Ichigo stumbles slightly as he lands after striking the killing blow. Noticing it, Renji frowns in concern. The hollow hadn't been particularly strong and the fight ended fairly quickly, there was no reason that Renji could discern for Ichigo to be as fatigued as he seems. Walking over to his orange-haired lover, Renji allows his gaze to sweep over the lithe body, searching for an injury he may have missed the younger shinigami receiving during the fight. Seeing none, his frown deepens. He was startled when Ichigo started to sway and he would've fallen if Renji hadn't grabbed him and pulled his smaller body firmly against his own.
"Gomen, Ren," he says, leaning heavily against the red-headed shinigami, "I don't feel…" Ichigo broke off the what he was about to say to quickly pull away from Renji, falling to his knees and retching up what little food there was in his stomach. Renji knelt next to him, supporting him and whispering soothing words quietly in his ear, until Ichigo climbs shakily to his feet. Renji takes in the pale face and too bright eyes, the sweat breaking out the forehead and feels his gut twist in worry.
"Ichii," he asks, unable to keep the concern from his voice, "Did you get hit by that hollow or something?" Ichigo mumbles something Renji can't make out, leaning even more into the older man. Unable to tell what is wrong with the shinigami representative, he makes a quick decision and sweeps the smaller man up into his arms. Ichigo had grown some since Renji had first met him, but he still had at least five inches on him and about 40 pounds. Even with the large zanpaktou the teen was holding in his arms, he was an easy burden for Renji to carry. Renji slips into shunpo, heading to Urahara's; he could probably tell what was wrong with Ichigo.
Yelling for Urahara, Renji stops just inside the shop, blinking to adjust his eyes to the dimness after being in the bright light of outside. Whatever smart remark the former 12th Division captain was about to say dies on his lips when he looks at the two shinigami in front of him.
"What happened?" the blonde man asks, with uncharacteristic seriousness. "The hollow didn't seem that strong from what I could sense."
"It wasn't," Renji replies, as he follows the other man to the room used to treat injuries. "He finished him off quickly, and then almost passed out before throwing up his lunch."
Renji gently places the teen down and moved out of the way as the other man knelt down next to Ichigo. He runs a quick, assessing gaze over the limp body. Placing his hand on the sweaty forehead, while the other hand felt for his pulse, the shopkeeper allowed a small smile to quirk on his lips. Sitting back on his heels, he looks at the 6th Division's fukataichou from beneath the brim of his trademark green and white hat, his usual good humor restored, he gives a small chuckle. That pisses Renji off.
"I don't find anythin' to fuckin' laugh at, Urahara," Renji says with a low growl.
Undeterred, the older shinigami doesn't even try to keep the amusement from his voice as he answers, "It's nothing very serious, Abarai-san, it just seems that our young friend more than likely has the flu."
He chuckles at the confused look on Renji's face. "Remember, Kurosaki-kun is human. That means he is vulnerable to human illnesses." Some of the amusement left his voice as he continues, "He has a high fever and he is going to feel downright miserable for several days, but this is nothing that a few days in bed shouldn't clear up. And I mean a few days in bed resting."
He places gentle emphasis on the last word and then laughs again at the blush staining the other shinigami's face. Urahara rises to his feet and says over his shoulder, as he reaches into one of the cabinets lining the wall, "Take him home, give him two of these every four to six hours until his fever breaks and make sure he drinks plenty of fluids." He hands the small, white bottle to Renji.
Urahara pauses at the door way and asks in a slightly more serious tone, "Is Isshin home?"
Renji doesn't look up from gathering the sleeping Ichigo in his arms, "No, he and the girls are out of town visiting relatives for a week or two."
Reaching into a second cabinet, Urahara pulls out another bottle, "Shame since Isshin is a doctor, but no worries. If Ichigo starts coughing, just give him this, the directions are on the bottle. At any time you think he is getting worse or you don't think he has improved in a couple of days, bring him back here." Then the former captain was gone.
A sick Ichigo means a very miserable Renji. Rukia laughs at the scene playing out in front of her as she leans in the doorway of Ichigo's room. Renji trying to coax more pills down the stubborn throat of an indignant Ichigo. The look on Ichigo's face would be called a pout on anyone else.
"I'm fine," sniffs Ichigo, turning his head away from the tablets in Renji's hand. His hands stay fisted in the rumpled covers lying pooled at his waist.
"You are not fine," says an exasperated Renji. "I just took your temperature and you still have a fever. Just take the damn pills already and quit yer bitchin'!"
Rukia, taking pity on Renji, walks over to the bed. She plucks the tablets from his hand and then pops them in the mouth Ichigo has opened to respond to Renji. Holding her slim fingers under the younger shinigami's chin, she forces his mouth closed. Gesturing to Renji for the glass of water, she says "Ichigo, you can let those pills melt on your tongue, which is probably a disgusting taste or I'll let you have some water to wash them down if you promise not to spit them out." Ignoring the narrowing of fever bright chocolate brown eyes, she waits for the nod that she knows will come. Once she sees it, she hands the water glass to him.
"Gah!!" he shudders, "that was the grossest taste, Rukia!"
Ignoring the death glare the shinigami representative is sending her way, she responds calmly, "You could've prevented that if you had just been reasonable and taken the pills on your own."
A sheepish look crosses Ichigo's flushed face as he leans back against his headboard. "Yeah, you are right," he says weakly, the fight gone out of him. He shudders again, although he's not sure if it's from the chill he feels or the nasty taste still in his mouth. He feels his chest tighten and when he tries to take a deep breath it turns into a nasty coughing fit. Seeing the concern in his lover's eyes, this time he takes the offered medicine without a fuss.
"Thanks, Renji," he says softly, handing him back the empty glass of water that had appeared to help wash away the taste of the cough medicine. He leans into the caress as he feels Renji's fingers gently smoothing his hair off his hot forehead.
"Lie down and try to sleep," Renji says, gruffly but not unkindly, "I'm going downstairs to make some dinner. C'mon, Rukia."
Turning on his side, facing the wall, Ichigo listens to the other two leave the room. Hearing their steps fading away, he groans out loud. He feels like shit, not only because he doesn't feel well but because he is also taking his frustration out on the one person who is doing all he can to try and help him feel better. "I'll apologize to Ren later," he thinks to himself before falling into the comforting darkness calling him.
Ichigo wakes with a start, several hours later, struggling to shake off hazy, fever-induced dreams. Pulling himself up to a sitting position with a small groan – Damn but his body aches – he reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand. As he turns, he feels a pang of guilt as he sees Renji sitting in the chair next to his bed, illuminated by the small lamp on his desk. Renji had fallen asleep, his crimson hair down, it softly framing his face, the magazine he had been reading still open on his lap. Noticing the slight frown on the sleeping face, Ichigo reaches over to gently caress the furrowed brow. He closes his eyes, relishing how cool the skin feels beneath his fingers.
Ichigo opens his eyes to see a steady amber gaze on his face. He gives the other man a slight smile as he scoots over closer to the wall.
"Lie down with me Renji?" he asks softly. Sensing Renji's hesitation he says, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice, "Please?"
As Renji nods, Ichigo can't help the small, satisfied smirk that appears, eyes drinking in his lover's body as the older man changes into a pair of light cotton sleep pants. His eyes slip shut as he feels a large, battle roughened hand gently placed on his forehead. He takes the tablets that appear without a fuss, his eyes never leaving the other man's face. Handing back the empty glass, he scoots over a little more to make room for the larger body as he feels the mattress give under the extra weight. He snuggles into the comforting embrace of the older shinigami, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips.
"Sorry for being such pain," he says quietly, a few minutes later. He unconsciously leans into the hand that is running through his orange locks.
"S'ok, Ichii, I know that it's 'cause you aren't feeling well. It's just hard 'cuz I hate seeing you like this and not being able to do anything. It's so damn frustrating," Renji answers just a quietly.
Ichigo gives a rueful chuckle at Renji's candid admission and leans farther back into the solid body behind him. He tucks his head further under his lover's chin, feeling the strong arms tighten around him, protectively, possessively. Renji's skin feels nice and cool where it touches his own fevered skin.
"Aishiteru, Ren," he whispers, just as sleep overtakes him.
Renji smiles as he nuzzles the soft, orange hair of the smaller man. "I love you, too, Ichii," he says as he follows his lover into sleep.