October 2009


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Monday, May 18th, 2009 01:35 pm
Title: Let the Music Play
Summary: 'No one could ever say that Hueco Mundo wasn’t an exciting place and that’s why you loved it.' Las Noches is the hottest club since Soul Society and we aren't just talking about the music and dancing.
Fandom: Bleach
Word Count: 3058
Ratings/Warnings: M for mild adult situations
Pairing: You/Grimmjow

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach or you; this is just a figment of my imagination put to paper. Don’t sue, please!! ‘Let the Music Play’ is also not mine, though I did steal a few lines here and there.


The skin on the back of your neck prickled, the fine, short hairs standing straight-up as you suppressed a shiver. Not wanting to let on to the fact that you had noticed the eyes that were riveted on you, you continued to make your way through the packed club which filled your vision with a sea of white, flashes of black, and masses of moving people. As you strove to ignore the heated stare, you listened to the throbbing music, the base beating through your very bones, and watched those who had taken the stage tonight, mostly small-fry, but you could see a few of the Espada competing in a small dance off to one side. You smiled. No one could ever say that Hueco Mundo wasn’t an exciting place and that’s why you loved it.

Straightening your white capris, making sure the black laces that held the front and back of each leg together all the way up the sides weren’t coming undone, you let yourself be pulled into a group of writhing people in black trimmed white. You lost yourself to the music, forgetting about watcher from before and simply becoming one with the mixed music that pounded through the large, industrial, two-story building.

Hueco Mundo wasn’t a new club by anyone’s standards, some even swearing it had been there since the beginning of time, or at least since is rival club, Soul Society, had been open, which many others swore was the same thing. No, it had been around for far longer than most clubs around the city, but it hadn’t been that popular, having only a few really great dancers at a time, until it had received new ownership. Within the last six months, a trio of top dancers from the elite group of Soul Society had made their way over, looking to use Las Noches as a base for their own purposes. Not many were exactly sure of what these ‘purposes’ were, but the change in management had made a huge difference in its popularity.

During the first month after the change, Aizen, the new manager, had taken to holding competitions between dancers who thought themselves above average, ranking them as he did so. You, yourself had been one of the first to make your way up onto the large, elevated stage all those months ago to test your abilities against the rest. Being good, but not brilliant, you found yourself below those who the manager had found to have the most potential, those he trained and ranked individually, but your courage had awarded you with a number, twenty-three. You wore it with pride every night you made your way down to the club, the number boldly printed on the back of your white, black lased shirt, slightly to the left of the laces that split the fabric right down the middle.

Now, with the knowledge of so many great dancers, many of which had proven themselves against not only the ‘Shinigami’ from Soul Society, but even against a ‘Ryoka’ or two, a mixed group of four dancers that would do anything to help the others in their tight knit group which had gained quite a following in the past year, Hueco Mundo had become a hot spot. The regulars and those who competed in the beginning were so proud of their standings that they usually bore ‘hollows’ on their body, a pair of black circles that went on either side of a leg, arm, or torso, along with their number if they had one. The Tattoo and Henna Parlor next door got a lot of business because of this.

You wore your own as a badge of honor; it peaked through the laces on your right leg, its matching circle hidden on your inner thigh. No one, save the artist who put it there and yourself, had touched that side of your ‘hollow’ since it was first put there, no man ever catching your overly-critical eye, even in a club that was this packed.

But, the music, mixed live by your favorite DJ up in Hōgyoku, a round, black room that was positioned up a set of stairs which looked down at the dance floor, also kept you from noticing the return of that gaze. It was only as the beat changed that you noticed it, and that was only seconds before you felt a callused pair of hands go around your waist.

The hands moved, one heading up your stomach as the man behind you continued dancing even as you attempted to stop, and the other working its way down and around your right leg. Gasping, you turned angrily to see who would be so bold as to be that forward without you even seeing their face and, to your credit, only pausing slightly as you recognized the smirking man. The sky-blue-haired twenty-something year-old was well known, having been the only Espada to lose his number only to get it back after his broken arm had been healed, the sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

Only slightly impressed by his identity, and not at all by his previous actions, you placed your hands firmly on his barely covered chest, intent on pushing the man away and giving him a piece of your fist, as words probably wouldn’t make it across the loud room, but his hands, which had simply slid around your body as you turned, moved skillfully up your back before you could speak. You were robbed of the ability to form coherent words as those sinful fingers moved up your back and he pressed his body to yours, your back arching as his hands found their way back to the small of it, tracing unknown designs softly with their nails as they did. Feeling him chuckle smugly against your hands, you flushed slightly and realized that, even though he couldn’t hear you, he probably felt the involuntary groan that was pulled from you with the hands that caused it, if not through your own which were the only things separating your chest from his other than some cloth.

Pulling you up against him once more, he gave you a predatory grin and began dancing once more, having stopped as he toyed with your emotions, his expression one of satisfactory one-upmanship. Your eyes glinted and you took up the challenge even though you knew how large the gap between your skill level and his were, unable to go down without a fight. Those around you seemed to sense the tension in the air and gave the two of you some room, some watching you both out of the corner of their eyes, and each of you started to dance.

You started out barely touching showing off large and outlandish moves and jumps, but soon got closer and closer, each forcing the other to perform more and more extreme moves, your bodies displaying through the dances as both Grimmjow and yourself got into the competition. The longer the mix and battle went on, the more you realized how much fun it was, how exciting to be with someone who could actually keep up, challenge you. It helped that the competition was so easy on the eyes. Soon, it wasn’t just a competition to see who could do more things better, but a way to show off, to tease your partner. You moved sensuously to the groove, grinding your hips into the catlike man behind you, but playfully moved your neck away as he leaned down towards it, feeling the barest flick of a tongue before pulling away slightly from the other’s grasp.

An angry snarl vibrated through his chest and your hand that was now holding him back, but the heated look in his eyes and the tiny upturn at the side of his snarling lips showed that he was enjoying this as much as you were. You just smirked back, happy to have a good and entertaining partner to dance with for once. ‘If he’s good, maybe I’ll let him...maybe...’

Just then, in your peripheral vision, you saw a head of black dreadlocks and visored eyes heading towards Hōgyoku, and pouted slightly, disappointed that the electronic DJ would be starting up soon as he never seemed to play the songs you liked to dance to. Grimmjow, catching your look, followed your gaze to the dark-skinned man and growled, this time his face was full of nothing but hatred for the man who broke his arm. You attempted to bring him into the dance once more, but failed as the new genera of music began and the mood was broken. Stopping, you gave him a strange look, wondering what might have put him so out of sorts, before giving a mental shrug and grabbing his left arm, maybe dancing with a larger group might get him back into the swing of things.

He shrugged you off easily and didn’t look back at your shocked, slightly hurt face as he pushed his way angrily through the crowds. You stared after him for only a moment before turning resolutely towards the bar, biting your lip to hide the fact that you were still slightly hurt. You’d never given your trust or respect that easily before, and it scared you, especially the ease with which he threw it away. It also confused you to see him walk away so easily after at least two extra days of staring and just one dance, but you wouldn’t let it ruin your night, you resolved. Making it to the bar, you ordered a non-alcoholic drink from the bull-skull masked bartender, not wanting to be too tipsy by the end of this, and waited for a beat you could dance to or a song that caught your interest.

It took only ten minutes or so, enough for you to be fully rested and to have tightened your laces once more, before another good song cropped up and you made your way out to the dance floor. Not really in the mood to dance with another guy, or even any of the girls, they were a little over competitive with you, what with your good looks and low number, you simply chose a spot with a good view and began dancing again, only allowing those near you to dance with you as long as they didn’t touch too much. While you danced, you were sure you must have looked a little bipolar, tensing and relaxing at random intervals. Even though your partner had gone, you still felt as if he were right there, dancing next to you, and you were almost expecting his touch to come at any moment. It made you wonder if the bartender had slipped anything funny into your glass, but you brushed that thought off, you had watched him pour four other similar drinks at the same time or just after during the time you spent there, nothing you hadn’t seen went into your drink.

It was a little freaky, you decided, pushing your way off the floor once more after the fifteen or twenty minute mix. For the next two, which got on your nerves for some reason, you lazed about in a booth on the second floor, taking up one whole side as you lounged and looked over the large club, ignoring the couple making out beside you. After another twenty minutes of doing whatever came to mind and trying to forget about your earlier disappointment and the strange happenings there after, another good beat cropped up and you made your way out to the floor. During this mix, however, you kept seeing a flash of sky-blue hair or a popped black collar beyond the raving dancers around you, and every time you caught sight of it he seemed closer. You brushed it off as your imagination, but moved away from his general direction, just to be safe.

‘Okay, now I know it,’ you thought as you measured the distance between the two of you swiftly and smirked. He was dancing his way back to you, though you weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, he seemed to be the type to just go up and take what he wants, like the first time you danced, rather than sneaking up on it. ‘Then again,’ a second thought occurred to you as you spotted a white head of hair making its way through the crowd, ‘the more I think on it, the more he appears to be the kind to sneak up behind and attack when you least expect it, going for the neck like a jaguar.’

As you smirked at this slight pun on the other’s last name, you started to make your way through the crowds, following that tall, white-haired man up into Hōgyoku. Reaching the door at the top of the stairs before you did, Gin turned around, having noticed you long before, and with his trademark smile, held open the door for you and you entered with a smile of your own. You took a seat near his booth and ignored the slightly irritated glance that Tōsen threw in your direction as the ex-shinigami took his seat and prepared for the next set.

“Hello, Cheetah-chan. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You glanced out the one-sided mirror towards the dance floor below and unconsciously picked out the blue-haired predator once more. “Nothing really,” you said airily, “I just wanted to check up on my favorite DJ, that’s all.”

Having quickly followed your negligent gaze by this time, Gin just smirked happily back at you, “That’s all?”

A sharp look was thrown in his direction as your eyes snapped from the searching figure below, “Is there supposed to be more?”

“Possibly.” That was all you were going to get out of him now, you knew. He was in a playful mood now that only a certain shinigami, Rangiku, could contend with and, even then, only some of the time. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t stop smiling, your hands tracing intricate shapes and letters without your knowledge on your thigh as your gaze drifted down to the crowd once more. For the next few minutes you simply watched Grimmjow dance his way through the crowds, zigzagging and never staying with one girl or group for more than a minute before moving on, seemingly looking for something, moving on when he couldn’t find it. A half smile lingered on your face as Gin made his final preparations for his old school turntables. Maybe he was looking for you.

“Go to him.”

That broke you out of your light daze and you looked up at your musically inclined friend. “What?”

He never looked up from his work as he repeated, “Go to him. I’ll do my part, Cheetah-chan. Be happy, I usually don’t do requests, so have fun with this favorites mix.” Fox grin only getting wider as you pondered it; he then watched as you almost vanished from his eyes, your “Thank you” barely reaching his ears before the door was shut. Still smiling, he went to put on his headphones.

“You spoil her.” He looked up at the overly serious Tōsen. “She isn’t even an Espada.”

“‘Better to be loved than hated.’” Gin shrugged, putting on his earpieces, ignoring whatever the other man had to say about that.

“‘Better to be feared than loved.’” The other countered as he looked down on the army that would one day take them to victory.

Down on the dance floor once again, you quickly made your way through the crowds to near where you last saw Numero ‘sexy’, as you had now labeled him in your head, but would never tell him as it would most definitely go to his head, and began stalking your prey much as he had you earlier that evening. Smiling as one of your favorite songs started up, you easily hid yourself as your victims deep blue eyes darted in your direction. You let the music play on, as you circled him easily and looked for a weak spot that you could slip into, he wouldn’t get away from you now. Before the chorus of that first song was over, you had found that opening and, like any good hunter, you went for the neck, a very vulnerable spot on anyone’s body.

It was his turn to turn around angrily before stopping short this time as you gave him a naughty smirk and a matching one slowly spread across his own face. Two beats later both of you threw yourselves into the dance, hands wandering as your bodies pressed intimately to the other, both aching for more of that glorious feeling of friction and the other’s touch on your bare skin. His eyes seemed to burn blue with the hottest of flames as he caught your own. You licked your lips with anticipation and started pushing him out of the dense crowd, not being able to take any more of this sweet torture. You needed more and you had decided that, for him, there was no escape. On his part, it didn’t look like any other choice was even considered as, when he reached the edge of the crowd, he grabbed you towards him, spun around and pinned you to the closest wall.

As one of his hands brushed your side, the other grasped your neck, both tugging you towards him. As you stood, trapped between his body and the wall, your own hands raked up his bare back under his tattered white and black jacket and, letting the feelings that he invoked overtake you, you met him for a lust-filled, searing kiss that wiped the music and crowds away from your mind. One last thought flitted through your mind, unacknowledged as you pulled one hand from his jacket to reach for his neck to pull him down to you for better access, ‘Oh, yes. He can be the one to touch me if he keeps this up.’ It was lost as he pressed you against the wall and you practically melted into his embrace.


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