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Simply put, Grimmjow’s day had been long and stressful. He’s thoroughly grumpy and tired once he arrives home, and all he wants is the love and attention of his husband. Kensei, as usual between the hours of 9am and 5pm, was busy with paperwork, settled comfortably on the couch with a stack on his lap. (A stack that should be replaced by a certain someone’s behind, but anyway.) Whatever he’s reading must be important enough to keep him from looking up as his partner walks in with two small bundles of groceries, half of which being for the cats currently brushing fondly against the Espada’s legs.
“Hi,” Grimmjow offers from the kitchen after leaning down to give his furry family some love, gaze cast on the back of Kensei’s head for the off chance he shifts to give a proper greeting. Hey is what he receives in response, prompting a soft sigh from the feline. He could be like this sometimes, with work roping him in until it’d been finished. He understood— really, he knew it mattered and that Kensei wanted to finish it as soon as possible— but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be disappointed that he, his husband , had to wait. Fine . He’s been working on his patience anyway.
So Grimmjow puts the groceries away, slowly, like it’ll kill him to go any faster. Nothing gets thrown around or slammed, much as he’d certainly enjoy it. He even tackles the tedious task of rearranging some of the cupboards and shelves, but the prolonged lack of acknowledgement had eventually plastered a heavy frown on his features. All things considered, that much isn’t unlike him. So much for patience.
“Let’s go get takeout.” he tries again, but the telltale sign of an upset Grimmjow, his detested ears and tail, have already made their appearance. It’s always the fastest giveaway to letting Kensei know he’s upset for one reason or another, but they’re terribly hard to control when his mood swings. Great.
“Yeah, give me a little while.”
Give him a little while. Give him a little fucking while.
The irritated scowl on Grimmjow’s face only deepened as Kensei all but rejected the offer, oblivious to the frustration of his lover from behind him. He hadn’t even looked up at him. With an unseen flick of his tail, the hybrid takes the stairs by two and silently slinks away into his own personal room. The door doesn’t slam behind him like one might expect, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sulking— he’s merely not keen on replacing it anytime soon. By the time he’d settled into the center of his bed (which happened to be round, the superior shape) and pulled the curtain of his canopy closed, he heard the faint click of Kensei’s bedroom door as it was pushed open and another click as it was soon shut again. Grimmjow could almost always be found there given they shared a bed every night, so it was only a given that his lover would check there first. Apparently storming off is the only way to get a man’s attention nowadays. Fuckin’ hell.
“Honey,” the captain murmurs quietly once he’d finally located his lover uncharacteristically in his own room, and he peels back the canopy just enough to sit on the rounded edge of the mattress. From beneath the blanket, only the mess of Grimmjow’s lilac hair stuck out, but a very unhappy gaze is soon revealed after a few coaxing scratches to his scalp— of course he’d know exactly what was needed. “Gonna tell me what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Grimmjow grumbles his response, and he chooses not to elaborate on what’s very clearly a lie. It pulls a soft sigh from his mate, and the older man dutifully lifts away the blanket— earning him a miffed grumble— just long enough to crawl beneath it and pull Grimmjow close to his chest. He’s well aware by now that a mood like this is never just anger . There’s always more to it, and he’ll have to soothe it out a little at a time. Elaborating has always been optional between the two of them.
“That so?”
“Mhm.” Those pent up nerves were slowly ebbing away with every pass of Kensei’s hand through his hair, and he buries his nose further into the other’s neck as though he were never angry to begin with. It was difficult to be when he’d finally gotten the one thing he craved. In a way, his husband’s touch was akin to medicine.
The low rumble of Grimmjow’s purring came to be one of the last sounds between them before he drifted into a light slumber, lulled there by his lover’s heartbeat and the sweet sensation lingering at his crown.
When he awoke, it was to an apparently very hungry mate, whose stomach seemed to roar in protest at the lack of food. Far too comfortable to move, he’d settled for brushing the tip of his tail teasingly against Kensei’s head as a silent, I heard that.
“D’you still wanna get takeout?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Five.” But there’s a harsh flick from Grimmjow’s tail, and Kensei is forced to settle for ten.