After they were all video-gamed out, Ichigo fell asleep on the couch for a while, and Renji did his own thing and let him nap. As he slept, Ichigo's fever and congestion seemed to worsen again, so Renji tried to make some soup for when he woke up.

When he coughed himself awake, Renji came and wiped his hot face and tried to take care of him. One thing he'd noticed over the course of his life was that most people learned how to sneeze politely on reflex and send air through the mouth instead of the nose. Ichigo had obviously never learned this, because he didn't sneeze politely at all – he sneezed like a baby did, sending all the snot contained in his inflamed nasal passages straight out of his nose, leaving it hanging in strings from his face. When he blew his nose, it would fill the tissue and leave his lips and cheeks wet when he'd fail to wipe it well enough. Worse than that was that instead of blowing his nose, he sniffed and sniffed for as long as possible to try and hold it in, and then when he'd inevitably sneeze, it was far more disgusting because of the build-up. Renji had gotten over the grossness-factor early on in the game.

What was kind of funny was that Ichigo was in med school, and was usually very clean – he washed his hands and was very conscious of germs and how to avoid spreading them, but at this point he was miserable and desperate enough that he was wiping his face on his sleeves and his arms, and was sneezing directly into his hands instead of his elbows. Really, he was pitiful.

Renji held a cup of water for him while Ichigo wiped his face with his sleeve. He let Renji help him drink and settle back down on the couch, and then watched Renji for a time. Renji folded up the cloth again and set it on his forehead, carefully wiping back his hair. "You hungry? I'm making some soup."

"Okay," Ichigo rasped, and continued to look at him for a long time, as though he were thinking. Renji tucked his feet back under the blanket and moved his tissue box closer to him, then stood up to go check his food.

"How come you're being so nice to me?" Ichigo asked quietly, halting Renji in his tracks and sending his gut plummeting. "Why're you taking care of me?

Renji frowned and looked away, trying to nip this in the bud before it could get bad, because he knew exactly what Ichigo was getting at.

"Ichigo-" he tried.

"Really," Ichigo rasped, eyes on his face, unrelenting.

Renji sighed and grit his teeth, hands balling into tense fists. "Are you sure you wanna' have this conversation?" He dared to glance to Ichigo with one eye, and Ichigo was looking at him with his brow lightly creased.

"Tell me."

Renji turned his back and breathed, "You know why," his chest clenching up on the words, even though they were just air, even though they were harmless on their own.

"Then say it," Ichigo urged in his thick strained voice, "Just say it."

Eyes flicking around desperately, Renji croaked out, "Why, if you already know?"

Why was Ichigo doing this now? Had Renji pushed him into a corner? Had he come on too strong and made it unavoidable? Why was Ichigo doing this? To punish him – humiliate him? Renji swallowed hard and bit his tongue.

He's tried so hard to be a good person - he's sure he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't understand why Ichigo would be so heartless.

"I'm asking you to say it." Ichigo's voice was soft, having coughed itself down to almost nothing, and even with the tone so gentle, Renji felt every word like the blow of a hammer. He thought he'd break apart from the pain.

"Ichigo, what're you tryin'a' do ta' me?" he begged, his voice almost cracking. He can't do it – he really can't. He can't say it, and it's not because he was strong enough to withstand this cruelty. It's because he knows Ichigo doesn't love him back, and if Ichigo makes him say it just to shoot him down, his heart won't survive it. That's why he can't say it, truly, and he can't bear it.

It came out then, in a moment of ugliness; undeniable. All this time he's told himself that he was keeping it in for Ichigo's sake, because he had to be the better person and not push his feelings on Ichigo, because he was strong enough to hold it in, but the truth was he'd never said it because he was too weak, too afraid.

He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't strong enough to hear Ichigo reject him, to hear that Ichigo didn't love him, didn't return this feeling. He already knew he was unadoptable, unlovable, unwanted, and he knew he couldn't make Ichigo love him; he knew all those things and could shoulder that burden - but he's not strong enough to do this. He can't say it, he can't lay out his deepest darkest strongest desires, his hopes, his affection, he can't lay that out to be ridiculed and torn apart. He's not strong enough to put the pieces back together afterwards.

And even now with Ichigo ripping through his facade, taking his excuses away, all that's left inside of Renji is regret, and guilt, and despair.

He's been a bad person, he's a bad friend. All this time he'd told himself he was happy with what he had, but he'd been harboring this secret hope. He shouldn't hope for more. He's wrong to hope for more. He horrible to hope for more. It would be selfish to hope for more than what he deserved.

Renji balanced on a thread in the silence, body shaking, he can't slip, he can't - it's over, all of it gone, everything-

"Renji," Ichigo said, and Renji broke.

He turned, eyes wide and pained, and took the few steps to the side of the couch – he crouched, and kissed Ichigo, full on his cracked and peeling mouth-breathing lips.

Ichigo was motionless against him, breathing into Renji's mouth as he held his face and kissed him. Renji immediately hated himself, because he was a loathsome thief, that's what he was doing, stealing, he was a traitor - and like every other time, Ichigo was letting him do as he wanted, wasn't stopping him no matter how far he pushed.

He would stop, he really would, but he'd fallen off the edge and he felt delirious, hysterical, seized with the desperate urge to kiss him and hold him and love him, to let his selfish wants take over. There wasn't any taking it back; he'd already wrecked everything, and he might as well try and hold onto this moment. He held Ichigo's face in his hands and pressed his body over him, don't let him escape, don't let him move or he'll push you away-

After a long tense second of two of Ichigo holding as still as a statue, lips stiff beneath Renji's, he gave a hitched intake of break and squirmed strangely. Seized with panic, Renji dug his fingers into his cheeks and screwed his eyes shut, because if Ichigo pulled back or said no, he'd have to let go, he'd have to stop, and he wasn't ready, he didn't want to let go...

For this moment, with Ichigo twitching in surprise, he could almost pretend that Ichigo was kissing him back, he could pretend that what he was doing wasn't wrong, wasn't a betrayal, he could think about how he's always wanted to do this, always w-

"Ehh-ksh!"