the dagger from his shoulder, releasing another flow of blood. Grimmjow couldn't see anymore and he knew exactly why. He knew he was bleeding from probably every corner of his body. And he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Not with how much he'd been wounded.
Fuck fuck fuck. Grimmjow would find a way to kill Ulquiorra. He'd find a fucking way because no one ever fucking looked down on him and got away with it. Just because he'd lost this time didn't mean he'd lost for good. Maybe when he woke up he'd think of a way to track the fucker down and kill him in his sleep.
Ulquiorra just watched as Grimmjow hit the ground. It was over. Ulquiorra had done his job. Whether Grimmjow died there or had to live with the humiliation for the rest of his life didn't matter to him. Both seemed like good options at the moment. How foolish. How completely foolish it was to think you could be more than you were.
Ulquiorra looked at Grimmjow one last time before disappearing from Grimmjow's range of sight.
WHAT: Fighting. AND GRIMM WILL BE BACK WITH A VENGEANCE. >[ Lots of violence. A SMOOCHIE.
WHERE: Outside somewhere.
WHEN: The 26th.
Grimmjow was pissed off. Really fucking pissed off. He didn't know how fucking long it had been since he'd started searching for Ulquiorra through the city, but it had been long enough. Time was being fucking wasted because the fucking asshole had decided to be a fucking asshole. But he was determined as hell to find the bastard and show him what happened when he stole Grimmjow's prey. He was going to break Ulquiorra's neck first, just enough so that it paralyzed but didn't kill him. Then he was going to break all of his fucking fingers, then his wrists, then his arms. Maybe he'd find something else to fucking break, too.
Cracking his knuckles in aggravation, Grimmjow slammed the toe of his boot into a trash can and sent it flying into a building where it hit the wall with a sound too loud to be made at night. Anyone who wanted to fucking dare tell him to be quiet would get a fist to the fucking teeth.
Ulquiorra knew that this rash man was fool. But he never expected him to be this much of a fool. The best this man could have done was lay low after a death threat such as Ulquiorra's. But he obviously did not possess the brains to do so. He also made it painfully easy for Ulquiorra to find him. Sure, Ulquiorra did have enhanced eyesight, but even a school kid could find this man. Everywhere he went, Grimmjow had been kicking things, and knocking over whatever seemed to be in his reach, just like his latest victim of the trashcan. It was childish.
Ulquiorra watched Grimmjow from the roof of the building where the trashcan had made contact. He dangled his skinny legs over the edge of the roof, pale hands gripping the edge. His condescending eyes were filled with cool disgust for the creature on the street below.
"Are you done?" he said, not too loud, but enough for his voice to carry to the street level. The area around them was quiet now that the noise from the trashcan had faded away.
Grimmjow stood completely still when he heard that voice. The same fucking voice that had left him that voicemail and the same fucking voice he'd heard when he first met Ulquiorra. What the fuck gave him the right to be watching him? He'd just spent too fucking long searching high and low for the bastard when he'd been there all along.
That dumbass thought he was so fucking high and mighty when he was nothing but a shithead. If he didn't quit the shit with keeping his head so high, Grimmjow would force him to bring his nose back down by breaking it the fuck off of his face.
Grimmjow unsheathed his sword and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to look up for the fucker. And there he fucking was, sitting on a roof, watching him like a stalker. "Yo!" he called up with a wide grin, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "You hiding up there like a fucking coward, you piece of shit? Why don't you get the fuck down here and fight me like a man?"
Ulquiorra just calmly regarded the other man in silence. He was not impressed. Ulquiorra had been there for at least two hours, just following Grimmjow. This man's awareness of his surroundings appeared to be very flawed. Ulquiorra simply smirked down at the man below him. It was an eerie sort of expression.
"That depends," Ulquiorra begun, his voice flat and cold. "Did you think about what you had to offer me in return?"
So the fucker had been serious? Ulquiorra really thought he had a fucking right to ask someone to pay him in return for fighting? Was he some kind of fucking joke? Grimmjow laughed as he reached behind him with the hand not holding onto the sword, fingers grasping the gun he kept in the back of his pants. If he had to shoot the asshole off the roof, he would.
"How about I give you a fucking pat on the back?" Grimmjow offered. "If you've still even got a fucking back by the time I'm through with you. If not, I'll think of something else. Let's save all the boring shit for later."
Of course Ulquiorra was dead serious. He always was. It was not like he was going to put his neck on the line just for some stranger's idea of 'fun'. Ulquiorra had better things to do. He had a job that required that he remain in top physical condition. Why ruin that over some angry guy who could not even keep quiet while trying to track someone down?
Ulquiorra sighed, his large, eerie eyes closing in annoyance. “If you insist.” In a second, Ulquiorra has drawn his own gun and shot a warning shot that scathed the skin of the hand reaching back for Grimmjow's gun. “But let us keep these out of it,” he said, returning his gun to the inside pocket of his black suit coat. He took his own sword from where he had placed it on the roof, letting Grimmjow see he had his own weapon and would keep his word not to draw his gun again.
Grimmjow's eyes widened just slightly at the bullet that grazed his hand. It wasn't a pain that bothered him--he wasn't a fucking baby. He just hadn't thought Ulquiorra would be able to see what he was doing. It was fucking dark outside and they weren't exactly right next to each other. But Grimmjow removed his hand from his gun anyway, putting it into the air to show that it was empty. No fucking problem. Grimmjow preferred using his sword anyway, but you couldn't live in this city without owning a few guns.
"Then get the fuck down here so I can reach you. Or do you plan on making me come all the way up there?" he asked, impatient to run Ulquiorra through over and over again until that skinny body had been sliced into ten.
Ulquiorra could see Grimmjow just as clearly as if it had been day. He was used to the night. He felt the most comfortable in it. It was his element. But he did admit that his enhanced eyesight might have had something to do with it. Ulquiorra continued to watch Grimmjow carefully.
"You are the one that wishes to fight me so badly. Why should I exert effort?"
"Tch." Grimmjow was going to kick this bastard's fucking ass so hard that Ulquiorra would still be feeling it even after he died. Sword in hand, he lunged forward much faster than a normal human would, slammed one foot down to get him off the ground, and easily flipped onto the roof. The second he was close enough to Ulquiorra he swung out his sword for the bastard's back, not even waiting to actually land on the roof.
If the fucker wanted to die so badly, then Grimmjow was perfectly willing to help him get there. After Ulquiorra had stolen his job, he wasn't going to fucking let him get out of this alive. You didn't take what belonged to Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.
Ulquiorra waited calmly for Grimmjow too meet him. He was not afraid of the other man whatsoever. He did not get 'worked up' over fights. They did not even make him blink anymore. The color and smell of blood were so common to him now. He shut his eyes, shifting his body slightly so the blade passed him by completely. The eerie eyes opened again, the same primal, animalistic blood thirst showing in his eyes for an instant. He slid into a crouching position, and hooked his long leg across and into Grimmjow's stomach while the other man was still in the air. He followed up with a switch to the second leg, the full force of the turning of his hips slamming his weight into Grimmjow's shoulder, sending him off the roof before he had even set foot on it.
Grimmjow felt the first impact connect with his stomach and then the second to his shoulder. Both sent him flying straight into the ground where he crashed into a stack of garbage cans, denting the metal as he landed and sending all kinds of shit flying everywhere. If the cans hadn't been there, he probably would've made a crater in the ground.
Shock was the first thing Grimmjow felt, rather than the throbbing pain where he'd been struck. Grimmjow knew he was fast, but he'd never met anyone faster. The fuckhead had moved maybe half an inch so the blade wouldn't touch him. He hadn't even given Grimmjow's feet a chance to hit the roof.
Snarling and ignoring whatever pain had arisen, Grimmjow kicked his way out of the mangled cans and ran right up the side of the building to the roof. Only this time he avoided Ulquiorra so he could at least get onto the roof before being thrown right back down.
"Is that all you've fucking got?" Grimmjow laughed, facing Ulquiorra from a safe distance. "You have to kick me off the roof like a little girl keeping her brother off her fucking bed? You're a piss of an assassin if that's your fucking best."
Once the attack was completed, Ulquiorra settled back to his sitting position on the edge of the roof. He just stared down at Grimmjow again, waiting for the other man to get up. That certainly was not the end. It couldn't be. Not after all of the boasting Grimmjow had done. He had to be made of more than just that.
Ulquiorra's eyes shifted over to the part of the roof where Grimmjow now stood. But his eyes were the only thing that shifted. He sighed again. "Afraid of me now?" he asked flatly. Grimmjow was keeping his distance this time. Fear was good. Being too overconfident got you killed. Maybe this creature could learn if the lessons were physical. No matter. Ulquiorra could teach him. "Apparently my tactics are working. You do not seem as eager to come at me as before." Ulquiorra turned his head then, a dark smirk on his lips.
"You think I'm fucking scared of you?" Grimmjow roared with laughter and set his sword over one shoulder again. "I'm waiting for you to get off your fucking ass and come at me with all you've got. If I want to fight an asshole who's going to do nothing but sit, I can go somewhere else. I didn't look all fucking night for you to watch you do nothing."
Grimmjow wanted a fight. He wanted a real fucking fight that would make his blood race and his heart pound until he was high off the feeling of it. For that to happen he needed Ulquiorra to get off his worthless ass and come at him like a real man would. All he was fucking doing was staying in the same spot and it was aggravating Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra blinked. "Yes, I do," he stated. Ulquiorra raised one eyebrow. "Why would I waste 'all that I've got' on the likes of you? Minimal movement will do until you prove I must do otherwise." Ulquiorra went back to looking off of the roof to the other houses and buildings that made up the nightscape. He was starting to think this really hadn't been worth his trouble. "Then go ahead. You were the one who wanted to fight me so badly that you searched most of the night for me. You obviously have nothing better to do with your time."
Ulquiorra ran a pale hand through his dark hair, giving away signs of his boredom. "But, if you truly wish it..." He stood, resting his sheathed sword on his shoulder. "I will end this quickly."
Grimmjow wrinkled his nose with distaste. The bastard still talked a lot of shit and all he'd done was thrown Grimmjow off of the roof. It didn't take a fucking genius to be able to work out a trick like that. He'd just have to teach the bastard a lesson. Grinning as he righted his sword once more, Grimmjow shot forward, using his speed and agility so it was like a running cat.
If Ulquiorra thought he could be beaten easily just because he'd been tossed to the ground, then he had another thing coming to him. Grimmjow had lost one fight before and it had only made him stronger. This fight wasn't one he was going to lose. And Ulquiorra didn't believe him, so he'd need to force him to. Then he'd fucking rip his eyes right out of his head.
Ulquiorra waited. He waited until Grimmjow was close. Very close. He did for each of his victims. He had to be right near them, be able to hear their heart beat, their breathing. But it was also easier to inflict wounds this close. Ulquiorra's body suddenly fell into a fighting position, and with lightning speed, he had spun another kick around, and slammed his heel into the side of Grimmjow's neck. It would have been a kick in a spot that would have rendered most men unconscious, but because of the bones on his face, and whatever other alterations to Grimmjow's body, it only managed to make the other man lose his balance. Ulquiorra followed it up by stepping hard onto the back on Grimmjow's neck, continuing in the direction he had kicked him in order to slam him into the surface of the roof.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Grimmjow wasn't going to be able to land a single hit if he couldn't get Ulquiorra to stand the fuck still. The bastard was too fast. Grimmjow was fast, too, but he was also bigger and heavier than Ulquiorra, who was fucking tiny in comparison. It'd make sense that he'd be able to move more quickly and easily than Grimmjow.
Grimmjow slammed a hand onto the roof to keep from falling completely face-first and he used that momentum to flip himself over immediately and used his legs to wrap around Ulquiorra's and yank him back down with him. Fuck if he was going to let the asshole beat the shit out of him just because he wasn't shaped like a dainty woman.
Ulquiorra was quite small. But that was not completely unusual, he was quite a bit younger than the other man. He also thought himself a bit more skilled. He had been trained after all in the best methods of combat for his size while Grimmjow seemed to have only learned by charging straight head in street brawls. Strategy was probably only some vague concept to the other man.
But Ulquiorra's big emerald eyes widened in surprise as Grimmjow took out his legs. Now that was unexpected. Ulquiorra crashed to the surface of the roof and began to roll towards the edge. He slid to a stop on his hands and knees, his ego bruised more than his elbows and knees. He swore under his breath, and got to his feet, dusting off his suit coat and his pants.
Now that was more like it. It went to show that Ulquiorra wasn't all he made himself out to be. It meant he was vulnerable and could get his ass kicked--it was only a matter of being able to take him by surprise each time in different ways. The only problem was Grimmjow didn't exactly strategize his fights. He went in, beat the shit out of the other person, and left laughing. All that took was sheer strength.
Grimmjow righted himself with a grin, pleased that he'd finally been able to get some kind of hit in on the bastard. "Catch you by fucking surprise?" he cracked. "Bet you thought you were some kind of fucking god, didn't you? Thought you'd get away without a single fucking scratch."
Ulquiorra was vulnerable. But he would be damned if he ever showed that side to anyone. Ever. Let alone right now. Grimmjow had gotten lucky. That was all. Sheer strength would only get you so far in the end. All that mattered was that Ulquiorra out-thought Grimmjow, and that looked like a simple task.
"Luck. That is all it was, I assure you," Ulquiorra replied, evenly. Even though he had been thrown to the ground, Ulquiorra's expression remained completely unchanged. He did not have the appearance of a man shaken from his throne. That was because he wasn't shaken at all. "I knew I would not get away completely scratch-free...which is why I hope you are still thinking of my reward." Ulquiorra smirked then, holding up the sword that he had grasped in his hand the entire time. "Until then, let us get serious."
"I've been fucking serious since I got here," Grimmjow snarled. "You're the fuck who's been prancing all over the rooftop like a fucking schoolgirl." And it was Ulquiorra who had refused to clash swords. The idiot liked jumping all over like he was scared to fight. And that wasn't Grimmjow's problem. "Why don't you try keeping your fucking feet on the ground this time?"
Nonetheless, Grimmjow lifted his sword again, still aggravated that Ulquiorra was being such a pain in the ass about fighting. This time when Grimmjow went in to slash the asshole to pieces, he kept a close watch on Ulquiorra so that he'd be ready for any more fucking prancing about that he felt like doing.
"Hmm. You mean when you fell off the roof? That looked very serious," Ulquiorra taunted, emotionlessly. Ulquiorra did not appreciate all the comments about how girly he looked to the other man. If Ulquiorra was as heavy as Grimmjow, he was sure that he would be just as slow, and just as useless. Besides, his ability to fit into whatever disguise his job called for was also very useful at times when one could not get close to a target on the street. "If you wish," Ulquiorra said, coldly. He could beat Grimmjow without his feet, no problem.
Ulquiorra simply side stepped, and brought his sword down on Grimmjow's, putting all his weight and force into the hit, hoping that he could lodge Grimmjow's sword as deeply into the roof as possible. He didn't even bother to draw the blade. There was no point.
"Tch." Grimmjow didn't care that he'd been thrown off the roof. Any cuts and bruises would heal later. Right now Ulquiorra thought he could be fucking stronger than him, and that wasn't fucking acceptable. Because Grimmjow wasn't going to let the smug bastard overrule him in strength and speed.
As soon as Ulquiorra's sword came down on his with the other bastard's weight, Grimmjow pulled his own sword up, using his strength to keep his sword free of the roof. He was able to yank both of their swords up so that they were caught between their two bodies. If Ulquiorra's hands slipped from his sword, he was going to lose that pretty head. And to try to make that happen, Grimmjow held onto his sword with one hand and swung his other fist for Ulquiorra's face.
Ulquiorra knew that there was no way to out do Grimmjow when it came to physical strength. It was impossible. Ulquiorra was a tricky and calculating creature, however, and there were many other ways to deal with Grimmjow. He regretted the promise of not using his feet, for they were his favored method of attack, even over the quick and clean kill that his gun could give him. He did not much like his hands as weapons.
Ulquiorra shifted his weight so he was out of Grimmjow's strike range and slid his own sword along Grimmjow's, turning his body as he did so to remain guarded. If Grimmjow wanted his sword to come back up, that was exactly what was going to happen. Without warning, Ulquiorra shifted his weight completely and brought the sword up suddenly. It travelled across his body with a wave before it changed course and made clean contact with the side of the base of Grimmjow's neck. All of it happened in a second. Ulquiorra knew that Grimmjow was well wrought with muscles, but a shot to the pressure point around that area still had to make the most heavy set of men's knees turn into jelly, if even for a moment.
And Grimmjow did feel his knees weaken as that sheathed sword slammed into the side of his neck. It didn't exactly hurt. It was one of the fucking strangest feelings that had ever come across him. Everything beneath him suddenly gave out like he had no control over his legs and he fell. But he managed to throw himself back so that he wouldn't fall on top of Ulquiorra and onto a hidden weapon.
Fortunately for Grimmjow, he'd been in enough fights to know he needed to use every part of his body possible. Managing to gather enough strength in his right leg, he kicked it out at one of Ulquiorra's to knock him off balance. And, taking that into account, he withdrew three daggers from his pocket and flung them all at once toward Ulquiorra's body.
Ulquiorra knew that it was far from over, but it gave him a little time while Grimmjow's body had to recover. Ulquiorra was already a step ahead of Grimmjow, having cleared himself of the area directly around Grimmjow so there was no chance of the other man falling on him. Being pinned under Grimmjow's body would probably mean game over.
Ulquiorra, in the heat of the moment, forgot his promise and jumped, executing a well-placed kick directly at Grimmjow's ankle. But that was not all, while he was in the air, he perceived the daggers flying at him. Those weren't as easy with which to deal. He managed to get two of them with a swing of his sword while still in the air, but he couldn't afford to worry about the third one since he was more concerned with landing in a good position. Land he did, close enough to drop his foot on Grimmjow's neck and push down. The dagger fell to the roof with a clank to the surface of the roof like a discarded toy, even if it had made contact with Ulquiorra's arm. Ulquiorra pushed his foot down a little more, and drew his sword, placing that at Grimmjow's neck instead, leaning down to look the wild creature in his chaotic blue eyes.
"Are we done now?" He was clearly in a position to take Grimmjow's head, nothing in his way but a paper thin distance.
Grimmjow was surprised when Ulquiorra managed to dodge everything, even seemingly the dagger that looked like it had struck him. He didn't move when the foot was placed onto his neck with crushing strength and the sword was at his throat. It was harder to breathe in that position, but that didn't fucking matter. What was a couple seconds or a minute without air? Grimmjow didn't give up. He never fucking gave up and especially not in a fight. Giving up was for worthless cowards and he'd never been one of those.
Grinning as if he hadn't been hurt at all, one hand shot up and grabbed Ulquiorra's sword, holding onto it with all of his strength. The blade sliced into his palm and blood ran down his arm, but that pain only made him feel stronger. Now with Ulquiorra's sword trapped, Grimmjow's other hand darted out and caught Ulquiorra around his throat.
"We'll be fucking done once I've taken your pretty head and stuck it on the wall in my kitchen." Being quick and pretty was perfectly fine if you were fighting a fucking kid. But you had to be mean and tough to fight like a real man, and Ulquiorra reminded Grimmjow of a woman he'd once strangled to death with one hand.
Ulquiorra knew that Grimmjow was dumb. But he didn't think he was this dumb. Ulquiorra slide his sword out of Grimmjow's hands with a ripping motion. If Grimmjow chose to hold on, it was Grimmjow's hands on the line, not Ulquiorra's. He could feel the skin rip under his blade, and he made sure to make a nice little shallow cut on Grimmjow's throat, just because he could.
But it was all a little too late, because he felt the hand around his neck. He flung his own sword away from both of them, and then used the hand that used to hold it to keep himself from being strangled. Good. Ulquiorra preferred close-range fights like this. As long as he didn't get too close and get caught under Grimmjow's weight, he was alright. He would wait to see what Grimmjow did next. Ulquiorra smirked. "I am afraid that I am too refined a taste for the wall of your kitchen."
"Yeah. Think you're fucking right," Grimmjow agreed with a wide grin. Why wasn't the dumb bastard even trying to get away? Now Grimmjow had him and could beat the fuck out of him. Any smart fuck would get away. But if Ulquiorra wanted to stay right there, then that was fine. "I'll just fucking make your face match my kitchen. Nice and dirty."
Grimmjow swung his bloodied fist for Ulquiorra's face to add his own blood onto that perfect fucking skin. And that skin needed to be decorated with a few bruises. Grimmjow didn't want anything bright and pretty hanging on his wall. He liked darker things. Things that a real man would've preferred.
"Hm. I thought you might have such a retort," Ulquiorra returned, flatly and un-amused. But he still made no move to escape the other's grip. He was biding his time, and as calm as ever. He was even calm as the fist connected with his face. It wasn't like it hurt much thanks to his skin given to him by the experiments. He didn't even make a sound, and he sure was not going to bruise. Not from a hit like that.
"Hm. I thought you would hit harder than that," Ulquiorra said, unimpressed as ever.
Grimmjow's expression mirrored surprise for a brief second; he'd hit the fucker with all of his strength. Strength that had broken down walls and snapped necks and arms. That didn't make any fucking sense at all because he knew for a fucking fact how hard he'd struck Ulquiorra. And he knew for a fact that it should've made an immediate bruise and drawn blood. But now that he thought about it, his knuckles were beginning to ache like he'd hit something that wasn't a face.
Fuck that. Grimmjow yanked his gun from his pants with a minimal amount of moving and pressed the barrel beneath Ulquiorra's chin. "Think you'll fucking feel this?"
Sure, Ulquiorra had moved a little from the shock of the hit. But there was no damage. He wondered if Grimmjow still thought him girly after a hit like that. But the look on his face for a split second was worth the impact. If Grimmjow was going to be so annoying, then Ulquiorra would just have to try harder at being annoying himself. Taking Grimmjow's dignity as well as a win would make it extra satisfying.
"Now, now, I thought we had a deal?" Ulquiorra said, his expression still unchanged, even with the introduction of the gun. It didn't bother him too much, but it presented another problem that he had to solve, just like the hand around his neck he was putting off. "I don't think you want to do that."
"No?" Grimmjow cocked the gun and pressed the cold metal more firmly to the other man's skin. "Getting rid of you is what I wanna do. And if blowing your pretty fucking brain out all over this roof is the only way to do that, then I guess it's what I fucking plan to do."
Grimmjow leaned up so they were even closer. Even in this position he was still so fucking cocky, wasn't he? Ulquiorra didn't even seem to realize that he was five seconds away from being killed. "Why don't you try begging me not to put a bullet through your fucking face? I'm feeling nice tonight. I just might give you a break and shoot out your fucking heart instead."
Ulquiorra's frown grew deeper. He really couldn't put off getting away from Grimmjow anymore. Just staying put there for a minute or two had already made it worse. But for some reason, he still felt like pushing his luck and maybe getting a rise out of this annoying man. "'Pretty'? You seem to be flattering me quite often for someone who would like to see me dead." A smirk. Any little thing to attack would do. Especially since Grimmjow seemed to put a lot of pride in being 'manly'.
"I am not in the mood to beg for anything from you," Ulquiorra said, the small smirk staying on his face, his bottomless green eyes staying locked on Grimmjow's blue ones. "Perhaps you should rethink shooting me, though," Ulquiorra pushed the barrel of his gun against Grimmjow's gut. He had been too busy watching the rest of Ulquiorra to notice his freehand slowly but surely going for his own gun.
The feeling of something solid and dangerous pressing into his stomach made Grimmjow pause. If he shot Ulquiorra and it killed him immediately, he'd be able to get away. But if it didn't, then he'd be left with a nasty wound that would kill him if he was unable to get help. So Grimmjow uncocked the gun and removed it from Ulquiorra's face, tossing it away. Fine. Then he wouldn't shoot him.
"Quit being so fucking concerned about the words I'm saying to you," Grimmjow replied with a cocky grin. "Try paying attention to the other shit around you. You're not as fucking special as you think you are."
It seemed like the key to Ulquiorra was to catch him off-guard. Grimmjow had been lucky enough to do it once, and now he needed a new idea. Something that was likely to work on someone like this bastard on top of him.
Grimmjow closed the distance between them and kissed Ulquiorra full on the lips to distract him as he removed his last dagger from his pocket to drive it into the asshole's stomach. That had to piss off someone like Ulquiorra. And his reaction just might be worth possibly getting shot.
Ulquiorra always had a way out. He would have died a long time ago if he had not been the tricky man that could think on his feet that he was. Grimmjow had never really stood a chance. This was all a game to Ulquiorra. Like he would take the rash man seriously. Ulquiorra smirked inwardly as Grimmjow tossed the gun away. Good boy.
"Hn. I could say the same about you." Ulquiorra eyed him carefully. He really could not predict what stupid thing this man would try next. The last thing he expected was to feel the disgusting sensation of Grimmjow's lips against his closed ones. The disgusting quality of the experience got even worse as he felt the force of such a gesture pass his lips and go completely into his mouth. The dagger made its mark, scratching Ulquiorra's steel skin and ripping his clothes, but he intended to do much worse to Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra fired his gun into Grimmjow's stomach once, and then a second time to dislodge the brute before taking his elbow and crashing across the unmasked side of the blue haired man's face. Ulquiorra got his feet as fast as he could, and followed it up with several angry kicks, panting.
The funny thing was that had been what Grimmjow had wanted. That furious reaction had been worth getting shot, and it wasn't as though he'd never been shot before. He'd been expecting it and fuck if it didn't hurt. Grimmjow knew that a gunshot to the stomach was one of the more painful places, but that didn't make it any less worth it. Ulquiorra hadn't fucking been taking him seriously and it was about time he did. It was a fucking shame it had taken something like that to truly get Ulquiorra riled up.
And Grimmjow laughed. It made the pain worse and it probably increased the rate at which his blood was draining away, but it was worth it. It was all fucking worth it because Ulquiorra was as pissed as a wild dog and the expression on his face had been too fucking funny to ever forget.
Using the strength he had left, Grimmjow grabbed the leg kicking him, wrapped both hands around Ulquiorra's ankle, and flung him hard over his body.
"You act like a fucking girl who just got molested!" he laughed, pressing a hand over his stomach and telling himself he'd need to call Rukia. He wasn't going to show any weakness no matter how much it hurt. Grimmjow was never weak.
Ulquiorra frowned. He was laughing? How strange. Ulquiorra would certainly have to try harder. Grimmjow was not going to find this funny for very much longer. Not after disgracing Ulquiorra like he had. He was going to pay for it.
Ulquiorra kicked again, going for Grimmjow's jaw to break it and prevent any further laughing, but that was when Grimmjow caught it. Sloppy, on Ulquiorra's part. Ulquiorra let Grimmjow throw him, it was better to start considering a graceful landing than to fight back. Ulquiorra slid across the roof, landing in a ready position. This time he shot Grimmjow in the back, in his favorite place on the spine. It was the spot he hit to make sure his mark stopped moving. Ulquiorra had not even been considering killing Grimmjow until now. But maybe he would settle for paralyzing the man. That would be much worse for such a man dependent on his physical strength. It was fitting. It was poetic. It would teach him. Ulquiorra liked it.
Ulquiorra came closer to Grimmjow then, who was only a foot from the edge of the roof again. Ulquiorra stepped on Grimmjow's throat again.
So much for no fucking guns, huh? And Grimmjow had thought they'd had a deal. One that Ulquiorra had been kind enough to remind him of. That was what Grimmjow deserved for wanting to have a real fight. Without that gun, Ulquiorra wouldn't have been able to do much of a thing.
Maybe Grimmjow couldn't move now. So fucking what. He didn't need to move to know he'd managed to truly make the asshole above him angry. And that was the best part, because as reserved as Ulquiorra had seemed to be, Grimmjow had broken that womanly barrier. Now that he couldn't move, he couldn't really feel, either, and pain wasn't something that bothered him to begin with.
Grimmjow's eyes were grinning as he looked up at Ulquiorra. What a cowardly little shit. That gun was what made him strong and Grimmjow should have broken his fingers when he'd had the chance. It was too late now, but Grimmjow hadn't completely lost. Not with how angry he'd made the bastard.
As far as Ulquiorra was concerned, Grimmjow had forfeited his fair fight the second that the idea of the kiss had come into his mind. But Grimmjow's assumption that the same ending would not have played out if Ulquiorra had not had a gun was flawed. Ulquiorra had quite a few daggers in his jacket, and what did he do when he had to kill silently? He could still get the same effect by digging into the person's back with his knife. But that was messy. Ulquiorra did not like messy things. This was clean cut. Effortless. Grimmjow did not deserve effort.
"You ripped my shirt," Ulquiorra stated, flatly, pushing down on Grimmjow's voice box. Sure enough, a sliver of Ulquiorra's pale skin was showing under the rip in his shirt from Grimmjow's dagger. Ulquiorra tilted his head. His expression had long since returned to one of cool detachment, and yet this man was still smiling. Did he really think the idea of being paralyzed was funny? What a strange man. He still seemed to think that he had won when he could no longer fight. Ulquiorra returned his gun to his coat. Grimmjow only had feeling in the upper part of his body, and even soon that would be gone. He was no longer a threat. Ulquiorra pulled out a knife from his coat. "If you really wanted to die that badly, I would not have pulled my punches." Ulquiorra twirled it in his fingers a little. "There are certainly better ways to die than to touch me." In one quick moment he had stabbed the knife deep into Grimmjow's shoulder, where he could still feel it.
"Your chance of victory never existed." With that, Ulquiorra kicked Grimmjow off the roof.
"Shit." Shit. This was the second time during the fight that he'd been kicked off the roof, and Grimmjow knew that he wouldn't be able to get back up this time. He managed to turn his upper body just enough so that he wouldn't land on the knife and dig it in even deeper. When he did hit the ground, a fresh wave of pain went through his body as though every wound was being opened again. There hadn't been anything to break his fall this time, either.
One of his hands barely managed to reach up and yank the dagger from his shoulder, releasing another flow of blood. Grimmjow couldn't see anymore and he knew exactly why. He knew he was bleeding from probably every corner of his body. And he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Not with how much he'd been wounded.
Fuck fuck fuck. Grimmjow would find a way to kill Ulquiorra. He'd find a fucking way because no one ever fucking looked down on him and got away with it. Just because he'd lost this time didn't mean he'd lost for good. Maybe when he woke up he'd think of a way to track the fucker down and kill him in his sleep.
Ulquiorra just watched as Grimmjow hit the ground. It was over. Ulquiorra had done his job. Whether Grimmjow died there or had to live with the humiliation for the rest of his life didn't matter to him. Both seemed like good options at the moment. How foolish. How completely foolish it was to think you could be more than you were.
Ulquiorra looked at Grimmjow one last time before disappearing from Grimmjow's range of sight.