Requested by Nadie- thank you
Zaraki x Unohana
Much
"I'm afraid that I have had too much to drink, Captain."
"No such thing as too much, y'know."
He took the glass- which she had held in her hands ever since he had escorted her, with a degree of cordiality and chivalry that surprised everyone, from the Gotei seated officer Christmas party. He took her back to the Eleventh, only a five minute walk away (rather than the Fourth, which was closer to thirty), fully intending to lay her in the bed in the Lieutenant's quarters. Yachiru never used it- she had set up a fort several years ago in the walk-in-wardrobe, and slept in there on a nest of cushions and blankets.
However, as soon as they arrived, she had fallen in an elegant heap onto the floor, and had smiled up at him in a way that was different to her normal smile- still radiating, still beautiful, but missing the sharp edge that it normally did, that had terrified more than a few shinigami over the years.
He reached into a drawer- and she was sure that it should have held something official- and pulled out a near-black bottle.
"What's that?"
He glanced up, briefly, before reaching into the bookcase and pulling out a square cardboard file, the rectangular boxy kind that looked like a book when its spine was facing outwards. He opened it, and took out two tumblers.
"It's stronger than that eggnog shit you've been drinking."
He poured out two sizeable measures of the dark liquid, and took both glasses in one hand, the bottle in the other, and set them all on the table. She took one of the glasses and tilted her head back, but was stopped by a hand, and its hold, on her wrist.
"Don't slug it, woman. Taste it."
She paused, and did as he said. It was heavy and sweet, with a strangely bitter under-taste of-
"Coffee!"
She quietened herself, a little embarrassed by her outburst, but he only nodded, face unmoving.
"Coffee."
He sipped his own, with quick savour, before filling both of their glasses, this time to the top. She mimicked how he drank, watching him out of the corner of her eyes.
"It's nice."
He grunted, and poured himself another, deliberately ignoring her own glass. After a moment, he finished his third, and got to his feet.
"Sleep in the second left down the corridor. If Yachiru wakes up, tell her I said so."
She too stood, although a little more shakily, and took a step towards him, in order to take his hand and thank him. This proper and dignified gesture, however, backfired somewhat when she tripped on the corner of the rug and fell heavily against his chest. He steadied her with a hand holding each of her shoulders, but he seemed somewhat unnerved at the wide-eyed stare she directed at him.
"What?"
She smiled again, the strange, sudden bright smile that he did not know how to take.
He was even more confused, however, when she pressed her hands to his cheeks, reaching high to feel the rough, scarred skin underneath her own cool fingers. He said nothing, and did not move. She inched slowly around, moving his bulk with her, until she was standing next to the table. Not taking her eyes or her hands off him, she stepped backwards onto the table with all the grace and smoothness of a entirely sober dancer, and when their heights were slightly more levelled, she stood on her tip-toes and pressed her lips against his.
"Thank you for looking after me, Captain."
His hands held her waist, and lifted her bodily, like a limp rag doll, into a strangely warm embrace.