Title: Paroxysm

Summary: Inoue's sick and Ichigo is Ichigo.

Warnings: Nope, it's pretty soft-core.

Word Count: 2,295

Authorial Notice:

Uh, yeah. I know, there are a million other things I was supposed to be working on, but when I sat down to type, this is what came out. And it's much longer than I thought, so I hope you like it!

()()()

Ichigo trudged up the steps to Orihime's apartment, her school books tucked under one arm and his hands shoved into his pockets. He pressed his lips together and glared at the stairs in front of him, ignoring the slight sting of a bruise forming under his left eye. It wasn't that he minded taking Inoue her makeup work, he just sure as hell wished Tatsuki would learn to ask a bit nicer.

Taking a deep breath, he paused at her door, shaking raindrops out of his hair before knocking.

Not that his grumbling and bad mood wasn't justified, but still. Inoue had been pretty sick, or at least sick enough to miss school for most of the past week. He should probably wipe the irritated look off his face before she came to the door.

Except she never came.

Frowning, he knocked again, louder. It wasn't like her to leave someone waiting. More often, Inoue was in such a hurry to answer, that she couldn't be bothered to actually go around anything lying in her path. Pounding with more determination, he waited, listening for movement before cursing. He took a few steps back, wondering how mad she was going to be about the door.

Ichigo hurled his shoulder into it, shoving with all the force he could muster. The wind whistled out of his lungs as he bounced off the surprisingly solid surface. He scrambled to get his feet back under him, flinging out his arms to stop his descent. His hand closed around something solid and round, and the door creaked open as he tumbled through.

He blinked at the carpet.

It wasn't even locked? What the hell?

Climbing to his feet, he looked around. Her apartment was lit by a small lamp in the corner, casting a dull yellow glow over the room, creating just enough light that he could see her.

She was on the couch, eyes closed and skin flushed. Even from across the room, he could see the circles under her eyes and the fine sheen of sweat clinging to her forehead. Her hair was a mass of tangles where she had been moving restlessly in her sleep, the blankets twisted around her legs.

Dropping her books on a table, he kicked the door shut before making his way over. Her head hung slightly over the side of the sofa. He only hesitated a second before slipping a hand under her neck and lifting her back all the way onto the couch, looking away from the thin fabric of her nightgown stretching tight across her chest as he settled her back.

He frowned at the heat clinging to her skin and glanced up when she sighed, her forehead tensing then relaxing. A muscle tensed in his jaw as he ground his teeth, deep in contemplation. She didn't look good.

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair. He could call his father, explain the situation and hope the ridiculous bastard didn't give him too much hassle about it later. Although, she probably wouldn't want that and it was possible that she just needed more rest. He sighed. On the other hand, fevers were dangerous and got out of hand quickly. Shit.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo started, peeking down to see Inoue watching him with sleepy eyes. Her normally soft voice seemed quieter, breathy and distant, like it was coming from far away.

He gave her what he hoped passed for a reassuring smile. "Hey."

"I'm dreaming again…"

He shook his head, his brow wrinkling.

The blankets rustled over her legs as she moved to sit up. She blinked. "Why are you here?"

"I brought your homework." Ichigo swallowed as the lacey strap of her nightgown slipped down her shoulder. "How… uh…" He swallowed again, forcing his eyes up. "How do you feel?"

Orihime stared at him for so long, he wasn't sure she would answer.

"They came back…"

She licked her lips and he fought not to squirm. God, she looked vulnerable. Helpless—

"Wait, what? Who came back…?" Panic and anger swirled around his chest. "Someone was here?" He took her by the shoulders, gently shaking. "Who?"

Releasing her when she didn't answer, he dug through his pocket for his phone and had the first three digits dialed when she spoke again.

"The little people… They put cotton in my head."

Ichigo gaped at her.

"And they stole my gravity. I walked on the ceiling."

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Inoue, have you taken anything for your fever?"

She blinked again, tilting her head in thought before indicating a bottle on the coffee table behind him. "I forgot."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved to get a glass of water.

Kneeling beside her, he shook out two pills and made sure she swallowed them. She drank the entire glass and panted as Ichigo took it from her slackened hand.

"Better?"

She nodded, wiggling back into her nest of blankets.

Ichigo stood and turned away, trying to get some distance. It felt strange, her staring at him that way. All lingering looks and heavy lashes. Damn, it felt like he was the one with the fever.

"Wait."

He glanced over his shoulder. "You need something else?"

"Will you… talk to me? Just for a little while?"

He shouldn't. Even he could tell she was irrational, not quite coherent. And the cream colored lace was still dangling down her arm. The smart thing would be to call Tatsuki and tell her to get her ass over here. Why had she even thought this would be a good idea in the first place?

Ichigo gathered himself before turning back. He sat on the edge of the coffee table with his arms on his knees. As soon as he stopped fidgeting and got comfortable, he looked at her.

"What do you want to talk about?"

She watched his face, making no move to start. Maybe she had already forgotten.

"Inoue?"

Her gaze drifted down the front of his shirt and he could feel it everywhere it traveled until her eyes came to rest on the hands clasped in front of him. He was dimly aware that she seemed to have gotten closer, realizing a little slowly that he was the one leaning forward. His fingers brushed the edge of her blankets.

She didn't blink as her eyes traveled back to his. "I've never been kissed before."

His lungs stopped pulling in air.

Ichigo suddenly understood the term shocked, because that was what it felt like. As if someone had plugged him into the wall. He had taken kicks to the gut that had less force than those words. That was the most revealing and personal thing she had ever said to him. He had no idea how to respond.

She licked her bottom lip and it glimmered in the dull glow of the light. And he really needed to look away.

"Would you…"

His eyes widened, heart pounding furiously in his chest.

"Will you kiss me?"

Every muscle went stiff, and he vaguely wondered if he looked as completely, utterly, blown away as he actually felt. It was as if she had flipped some sort of switch, his brain conveying signals, blood flooding south, his body reflexively preparing itself even before he had fully processed the request.

Her lips were swollen and red from sleep and heat. He could already feel them beneath his, soft and sweet as she yielded to him, clinging to his shoulders while he pushed that lace a little lower...

Ichigo jerked his head back so quickly he almost fell off the table.

"That's… probably not a good idea."

Her head dropped, eyes lowering, and as good as he should have felt about doing the right thing, all he could detect was his own emptiness. A lump formed in his throat as he took in her defeated posture. It didn't make sense that it should bother him so much. He was doing the right thing. Not taking advantage of her when she was half delirious and didn't even know what she was saying, was a good thing. But god, it was tempting.

His stomach sank further in his gut.

She probably wouldn't even remember this tomorrow.

That thought circled his head, coming back in a very different light. She wouldn't even remember. He wasn't sure if he was thrilled or disappointed at the revelation.

Her head was back against the armrest, lashes against her cheeks as she studied the floor. A small pout adorned her reddened lips and he was caught. His movements were fluid as he slipped from the table, sliding a hand into the hair at the base of her neck.

Silver eyes flashed up and her surprised gasp was cut off as his mouth sealed over hers. An aching thrill shot through his lips, and he had to inhale sharply to bring air back into his lungs before lowering his head again. Orihime slid a trembling arm around his neck drawing him back to her and heat flared down his chest at the contact, pooling in his gut as he moved to get a better angle.

She was sweet and warm, and nothing like what he had thought. Ichigo relaxed against her, the fingers of his other hand grazing her bare shoulder, testing the softness of skin and the firmness of muscle. He wondered if the delicate flesh of her neck tasted anything like her mouth and he would have moved to find out, but he couldn't let go of the kiss. It held him, entangling him with its own desires. Like a living thing, set on consuming them both.

His tongue swept along the seam of her lips and all he could think about was finding a way in, getting more of her. When she opened her mouth for him, he groaned low in the back of his throat.

Her fingers were trailing into his hair, short nails scraping dizzying circles that would have put him to sleep if he had been doing anything else. Now they excited him, pushed him forward, made him both strong and boneless. He took control of her mouth, pressing deeper, his body throbbing painfully, anxious to find more of her to explore and far too eager for him to continue down this path. He needed to stop.

Her whimper broke the kiss. It sounded wild and reckless, and it sent a shot of pure adrenaline down his spine. The feeling was so intense that he gasped, light flashing behind his eyes as he fell back on his knees.

He panted openly, one hand still wrapped in her hair and the other fisting her top at the waist.

Her lashes fluttered and a smile tugged at her lips. "That was nice."

She blinked once, then twice and her eyes drifted closed as her breathing evened out into light exhales of sleep.

Ichigo stared at her for a full five minutes before his brain kicked back into gear and he unclenched his fingers, letting them trail free.

Nice?

He licked his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth to see if any of her taste was left. There hadn't been anything nice about that. It was… It had been…

He stood, swiping a hand through his hair and looking at her. Reaching down, he tugged a sheet up, making sure she was covered before heading to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, looking back to see her chest rise and fall with her breathing. He opened the door, twisting the lock behind him he let himself out.

()()()

Ichigo sneezed and scrubbed a hand over his clammy face before slumping over his desk, exhausted.

Keigo was buzzing somewhere in the background, but Ichigo was so tired he couldn't even work up the energy to hit him. He groaned, dropping his head to the cool surface below as Inoue materialized in front of him.

"Morning, Kurosaki- kun!" She bounced on the balls of her feet, flashing a smile so bright that it made him wince just to look at it. "Oh, no! You got sick, too? You should go to the nurse, right away!"

He covered his face with his hands, wondering if he could blame the flush working its way up his cheeks on the fever. "I'm fine."

She frowned, a sullen pout pushing out her bottom lip. "I feel so bad, I must have got you sick…"

His back stiffened and he watched her from between his fingers.

"Uh, w-why do you say that? I could have caught this anywhere."

"Hmm. That's true. I just thought it made more sense, because we kissed."

The room went quiet, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tatsuki's head very slowly rotating his direction.

Ichigo stood so quickly that his chair clattered over. "You know, Inoue, I think you're right. I should go to the nurse—"

He fled, leaping over his fallen chair and heading for the door, all earlier traces of fatigue forgotten as he felt Tatsuki's fingers groping for his neck. Suddenly, he felt like he could run a marathon.

()()()

A/N

Yeah, somewhat of an abrupt end, but unless you guys want the detailed beating that follows, this was as good a place as any.

Your reviews make me do a happy dance, so please… make me happy :)