What the fuck am I doing here, Nnoitra muttered in his mind as he leaned up against a wall of the club, long dark hair sliding over his thin shoulders.
The lights changed from bright yellows, to hues of blue, and off to pinks to the beat of the blasting music. Bodies pressed together on the dance floor; women were grinding against their partners, hips swaying to the song. It was a fucking stupid song blasting through the speakers and grating on his nerves. He had no idea what the singer was saying and the thumbing of the techno beat made him feel close to homicidal rage towards the DJ.
A few girls had come up to him attempting to dance with him, but Nnoitra just told them to get lost. One girl called him an asshole as she tripped over her heels, falling painfully on her knees when he pushed her off him. He responded by saying she was fucking ugly and being a slut didn't help. It wasn't his fault she was overweight and spilling out of that skimpy black dress she was wearing that did nothing to "slim" her figure. He didn't give a fuck about anybody, sometimes not even himself. He definitely didn't have time for some unattractive female's greasy body rubbing all over him.
Despite that, Nnoitra member was hardening slightly. After all, there were gorgeous women there too. He cursed himself silently as he went over to the VIP section where Ulquiorra was sitting sipping on coke and rum. His emerald orbs watched him without any movement of his head when the tall man walked by, something that always creeped him out. Next to him sat Szayel with his legs crossed and a slender finger twirling his coral locks. He was eyeing a man with hair as red as a fire hydrant. His gaze was slanted, honey orbs fixated on the other man while he danced.
"Fuckin' fag," Nnoitra said grinning widely.
Szayel's eyes remained on the man as he flipped his pink hair out of his face. "You're just mad because I don't want you."
Nnoitra's smile never faded. "Even if I was a glitter ass, you wouldn't be my type."
Anyone could tell that Szayel was homosexual, his pink hair and feminine way of gesturing were another big hint. He was very smart, a genius at that and Nnoitra was aware of his intellect. Szayel often was able to embarrass Nnoitra whenever they got into it with wittier comments, but that didn't stop him from still attempting to get under the pink-haired man's skin. Hadn't worked yet, but Nnoitra wasn't a quitter.
Nnoitra saw Stark in the far corner leaning back lazily while he made out with some woman. Her curly brown hair was up in a ponytail, revealing a butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck. She straddled him and the brunette male had one hand on her hip while his other arm was folded behind the chair.
Nnoitra was always annoyed by that. Did he have to fucking make out with every girl he saw? Maybe it was fun or something. He didn't know since he never let a female get close to him. He didn't have the patience to mess around with women. They were too whiny and way too needy. He walked over to the bar and on his way back saw Grimmjow on the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned completely, showing off glistening rock hard abs. Females groped him as he grinded against a girl's backside. She was bent over exposing her breasts. One hand was hooked on her hip, the other running through his bright blue hair. A wide grin was on his face, clearly enjoying the attention he was getting.
"They might as well be fucking," Nnoitra said as he headed towards the bar.
Harribel was already there. He sat next to her and ordered a Whiskey Sour. He was definitely in the mood for a lot of alcohol. Harribel leaned against his bony shoulder, blonde spiky tresses falling into her face. It was clear she had already had too much.
"You're a damn drunk," he said as he used a finger to push her to a sitting position.
She hiccupped, light eyes hazy with intoxication. "I don't drink."
