Ichigo had been expecting to be turned into a slave of sorts that afternoon, but he was relieved to discover that an ailing Hitsugaya was surprisingly undemanding. Most likely because he was sleeping practically the whole time, though.
Every now and then, he would take a look at the clock, and as the minutes ticked by, they seemed to convert themselves into half-hour intervals fairly quickly. He glanced at his peacefully dozing Sleeping Beauty, wondering if waking him up would be a holy sin. After all, he looked so content, and sleep was the only way that he could get relief from the irritations of his sickness.
But herbal tea was herbal tea, and Matsumoto had left the home with her utmost trust in him caring properly for the sick captain, and to disappoint her would be a holy sin, too, especially since the divine punishment could potentially involve those awful breasts from the bowels of hell.
Feeling somewhat guilty, Ichigo picked up the cup of tea from the bedside table, gently nudging Hitsugaya's shoulder. "Hey, Toshiro," he whispered. "Sorry to wake you up, but I have to give you some tea now."
With a soft moan of protest, Hitsugaya opened his eyes, groggily rolling over to face Ichigo. He blinked blearily, rubbing his eyes and struggling to sit up against the backboard of the bed, gripping the linen bedspread tightly as he did so.
"That's a good boy," Ichigo crooned, patting Hitsugaya's head. The venomous glare he received in return told him that it was best not to fawn over him like a puppy at the moment. Though it was awfully hard to resist.
"Open wide," Ichigo said cheerfully, taking a spoonful of the tea. "Here comes the airplane…"
Hitsugaya simply glared.
Ichigo tried again. "Here comes the steamboat!"
There was minimal change of response.
"Here comes the choo-choo train…?"
Hitsugaya's scowl darkened.
Ichigo sighed. "Just drink it, okay? Three spoonfuls is all, alright? That's not too bad now, is it?"
He extended the teaspoon forward, slipping the metal article of silverware between his little patient's pouting lips, tipping it in such a fashion as to ensure that every last drop of the vile substance was ingested.
Hitsugaya pursed his lips in distaste, but did nothing more as he grudgingly swallowed the bitter liquid. He coughed briefly, drawing the covers around himself, and rasped, "Two more doses."
Nodding, Ichigo administered the next two spoonfuls that were required, each dose met by the recipient with an unhappy pout. Hey, I don't think you would be smiling if you had to take three doses of something as disgusting as that.
After the last drop had been swallowed, Hitsugaya murmured, "Water. Please."
"Yeah. I'll go get that for you right now," Ichigo complied, remembering Matsumoto's instruction that dictated where the water was located. He hurried to the kitchen, seizing the glass pitcher of water and filling a cup full with it.
Making his way back to the guest bedroom, being extra careful as to not spill the water on Orihime's hardwood floors, the strawberry handed Hitsugaya the cup.
"Thank you," the boy managed to whisper as he took a long sip of the water. With a sigh of content, he surrendered himself back to the confines of the bedsheets, head sinking back into the pillow as he settled himself under the covers.
"Sleep well, Toshiro," Ichigo whispered, planting a soft kiss on his white-haired prodigy's forehead before plopping himself back down on the rocking chair. Not long afterwards, the room was entirely quiet, save the sound of Hitsugaya's labored breathing, and before he knew it, Ichigo himself had dozed off as well.
When he awoke from his nap, Ichigo discovered that another half-hour had almost passed. He glanced at Hitsugaya, who was huddled under the covers, shivering violently.
Confused, Ichigo pondered the scene for a moment. His darling little ice prince was shivering, and therefore was cold!? What the hell? Was something like that even possible? What could possibly explain such an occurrence? Paranormal phenomena? Extraterrestrial radio transmissions? The occult? The advent of the apocalypse? Or maybe even Chuck Norris?
At any rate, he needed some warming up, and Ichigo decided that he would be the right man for the job. But first, he would need more doses of the tea.
Hitsugaya looked most displeased when Ichigo roused him from his sleep, but his sour expression only worsed after being fed the three tea doses once again. It was quite fortunate that he looked adorable with messy bed hair, otherwise Ichigo would be pretty scared of him by now.
After he drank the proper amount, Hitsugaya pathetically plopped back into the cavernous clutches of the mountains of blankets and pillows Matsumoto had provided.
However, he was unable to remain in such a position for long as he felt a strong pair of arms wrap themselves under and around him, scooping him up into the air.
"Ichigo! Wh-what do you think you're doing!? Put me down this instant!"
"Nope," Ichigo responded cheerfully. "I don't think I will." He carried the whining and squirming taichou to the living room bridal style, with some difficulty due to the fact that he refused to stop thrashing, but he was pleased that he was as light as he looked. He then deposited him on the couch upon reaching their destination. "Don't move," he instructed. "I'll be right back, okay?"
Trusting that Hitsugaya wouldn't run off, he hurried back up the stairs to fetch the blankets and pillows, carrying them back to the room in a mass of linen goodness. He arranged the pillows on the couch around Hitsugaya in a way that he hoped would make him more comfortable, before seating himself next to him and pulling the blankets over the both of them.
Finally, he managed to get a hold of the remote control, flipping the television on before settling on a channel that was airing horror movies.
(AN: I love Japanese horror movies. I'm addicted to them. They have everything you could possibly want – blood, death, darkness…oh, and sex. The world can't live without sex.)
He wrapped his arms around Hitsugaya, pulling him close. "Poor little Shiro-chan," he teased, "Sick, cold, and frightened. But don't worry. Ichigo will protect you from the evil monsters and hollows."
"I can protect myself," Hitsugaya retorted hoarsely, but his cold words didn't quite seem to match his actions as he snuggled against the strawberry, clutching the hems of his shirt.
As the movie played, both boys watched the screen intently, though neither of them was really that scared. You get used to corpses and freakish mutants and blood after a decent shinigami career.
Presently, Ichigo looked downwards, and was only a little surprised to see Hitsugaya fast asleep in his arms, snuggled against him, head resting in his lap.