Chapter Text
Renji wakes up to Byakuya's hair tickling his face, Byakuya's warm slim body curled into the crook of his shoulder, and even though it's amazing and adorable and makes those strange things happen in his chest that he doesn't want to try to put words to, just yet, the first thing he does is sneeze with enough force to yank the covers off Byakuya.
Byakuya shifts, blinks and then is suddenly sitting up and pushing his hair behind one ear in one of his half-second asleep-to-awake transitions that Renji is sure must be some sort of magic. He takes the covers back and looks down at Renji, frowning a little.
Renji sniffs, wondering if there's tissues anywhere, and quickly discovers that he can't breathe through his nose. And it hurts if he tries. Great. "Uh. Morning?" He offers, and the words scratch unpleasantly against his throat. He swallows, preparing to try again, but it hurts to swallow, so instead he flops down into the pillow with a groan, and attempts to tug Byakuya back under the covers.
"Renji. You're not well," Byakuya says, not giving in to his attempted cuddle.
"Mmmph," Renji says into his pillow. "Maybe."
Byakuya nods decisively once, seemingly to himself, then gets out of bed and slings a sleeping robe across his shoulders. Renji makes another unheeded noise of protest, because without Byakuya next to him he's suddenly cold.
"Stay there, Renji," he instructs firmly, and pads off somewhere. Renji curls up miserably, sneezes three times in a row and then has a short coughing fit. He supposes this means that following Byakuya and attempting to persuade him back to bed (which never works) or into a private breakfast in the bedroom where Renji can lay his head on Byakuya's shoulder while he tries to wake up (which sometimes works) is off the menu.
This is not how he wanted to spend his weekend. Last weekend he and Byakuya were both working, the weekend before Renji was attempting to catch up on social engagements with everyone who'd been complaining that they never see him anymore these days, and the weekend before that Byakuya had been caught up going to some family official dinner and doing piles of whatever paperwork a clan head has to do. And now Byakuya's probably going to send him home - probably with tea and a servant to help and maybe some food, but that's not really the point.
So when he looks up at Byakuya, holding a tray covered with tea and steaming bowls of soup, it takes him an embarrassingly long time to figure out what's happening, and he's most of the way to seated before he realises he might not have to get up. He flops down again.
Byakuya puts down he tray on the beside table. "Sit up, Renji," he admonishes, and props some pillows behind him. "Otherwise your tea will go down the wrong way."
Then, he sheds his slippers, and gets back into bed.
"We're...breakfast in bed?" Renji says, confused and rasping, but fortunately his body has enough muscle memory to accept the cup of tea Byakuya thrusts at him.
"You hardly look capable of sitting unassisted," Byakuya says, impatiently. "Drink your tea; it'll help."
It's lemon and ginger and honey, soothing his throat and sending warmth all the way to his toes - or maybe it's Byakuya's presence that's warming him up. He drinks a few sips of tea before it is removed from him and replaced with a steaming bowl of red miso soup, and he drinks that too under Byakuya's watch.
He's honestly not sure if it's sweet or a bit disconcerting.
Eventually, as Renji finishes his soup and is given back the tea, Byakuya tackles his own breakfast distractedly. Halfway through he frowns and puts it down. "Your hair needs tying back; it keeps nearly going in your tea."
"Uh," Renji says, finding that Byakuya's right, which is pretty unusual because usually he braids his hair for sleep. But then he was - otherwise occupied, last night.
"Renji,"
"Sorry," Renji says, smiling sheepishly. "Guess I'm not really with it, huh?"
"No," Byakuya agrees. "In which case, I will do it."
Huh? Renji has completely forgotten what the last topic of conversation is - it was way less interesting than his memories of last night, anyway. "Do what?"
The smallest of eyerolls. "Your hair, Renji. Give your tea here," he holds out his hand. "And turn this way." Then, he pulls Renji's hair behind his shoulders and begins to comb his fingers ever so gently through it.
Okay, definitely sweet. He sighs as Byakuya's cool fingers stroke along his scalp, easing a headache he hadn't exactly been aware of. It's a shame when Byakuya declares that he's done, and Renji finds his hair neatly braided, much more than he ever manages himself.
"Thanks," he says, yawning. "I mean - for breakfast and everything."
Byakuya hums acknowledgement, and even though he's finished with breakfast, he's not getting out of bed. Renji seizes his chance, relaxes onto Byakuya's shoulder and slings one arm across his ribs.
"I can see that I'm not going anywhere," Byakuya observes, and maybe he's slightly miffed, or maybe that's affection Renji can hear. He's sleepy again, and with the stuffiness in his nose easing off, there's nothing to keep him awake.
"Mmmmngood," Renji says into Byakuya's shoulder.
Just as he falls asleep again, there's a brush of something against his forehead, and though he's probably still going to feel terrible when he wakes up again, he gets the feeling that at least Byakuya will still be there.
Which means that maybe his weekend is...salvageable. Okay. Better than okay, even.