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A loud sneeze cuts through the silence, followed by a wet sniffle. Ichigo groans and buries his head further under his layers of blankets, willing his headache to go away. Tight pressure throbs behind his eyes, spiking when he sneezes or moves too quickly. Savior of the three worlds, brought down by a cold. Ironic.
He pulls back his layer of blankets to reach for his phone. It was already at its lowest setting, but shit, does it hurt his eyes. The home screen shows three new messages. Barely squinting one eye open to look at the screen, Ichigo unlocks his phone. One message is from Yuzu from earlier in the evening, letting him know they landed, to take his meds, and that there was soup in the fridge.
The message ends with a small bear emoji, tugging one side of Ichigo’s mouth into a small grin. A small tickle in his nose is all the warning he has before he sneezes again. The pain behind his eyes flares up.
Groaning, Ichigo reaches out again, searching for the box of tissues he keeps around. It was full when Yuzu gave it to him before they left the house that morning, but now it's only half full. He blows his nose, making a disgusted sound at what he sees in the tissue before crumpling it up and dropping it in the waste bin next to his bed.
The other two messages are from Urahara, saved in his phone as Geta-boshi. It's what he's expecting, telling him that he was missed at their weekly drinking night and that there were shenanigans to be had. Apparently they played strip poker and Grimmjow actually participated...
His brow twitches, just a little. Although, the thought of Grimmjow without his jumpsuit is tempting... No! Bad Ichigo, bad! Grimmjow is his totally platonic sparring partner! …Yeah. Maybe one day he will convince himself.
He pops his head out again in the chill air to search for his medication. The only light in his room is coming from the Christmas decorations outside his window.
It’s currently the middle of December, and the season is in full swing. Snow is officially on the ground and still coming. His sisters and father are out of town while he is home alone, sick. Admittedly, he likes having the house to himself when he’s feeling this way. Even Kon went along for the ride, although he did complain about having to stay in the carry-on.
He spots his nighttime cold medicine and quickly downs it, making a face at the flavor. He chugs some water after it and curls back up under his blanket pile. Ugh. He feels like complete and utter ass. He knows he should have some chicken noodle soup, but he doesn't quite have an appetite. Eating anything right now would be questionable to say the least.
His eyes are just drifting shut when the lights outside are blocked out by a sudden shadow. He looks up to see Grimmjow outside his window in all his glory. His eyes are dark and his hair has a golden hue from all the Christmas cheer outside. His hair and jacket are getting tousled by the slight winter breeze.
His mouth falls open and his throat goes dry. Just seeing Grimmjow has this effect on him. How pathetic. Grimmjow leans over and slides open the window. He leans in a little, head-first and just looks around the room before his eyes meet Ichigo’s.
He proceeds to step over the threshold onto Ichigo’s bed. “Yo, Kurosaki,” he starts. “You missed drinking last night. Cat-bitch tried to hump Tessai.” He cackles at this.
He flops onto the mattress by his feet, gaze fixed directly on his face. Grimmjow squints a little, his dumb (totally not cute) blue brows furrowing. “You look like shit.”
“Yes, thank you for noticing,” Ichigo mutters back, throat scratchy and voice thick. He immediately goes into a coughing fit. Grimmjow looks startled, bright blue eyes flitting from Ichigo’s red face to the hands clutching his chest. Eventually, the fit stops, and Ichigo drinks more water.
“You dyin’?” he asks with a little crease in his brow. His eyes shine with something like concern. Nah, that can't be it. He’s probably just having a fever dream. That has to be the explanation, there is no way Grimmjow is… worried. For him. Nah.
“I don’t think so, but I sure as fuck feel like it,” Ichigo croaks out. “It’s just the flu, I should be better in a few more days. Probably.” He curls back under his blankets until only the top of his bright orange head is showing. He’s so cold, why can’t he just not be cold? He starts shivering again, the vibrations shaking the bed.
Then Grimmjow does something strange. He kneels by the bed, gets right up in his face and… touches his forehead with the back of his hand. “Fuck, you're hot.”
Now, under normal circumstances, if Grimmjow had said that to him his face would have burst into flames. As it was, his face was already flushed and he knew he was burning up with fever.
"Yeah," he mumbles. "I feel cold though." Grimmjow pulls his hand back, and Ichigo uses that as an opportunity to burrow back into his blankets to keep the chill out, covering half of his face.
Grimmjow has that worried look on his face again and then a look of determination, his brows furrowing and eyes sharp. "Move over," he demands.
What? Did he hear that right? "I'm sorry, what?" Ichigo sputters.
"Move over, fuckhead," Grimmjow growls out, chucking his boots off and removing his belts. Ichigo does as he's asked, albeit very slowly, almost like he's in a daze.
Grimmjow lifts the pile of blankets and moves in the vacated spot. He throws his arms around Ichigo's torso and pulls him close, placing his chin on top of Ichigo's head.
Ichigo is frozen in his place. He has no idea what to do. Should he push him away? He should, but that's the opposite of what he wants. He actually wants to cuddle closer to the warmth his body is giving off.
So he does.
He curls up closer and pushes his face into Grimmjow's neck. Sweet, sweet warmth. If he was a cat, he'd purr.
He feels a chuckle rumble through the chest he's leaning against. Oh, he said that out loud. Oops. Damn meds. Grimmjow pulls back a little to take a glance at his face. "You're high as a kite," he grumbles, amused. His eyes are laughing at him.
Ichigo hides his face back into his neck in retaliation. His space heater vibrates again in silent laughter, at his expense of course. He can't find it in himself to mind. He hums a little and closes his eyes. Ignoring his stuffy nose and congested sinuses, he's very comfortable right now.
Grimmjow adjusts a little and wraps his arms more tightly around him. He feels himself start to drift again, and he lets himself fall.
He wakes about two hours later in the same position he fell asleep in. His headache has gotten a little better and he doesn't feel like he's breathing through a straw anymore.
He notices belatedly that he is still laying up against a very warm, very cozy arrancar. He pulls his face back to get a good look at Grimmjow.
"Welcome back," Grimmjow says with a grin on his face. "Feeling any better?"
Ichigo thinks about it for a second. "Surprisingly, yes," he responds. Before he can say anything else, his stomach growls. He hears Grimmjow chuckling again and man, he could really get addicted to that sound.
"When's the last time you ate anything, Kurosaki?" Grimm asks while he starts sitting up.
"Mmm, probably this morning." He gets a stern look and a quirked eyebrow and then he's being hauled into Grimmjow's arms, blankets and all. He squawks, "Put me down!"
"Quit yer yappin', stupid and sick humans need food, asshole." Grimmjow just tightens his hold on Ichigo and continues his trek down the stairs.
He places him (gently, he's being gentle! he screams in his mind) onto the couch in the living room and heads into the kitchen. "Got any food in here?"
"Yuzu said there's leftover soup," he replies while wrapping himself back into his cocoon. He's still grumbling to himself about being manhandled when Grimmjow comes back with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of ice water.
"Eat," he says sternly, handing him the bowl.
Ichigo takes the bowl wordlessly, cradling it in his hands. It's nice and warm and he just holds it for a minute before taking the proffered spoon and slowly digging in. Even with his muted sense of smell and taste, it's still delicious like all of Yuzu's cooking.
"If you want any, feel free to have some," Ichigo says around a mouthful of soup.
"'m fine, just eat." Grimmjow eyes him while he eats, making certain he finishes every last bite.
Once he's done, Grimmjow takes the bowl and places it on the floor for the time being. They sit in silence for a few moments, just relaxing and enjoying the other's presence.
He doesn't know if it's the medication, the setting, the time of year, or just the complete softness that Grimmjow has shown him, but it loosens his tongue.
"Ya know, I did miss you last night." Grimmjow's head snaps towards him so fast, he's surprised it doesn't fall off. He keeps talking. "Trust me, I would've rather been with you instead of being here, alone and sick." He chuckles a bit and then coughs. "Thanks for coming, Grimmjow. I really appreciate it." He smiles an admittedly dorky smile at Grimmjow, but it's the warmest thing the arrancar has ever seen.
Grimmjow looks away with the slightest blush on his face. "Tch, only I'm allowed to kill you, not some stupid flu," he grumbles halfheartedly.
"Of course." He still has that stupid smile on his face, he knows. But he can't help it. Grimmjow, his actually-not-platonic crush, actually came over to take care of him while he's sick. Unexpected is an understatement. Unexpected, but appreciated.
He initiates the cuddles this time, and Grimmjow allows it. Grimm adjusts them so that he's laying between his legs, torso to torso and Grimmjow has his arms wrapped around his back tightly.
Ichigo wraps the blankets around them fully and snuggles as close as physically possible. He's warm, full, and loopy as shit. So it can't be helped that he leans up and places a gentle kiss on Grimmjow's lips. Not at all. He feels Grimmjow stiffen, and then he's kissing back.
It's a gentle, slow kiss. They just press their lips together languidly, only moving slightly. Ichigo pulls back with a blush on his cheeks not entirely due to the fever and says, "Thanks again."
Grimmjow just mumbles, "Idiot," and kisses him again. Eventually they fall asleep in each other's arms, the soft glow of the Christmas tree and lights outside the only illumination.