Chapter 8 – Night and Day
Warnings: yes, when I say this is a yaoi fic, I really mean it. Thus, gay sex is gonna happen, and frequently. I like it that way. XD Also: swearing, adult situations, death
Discl: Lest I repeat myself – Byakuya, I love you. But I don't own you. Just like Grimmjow! Dammit, I don't own any of it!
A/N: Couple things about the last chapter … I realized I had had Byakuya and Ichigo make a date where they were supposed to meet outside the employee entrance at 0730, then ignored it as they met at the coffee shop. *smack forehead* I'll fix it someday! ;) Also, you may have noticed (if you know anything about yaoi manga, anime, etc) that I don't normally screw around with the necessities of lube and condoms. This is an author's cognizant choice – I don't wanna disrupt the romantic flow by interrupting for these things. It doesn't mean I don't think they're necessary – far from it! – I just rarely include them in my romantic fiction. Which I get to do since I'm, like, the author. ;)
But on we go ….
"Kurosaki-kun …" Byakuya Kuchiki murmured, his voice like molten honey, his breath puffing lightly on Ichigo's face, "… put your arms and legs around me." His raven hair hung down around his face, falling forward to tickle Ichigo's ears and neck, forming a dark curtain that framed the older man's aristocratic features.
Picture it, if you will: Ichigo lay on his back on the floor, naked but for a sheen of perspiration, knees up. Byakuya was above him, on his knees and elbows, also completely nude. Ichigo had been unable to drag his eyes away when, after their first bout of love-making, Byakuya had unselfconsciously walked into the kitchen area to get a bottle of water for them to share. Ichigo had watched through half-closed eyes as the man had walked away from him, then stared shamelessly as the light from the fridge shone upon him. His body was perfection: slender but muscular, with long legs, a trimmed patch of black pubic hair, and pale unmarred skin. In the near-darkness of Ichigo's apartment, he looked like a marble sculpture, one that offered the artist's view of male perfection. Correction: aroused male perfection.
His erection had not diminished after coming the first time. Byakuya was not surprised at this – it had been so very, very long since he'd been with a man, and being with Ichigo Kurosaki was something he'd fantasized about for quite some time. Sitting on the couch, they'd finished the water and then looked at each other. Ichigo couldn't stop staring at the man next to him … his, well, beauty was so stunning. Long silken black hair … understated muscles that rippled with each movement … that elegant cock, jutting up from his hips.
"Kuchiki-sensei," he had said, voice cracking, and then Byakuya's hand was in his hair, gripping, pulling him in for a slow sweet kiss. When he finally pulled away, Ichigo was shaking as heat built in his pelvis. Byakuya got to his feet and helped Ichigo up, pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him, their bodies pressing tightly in all the right places – more amazing kissing, lips and teeth and tongue. Ichigo was barely aware of movement until he felt the floor underneath his back, all his awareness was zeroed in on that man and his mouth. All the desperation of their first time was gone. Byakuya had raised himself up off Ichigo for a moment, pulled up his left leg by gripping it behind the knee, and lined up. Ichigo relaxed with effort, and moaned shamelessly when that hard member penetrated him and slid home, buried to the hilt. Byakuya let out a soft gasp as he stared into Ichigo's eyes, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black.
"Ahhh, yes," Ichigo whispered, his face reflecting both the pleasure and the pain he was feeling, without realizing it he'd raised his other leg and bent that knee, too, in order to take in all of that luscious penis.
But Byakuya didn't move right away. He petted and kissed Ichigo until he felt the tension drain out of the younger male, felt his opening soften and relax. Then he had begun a slow grinding movement with his hips as he stroked the fingertips of one hand down Ichigo's chest and belly. After he had Ichigo panting and moaning with helpless pleasure, that's when he'd spoken those words: put your arms and legs around me.
Ichigo did, expecting another wild joining like they'd had previously. And that would be fucking fine, he was up for anything Byakuya Kuchiki wanted to dish out. Instead, Sensei slowly pulled almost all the way out, until the rim of his head met Ichigo's sphincter, then slid just as slowly back in. Again. Again. Again. Ichigo could feel every inch … the pain was gone, all he could feel now was sweet, sweet pleasure. "Ah .. ah .. ahh," Ichigo murmured with each slow thrust, his eyes closed and ecstasy reflected on his face.
A slight shift in Byakuya's position as he continued making love to the orange-haired male below him. Another alteration in position, switching the angle … another long slow thrust as he watched Ichigo's face.
"Ah!" Ichigo's eyes popped open. "N-not there!" he yelped before thinking, tightening his hold on the older man.
"Yes. There." With a kiss, Byakuya pulled out and slid in again, the head of his cock lightly rubbing against Ichigo's prostate gland. He was using all his discipline to hold himself back, to keep from pounding Ichigo into the floor, to keep from coming too soon. He wanted to make an impression on Ichigo, give him something to remember and think about the next time he was alone. Basically, he wanted to do what Grimmjow wanted to do: imprint himself on Ichigo Kurosaki, make him his. Adjusting his angle again slightly, on this thrust not only did the head impact Ichigo's prostate, but Byakuya's entire dick slid along the sensitive gland, stroking it gently, caressing it in keeping with the soft, slow fuck the older man was dishing out. The oranget's eyes squeezed shut as Byakuya licked his lips and sucked on the lower one, humming deep in his throat.
Ichigo's body thrummed as his rectum clenched around Byakuya's hardness. His desire was spiraling up and he wanted … he wanted … what the hell did he want? Their first union had been satisfyingly unhinged, a good pounding fuck that had made him explode within minutes. This was almost torture … slow controlled thrusts, sliding maddeningly along his prostate … Ichigo's cock was hard as a rock, twitching, weeping pre-seminal fluid freely. "Ah .. ah .. nn," he moaned, and then opened his eyes, lifting his head off the floor to look at Byakuya … really look at him.
A light coating of sweat made his alabaster skin glisten in the dim lighting. Head down, he was apparently looking down between their bodies, watching his cock slide in and out of Ichigo, watching the redhead's dick twitch and dribble pre-cum onto his belly. So Ichigo looked, too. A sharp spike of desire made his stomach muscles clench. God damn Kuchiki-sensei was a gorgeous sexy man. Just look at him – look at him! Jesus Christ! The muscles in his abdomen stood out in stark relief as his body undulated, slow and sensuous, his hips angled to provide that prostate-caressing slide with each thrust. Poetry in motion … the words resounded in Ichigo's mind, nonsensically, as he licked his lips and couldn't tear his eyes away. Beautiful. Byakuya Kuchiki was absolutely beautiful, both visually and … in motion.
Ichigo slowly slid his hands down Byakuya's back, feeling the muscles in play, until his fingers met the twin flexing globes of the man's perfect ass. "Ahh," it was wrenched from his mouth as his fingers clenched, released, then clenched again. Byakuya's head came up as he looked into Ichigo's eyes.
"Mmm," he hummed, giving a more emphatic thrust with his hips … but then with visible effort he returned to the slow, sweet rhythm. "Ichigo … Ichigo-kun …" he moaned, sweat glistening on his upper lip. "Ah, yess … you feel so good," whispered as his eyelids fluttered closed. But then suddenly he sat up, taking Ichigo's wrists in his hands as he leaned forward, pulling the oranget's arms up over his head, pressing his wrists against the floor. Ichigo clenched harder with his legs, locking his ankles behind Byakuya. Long and lean, the older man's body slid along his, sweat making it a slippery erotic sensation as he continued that oh-so-hot, languid rhythm. Ichigo's eyes opened wide … he'd been about to grab his own cock and stroke one out, but now the slow build-up was a kind of torture.
"S-sensei … please," he groaned, panting, straining upwards to lick the older man's jaw, biting his neck and tonguing his Adam's apple, sucking it, trying to goad the man into abandoning his control and fuck him, goddammit!
"Kurosaki-kun," Byakuya murmured, "what is it? Hmm?" He slid that cock in again. "What do you want?" Out, inch by maddening inch.
"Please … ahh … I need .. I need …" Ichigo shook with desire as a wanton moan worked its way out of his throat. Sweat began to mix with the pre-seminal fluid pooling on his belly. His cock was hard as an oak, his rectum twitched and tightened around Byakuya's dick as it entered again, rubbing the whole length along Ichigo's sweet spot, a little harder this time.
"You need?" Byakuya prompted, not interrupting the slow fuck, and captured Ichigo's lips just as the younger male was about to answer. The kiss was searing, deep and soulful, and just when Ichigo thought it might propel him into coming, Byakuya broke it, never altering or halting his stride. So good. So fucking good!
"I know what you need, Ichigo," Byakuya whispered on the out-slide … and then he rammed it home, striking Ichigo's prostate dead-on. A slow slide out, then he snapped his hips forward and nailed the gland again. Ichigo shouted, body convulsing, straining against the hands that still held his wrists over his head, legs tightening even more around the raven-haired man's waist. He couldn't help it – he began to move his hips, goading the older man, trying to egg him on but it didn't. Fucking. Work!
An untold number of reps wherein Ichigo was still unable to break that iron will, try though he may. "Sensei! Please! Ah!"
"You have to say it." Slowly – out. The smack of flesh as Byakuya rammed it back in, all the way, one smooth quick motion. "Say it … say it now, Kurosaki-kun." Control. But slipping. Sweat dripping off his face, sprinkling Ichigo's neck. Out, maddening! IN – yes! God yes!
Straining against the iron hands that held his arms in place, Ichigo stared pleadingly up at the raven-haired man who apparently intent on driving him insane. His voice was hoarse as he said, "Sensei, please … please just fuck me … please God please," as his dick was trapped between their bodies on the out-stroke, sweet pressure and friction, so good, so good, making him arch up and groan out loud.
"You do it." Growled. Those hands yanked on his wrists, pulling Ichigo upright and onto Byakuya's thighs. The older man sat back and straightened out his legs as he pulled Ichigo in closer onto his lap, burying his cock even further up inside, making Ichigo shout his approval out loud. "Show me your fire, Ichigo-kun," Byakuya groaned as his hands grasped Ichigo's buttocks, spreading them apart and simultaneously pushing him even further down onto his throbbing hard cock.
"AH!" Ichigo was momentarily stunned, both by the change in position and the depth of the dick in his ass, but he quickly recovered. He was free! Grasping Byakuya by the shoulders, he raised himself up, slid himself back down, finding his position and angle … and then it was on. "Yes … ah, yes yes yes," Ichigo moaned, then yelped with surprise as a tight fist gripped his erection, thumb rubbing the sweet spot at the base of the head.
Byakuya's other hand slid up Ichigo's flank, up his back to his shoulder blade, then back down again. "Show me your fire," he repeated in a whisper, and began stroking Ichigo's cock in time with his movements.
"Nn! Nn ah!" Ichigo was practically bouncing on Byakuya's lap, impaling himself over and over in a paroxysm of pleasure. Desire. Sensuality. Heat.
"I'm close," Byakuya groaned. "Kurosaki … Kurosaki …."
His … his voice … "Sensei! C-coming! Ah God, 'm coming!" Ichigo's body convulsed again, slowing, but Byakuya's hand slid once again to his buttocks and he kept him moving. With the other hand he clenched Ichigo's dick tightly, at the base, holding off his orgasm, until … oh, yeah. Oh fuck yes. Until now. As the heat exploded within him, he let go of Ichigo's cock and buried himself inside that hot tightness. Ichigo shouted as he began to come, his dick twitching as cum spurted out between them. Pulling the younger man's head down, he kissed him passionately, sucking his tongue and sliding his tongue against the underside.
Moaning non-stop, the pleasure white-hot inside his body and his mind, Ichigo clung to the man who held him tightly on his lap. The sensation of Byakuya's cum filling him up inside seemed to extend his orgasm … and the feeling of his tongue being sucked … and those hands clutching him tightly … and his cock trapped tightly between their abdomens … and the answering moans from the man he'd wanted for so, so long. "Mm … mm mm!" He shuddered, moaning, pressing himself tightly against Byakuya's hard body as his orgasm hit its crescendo, and then he was feeling that languid pleasant afterglow as it slowly, slowly died away. "God … ah, God," he said, breathing hard, head back on his neck, eyes closed, mouth open to suck in as much oxygen as he could.
Byakuya was breathing hard, too … big time. He hung onto Ichigo, his head down on the younger male's chest, eyes closed, hands still clenched on those oh-so-talented hips. Why had he married that whore and denied this side of himself for so long? Stupid question, he knew why: duty. Duty to his house and his name and his family. Willing all thoughts of his failed marriage aside, he basked in the aftershocks as his dick twitched inside the younger man. Amazing. He hadn't been lying or even remotely exaggerating when he'd called Ichigo that. He took in a deep shuddering breath, then blew it out and raised his head, looking up to find Ichigo gazing down at him, petting his hair, with a look on his face of utter satisfaction.
Disregarding the sweat and cum drying on their bodies, Byakuya's softening member still inside Ichigo's ass, they kissed.
XXX
Son of a fucking bitch. Grimmjow fumed as he let himself into Szayel's house, slamming the door behind him and shedding his clothes as he stomped through the house on the way to his brother's large, ornate bathroom. (Really, he'd never seen anything like it … it reminded him of the prefect's bathroom on that one wizard-boy movie. Harry Potter, that was it. Grimm had watched them because he was an Alan Rickman fan.) "Lavish" was a good word for Zay's huge gold and black marble washroom, with its wide deep sunken bathtub, separate whirlpool bath, multi-jet stand-alone shower, and frosted-glass picture windows and skylights. Tossing his clothes aside as he entered, he turned on the shower and waited until it was nice and hot, then got into the deluge.
He shampooed his hair twice, the fragrance of the pricey stuff reminding him of Zay. He'd be going back to the hospital today, but first he had to pick up his parents in order to take them in with him. That reminded him of something, too – the talk with Dr. Kuchiki was today. They'd be discussing taking that fucking tube out of Zay's throat. Grimmjow frowned as he rinsed the expensive shampoo off his hair. Dammit. Somehow he'd have to find a way to squelch his personal feelings about that fucking black-haired bastard and remember that he was his brother's doctor … and that he came with a reputation that was sterling. Shit.
The prick had stolen Ichigo right out from under him. Obviously the two had a history, even if it was a benign one, since they'd known each other professionally for what was probably a matter of years. It was hard to win against something like that. But goddammit, he was going to try. Something about Ichigo Kurosaki had gotten under his skin … he wanted to be his one and only … and that wasn't something that Grimm had ever really fought for before. Oh, sure, he'd been in relationships. But he'd just sort-of fallen into them, none of them had been anything planned on his part. If the sex was good and their personalities didn't clash like oil and water – sure, okay, why not?
But this was different. And he couldn't even really put his finger on exactly what it was that was different about the orange-haired man. Sure he was good-looking. And fuckin' sexy, definitely. And his reactions when they'd been together, doin' a dual handjob on the hospital roof – damnation. His dick twitched when he thought about it, remembering the submissively acquiescing Ichigo, his blushing cheeks and his, um … obedience. Whew. Settle down. He wasn't about to jack one off in the shower, a man like Grimmjow Jaegerjacques didn't need to do the solitary tango. He had willing partners all over the world, with more standing in line, for fuck's sake. Frowning, he rinsed off and turned off the water, toweled himself dry, then redressed in the clothes he'd only had on for an hour or so before the shower.
His mother and father were due in about a half-hour. Grimmjow raided the fridge and made himself a concoction that consisted of yogurt, two sliced bananas, granola, coconut, slivered almonds, and a mashed-up chunk of angelfood cake. It looked like hell but it tasted great. He took the bowl into the living room and ate it standing at the huge wall of windows on the northeast side of the house, watching birds at the feeder and birdbath. He wanted to consider the "Ichigo/Kuchiki Problem" further, but knew he didn't have time to really make a plan of attack. Instead, he thought about Zay and his hopes for the day's meeting. Dr. Kuchiki. Doctor. Kuchiki. Not "the fucking prick who stole my future lover", but "the doctor who would be responsible for bringing my brother back to the world of the awake". He finished the … stuff in the bowl, belched on his way to the kitchen, rinsed out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher, then went out on the front porch to smoke, give Neliel a call to check in, and wait for his parents.
XXX
"It's getting late," Byakuya said as Ichigo gave him a hand-up off the floor. "It is after 9, have I kept you from going to sleep?"
Ichigo smiled as he waved the question away. "Don't worry about it. I have plenty of time to get plenty of sleep. I'm … I'm glad you came over."
"As am I," Byakuya returned, planting another kiss on Ichigo's lips. With that minute twitch of his lips, he found his clothing and looked at it, frowning.
Ichigo quickly intervened. "Sensei, please go shower. Here, let me show you the way." He took Byakuya's clothes out of his hands and steered him into the bathroom and showed him how to work the fixtures, explaining that he needed to be careful with the hot water selector because one millimeter = roughly 8000 degrees. "I'll take care of your clothes," he added, as that gorgeous man stepped into the shower (one that he'd recently shared with Starrk and Gin. Jesus!)
…
When Byakuya came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, Ichigo was just finishing up ironing his pants. He looked up at a wet-haired vision and swallowed hard, then smiled. "Here … all ready," he said. He had just slid back into his jeans … no biggie, he'd be getting ready for bed as soon as Kuchiki-sensei left.
"Thank you, Kurosaki-kun," he said. "This is most welcome … and helpful. I have that meeting with Grantz-san's father, mother, and brother in 45 minutes." He slid into the newly-pressed shirt, buttoning it up to the collar. His suit coat was in the car, along with his tie. Pulling on the pants and zipping them up, he looked up to find Ichigo watching intently. The younger man blushed and began putting away the iron and ironing board.
"I hope the meeting goes well … I guess I'll find out how Szayel-san is doing when I get in tonight," Ichigo replied when he turned back from closing the pantry door.
"Yes," Byakuya said. He walked to the door, Ichigo behind him, and slid into his shoes. "I am very pleased with things between you and I, Kurosaki-kun," he said, straightening up. "That was …."
"Amazing."
"Yes." He looked down at the shorter man, admiring his naked chest and the jeans that hung low on his hips. "I do not think I could have asked for a better end to my sexual drought." His mouth quirked upward on one side.
Ichigo recognized it for the smile it was. "I'm happy to have been there when the dam burst," he said, grinning.
Byakuya opened the door and turned back for a second to reach out and grasp Ichigo's shoulder. "Again. Soon. Yes?"
"Definitely." Ichigo leaned forward, but the doctor merely squeezed his shoulder companionably and then turned around, heading for the elevators. Ichigo watched him go, slightly disappointed that he didn't apparently rate a goodbye kiss … but then he shook himself and gave himself a mental lecture. Remember who he is. Remember how understated he is, his personality. The glimpses you got into a passionate Kuchiki-sensei today should be enough. When Byakuya didn't look back, he squelched his disappointment again – stop being such a girl! – and closed the door.
XXX
… "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Grantz," Kuchiki-sensei said, bowing. They currently stood outside room 313. Byakuya had explained what he was wanting to do for their son, and had told them that Jaegerjacques-san had approved it. They nodded their heads and assured him that they, too, would like to proceed with extubation.
"Doctor … what do you think of my son's prognosis? Has anything changed significantly over the past several days?" Mr. Grantz was a shortish, slightly plump man who had a head of auburn hair that was cut stylishly and had every appearance of being 100% natural. His wife, taller than he and with long, blue-black hair that cascaded down her back in a straight shiny sheet, nodded as he spoke, her brow knotted with worry.
"Come. Let us discuss it inside." Byakuya opened the door and gestured for Grantz-san's family members to proceed him as he entered room 313. Shado Yasutora, the day shift nurse, rose to his feet from the nurse's desk and approached the foursome, bowing deeply. "Mr. and Mrs. Grantz, pleasure to see you again. Jaegerjacques-san, Kuchiki-sensei, welcome back."
Greetings were exchanged, then Chad updated the doctor on Szayel's condition. "There has been no discernible change in Grantz-san's demeanor or physical condition, Sensei," he said. "I can report that he seems to be equalizing as far as his water retention is concerned … the output is dropping and I cut back on the Lasix per your sliding scale order, Sensei. But Fumihara-sensei was in about an hour ago and left his progress note. To summarize, he feels that the pituitary and thyroid hormone levels are responding to treatment, and the labs he had drawn back that up. As you can see, Sensei?" He handed the paper chart to the doctor and watched as he looked over the lab reports. Dr. Fumihara was the endocrinologist in charge of Szayel's case.
Byakuya looked up from the chart. "I concur. It does indeed appear that Fumihara-sensei's surgery and follow-up treatments are having the desired effect. The labs also show that we have been successful in clearing the drugs out of your son's system. I am more optimistic now, based on these findings, about your son's chances for awakening and recovery."
Mrs. Grantz began to cry. Mr. Grantz and Grimmjow patted her on the shoulders, and her husband murmured comforting words. Slowly, she regained control of herself and wiped her eyes on a tissue (handed to her by Chad, nearby and on the alert for just such an occasion). "Thank you, Kuchiki-sensei," she said shakily. "I am very glad to hear that."
Grimmjow Jaegerjacques just stood nearby, a frown on his face. He thought he was holding in his aggression very well, thank you very much … but the observant Chad noted his demeanor, no problem. He watched the blue-haired man, ready to step in if that suppressed anger made him snap and try something foolish. Then again – it could just be stress. He'd keep an eye on the man just in case.
"You are most welcome, Grantz-san," Byakuya said to Mrs. Grantz. "Now then … let me explain the weaning process and let you know what we have done so far, with Jaegerjacques-san's consent." They stood next to Zay's bed as the doctor told them about extubating their son/brother. Since he hadn't been tubed very long, it was thought that he shouldn't need it, and so could do very well with just an oxygen mask instead of being intubated. They had already been slowly decreasing the amount of oxygen he was receiving via the respirator. One negative aspect was that Szayel was not fighting the tube in any way … but that probably just showed the depth of his coma. Only one way to find out.
"… and at that point, with the ventilator disconnected, if he shows no signs of hypoxia, we will pull the tube entirely and put him on oxygen via mask, all the while keeping a watchful eye on his oxygen saturation levels. If he continues to do well as the O2 levels are reduced, we will consider delivering oxygen via nasal cannula – the nasal prongs. Best-case scenario – he will not need oxygen at all, he will have a saturation level of 98-100% on room air … at which point we will take him off the oxygen entirely." Mr. and Mrs. Grantz were hanging on his every word, tears still standing in the woman's eyes. Jaegerjacques-san was staring down at his brother, face expressionless except for the now-familiar frown.
"Do you wish to proceed?" Byakuya asked calmly.
All three nodded as Mr. Grantz said firmly, "yes … please, Kuchiki-sensei. We trust your judgment completely."
Grimmjow fought not to snort out loud. As it was, his frown deepened as he turned his brilliant blue gaze on the serene aspect of the doctor. Who merely looked back at him, then looked down at the patient.
"Yasutora-san, please disconnect the respirator." Chad stepped forward, unhooked the respirator's corrugated tubing from the end of the tube that jutted out from Szayel's lips. The machine began to alarm, and Chad disabled the alarms at a gesture from the doctor. Byakuya and Chad watched the O2 saturation level on the monitor. It began to steadily creep downward from 100% as Szayel's lungs began to work on their own, which they did with little to no fanfare. It was a good sign, and not unexpected from one who had only been in a coma for a short time. His brain stem was not injured, so his autonomic reflexes should continue to perform as they always had.
Mrs. Grantz was crying again, softly, without sound. The O2 sat fell to 88% … steadied … then slowly began creeping back upward. 90%. 92%. 95%. Back down to 93%, then it rose up to 96% and steadied. There was a gasp as Mr. Grantz released his held breath. "This … this is good, yes?" he asked, hope filling his voice. Everyone looked at the doctor.
"Indeed. Yasutora-san, would you please inform RT that we require their presence?" Byakuya's voice was still calm and steady.
Chad had a little smile on his face. "Yes, Sensei," he answered, then whipped a cell phone out of his pocket as he walked a few steps away from the little group at the patient's bedside to place the call to Respiratory Therapy. They could hear him murmur into the phone, "… yes. Room 313 for an extubation … STAT, please … thank you." He disconnected and returned to the bedside, automatically checking the monitor. Holding steady at 94%.
Within moments, a smiling young lady walked through the door. "Good morning, everyone," she said, bowing to the patient's family. "Let's see, what do we have here? Grantz-san feeling a bit better today?"
"Indeed, Hinamori-san," Byakuya replied. "If you would, we would like to extubate the patient. If you would like to scan the readouts for the past twelve hours?"
Momo bowed to the doctor and said, "Oh, that is not necessary, Sensei. I reviewed the labs and the readings about an hour ago." She looked at the respirator's readings, noted it was already disconnected, then scanned Szayel's monitors. "Oh, yes, this is very good. Shall I proceed?"
"Please do," Byakuya murmured.
Momo's outward demeanor changed immediately as she moved into place and began to do her job. She checked Szayel's nail beds and lifted an eyelid to look at his sclera. She removed the stethoscope from around her neck and put the earpieces in, then listened to Szayel's lungs, both lobes, upper, middle, and lower areas. "No crackles or wheezes," she reported. "Suction, please, Shado," she said.
Chad slid the long slender tube into Szayel's endotracheal tube and suctioned him, getting a moderate amount of mucus in return. "Is he a smoker?" Momo asked the family. Mr. and Mrs. Grantz looked at Grimmjow, who nodded curtly.
"Pack a day," he said shortly.
"Normal to get secretions, then," Momo said calmly. Then, with a nod to Byakuya, she took a hypodermic syringe from her pocket, unwrapped it, and attached it to the tiny tubing that led in to the cuff, now currently inflated down inside Szayel's neck. It held the tube in place and sealed it inside the trachea, a soft balloon that caused little-to-no trauma to the vocal cords and other soft tissues. Pulling the plunger back, Momo deflated the cuff and took the suction that Chad handed to her. She suctioned out the patient's mouth and throat, then pulled the tube, standing by with the suction.
Szayel began coughing. Momo held his head steady and suctioned his mouth again, getting the secretions as he coughed them up. "Coughing is an entirely normal occurrence after extubation," she said serenely. "It's a natural reaction to the stimulus of the tube being removed, and is a good sign. If Grantz-san's body continues to automatically clear his natural secretions, that is all for the good." She suctioned him again, then again as he coughed up more mucus. Finally he stilled.
Byakuya had watched the O2 saturation levels through all these ministrations. It dipped down to 86% during the coughing and suctioning, then slowly rose back up to 90%, where it seemed to level off. "Let's start him out on a non-rebreather mask, Hinamori-san … do you agree?"
This was one of the things that made Byakuya Kuchiki one of the most beloved doctors at Karakura Chronic/Acute Care, despite his reticent personality … he had no reservations about giving his colleagues the respect they deserved. Momo almost blushed as she smiled and agreed with his assessment of the patient's condition. (Whenever Momo ran into Dr. Aizen, though, she blushed for real. She held a long-standing crush for the tall doctor. There really is, apparently, no accounting for taste.) Momo opened the drawer on the bedside cabinet and pulled out a wrapped non-rebreather mask, which she unwrapped and applied to Szayel's face, tightening the straps until it fit him perfectly. "I'd say … start him out on 5 liters. Do you agree, Dr. Kuchiki?"
He nodded serenely. Chad adjusted the O2 feed, then readjusted it down … and down … and down per Byakuya's orders as it became apparent that, at the moment, Szayel only needed about 3 liters of oxygen to sustain a 99% O2 saturation. "Very good." Byakuya turned to face the family. "Success," he said, and gave them a rare actual smile, the corners of his mouth turning up visibly.
Mrs. Grantz began crying for real now, as her husband held her and patted her back. He was beaming, tears standing in his own eyes, too.
"Yasutora-san, continue monitoring his saturation levels closely, adjust according to the sliding scale," Byakuya continued, giving Chad orders for the newly-extubated patient.
Grimmjow watched the doctor interact again with his parents – yes, still frowning. Then he looked at Szayel, who looked SO much better without that fucking tube coming out of his mouth.
"P-p-p-p-p-p-p," came from around the screen. Byakuya's head cocked, listening, then he looked at Chad, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes, that is Hirako-san," the nurse said, quietly. "This is the fourth time since I came on shift." Another rare smile from the tall, bronze-skinned nurse.
"I see." He bowed to Szayel's family, told them he was at their service day or night for questions or concerns about Grantz-san, and walked around the tall folding screen to check out the other patient in the room.
…
Grimmjow was steamed. How could he fucking compare to Mr. Miracle-Worker Doctor, the great healer? Dammit, it just made matters worse that he was a totally competent, brilliant, and respected physician. The fucking prick. On top of that, Grimmjow had to admit: he was a good-looking man. Looked like he needed someone to forcibly remove the stick from his ass, definitely, but you couldn't deny that he was a stunner physically. All the more reason to fucking hate him. Because any way you looked at it, he had an uphill battle ahead of him for Ichigo's affections.
1 – He worked with Doctor Fabulous and so would be around him every day. Did that also include locker room time? Fuckin' hell, he bet it did. Shit!
2 – They worked in the same profession, in the healthcare field. That gave them all kinds of things in common that Grimmjow just wouldn't fucking have.
3 – Ichigo's position as nurse put him under Dr. Prick in the hierarchy of the hospital. The doctor was his superior … great, just fucking great. For a person with submissive leanings, that would definitely add something sexy to the mix.
4 – If Ichigo was anything like the rest of the people he saw come into contact with Dr. Arse-Wipe, he probably already had a fucking worshipful crush on the prick. Great. Probably been going on for years. How the fuck was he supposed to fight that?
Any way you added it up, he was going to be working at a severe disadvantage from the get-go. He needed some quiet time to think things through and decide what his game plan was going to be. Hmm. Not now. Later, after his folks went back home (he'd let them take Zay's car and he'd take the train back when he was ready to leave), he'd go up to the roof, smoke, and think it through. For right now, he just patted his brother's hand and smiled up at his folks. Szayel was no longer intubated. It was fuckin' awesome.
XXX
Ichigo woke up, fighting his sheets, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. The nightmare hadn't been a new one, but it still shattered his heart whenever he had one of them. Most especially this one. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. A glance at the alarm clock showed that it was only 5 p.m. He needed to sleep longer. But the nightmare lingered. It was Keigo this time. He winced. Nightmare, indeed.
Keigo Asano was only 19 when he was brought to 3C, having already been in a coma for three years. He was a transfer in from another facility, after his mother was horrified at the fact that she'd turned him one day and discovered that his backside was sporting an open wound – typically referred to as a "bedsore" in layman's terms, a decubitus ulcer in medical parlance. She'd had him moved from the nursing home to 3C two days later.
Once in Ichigo's care, Keigo was healed. His skin lost that papery, thin feel, his hair reacquired its youthful gloss, and he began to put weight back on – good weight, muscle weight. Ichigo cared for Keigo for 7 months, total … before "the incident". He loved him. He had still been feeling the recent loss of Kira, and so tried to hold back, but the small (5'5") boy wormed his way into Ichigo's heart anyway. He loved him.
Keigo had succumbed to coma due to an automobile accident. His girlfriend, Midori Tono, had been driving the vehicle, and she had been texting behind the wheel when she lost control, arrowed across the freeway and across the median into oncoming traffic. T-boned by a ¾ ton maintenance vehicle, Keigo hadn't had a chance. His injuries were extensive, and he never woke up again.
Midori Tono was grief-stricken … but what wasn't readily apparent was the fact that guilt was eating her up inside. The police had checked her phone and discovered that she had, indeed, been texting while behind the wheel – illegal. She was tried and found guilty of vehicular manslaughter, but since she was a minor she was sentenced to only two years in the women's prison at Tochigi. Ichigo was only marginally aware of all this – his focus was on Keigo and his scarily deteriorated state. A nursing home is no place for a person in a coma. He threw himself into caring for the young man, gradually coming to love him with all his heart, caring for him meticulously.
It was late one midnight shift when the door to 313 opened to admit a young woman. She was dressed in black and had a hood pulled low over her eyes. Ichigo went up to her and inquired as to her presence … why was she here?
"I am Midori Tono," she said, and he could only see her chin. "I am here to see Keigo Asano."
Ichigo only barely remembered hearing the name, but he was glad to see a visitor for Keigo. He drew the woman to Keigo's bedside and smiled down at the "sleeping" boy-man. "He sleeps, but we are taking good care of him for when he wakes up," he'd said … and to this day, he wished he'd looked at the young woman's face when he'd said that. But he didn't. He was just smiling down at Keigo. "Enjoy your visit, Tono-san," he'd said … and returned to the nurse's desk.
He couldn't hear what she was saying. All he could make out were murmurs and the sounds of crying. Nothing new on 3C. For months afterward he tortured himself - he should have gone 'round the screen and checked on them. But he didn't. 3C believed in privacy for patients and their family and/or loved ones. It was only when it was time for Keigo's tube feeding that he got up and walked around the screen. His eyes widened as panic exploded inside his chest. Calm! He shouted inside. Don't startle her!
He walked very slowly toward the bed. The knife she held was large and shiny, sharp, glinting in the dim lighting. She was crying silently, holding the knife over Keigo's chest. When Ichigo appeared, she turned her eyes to him. Her face was pale white except in places where the burn scars had left it a livid red. "Do not come any closer, Nurse-san," she said in a hoarse voice.
"Please … please don't … don't hurt him, Tono-san. Please," Ichigo remained rooted in place as the knife tip remained poised over Keigo's heart. His eyes darted here and there, looking for anything anything! That could help.
"Do not move," she said. Tears began to track down from her already-tear-swollen eyes. "You know what happened? You know what I did?" she asked, the hands clenched around the knife hilt scarily steady.
"Yes." Oh god oh god oh god.
"I was texting my friend … I was going to ditch Keigo and go out with her instead. None of them know that. Only me … and now you, Nurse-san. I was going to break up with him … and instead, I made a mistake and we had that wreck … and Keigo ended up like this." She motioned carelessly toward him with the knife. It grazed the sheets, catching in them, and Ichigo took a startled step forward. "I SAID DON'T MOVE!" she shouted.
Please, someone hear that! Ichigo thought, scared to his bones. Not for himself … for his beloved. "Please … I can help. Put down the knife, and we'll get a cup of coffee and talk about it. Please, let me help you."
"No," she whispered. "There's only one thing that can help me. My grief. My guilt. My … hatred. They eat me up inside. In prison, out of prison … my prison is inside me." She sobbed. "It wasn't my fault! I told him I didn't want him to go with me! I had told him it was over!" She was shouting louder now. "But he insisted! We can work it out, he said! I love you, he said!" Her face twisted.
She's … she's insane, Ichigo thought. I'm going to have to jump her, something! I have to get that knife away from—
As the words were going through his head, Midori Tono raised the knife and plunged it into Keigo's body, grunting as she pushed it deeper between his ribs on the left side of his chest, until the hilt hit bone. Ichigo screamed and leapt at her, using his right fist he hit her in the face as hard as he could, knocking her across the room, she slammed into the nurse's desk and went still.
Ichigo stared aghast at the knife protruding from Keigo's chest. Blood welled up around it, then the alarms started blaring. Ichigo was unaware that he was still screaming, an anguished "no no no!" that wouldn't stop. Ishida slammed the door open, saw the girl on the floor and yelled, "Ichigo? Ichigo!" He knelt to check the young woman's condition. Alive, just out.
Ichigo was standing at Keigo's bedside, knowing that it was futile, there was no way you were going to save someone who had been stabbed in the heart. Heart's blood had pooled around the knife and soaked Keigo's gown, but that … that meant nothing. Keigo's heart no longer beat. The alarms sounded. So Ichigo Kurosaki was doing his job: he was ushering his beloved into the next world.
"I love you, Keigo," he said, kissing him and stroking his face. "Go with love and joy into the arms of your ancestors. I am so sorry I did not protect you. I love you." Tears poured in two steady streams down his cheeks. Sobs ripped out of his chest. It hurt. It hurt so bad. "Keigo."
Ishida didn't hear the words … but he didn't need to. He could see with his own eyes, too, when he ran around the screen … and being a nurse, he also knew. The monitor showed a steady flat line, even as the respirator continued to make Keigo's chest rise and fall while the alarms wailed. When someone – especially someone in an already-debilitated state – is stabbed in the heart, there is nothing you can do.
...
Ichigo had required counseling after that incident. His guilt had begun to eat him up as well, for not protecting Keigo from his insane ex-girlfriend. A patient had been murdered while under his care, but the inquiry had found him completely blameless. He'd complied with the hospital's visitor and privacy policies … and he'd tried to stop the assault as soon as it was safe to do so … even though it had been too late. He didn't feel blameless. His confused feelings had left him wondering if he should quit nursing … but it had been Renji Abari who had helped him the most. Through the rages, the drunken tears, the soul-searching … Renji was steadfast in his friendship and his complete and utter faith in Ichigo's destiny as a nurse on 3C. Without Renji, Ichigo had no idea where he'd've ended up.
Midori Tono had returned to prison … where she had killed herself by biting off her tongue.
…
Ichigo shook his head and finished the glass of water. He really needed to get back to sleep. 'Morning' would come early, his alarm was due to go off in about four hours. He padded back to bed, got in, and covered himself with the sheet. Turning to lay on his left side, he said goodnight to all his beloveds … and sent yet another silent apology to Keigo Asano, along with his undying love.
XXX
End Chapter 8
Yeah … I know not a lot "happened" in this one, but I think - sometimes the feelings need to be advanced more than the plot does.
Thank you for reading! More updating soon ….
Ahvienda