Instinct
Title: Instinct
Author: Ragna (afteriwake)
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoiler: None for current chapters, but this is set after the end of the Winter War.
Characters: Grimmjow/Matsumoto
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They all belong to Tite Kubo. If they belonged to me…well, things would be quite a bit different.
Author's Notes: Any relationship these two have is going to be very contentious, and I hope I got that across.
---
She opened up the door and looked at him. She couldn’t even muster surprise that he had left the 11th squad barracks and come to her quarters, or that he even knew where her quarters were. He was there, and right now she really didn’t want visitors. “Go away.” She began to shut the door in his face. Grimmjow stuck his hand out and pushed the door back. After a momentary struggle between them, Matsumoto simply gave up. If he wanted to come in, fine. She didn’t really care anymore.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. He walked in and didn’t bother shutting the door behind him, so she did it.
“Like you really care,” she said, going back to her cooking area and the awaiting bottle of sake.
“I don’t, really, but I’ve gotten to kinda like our sparring matches and you just don’t do it anymore.” He followed her. “What gives?”
“It’s my fault my Captain is in the 4th squad relief station. He almost got killed, and it’s my fault. Happy?” She got to the bottle and drank straight from it, a long gulp.
He watched her. “No.”
“No what?” she asked, wiping away some sake that had trailed down her chin.
“I’m not happy.” He came over to her and took the bottle of sake from her and looked at it.
“Give it back,” she said, her voice low.
“You need a better distraction than sake, and I want you back to normal,” he said. “Fight with me.”
“Fight with you?” she asked.
“Grab your sword, follow me back to where I usually fight Kenpachi and fight with me. I’ll even take it easy on you.” She looked at him for a moment, and then reached for the sake bottle. He kept it out of her reach and she glared at him. “When we’re done you can come back and drink yourself stupid.”
She let her hand drop, and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll fight you.”
“Good,” he said with a smirk.
--
The fight was short and brutal, but in the end it had devolved into a shouting match as insults were thrown back and forth. He really had taken it easy on her, but she figured he wanted the verbal sparring more than the swordplay in the first place. And…she felt better. She felt anger, she felt satisfaction when she was able to cut him, she felt other things, and none of them were guilt, the heavy ache of guilt she’d carried for the last week. Fighting him with her sword made he feel normal. Fighting him with her words made her feel normal, and she grasped onto that feeling and held onto it tightly.
They stopped fighting with swords when it became apparent that neither of them were interested in a physical fight anymore. She got up in his face, he got up in hers, there were insults and threats and…and then for some reason there was a kiss. It was rough and hard and by no means gentle or compassionate. It was raw, as was the sudden rush of need that filled her up. For the first time she didn’t look at him as an enemy to fight. She looked at him as someone she would very much like to take to bed. She took a step back and looked at him. She saw something in his eyes, something alongside the obvious attraction. She saw surprise, and she was pretty sure the same look was etched on her face as well.
“This is not right,” she said. “I don’t like you.”
“You’re just lying to yourself,” he said.
“Yeah? What about you?”
“I don’t lie to myself,” he said. “I don’t know what just happened, but I liked it. And admit it. You liked it too.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But…I need to think. I need to go.” She grabbed her sword from where she had dropped it and began to head away from the secluded area where they had been fighting. He caught up with her in four steps and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She turned, looked at his hand on her arm and then him. “What?”
“Don’t think,” he said.
“And just act on instinct?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I…can’t. So let go of me.” She expected him to argue, but he simply let go of her arm. She turned again and began to walk quickly, afraid he’d catch up to her again and force her to do what she really wanted to do, which was to strip him down and have sex right then and there. She just couldn’t bring herself to give in to this instinct, though. It just…no, she thought to herself. She could control it, she could pretend that that wasn’t what she really wanted. She had to, for her own sake.
Author: Ragna (afteriwake)
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoiler: None for current chapters, but this is set after the end of the Winter War.
Characters: Grimmjow/Matsumoto
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They all belong to Tite Kubo. If they belonged to me…well, things would be quite a bit different.
Author's Notes: Any relationship these two have is going to be very contentious, and I hope I got that across.
---
She opened up the door and looked at him. She couldn’t even muster surprise that he had left the 11th squad barracks and come to her quarters, or that he even knew where her quarters were. He was there, and right now she really didn’t want visitors. “Go away.” She began to shut the door in his face. Grimmjow stuck his hand out and pushed the door back. After a momentary struggle between them, Matsumoto simply gave up. If he wanted to come in, fine. She didn’t really care anymore.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. He walked in and didn’t bother shutting the door behind him, so she did it.
“Like you really care,” she said, going back to her cooking area and the awaiting bottle of sake.
“I don’t, really, but I’ve gotten to kinda like our sparring matches and you just don’t do it anymore.” He followed her. “What gives?”
“It’s my fault my Captain is in the 4th squad relief station. He almost got killed, and it’s my fault. Happy?” She got to the bottle and drank straight from it, a long gulp.
He watched her. “No.”
“No what?” she asked, wiping away some sake that had trailed down her chin.
“I’m not happy.” He came over to her and took the bottle of sake from her and looked at it.
“Give it back,” she said, her voice low.
“You need a better distraction than sake, and I want you back to normal,” he said. “Fight with me.”
“Fight with you?” she asked.
“Grab your sword, follow me back to where I usually fight Kenpachi and fight with me. I’ll even take it easy on you.” She looked at him for a moment, and then reached for the sake bottle. He kept it out of her reach and she glared at him. “When we’re done you can come back and drink yourself stupid.”
She let her hand drop, and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll fight you.”
“Good,” he said with a smirk.
--
The fight was short and brutal, but in the end it had devolved into a shouting match as insults were thrown back and forth. He really had taken it easy on her, but she figured he wanted the verbal sparring more than the swordplay in the first place. And…she felt better. She felt anger, she felt satisfaction when she was able to cut him, she felt other things, and none of them were guilt, the heavy ache of guilt she’d carried for the last week. Fighting him with her sword made he feel normal. Fighting him with her words made her feel normal, and she grasped onto that feeling and held onto it tightly.
They stopped fighting with swords when it became apparent that neither of them were interested in a physical fight anymore. She got up in his face, he got up in hers, there were insults and threats and…and then for some reason there was a kiss. It was rough and hard and by no means gentle or compassionate. It was raw, as was the sudden rush of need that filled her up. For the first time she didn’t look at him as an enemy to fight. She looked at him as someone she would very much like to take to bed. She took a step back and looked at him. She saw something in his eyes, something alongside the obvious attraction. She saw surprise, and she was pretty sure the same look was etched on her face as well.
“This is not right,” she said. “I don’t like you.”
“You’re just lying to yourself,” he said.
“Yeah? What about you?”
“I don’t lie to myself,” he said. “I don’t know what just happened, but I liked it. And admit it. You liked it too.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But…I need to think. I need to go.” She grabbed her sword from where she had dropped it and began to head away from the secluded area where they had been fighting. He caught up with her in four steps and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She turned, looked at his hand on her arm and then him. “What?”
“Don’t think,” he said.
“And just act on instinct?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I…can’t. So let go of me.” She expected him to argue, but he simply let go of her arm. She turned again and began to walk quickly, afraid he’d catch up to her again and force her to do what she really wanted to do, which was to strip him down and have sex right then and there. She just couldn’t bring herself to give in to this instinct, though. It just…no, she thought to herself. She could control it, she could pretend that that wasn’t what she really wanted. She had to, for her own sake.