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Grimmjow settled in at the cafe bar, waiting for Ulquiorra to finish his call to the supplier. Kiyone puttered around the smoothie machine while Momo wiped the counter.
“You want one, Grimm?” Kiyone motioned to the machine.
Grimmjow nodded. “Sure. Strawberry.” He’d had a long day. Some vitamins would do him good.
Kiyone added strawberries to a cup and placed it under the blender. She turned around to rest her elbows on the bar and her chin on her hands. “You look down. What’s up? Paradise not so perfect upstairs?”
Like she was one to talk. “I’m not the one who’s engaged to my worst enemy.” Grimmjow snorted. He still didn’t get how they became a thing. Or how they’d managed to keep their engagement a secret. Up until Isane spilled the beans when ordering bachelorette cupcakes.
Kiyone grinned and leaned on the bar. “Don’t you know? Hate sex is the best kinda sex.”
Grimmjow did know. With stark intimacy. He grinned. “You’re tweaked.”
Kiyone shrugged. “Maybe. Isn’t your anniversary coming up with the boss?” She turned back around to check the machine. It continued to rumble on.
Momo perked and dropped onto the stool beside Grimmjow, bracing the broom against the counter. “It’s next week, isn’t it?”
Grimmjow nodded. “Mhm. It’ll be two years.”
“Anything planned?” Kiyone sat the smoothie in front of Grimmjow and offered him one of the edible straws.
Momo sighed and rested her face in her hands. “I can’t believe it’s been two years already.”
Neither could Grimmjow. Their first anniversary felt like a decade ago now.
“I don’t really have anything planned. Can’t figure out what he’d want.” Ulquiorra never made anything easy. Digging information out of him was like pulling teeth. Or one of those American detective shows where they had twists and turns until a plot device literally dropped into their laps.
Izuru spoke up, “The second anniversary is considered the cotton anniversary.”
“So it’s like the western traditions?” Grimmjow sipped his smoothie. He made a thumbs up at Kiyone who looked smug.
Izuru placed his broom against one of the tables. “Aside from the fourth and tenth years, it’s almost identical, yeah. You could buy new sheets, or robes. Maybe dinner linens?”
They didn’t serve too many dinners in the apartment. And Ulquiorra liked his current sheets. Robes might be nice to match.
Hanataro popped up from beneath the bar with the leftover desserts. “You should take him somewhere romantic.”
Kiyone sniffed and curled her lip. “The boss isn’t a romantic, ‘taro. We’ve all seen what he makes for Valentine’s and White Day.”
That was for his staff; it was something Ulquiorra considered necessary but otherwise not useful. He did a standard fare and nothing grander. Grimmjow was given better gifts. Not that he could point that out. The idea of a war sounded… bad. Shūhei would dig a trench. There would be friendly fire. Hanataro would not survive.
“I’m sure Grimmjow knows him better than we do.” Momo nudged Grimmjow’s side with a playful elbow.
Grimmjow smiled and leaned into Momo’s warmth. “Kiyone’s not wrong. Ulquiorra’s idea of romance is how he approaches everything: cold pragmatism.” Except when he wanted fucked. Then he divided and conquered. Or went for cheap tactics like walking in front of the TV naked while Grimmjow was in the middle of a match with Di and Edrad.
Momo sighed. “But he can be so sweet.”
To her, of course. Ulquiorra was mean otherwise. And vindictive. “What’s your suggestions then?” He knew the staff was dying to give them. And with Ulquiorra preoccupied, it seemed like the best chance. Maybe Grimmjow’s only chance.
They all went quiet while they thought. Most of them had known Ulquiorra longer than Grimmjow. They worked with him and saw a whole different side to Ulquiorra Grimmjow had only glanced. Which felt odd to consider, given everything he and Ulquiorra had gone through. Evil mafia bosses rotting in hell, as the case was.
Kiyone fingered her straw. “I’ve got it! A picnic. Simple and cheap. And he loves to eat. Even heard him say to Shūhei he likes your cooking.” Kiyone leaned back from the counter and nodded once, final.
It wasn’t a bad suggestion. Ulquiorra did like Grimmjow’s cooking, and a picnic would be cheaper than eating out. “It’s basic and has a low chance of him fucking off.” Yeah, it could work. Grimmjow liked the idea.
Izuru added, “You should take him to one of the parks. That way you can look at nature rather than the city.”
Did Ulquiorra like nature? He seemed to like their walks by the canal when they got ramen. So maybe?
The office door opened, and Grimmjow spied Ulquiorra through the order window. The staff scattered back to their tasks. Ulquiorra exited the kitchen and beelined for the coffee machine, prepping the decaf blend.
Grimmjow smiled. A plan formed.
~*~
A week later, Grimmjow led Ulquiorra off the park path and up a small hill that overlooked the waterway. It was the closest he could find to “nature” and it wasn’t so bad, he supposed. It was away from the noise of the footpaths and the city. That counted for something, right?
Ulquiorra asked, “Why are we having a picnic?”
Unromantic dick. Grimmjow sighed and hiked the basket higher. “Because it’s our anniversary. Thought you might like some romance?”
Ulquiorra snorted. “Your idea of romance is fingering me before sex.”
Grimmjow felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. Ulquiorra was in his thirties, how was he this dense? “Can you at least pretend we’re in love, or somethin’?”
Ulquiorra canted his head and considered Grimmjow with that reptilian look of his. “Are you having doubts about me?”
No, but Ulquiorra made shit harder than it needed to be. Grimmjow turned around and continued across the grass, muttering, “You make it hard sometimes.”
They walked in silence to the top of the hill. Grimmjow sat the basket down and unfolded the blanket he’d got from Izuru. It was a blue and white gingham patter with a few patches here and there. Just like Izuru. He loved restoring old, worn things to some kind of new. Ulquiorra took the other edge and helped spread the blanket across the grass. He picked up a rock to pin one corner and used his shoes for the other side. He settled down with his legs folded.
Ulquiorra didn’t look at Grimmjow, so maybe he didn’t hear the complaint. Probably for the best. They didn’t need to fight today. Could do it tomorrow.
Grimmjow opened the basket lid, also one of Izuru’s, and removed the plates to sit on the blanket. He’d spent the morning making pan roasted chicken and vegetables. And he’d spent the night before baking a chocolate pie with Shūhei in the cafe kitchen. At least one thing could be a surprise.
Grimmjow busied himself unloading the food next and spared Ulquiorra a few glances. Ulquiorra’s face remained unmoved, but Grimmjow could see the way Ulquiorra’s lashes fluttered with each container of food. It made Grimmjow smile. To know the effort wasn’t for a loss. That Ulquiorra did care and wanted to be here.
Their relationship had been… ugly at the start. Grimmjow had been ugly.
It was a miracle Ulquiorra ever agreed to that first date. And it was an even bigger miracle the two of them were still alive. Grimmjow frowned. Today was a happy day.
Grimmjow picked up Ulquiorra’s plate and served him first. Shūhei had helped make a marinade for the chicken. Even showed Grimmjow how to spatchcock. That had been an ordeal, but Grimmjow kinda liked it. Something about tearing out something’s spine felt… good.
Maybe he needed more exercise.
Ulquiorra took the plate. Their fingers brushed, and Grimmjow’s heart did flips. After all the failures, Grimmjow didn’t deserve to have someone so… perfect. And for all Ulquiorra’s faults, he was perfect. He was everything Grimmjow wanted. Everything he didn’t deserve. Everything that –
Ulquiorra muttered, “Stop that. I’m trying to eat.”
Grimmjow looked up. “What?”
“Spiraling.” Ulquiorra scooted closer and prodded at his food with his fork. “Do you know why I call you my panther?” He shoved a bite of chicken in his mouth and made a pleased noise while he chewed.
“Because I’m ferocious?” Grimmjow never put much thought into the pet name. Princess had started out as an insult, after all. He figured pantero was no different.
Ulquiorra’s eyes closed, and his lips twitched toward a smile. “You are ferocious, yes. But I call you my panther because you are mine, Grimmjow. My love, my heart. Mi pantero.”
Grimmjow’s lashes dipped, and his chest felt warm. The worries didn’t disappear, he doubted they ever fully would, but they faded into the background. Grimmjow leaned down to kiss the top of Ulquiorra’s head. Dappled light fell through the branches of the trees, casting shadows over Ulquiorra’s face. What the sun touched glowed. It made Ulquiorra look even more beautiful than Grimmjow could imagine.
Grimmjow murmured, “I’m happy to be yours, Ulquiorra.” And it was the truth. He’d never wanted to belong to anyone. Not like this. Not with his whole heart and soul. Even Ichigo hadn’t managed to claim both.
Grimmjow speared a piece of broccoli and brought it to his lips. He looked out over the water and the city with Ulquiorra’s body pressed close to his. The warmth bled into Grimmjow, and he felt a peace settle over him. Nothing mattered. Not in that moment. Not while they were together. Not while they made each other whole.
Grimmjow ate another bite and listened to Ulquiorra’s pleased little hums. He wished this moment could last forever.