GrimmUlqui High School AU

The crowd erupted into applause as the last touchdown was made, letting the blue panthers win the game. The team howled at their latest victory, all the members chest bumping and patting each other in the back. The opposing team congratulated them, albeit reluctantly, and the blue panthers were off the field and into their lockers.

"Congratulations Panthers, we fucking WON!" Howled Grimmjow, the quarterback. His fists in the air as the team followed suit, celebrating their achievement.

Finally ready to walk out, the blue haired man tossed his equipment quickly into his bag and walked out, ready to go home and get ready for their victory party.

Outside on the sidewalk, a dark form sitting beneath a shedding tree, a notebook open on his lap. Ulquiorra brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes, rolling them at the noise the football players were making. He wouldn't have been at the game at all if he hadn't been assigned the article about it for the school newspaper, and he wasn't going to be any happier writing about it than he had been watching it.

He raised his head, watching the uniformed idiots spill from the building and board their cars. The quarterback, their star, had even dyed his hair their team color not long after he'd come into his freshman year and hadn't changed it since. Ulquiorra made a soft snort and turned his attention back to the pen and paper.

As the quarterback walked to his blue mustang, classic '64 of course, he heard a familiar snort. He turned his head, and sure enough, sitting under a tree, was his most hated journalist. He was writing something, and no matter how much Grimmjow told himself that it was none of his business, his curiosity was piked.

"Hey, what the fuck you doin' here, shithead?"

"You can sleep fitfully tonight knowing that I am not choosing to be here," Ulquiorra said dully, staring up at Grimmjow. "But for some reason the school would like to know about your useless antics, and so I have no choice but to write an article on the subject."

Grimmjow stared at the pale kid, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He knew the asshole used huge words all the time, but hated it. It was as if he thought he was all high and mighty or something.

"Football is not usless, you prick!" He growled, insulted by the mans word. "How the fuck can you write about something if you know nothing about it?"

"Research. Perhaps if you did more of it you wouldn't be failing any of your classes." Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. "Or are those useless, too? You won't think they're so useless when you fail too many and are removed from the team."

"Tch." Was all he said, his face scrunching up in a sneer as he glared at the man sitting below him. He quickly grabbed Ulquiorra by the collar and lifted him, shoving the man back against the tree.

"Remember who the fuck you're talking to, asshole." He growled, his voice low.

"Hard to forget, seeing as the signature bad breath and small vocabulary is there." Ulquiorra calmly stared into Grimmjow's face, his eyes dull and almost sleepy-looking. Around them, football players and spectators were gathering to see the fight they expected was about to take place.

Grimmjow growled low in his throat and pushed the man farther into the bark of the tree. Everything about the man infuriated Grimmjow, from the way that nothing seemed to bother him, to the way he managed to insult without even trying.

"Don't fuck with me, Cifer." He said keeping his voice low, mindful of the fact that people were beginning to get curious and nosy. He knew that the second he threw a punch at the black haired man, he would get kicked off the team, something that was definitely not worth it.

"Or you'll what?" Ulquiorra prompted him.

"Come on, Grimmjow," one of the other players said. "You get yourself kicked off the team, we're gonna lose for sure this season. Leave him alone for now and get him later."

Frustration was quickly bubbling up in Grimmjow's mind and it was all he could do to keep himself from punching the lights out of Ulquiorra. He wanted to know what could get under his skin. Get a reacting from the practically catatonic man in front of him.

The blue haired man growled once more and let go of Ulquiorra's collar, and glared.

"Much better." Ulquiorra slowly dusted himself off. "Now go home with the rest of your unintelligent friends and let me lie to the school about how interesting you are in peace."

The blue haired man growled once more, clenching his hands so tightly that he could feel his nails dig into his palms. The man was just asking to get punched. He really was.

"We are interesting, yer just too stupid to see it, moron. And I ain't stupid!" he replied, his voice still a bit low.

"Try not to get too drunk," Ulquiorra said flatly, pushing past Grimmjow and starting to walk home. He left his notebook sitting at the trunk of the tree, open to the football article notes he'd taken. Behind Grimmjow, one of the other football players snatched it up.

"He wrote some weird shit about you, Grimm. You aughta read this."

Grimmjow watched as the man walked away, silently wondering why the hell he even cared what the pale man thought about him. He was the quarterback, the most popular guy in the school, while Cifer was just..... Grimmjow didn't even know what to classify him as.

He sighed and rubbed his head, knowing that if he thought any more, he would get a headache. He walked over to his buddy, grabbing the notebook and reading its contents.

His eyes slowly widened as he read what the man had written.

"What the fuck is this?!" His voice barely above a whisper. Hands tightened around the poor notebook and he growled deep in his throat. The blue haired man quickly closed the notebook and ran after the dark haired male.

Ulquiorra heard him before he saw him. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly, without turning around. Leaves blew away from his feet with the wind as he walked, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched against the cold. "Haven't you bothered me enough for the day?"

Grimmjow growled once more and grabbed Ulquiorra's shoulder, forcing him to turn around. He didn't like the way his voice sounded so.... tired. He didn't know what it was, but a ghost feeling in his chest told him that no, he should not sound like that.

"You forgot this." He said, pushing the green notebook into the much shorter man's chest.

Ulquiorra grabbed at the notebook before it could fall, looking up at Grimmjow in confusion. Why he would bother returning it to him was a mystery enough; he expected someone like him to just throw it away. He recovered quickly, however, standing straighter and turning around again.

"Didn't want to sacrifice your article, I see."

Grimmjow grabs Ulquiorra once more and takes the notebook. He skims once more through the pages until he reaches the one he had read before.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked, his voice low, his finger firmly planted on the section that he meant. That was not something people normally write. At least not guys about other guys.

"...It's called descriptive words. Writers use them to convey a point." Ulquiorra took a step back, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. "If you didn't fall asleep in English every day, you'd know that." He had to get out of there, and fast. But without letting Grimmjow know that he was alarmed. Without him knowing he was caught...

Grimmjow watched the shorter man carefully as he continued to insult him. Something was off. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what, but he was definitely onto something.

The blue haired man stepped closer to Ulquiorra, removing the space that he sought.

"Oh really?" He asked, raising a blue eyebrow.

"...Yes." Ulquiorra took another step back. "...Now, please let me continue my walk." He grabbed the notebook back from Grimmjow and started walking again.

If he could get home and lock the door... Grimmjow was never supposed to see that writing...

The blue haired man quickly grabbed Ulquiorra's arm and pushed him against a wall, putting both hands around his head, removing any possibility of the pale man escaping him.

"Fuck that. Ya dun need ta' write that shit in an article." He growled, his eyes narrowed as he watched the dark haired male.

Ulquiorra stared up at him, his eyes dark and unblinking. "Perhaps it was for personal reference," he said calmly.

"What the fuck would need my ass for?" He asked, leaning a bit closer, unconsciously.