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The Silence Between	By : KaiBlueOtaku Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The talented Tite Kubo is the owner of Bleach, and all its characters. I am merely borrowing them to tell my story. I own only my plot and ideas. I receive no financial compensation for my writing.

Chapter List
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DISCLAIMER: The talented Tite Kubo is the owner of Bleach, and all its characters. I am merely borrowing them to tell my story. I own only my plot and ideas. I receive no financial compensation for my writing.
WARNINGS: Mild sexual situations, wet dreams, voyeurism, bloodplay-ish situation, graphic violence/gore, food(?) porn, Dom/sub, language.
A/N: Back to my favorite pairing… I love to work on this piece. Things will get a little more intense now. I have listed a warning of “food(?) porn,” because Nova accompanies Ulquiorra on his hunt, and, well… If you’ve been following up to this point, you know how Nova feels about watching Ulquiorra eat raw meat. Much less hot, bleeding raw meat…

WWWWWWWWWW

                Nova woke to see Ulquiorra lying next to him. This would have been a relief, for once, except for the fact that his eyes were open, and he was scrutinizing the Mod Soul intensely. Nova’s own eyes widened, and he rolled away from Ulquiorra, drawing his knees up a bit. “Good morning,” he said softly.

                “Good morning,” Ulquiorra replied, still burning holes in the back of his head with his penetrating gaze. They lay like that for a while, and finally Ulquiorra got up and collected a clean change of clothes and a towel, and went silently off to the shower.

                Nova sighed in relief, and flopped onto his back with embarrassment, the cause of it suddenly painfully visible as the blanket was tented above his midsection. He felt the cooling of moisture on the front of his pajama pants, and realized in horror that he must have had a wet dream sometime this morning. He didn’t clearly recall the details, but the embarrassment of considering that Ulquiorra might have seen or heard something… It was unthinkable. He threw back the blanket, cursing, and did his best to clean himself up without the aid of a shower or a sink, then changed into something that wasn’t soiled, pitching the damp pants into the laundry basket, thankful that if Ulquiorra had seen or heard something, that at least he’d had the decency to not mention it.

                Ulquiorra had in fact seen or heard something. Quite a lot of both in fact, and then some. And he was having some difficulty with the fact that he could not un-hear or see those things. He’d been woken by the turbulent lashing of Nova’s reiatsu as he slept, soon followed by the familiar scent of pheromones, and slight dreaming whimpers and moans that sent shivers though the Espada’s body, stilling his breath as he observed the passionate expressions that chased across Nova’s face. Winces that bordered on pain, except for the distinctively pleasurable vocalizations he was uttering, driving Ulquiorra insane, trapped as he was beside him in the bed. He wanted to get up and escape this torment of watching the Mod Soul in the clutches of such an obviously personal dream, and was just about to risk the chance of waking him, when he’d heard something that had rocked his world to its foundations.

                Amidst the indistinguishable groans and grunts, one word came out as clear as a bell.

                One name, actually. Uttered in a breathy, lusty whisper that made Ulquiorra himself go half hard at the sound of his own name spilling across those lips in such a tone of voice. There could be no doubting it now, he realized; the Mod Soul wanted him, even if he was unable to speak his feelings when awake.

                The only question that remained was: did Ulquiorra feel the same? It was a question he wasn’t ready to answer yet, though. Certainly he was aroused at times by this individual, but he sensed there was more to all this than mere carnal desire, and Ulquiorra wasn’t about to show his hand until he grasped the other half of the equation more fully. Maybe in the hunt today, something would be revealed.

                Ulquiorra showered quickly, and then dressed. He knew he would have to get out of this bulky gigai in order to hunt, and hoped that Nova knew an easy method, because he didn’t have the slightest clue where to begin.

                Toweling his hair dry as he went to the kitchen, he saw that Nova was already washing his plate, having eaten an extremely light breakfast. He turned to Ulquiorra. “Are you going to eat here, or did you want to hunt first thing?”

                “Hunt,” Ulquiorra said, watching Nova for a reaction. It was much more subtle and controlled this time, though the astute Arrancar picked up on the little signs easily all the same.

                “Alright, come with me.” Nova led the curious Ulquiorra to the front of the shop and searched the shelves for a particular item. Finding what he was looking for, he carefully lifted a single black fingerless glove and slipped his hand into it. “Gokon tekko,” Nova stated, as if that phrase meant anything at all to Ulquiorra, who just shrugged and shook his head in confusion. He understood instantly though as Nova slammed the gloved hand into his chest and clean through it, pushing the soul from his gigai as the artificial body collapsed to the floor in a heap. Ulquiorra inspected himself, nodding in approval of the method as Nova carefully stripped off the glove and returned it to the shelf of the store. “Ready?” he asked, tightening the straps on his backpack.

                “Do you think you can keep up?” Ulquiorra asked, and Nova felt almost as if the Espada was taunting him. One glance revealed that, while still thin, the Arrancar before him was worlds stronger than the fragile being he’d found unconscious and ragged on the stairs just days before.

                “No problem,” Nova asserted, narrowing his eyes in challenge as the Arrancar burst into motion. He surprisingly didn’t have much difficulty at all keeping pace with Ulquiorra, though he knew that if he’d used his sonido, there would have been little chance, since Nova was not trained in the Shinigami art of shunpo.

                A few paces behind him, Nova watched the magnificent spectacle of Ulquiorra in motion, the ease with which he leapt atop obstacles, roof-running and crossing the gaps between buildings with such practiced grace and poise. They came rather quickly to the edge of town, and Ulquiorra paused, kneeling. Nova was about to ask him what he was doing, when the Espada held up a hand for silence. “Pesquisa. Sensing for any Hollow nearby,” he offered, and Nova nodded, understanding. Ulquiorra seemed to listen intently, and then turned sharply toward the trees beyond the last houses at the edge of town, and exploded back into motion again, Nova struggling to keep up this time as the Espada was now using short bursts of sonido to catch up to the quarry he had in his sights.

                In a clearing just beyond the tree line, they found what they were looking for; a smallish Hollow, about the size and shape of a large dog, with very long, sharp claws, and a barbed tail. Ulquiorra motioned for Nova to keep back, and approached the creature, circling like a wrestler, looking for an opening. The Hollow growled and hissed, backing away, realizing it was much weaker than the being before it, and instead, decided to make a break for it.

                Unfortunately, the creature went directly for Nova, perhaps hoping that attacking Ulquiorra’s companion would distract him long enough for the Hollow to make a clean getaway. Nova stepped back, trying quickly to charge his teleportation ability to redirect the Hollow away from him, knowing he was no match for the monster’s speed. It slashed at him with its long claws and he held his hands out in front of his body in self defense.

                Ulquiorra came from the side, shouldering into the smaller creature, grabbing its head and snapping its neck with a deafening crack. The Hollow fell limply at his feet, and Ulquiorra gave it a soft kick with the toe of his shoe, just to be sure it was dead.

                “Oi, what the…”

                Ulquiorra glanced up to spot a Shinigami near the opposite edge of the clearing, zanupakto drawn. Clearly, he had been on the trail of the same Hollow, only Ulquiorra had gotten to it first. The bright orange hair identified the young man as none other than the infamous Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute Soul Reaper. He gripped the hilt of his ridiculously large sword and steadied his stance, eyes narrowing. “Ulquiorra? But, how…”

                “I am no threat to you, Ichigo Kurosaki,” the Espada proclaimed, stepping protectively over his kill, as if the Shinigami might decide to try and take it from him. “I am merely hunting. I am supervised,” he added, indicating Nova behind him at the tree line. “I am minding my own business. Be on your way. If you have any questions, address them to the shop keeper. Now if you will excuse me, my meal is getting cold.”

                He watched as Ichigo wavered, then put his sword away. “Alright, I think I’ll do just that,” he said with a hint of skepticism, as if perhaps this was some clever ploy to deceive him. He gave a final glance to the dead Hollow at Ulquiorra’s feet and shuddered at the prospect of anyone eating such a reprehensible thing, but shook his head and moved on, presumably on his way to the Urahara Shoten, to verify this information independently with the shop keeper, as suggested.

                Ulquiorra turned and glanced at Nova, who was holding his wrist tight, staring intently at his left hand. Ulquiorra came over quickly, and his concerns were confirmed when he saw that the Hollow’s slashing claws had made contact with Nova’s palm. His glove was fairly soaked in blood, and his brow furrowed in silent anguish.

                The Espada gave an annoyed tsk, and reached for the glove, gently tugging it off to inspect the wound better. Nova hissed in pain, but allowed Ulquiorra to remove the ruined garment. He took the Mod Soul’s hand in his own and inspected it carefully. “This is very deep, and you are bleeding quite a lot,” Ulquiorra observed, lips tight in thought. He glanced up toward the town, as if judging the distance to the shoten, and then glanced back at the dead Hollow nearby in the grass, considering the fact that his meal was getting colder by the moment.

                Nova watched as Ulquiorra did the unthinkable; he licked the Mod Soul’s palm. Nova made a choking sound and tried to pull away in horror, but Ulquiorra just gave him a withering glare, gripping his wrist all the tighter with both hands.

                The Mod Soul quivered breathlessly as Ulquiorra continued to lap at the deep wound, his hot, wet tongue dragging sensually across the ragged flesh. Nova struggled, trying to fight the autonomic response that was rising in him. Ulquiorra noted the half-lidded eyes and the flush coloring across Nova’s nose, and smirked to himself. A response hadn’t been his intention, but he was enjoying it nevertheless. He reduced the speed of his motions, dragging painstakingly slowly over the wound, working up a mouthful of spit at one point and drooling it into Nova’s palm, working it into the flesh with his tongue. Nova shivered bodily, and made stifled sounds that reminded Ulquiorra all too much of this early morning’s prior events.

                As Nova looked on, helpless beneath the Arrancar’s ministrations, his attention piqued. Was it just his imagination, or did it seem that the wound was a little smaller, perhaps less ragged around the perimeter? He watched with amazement as, within a matter of minutes, the raw edges of the laceration knit themselves back together, leaving only unbroken, pale flesh. Ulquiorra made a final pass with his tongue, then straightened, licking his lips to catch any errant spittle that might be clinging ungracefully there. Nova clenched and unclenched his fist, wiggling his fingers, testing his hand. It felt completely normal.

                “Is it satisfactory?” Ulquiorra asked, watching the range of motion exercises.

                “More than so, thank you,” Nova replied, staring intently at the Espada. “How did you…”

                “Instant regeneration,” Ulquiorra said, cutting him off. “It is one of my specific skills, uncommon among those Arrancar of my power level. The power extends to my bodily fluids, including my blood and saliva, though I thought it might be rather uncouth of me to bleed all over you.”

                Nova felt that the Arrancar might be attempting to make a joke, but he wasn’t quite sure. He watched Ulquiorra go over to the corpse of the Hollow and crouch down over it, then pause, and look to Nova, who settled on the ground and leaned against a tree. “You may not wish to watch. This will be rather more gruesome than what you saw in the kitchen at the shoten.”

                He nodded in acknowledgement, but Nova could not bring himself to look away. Ulquiora waited a moment and then, seeing that Nova wanted to watch after all, shrugged and gave a faint smirk as he leaned into the Hollow and sank his teeth into the belly of the beast, tearing the dark flesh. Blood pooled quickly under the body as he continued to rip chunks of skin and sinew from the side of the creature, opening a wide hole. Then, pushing his sleeves up, he reached into the body cavity, rooting around. He seemed to find what he was looking for, but paused, eyeing Nova severely. “Remove your hood,” he commanded.

                “Whuh…?” Nova shook himself a little out of his enthrallment, confused by the request.

                “I said, remove your hood,” Ulquiorra repeated.

                “But… Why?”

                The Arrancar’s eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed into a tight line. Very softly, almost inaudibly, he whispered, “I wish to see your face. Now remove the hood. Do not make me ask again.”

                Nova’s pulse quickened, as did his breath, but he obeyed, tugging the hood off.

                Ulquiorra hummed in approval and the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. He then twisted his arm firmly, a wet snapping noise was to be heard, followed by the squelching of organs displacing as Ulquiorra withdrew his hand, revealing his prize; the heart of the dead Hollow. He regarded it briefly, speaking to Nova as he did so. “It is said that Hollow have no heart, but that is not strictly true. How, after all, does a living thing survive without the means to circulate its lifeblood through its body?” He gave a sidelong glance at the Mod Soul, who was watching, enrapt, mouth slightly agape. “The heart that is missing is the theoretical heart, the emotional heart, the portion which, in humans, is capable of love.” He bit into the organ, blood running down his chin, tissue ripping, and he chewed thoughtfully, mouth closed, watching Nova.

                For the first time, Nova seemed almost unaware of Ulquiorra’s eyes on him. He was caught in a nearly hypnotic trance, leaning forward, watching Ulquiorra consuming the heart with a strange combination of curiosity and arousal. When he had finished the heart, he reached into the cavity of the creature again, and felt around until he again located his objective, and pressed a second hand into the opening to wrench it loose, withdrawing the dark, slick liver of the Hollow. “The liver is high in nutrients, it will accelerate my healing,” he mentioned, as though he were teaching some weird sort of biology class. He paused, and held it toward Nova. “Would you… like to try some?”

                Nova stopped breathing then. His world spun around him. Had he just heard that correctly? Did Ulquiorra offer to share his kill? Nova wasn’t sure, but he somehow felt this was very significant and unusual, and so he swallowed hard and nodded, not wanting to offend.

                Ulquiorra gave a slight chuckle, sending a prickling sensation up Nova’s spine. “Come here then,” Ulquiorra whispered, a tone that Nova thought bordered on sensual while still remaining commanding, and the Mod Soul obeyed without a thought, crawling across the short distance to kneel at his side. Ulquiorra held the liver toward Nova, and the Mod Soul hesitated momentarily, looking back and forth from the bloody organ to Ulquiorra’s face. The Espada leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “It cannot harm you, Nova. It is only meat. Take a bite.”

                Nova nodded numbly, and obeyed, leaning in and closing his lips around the offering, teeth tearing, chewing as the metallic flavor filled his mouth. Ulquiorra hummed again in approval, his breath hot and puffing on Nova’s ear. “Well done, Nova,” he whispered, and a shiver of delight ran through the Mod Soul at the words of praise. Ulquiorra sat back finally, and tore into the liver himself, finishing the rest of it in short order. Nova finally felt like he could breathe again once Ulquiorra backed off a little, out of his immediate space, though they were still close enough to be rubbing elbows now and again.

                He couldn’t explain it, but the Espada’s intensity gave him a sense of calm wellbeing, and something like tunnel-vision, strangely enough. He trusted Ulquiorra implicitly, and knew the Arrancar would never wish to harm him. It was a little overwhelming, admittedly, but it was a wonderful experience, all the same.

                Ulquiorra regarded the glassy-eyed Mod Soul at his side as he was finishing his meal. He seemed to be almost in some sort of blissful torpor, Ulquiorra noted, and thought that was first of all very peculiar, and secondly, incredibly arousing. How is he so placid and compliant? he wondered, followed by, How far would his obedience go? Ulquiorra decided he was very much stimulated by the idea of testing the Mod Soul’s obedience, playing the part of the benevolent master to this seductively submissive and beautiful young man, who, whether he knew it or not, was incredibly eager to be dominated.

                When Ulquiorra had eaten his fill, he stood to go, but it was clear that Nova was still blissed-out, and not participating fully in reality at this point. Ulquiorra smirked, somehow pleased by this, and looked around, listening. He heard running water somewhere nearby, so stood and hoisted the slender man into his arms, moving with sonido to bring them to the side of a river. Ulquiorra carefully lay Nova along the grassy bank, and turned to wash the dried blood from his arms and face in the cold, swift-flowing water. Then, cupping his hands, he collected some of the water, and brought it to Nova’s lips.

                The Mod Soul seemed to come back a little at this point, from wherever he was drifting, at least enough to eagerly drink the water offered to him, several times over. He then sighed, satisfied, and lay back in the grass, but began to shiver a little. Ulquiorra grew concerned at this, and collected him back up in his arms, using sonido to return them to the shoten, where Ulquiorra settled Nova in his bed, covering him in the blanket. The Espada moved to stand, but Nova reached out with an air of desperation, babbling something incoherent. It was clear that he was delusional, but just as clear to Ulquiorra that he was in distress, and wanted him to stay.

                He shushed the Mod Soul, and wrapped the blanket around him, climbing behind him, leaning against the wall as he pulled Nova into his lap, embracing him. Nova let out a soft sigh and melted into Ulquiorra, drifting again in and out of that seeming-delirious half-sleep, and the Espada considered his predicament.

                Everything about this was completely illogical… But it felt so pleasant, and so right. Ulquiorra wasn’t sure if this had anything to do with ‘heart,’ or ‘love,’ but as he regarded the magnificently beautiful young man in his arms, brushing red hair out of his eyes, he felt a sense of loyalty, and a deep desire to protect him from harm, at any cost.

WWWWWWWWWW

                They must have laid like that for a couple of hours, Ulquiorra just holding Nova while the Mod Soul drifted between wakefulness and slumber, sometimes murmuring nonsensical things or giggling to himself as he snuggled comfortably into the Espada. Ulquiorra wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but he just knew he should remain with Nova until he came back around.

                That happened in the worst possible way.

                Ulquiorra noticed that the playful murmurings and giggling had transformed into sniffling and weeping, which quickly became uncontrolled sobs. He took Nova by the chin and tipped his face up, and suddenly, his eyes came into sharp focus on the Arrancar, still out of his gigai, and the look that crossed his face was something that crushed Ulquiorra in the deepest part of him.

                Sheer terror.

                Nova scrambled to escape, panicked and irrational, but Ulquiorra held him tightly, his compact muscles finding no trouble, easily restraining the lean and lanky Mod Soul. He leaned in close to Nova’s ear, whispering soft assurances of comfort, trying to calm him, which eventually, did seem to take. Nova turned and buried his face in Ulquiorra’s uniform, tears soaking into the soft linen as he clutched fistfuls of the cloth in his clenched fingers.

                He finally calmed, and sat up a bit, looking around. When he realized his questionable and somewhat compromising position, he gently pushed back. Ulquiorra eyed him, but he seemed to be perfectly alert and aware at this point, not panicked and disoriented any longer, and so he released him, still watching carefully. Nova raised a hand to the side of his head. “Where… Where am I?”

                “You room, at the Shoten,” Ulquiorra replied.

                Nova looked around, confused. “We were hunting… I mean, you were hunting, but I was there, and…” He shook his head. “What happened?”

                “I could ask you much the same thing,” Ulquiorra stated. “Tell me, are you prone to seizures, or epileptic fits of any kind?”

                Nova’s eyes widened in shock, and he sat back on his heels. “What? No! I mean, not that I know of… Did I hit my head or something?”

                Ulquiorra’s eyes narrowed, and he regarded Nova somewhat suspiciously. “What do you remember?”

                Nova stared off to his right, thinking. “We were in the forest. My hand got cut…” He looked down at his palm, then embarrassed horror washed over his face, and he held his hand to his chest. “You…”

                Ulquiorra nodded and gestured dismissively. “Yes. Go on.”

                “Kurosaki showed up, then left. You told me to…” His hand shot to his face. “Where’s my hood?”

                “In your pocket,” Ulquiorra told him. “Please, continue.”

                Nova shook his head. “I think I remember eating something… And then, I was here.”

                “You lost a lot of time, between those points,” Ulquiorra observed. “Where did you go? You were not present, you seemed to be…” He fumbled for the correct term, and finally settled on, “…’Elsewhere.’”

                Nova’s face reddened a bit, and he gave a dreamy smile, his vision going soft and distant. “I… I’m not sure. Somewhere nice. Safe. I knew I was safe.” He shrugged, and looked down shyly. “You brought me back here, didn’t you? You took care of me.”

                “Yes.”

                They sat in silence for several minutes, Nova seemingly remembering the ‘nice’ place he had gone away to, and Ulquiorra pondering the strangeness of it all, until then Nova blurted out something that made his face redden even further.

                “Would you… Hold me? Please…”

                Ulquiorra sighed, and Nova looked up sharply, saddened, thinking that he’d made the Espada exasperated with his silly request. But he saw quite the opposite in his eyes. There was satisfaction there; a pleased, welcoming, comforting softness, and Ulquiorra opened his arms, spreading the blanket. “Of course. Come.”

                Nova choked a little, a tear slipping down his cheek, and he crawled across the futon, into the open arms that closed around him, wrapping him in warmth and pure contentment. Nova sank into the cradling embrace, a few tears slipping down his cheeks and a ragged breath hitching in his chest as Ulquiorra’s thumb wiped at the wetness. “Shhh,” Ulquiorra said, leaning low over the Mod Soul. “Do not weep. You are safe here. I will not allow any harm to befall you. You are under my protection from now on. Do you understand this?”

                Nova shuddered, and nodded, nestling closer. A deep fulfillment washed over him, and he whimpered with pitiful pleasure as Ulquiorra began to stroke his hair. He looked up, brows furrowed. “I’m supposed to be the one watching over you though.”

                “We will watch over one another,” Ulquiorra clarified. “Care for each other. Once my strength has returned fully, I will be the stronger of us. And I will protect you.”

                “Is this because you feel you’re indebted to me, for saving your life?” Nova asked, sadness in his tone. He didn’t want that to be the reason. This was all so wonderful, but if that was the only cause for it all, it ruined everything, made it all seem worthless somehow.

                “No,” Ulquiorra said firmly. “I do not claim to understand the ‘heart,’ or ‘love,’ but I want to protect you, because I do not wish you to know harm. The smile on your face, brings me a satisfaction in the core of my being which I have never known. To see you in fear, or pain, shatters me in that deep place. Perhaps one such as myself is not capable of love, but this much, at least, I have to offer you.”

                Nova nodded, understanding, and buried his face in Ulquiorra’s chest.

WWWWWWWWWW

                Around noon, the two managed to disentangle themselves and retrieved Ulquiorra’s gigai from behind the counter, where Ururu had managed to drag it somehow. They then went to the kitchen so Nova could make himself some lunch. Ulquiorra claimed to still be full from his hunt, but suggested that he might wish to go out again after everyone else had already taken their dinner, closer to dusk. Nova was somewhat leery of this idea after the strange occurrences the first time, but a few words of comforting assurance from Ulquiorra were all that was needed to set him at ease.

                The Espada was surprised at how quickly Nova was coerced. He observed him carefully this time, and offered him gentle words to allay his concerns, and watched as that calmness came over Nova, reminiscent of the more severe form of torpor from the hunt that morning. He seems so subdued, Ulquiorra thought to himself, and then a shocking thought struck him. Exactly that, he realized. Submissive. Surrendered to my Dominance. Ulquiorra was deeply pleased by this discovery, though he kept it to himself for the time being, and began testing it in small ways throughout the remainder of the day.

                Nova was easily pressed to give right-of-way in confined spaces, Ulquiorra found, such as the kitchen or the hallways, though this was something he had already somewhat known. For this, only his presence was needed, and a severe look, and the Mod Soul shrank a bit, yielding by minimizing the space he occupied, pressing against a wall or a counter until Ulquiorra had passed.

                Some time before dinner, they were lounging idly on the couch, both doing some light, recreational reading, when a thought occurred to Ulquiorra. “Nova?” The Mod Soul pressed his book to his chest, looking up with an attentive, eager look in his eye. “Would you be so kind as to make us some tea?”

                “No problem,” Nova replied and instantly stood, slipping his bookmark into place and laying the book on the end table. Ulquiorra reached out and touched his hand as he went past, and Nova paused, turning back to look.

                “Thank you, Nova,” Ulquiorra said, sure to impart a weight to the way in which he said the words, testing the response.

                Nova gasped a little, eyelids fluttering, a red blush coloring the bridge of his nose, and he cast his gaze to the side and downward. “No problem,” he whispered, very nearly inaudibly, and Ulquiorra withdrew his touch as Nova continued to the kitchen, leaving behind the slightest, musky scent of pheromones.

                He is eager to serve, Ulquiorra considered, and wondered how else he could accommodate this strange pleasure they shared of him being dominant, and Nova submitting.

                Meanwhile in the kitchen, Nova was feeling a bit rattled and giddy as he prepared the tea. He’d been wondering all evening if Ulquiorra was angry with him for some reason, if he’d done something wrong, or perhaps he was upset about the strange ‘episode’ from the hunt this morning, and Nova’s strange need to be comforted. At nearly every turn, it seemed like he was in Ulquiorra’s way, constantly trying to accommodate him by moving aside.

                But the ‘thank you’ just now… Nova shuddered, placing his hands flat on the counter to steady himself, breathing with intentionally slow inhalations to will his racing heart to return to a more regular pace. That made it all worth it, every scathing glare and severe look all afternoon, redeemed by those three little words, “Thank you, Nova.”

                He had pleased him. This impossibly cold and seemingly self-sufficient individual, who needed nothing and no one, least of all a babysitter, much less one who seemed to be constantly in the way… He had managed to please him. And with this realization, the peace he was becoming so familiar with lately crept over him, bathing his soul in quiet and calm. It brought him joy to no end, that he had found a way to be of some service to Ulquiorra, even in some inconsequential manner, such as making him tea. Nova smiled behind his mask and closed his eyes, sighing in satisfaction.

                This, he thought as the kettle heated, this is the meaning and purpose I have been searching for. The equal, who sees me for who I truly am, not as ‘less-than,’ who can appreciate my service, and to whom I can offer myself, pledge loyalty, and strive to please.

                When the tea had finished brewing, Nova brought the tray with cups, saucers, and some crackers and cookies, and set it on the couch. He then kneeled on the floor and poured cups for both him and Ulquiorra, who watched this process with keen interest. He wasn’t sure if Nova was aware of what he had just done or not, but he had put himself in a position more like that of a servant, head lower than the master’s, pouring the tea.

                Ulquiorra locked eyes with Nova when he turned to hand him his tea, taking it without breaking the contact, and asked, “Nova, would you remove your hood?”

                He balked at this, and Ulquiorra understood why. Nova hid behind the hood, it gave him a sense of protection. But at this moment, Ulquiorra wanted to see him laid bare, vulnerable, every expression readable. Ulquiorra smirked slightly at his hesitation, but knew exactly how to coerce him to his will. He slid off the couch and crouched beside the now-quivering Mod Soul, and whispered in his ear, “I wish to see your face, Nova. Remove the hood.”

                Just the right balance of sternness and velvet, and off the hood came. “Well done, Nova,” Ulquiorra murmured, lips barely brushing his ear, causing Nova to stifle a whimper and gasp, slumping in tingling bliss. So simple, and yet so satisfying, Ulquiorra thought, standing and seating himself again on the couch, crossing his leg so the slight swell of his own erection would not be as immediately evident as Nova’s was. The Mod Soul continued to kneel, panting somewhat, pulling himself back together as the Espada sipped his tea. “Join me on the couch,” Ulquiorra said, neither a request nor a demand, but more an offer, perhaps. Nova nodded numbly and rose, taking a seat and lifting his tea cup from the tray, sipping at it.

                Ulquiorra turned his head sharply when some motion caught his eye. The shop keeper was standing in the doorway, watching them with a peculiar expression. Ulquiorra had been so focused on Nova, he hadn’t even sensed Urahara come up. Who knew how long he’d been standing there, watching their strange interaction, but something about the look on his face told Ulquiorra; long enough.

                “What are you boys up to?” Kisuke asked, his choice of words betraying more suspicion than his tone, which he somehow managed to keep remarkably casual and unassumingly conversational.

                Nova snapped out of his daze and looked up with a ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ expression, realizing for the first time that there was someone else in the room.

                “Having tea,” Ulquiorra replied simply. “Will you join us?”

                The sharp grey eyes of the shop keeper narrowed incrementally. “Not tonight, no, but thank you. I will take tea with you both tomorrow, however, after you return from hunting.”

                “We would enjoy that,” Ulquiorra replied cordially, and Nova nodded in agreement.

                Kisuke glanced back and forth between the two of them a final time, and then nodded and turned, leaving them alone again in the room.

                After finishing their tea, and later dinner, Ulquiorra went out in the waning light of dusk to hunt, Nova on his heels. He was not as successful tonight though as he’d been earlier that day, and he wished regretfully that he’d brought the remains of the other Hollow back to the Shoten, to butcher for storage, for such a case as this. There was still Hollow stew though in the refrigerator, he recalled, and knew he would have to settle for that, making a mental note to never waste a kill like that again, but then recalling that he’d had more important priorities at that time. He chalked it up to experience, and they returned to the Shoten.

                There had been silence between them since taking tea together. Not the uncomfortable kind, as there had been in days past, but rather the easy, familiar sort of silence of mutual understanding, the kind that words could not do justice to.

                After getting back into his gigai and eating, Ulquiorra went to the shower. When he realized that he’d forgotten his pajamas and towel, he decided to test the submissiveness of Nova one final time for the night. “Nova?” he called, sensing the Mod Soul was waiting just outside the bathroom door.

                The door cracked slightly, enough to let in the reply of, “Yes?”

                “Would you bring me a towel, and pajamas?”

                “No problem.” The door shut, and a few minutes later, reopened as a hand clutching the requested items was thrust through.

                Ulquiorra addressed him in the calm, commanding tone that he knew seemed to melt the man to his every whim. “I asked if you would bring them to me.”

                The door slid slowly open, and Nova entered, eyes downcast, breath quick and shallow. He came right to Ulquiorra’s side, and handed him the things. “Here,” he breathed.

                “Thank you, Nova.” The whispered reply was nearly enough to make the Mod Soul come unglued completely. Ulquiorra could see the crinkle at the corner of his eyes that gave away his pleased smile, and he nodded, and turned to leave, closing the door behind him.

                Ulquiorra wondered if perhaps he’d pushed a bit too far this time, but Nova had seemed agreeably responsive, so he brushed it aside. But when he stepped out of the bathroom, the hallway was empty, and his stomach fell. I did push him too far, Ulquiorra thought somewhat regretfully. He turned and went to the sitting room, curling up on the couch, resolving to give Nova the space he so obviously needed at the moment, but also to set things straight with him first thing in the morning.

                About half an hour later, Nova was wondering what had happened to Ulquiorra. Surely he hasn’t been in the shower all this time? he wondered. He had come to bed to wait for him, but he had never come. Nova got up and checked the bathroom, but it was empty and dark. He began to quietly search the Shoten, and came at last to the doorway of the sitting room, seeing Ulquiorra curled up, fast asleep on the couch. Why did he not come to bed? Nova wondered. Is he upset with me over something?

WWWWWWWWWW

                Some time later that night, Ulquiorra woke, feeling chilled, and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, snuggling back down into the couch. Wait… Blanket? He sat up in shock, realizing that, at some point in the night, someone had brought him a blanket, and had covered him up.

                It was only a moment more before he spotted the responsible party, curled up on the floor next to the couch, barely covered himself in the other half of the blanket. Ulquiorra sat up, shaking his head in disbelief of the Mod Soul’s loyalty. He stroked the soft, red hair, and Nova leaned sleepily into his hand, making pleased sighs.

                Ulquiorra crouched over him, taking him by the elbow. “Nova,” he called softly, barely rousing the drowsy man. “Come to bed.”

                Nova looked around in confusion, eyes fixing finally on Ulquiorra, and he gave a sloppy, half-drunk-looking smile and a nod. Ulquiorra took Nova’s arm over his shoulder, and guided him back to his own room, lowering him gently to the bed and then climbing in beside him, pulling the blanket over the both of them. Nova rolled onto his side, away from Ulquiorra, back out again that quickly. Ulquiorra sighed in sleepy satisfaction and nestled up to Nova, spooning against him, arm around his chest, pulling the Mod Soul tight against him. He buried his face in the soft red hair, inhaling the scent deeply. Nova sighed blissfully, and leaned back into the comforting embrace as they both drifted back to sleep.

WWWWWWWWWW

A/N: I got stuck really badly on this chapter about halfway through, and I’d like to thank my good friend Higekimaru for his most excellent counsel, and for listening to my whining. You’re a gem, dear, and I’m so glad to call you my friend. (He’s also a really great author, you should check out his work and leave him a nice review, right after you’re done with mine! ;-)
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The Silence Between