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100 Theme Challenge 64 Style	By : GrimmUlquigrrrl Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ulquiorra Views: 1631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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4. Darkness

It was so dark.

Grimmjow knew from the burn of the sun that it had to be early afternoon, but the thick black blindfold that covered his eyes kept the light away from him. His blindness terrified him in the position he was in. He had been knocked out and dragged back behind the school, and when he'd woken up he'd been blindfolded, his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied to the pole behind him so that he had to keep his knees up by his shoulders- and he was completely nude.

The very first thing he immediately felt was that there were people surrounding him, and that put him on edge. From the feel of the wooden pole behind him he would guess that he was up against the telephone pole a ways behind the small one-story school, and just like everything else it was in the middle of an endless sea of flat, dirt-covered ground. He knew people could see him from all sides.

He had heard the click of a marker cap coming off and someone leaned into him, and they all chuckled cruelly as whoever had the Sharpie began to write on the bottom of his upturned thighs. He'd tried to squirm away, but where could he have gone? He could trace the letters mentally as they were written: Fuck me!, and Please Use Freely with an arrow drawn to his exposed hole. His stomach had flip-flopped. He knew he had made enemies, but this-this was- panic roared in him. A harsh fist connected with his gut, and then they began.

It had to have been hours that he'd been tied up there, and during that time dozens of people had come by and used him. He had figured that these were people who didn't actually know him, who had nothing against him but saw him up there for their pleasure and took him. He'd given up trying to scream. He knew he had bruises all over from where people had hit and kicked him, and his hole was ripped up and bloodied and oozing with other men's semen. His whole body was screaming at him, and his aggression had given way to a feeling of pathetic fear. He had a numb, sinking feeling that he was going to die tied up there if he didn't get water.

He immediately tensed when he heard the crunch of feet coming his way. It sounded like only one person, but Grimmjow wasn't sure he would survive one more. The walking got closer and closer, and finally the person stopped right in front of him and just stared. Grimmjow's fear had grown until he was shaking with the need to run, but he knew that he was completely helpless.

The person kneeled in front of Grimmjow, and something in Grimmjow wailed in despair. If he was kneeling in front then he was going to ass rape him, and though doing it orally was more humiliating Grimmjow would much rather have taken it that way than have someone pounding into him. He hurt so bad. At least in the mouth he didn't bleed. The person leaned forward and Grimmjow twitches heavily as he felt cool hands brushing his face. He shuddered, waiting for the impact.

He squinted as the blindfold was lifted off and the light came flying back. For a second the yellow-white was glaring and as blinding as the darkness, but a few blinks and the haze sharpened and saw Ulquiorra Schiffer's big green eyes staring at him. Ulquiorra was a senior this year, one year older than Grimmjow, and was the last person Grimmjow had wanted to come across him like this. He realized that he must have looked like a frightened animal to the older boy.

But he didn't see any of the crushing indifference or even the damnable pity that he'd expected. For once, though Ulquiorra's expression wasn't any different than usual, he seemed warmer- almost understanding. And when he spoke, his voice wasn't as sharp and cutting.

"Do you know who tied you up like this, Grimmjow?" he asked, as if he were talking to a peer. Grimmjow couldn't hold his gaze and looked away at the ground as he shook his head. He couldn't speak.

"Alright," Ulquiorra said, pulling a pocketknife out of his front jeans pocket and flicking it open. The sight of the shining blade made Grimmjow's throat constrict in horror. "Hold still," Ulquiorra ordered, leaning forward until his chest almost touched Grimmjow's and he could look over Grimmjow's shoulder and see his target.

Grimmjow felt Ulquiorra's arms wrap around him to his back and screwed his eyes shut, every muscle tensing as he waited for the sting of the cut. He could feel Ulquiorra working with the knife, and then the rope holding his ankles close went slack and Grimmjow's legs fell flat against the ground. The sudden movement made him choke on pain as the muscles around his hole changed positions, but it was an immediate relief- Ulquiorra hadn't hurt him.

Ulquiorra leaned back, sitting on his legs again. Grimmjow just looked at him in disbelief; the friendly feeling of understanding hadn't been an act. Still, when Ulquiorra pulled his white t-shirt over his head to expose his built torso Grimmjow realized that the knife was still in Ulquiorra's hand and his own hands were still tied behind his back. The only way he could defend himself was with his legs, and he wasn't sure he could move them.

Inside himself he knew that he had no reason to distrust Ulquiorra, but the past few hours had degenerated him, regressed him back to his most primal fears. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to return to himself.

Ulquiorra lay his shirt across Grimmjow's lap, using it to cover him up, and Grimmjow calmed. Honestly, Grimmjow was grateful for the coverage and was glad Ulquiorra had thought about that- it gave him back just a tiny shred of his decency, and with it came some reasoning. Grimmjow only jumped a little when Ulquiorra leaned forward again to saw at the ropes holding his hands. Somehow, knowing that his most intimate places were covered again made him feel so much more secure.

He pulled his hand out from behind his back, wincing as his shoulders creaked from the prolonged position they'd been in. He heard Ulquiorra close the pocket knife and slide it back away and relaxed, but he didn't look up from rubbing his red wrists. Now that his incredible panic wasn't a rising bile in his throat, due in part to having his hands free again, it took all his effort not to think about it and he knew that if he looked at Ulquiorra's face he would see the truth of what happened. At the moment it seemed more surreal than anything, and Grimmjow would like to keep it that way, at least until he was away from Ulquiorra.

He really didn't want the other boy to see him break.

"We need to get you to a hospital," Ulquiorra said, and reflexively Grimmjow went to stand up. All he did was pull one foot close to him, not even hefting himself up, and a wave of pain paralyzed him. He gasped, and immediately Ulquiorra's hand was on his shoulder. "Don't try to walk, I'll carry you," he said quickly, stooping down next to Grimmjow and slipping one hand behind the small of Grimmjow's back and the other under his knees. He hoisted the muscled young man up easily, as if he weighed nothing.

Ulquiorra's firm hold wasn't terrifying as Grimmjow thought it would be, but comforting, and Grimmjow's right side warmed with the heat of Ulquiorra's built chest. The shirt remained in its place, and as Grimmjow was carried further from the cum-stained telephone pole his tenseness abated. He was safe.

Safe. The word shook him. Safe meant no one else would take his battered body, safe meant that he didn't have to be afraid anymore. And then it sunk in. He had just been raped, tied up to a pole, blinded and robbed of his innocence in the most brutal of ways. He had been forced to take other men's cocks and been filled with other men's seed. He had been used like a toy or a napkin, and he had been beaten to the point of deep-set bruises. One of his ribs was likely broken.

He felt hot tears well up in his eyes, his chest seizing. No. He didn't want Ulquiorra to see him cry. Already the other had seen him weak and afraid, he didn't need to see him completely shatter. But Grimmjow couldn't hold back is overwhelming grief, and no matter how tightly he closed his eyes he couldn't keep his tears from leaking down his face.

He buried his face in Ulquiorra's collarbone, restraining his sobs into gasps. He looped one arm behind Ulquiorra's back and pressed it against the other's shoulder blade, using it to force his face closer to Ulquiorra's reassuring warmth as if by keeping Ulquiorra from seeing him he could also keep him from hearing or feeling him. His shoulders shook hard, his whole body quivering. His injured rib protested the movement, but he couldn't stop it. Ulquiorra kept walking forward silently.

Grimmjow's whole body ached. His chest was burning, and his head was throbbing from where he was knocked out, and his wrists chafed from the ropes, and he had splinters in his back from squirming against the pole. His throat hurt from being stretched by other men's members and from closing up as he cried, and his jaw pulsed from where he ground his teeth through the agony. His cheek stung from where he was slapped, and his hole sent jolts of white-hot pain shooting up his spine. He didn't know how he was supposed to cope with this, or why it had happened to him. He didn't know if he could ever come back to this school again or face a stranger in this town again.

But the darkness was gone.
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100 Theme Challenge 64 Style