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Getting Caught	By : GrimmUlquigrrrl Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ulquiorra Views: 1123 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Grimmjow rummaged through Ulquiorra's cabinets, looking for something that would help him with this damn hangover. " 'Thank you for that astute observation, Pantera,' " he mimicked in a too-high voice. "Gah, damn him!" It had always been like this with Schiffer, he always got insulted and put down, and for as long as he could remember Schiffer had done it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like there was some natural pecking order and Grimmjow was on the bottom of it.

This was going to suck. He was very, very stuck here with the man who, as a teenager, had made his life hell, and he wasn't getting out anytime soon. He had gone upstairs to see how high the snow was, because he couldn't see the top of it through the totally blocked out lower floor windows, and it was high enough that Grimmjow could step in and be in to his chin. And it was still snowing. No help would come for days, and in the meantime he had to try to survive Mercielago's wrath.

Actually, Schiffer had yet to say a thing about the stolen piece. In fact, he didn't seem to be giving it any extra thought at all. Not surprising; that was what Schiffer had always done, just forgetting about it and moving on. That bothered Grimmjow too, it was like nothing on earth held any importance to the other man. Grimmjow couldn't understand someone with no passion for anything.

He started as something white came up from below at his face. He looked down at the bottle of Advil where it hovered just below his nose- for a second he'd thought it was going to hit him. Ulquiorra was holding it up to him. "The last thing I need is to have you destroying things trying to find this," he said coldly. Grimmjow growled and snatched it from him.

"I don't need your damn help," he said angrily, glaring at the green-eyed demon who looked back at him calmly.

"Clearly, you do," Ulquiorra said. "Either take the pills or don't. Just don't go breaking things if you choose not to." Ulquiorra turned and walked back into the family room, and he didn't seem to have any hint of wariness at turning his back on a person who had never hesitated to attack him before. Grimmjow glared until there were holes scorched into the back of Schiffer's shirt, but he didn't try to start a fight. He wasn't going to say that Schiffer was a better fighter than him, but he had learned his lessons fighting him. You had to be on your best game, and with a hangover making his head throb he definitely wasn't.

He scowled and popped the Advil lid open, throwing who-knows-how-many back into his throat. This was a load of shit.

~!~

Grimmjow stalked back into the living room, entirely unsure of what to do. Honestly, he was actually kind of afraid to touch anything. Everything in this house was all shiny and perfect and totally expensive, and Grimmjow wasn't exactly a graceful ballerina- and with prim, proper, annoying-as-hell Schiffer watching his every move the last thing he needed was to break something.

Schiffer didn't look up from his laptop as Grimmjow came in, and that was one of the most infuriating things he did. It was like Grimmjow's existence was something so minor that Schiffer could just ignore it. Grimmjow had always hated that. He flopped heavily onto the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and propping his feet on the armrest, not taking his shoes off in spite. He expected Schiffer to order him to get his feet off the furniture or something, but Schiffer just sighed.

"Make yourself at home, Pantera," he said wryly, reaching to the side to grab his mug of tea.

"I think I will," Grimmjow said argumentatively, realizing that a fight would mean something to do, but Schiffer didn't react at all. The pale man just shook his head the way Grimmjow's father always had, that way that made it seem like he thought Grimmjow's antics were childish and foolish. Grimmjow hated that look. He lit up with a fire that burned right out his eyes as he glared at Schiffer.

"I won," he blurted out. "I put your dogs to sleep, I hacked your security system, I duped your pinpad, I noticed your trap wire. Iwon. Admit it, Mercielago, I won." He sat up, facing Schiffer and leaning forward intensely. He had to hear Schiffer say it, say that Grimmjow had finally bested him, after all those years of trying so wildly to. Schiffer just sighed again, emerald eyes slipping closed.

"Alright, Pantera, you won," he said, shrugging it off with a note of almost tolerance in his voice. Grimmjow seethed. That wasn't what he'd needed- he'd needed anger, he'd needed hateful recognition, he'd needed denial, but all he got was a lie said to keep him quiet. He growled.

"Dammit, man!" he yelled, standing up, and for the first time Ulquiorra looked up at him emotionlessly. "Why the hell did you let me do it? Why did you let me get away?" Schiffer just looked up at him, not threatened by his enraged aura.

"Because I disliked that carving," he said matter-of-factly. Grimmjow boiled, his hand clenching into fists as he stepped closer.

"What, so I'm your garbage man?" he cried. That made him so mad, so mad, and he felt the familiar but long-forgotten urge to haul off and break Schiffer's jaw. Every time he had ever tried, Schiffer had avoided him easily and pinned him against the wall. But that was years ago, wasn't it? Grimmjow had grown up. He was stronger than he used to be.

"Don't even think about it, Pantera," Schiffer said, seeing Grimmjow's intent and squashing it. He put his tea back on the side table, probably not wanting it to spill on his computer if a brawl started. "I have grown stronger as well." Grimmjow got even madder.

"Dammit, why do you always look down on me?" he asked. "Do you really think you're that much better than me?"

"Of course not," Ulquiorra said. "I think that you are worse."

"Fuck it!" Grimmjow yelled, though the term didn't make any sense in context. His head was pulsing, the Advil unable to combat the hangover when the weight of his anger was added to it. "You're such an ass! Do you say that shit just to piss me off?"

"Yes," Schiffer said, and for a moment Grimmjow was shocked. Wait, what? All those years, Schiffer had been egging him on? All those fights, Grimmjow had been playing right into his hand? "It fascinates me to see how passionate you get when you're prodded. Now sit down." Grimmjow got mad again, but he wasn't burning with it anymore. He glared a little.

"Hell no," he said, but he couldn't make himself stay in that room with Schiffer's disconcertingly empty eyes drilling into him. He stomped off, through the kitchen and into the room on the other side. He ducked behind the wall so Schiffer couldn't see him, ignoring the elaborately carved wooden table that he assumed Schiffer ate on.

He leaned against the wall. He couldn't believe it. All that time he had spent obsessing over hating the other man, he had really been being watched as entertainment. He got the sickening image stuck in his mind of him pinned to a board inside a picture frame like a dead butterfly, struggling under the view of the microscope. He shuddered. What had he been doing ever since freshman year? Was Schiffer the only one who looked at him like that, or was he a walking freak show? Did Starrk see him that way? What about Hiyori? Or that weird Urahara guy? Disgust welled up in him.

He was he going to survive this?
- 4
- 5
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Getting Caught