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The itching had been the worst of it. Even now it woke him up from a dead sleep. Shūhei shifted, tried to find some relief. His leg jerked, and he caught something soft. A little yip.
Shūhei sat up and watched Wabisuke roll off the bed and waddle out of the bedroom. Well, that was going to be an issue later. Wabisuke had just forgiven him for his last crime; forgetting dinner for three whole minutes.
“Sorry, boy.”
Izuru rolled over. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Didn’t mean to kick him. My leg’s just itching like crazy.” Shūhei pushed the covers aside and frowned at the cast.
Izuru sat up and looked at his phone. “At least it comes off today.”
Shūhei considered what he could stick between the cast to scratch. Izuru confiscated almost everything long enough. Dinner was fun. Shūhei had to beg for chopsticks and promise to only use them for food.
“Yeah. Think I’ve almost lost my mind.”
“Almost?” Izuru arched a brow. He eased out of bed and stretched. “If you’ve almost lost your mind, then I must have completely lost mine.”
Shūhei gave him a sideways look. It wasn’t his fault some fuck loosened the wheel of his motorcycle. And it wasn’t his fault he was a bad patient. Shūhei never did well with too much free time. Made him antsy. Ulquiorra understood. They were cut from the same kind of cloth.
Not that Ulquiorra was doing much better with two busted arms. At least Shūhei could feed himself.
“Sorry, babe.”
Izuru turned. His lashes dipped, and he knelt on the bed. He caught Shūhei by the chin.
“I’m teasing, Shu. I’d rather be able to take care of you than…” Izuru’s eyes closed.
Shūhei took Izuru’s hand to hold. He remembered the way Izuru looked in the hospital. Eyes bloodshot, hands bandaged. How Izuru threw himself into Shūhei’s arms. The way he sobbed.
Shūhei kissed Izuru’s fingers. “Love you.”
Izuru’s eyes opened, and his lips twitched. “I love you, too.” He leaned back to stand. “You want breakfast before we go to the hospital?”
“Yeah.” Shūhei swung his feet to the floor and stood up.
There was a crash from the living room. Izuru tugged a shirt over his head and went to investigate. Shūhei went for a piss.
“Kazeshini or Haineko?” Shūhei called.
“Both.”
Rangiku always left Haineko with them when she was out of the country. It was fine, mostly. She got along well with Wabisuke, but Kazeshini. The two of them bonded in the worst way.
Shūhei thought he was getting a cat. Y’know, something soft and snuggly. A little purr machine that sat nice in his lap while he typed up his blog posts. Not a whirling black hurricane that trashed his stuff and shit in his shoes. Oh, and deleted his blog. Twice!
He limped into the living room at the same time Kazeshini zipped by. “Gonna trade your ass in for a plushie.”
Kazeshini raced up the cat tree and hissed at Shūhei. Definitely a plushie.
“Do you want anything in your omelet, Shu?” Izuru padded into the kitchen.
Shūhei considered Izuru’s figure. Pretty sure the shirt was Ran’s, but the shorts were Shūhei’s. Always made him smile to imagine his clothes on Izuru. Even better to imagine stripping them off.
Izuru threw a rag at him. “Pervert.”
Shūhei caught the rag and smiled. Izuru was easy to fluster. Had been from the moment Shūhei started flirting.
“Bacon and some spinach sounds good.” Shūhei washed his hands and opened the cabinet for his cutting board.
Izuru laid his hand over Shūhei’s. His fingers tightened around Shūhei’s wrist.
“You can help me prep in a few hours. What do you have against me taking care of you? Not like I’m going to spoil you like this any time soon.” Izuru took the cutting board and laid it by the stove.
Shūhei’s shoulders slumped. “Hardly call this spoiling. You’re boring me to death, babe.”
“No one’s ever died of boredom, Shūhei.” Izuru gave him a sour look.
Shūhei groaned and propped himself on the counter by the sink. “I could be the first, Izuru. You guys don’t even let me smoke!” The withdrawal had been a second layer of hell.
“Because it hampers healing.” Izuru opened the fridge for spinach.
Shūhei eyed Izuru’s ass. And that was the third layer. It was his leg that was broken, not his dick, but neither Ran or Izuru let him have any. Seemed a shame.
“Please? I’ll sit in a chair and chop veg, babe. Please.”
Izuru rolled his eyes and carried the spinach to the sink to rinse. “Bother someone else, Shu.”
Tch, like he was swimming in choices. “I can’t. Renji’s still recovering from his last surgery, the prep cooks are probably murdering each other, and Ulquiorra’s arms are still broke.” He wasn’t sure where Chad was, or what Momo and Hanataro were up to.
Izuru shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You have such a small pool of friends. I feel for you, love, I really do.” He placed the spinach on the board and began to chop then tossed it into the pan.
“Woe is me.” Shūhei leaned over the counter to rest his head on Izuru’s arm. He waited for Izuru to put the knife aside. And then he got a handful of ass.
Izuru jumped and shot him a frown. “I think I’m the one suffering now.”
Shūhei smiled. “What? I have so few joys in my life, and you’ve taken two of them, babe.”
Izuru rolled his eyes and tossed the bacon into the pan. “You act like we’ve had you neutered.”
“Didn’t you?” Shūhei eased off the counter to sit at the kitchen table.
“I could ask the doctor. Maybe you’d benefit from a reduced sex drive.” Izuru added the eggs to the pan.
Shūhei hummed. “You’d miss it. Miss when I kiss behind your ear. How I touch up your thighs.”
It was a cheap move, but hey, Shūhei was horny. He’d been horny once the pain subsided. And the worry. And… fuck. It didn’t feel like six weeks. Felt like six years. He rested his head in his hands. Fuck.
Izuru sat the plate down in front of him and kissed his jaw. “Hey, it’s alright.”
Shūhei lowered his hands and looked up at Izuru. Sweet, sweet Izuru. Shūhei didn’t deserve him. No one did.
He and Ran had both been there, caring for him. Dealing with the nightmares. With the stress. The anger. Shūhei couldn’t go save Ulquiorra. Couldn’t even help. Izuru weathered that rage. That pain. Rangiku kept them updated. Even drove them to the hospital.
Shūhei had never lost anyone in his life. Not… not to violence. His grandmother died when he was young, but that had been peaceful. Old age, not a knife to the chest. Not a split gut. He didn’t have to stand at her bedside, watching her vitals fall. Didn’t have to cry her name and beg her to come back.
Izuru rubbed his thumb under Shūhei’s cheek. Leaned in to kiss him again.
But they lived, didn’t they? Renji and Ulquiorra and all of them. They survived. And Shūhei remained. He’d get back on his feet. He’d come through. Had come through. He was at the end of it now.
He picked up his fork and cut a wedge of his omelet. Izuru smiled and turned back to the stove to make his own. Shūhei put the first bite in his mouth, chewed, and smiled.
They’d survived, and now they’d live.
~*~
“Stop scratching.”
Shūhei made eye contact before he scratched his shin again. They’d been home maybe all of five minutes when Shūhei dropped onto the sofa and dug at his leg. The relief was instant, albeit gross with how much dead skin came away.
“Fuuuck, that feels amazing.”
Izuru ignored him while he read over the care paperwork. “Don’t overdo it and hurt yourself, okay?You have to build the strength back up in your leg. We did some exercises, but I’m worried about muscle atrophy.”
“I won’t overdo it, babe.” Or, he’d try. His eyes wandered toward the kitchen. “Think I can make dinner tonight?”
“We’ll see after we stretch your leg a little. The walk home wasn’t enough.” Izuru knelt and took Shūhei’s leg in his hand. “Tell me if anything hurts.” He started to work Shūhei’s foot back and forth.
The stiffness in his calf was instant. Every flex felt like he was fighting against cement. It ached, and he could see a new morning routine in his future for a while. Maybe he’d ask Ulquiorra for Grimmjow’s cousin’s number. Wasn’t she a PT?
“Your leg’s stiff,” Izuru muttered and massaged the calf. His hands drifted higher, up Shūhei’s thigh.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” Izuru’s hands withdrew.
“S’fine. Just sore. Prolly from carryin’ my weight.” Shūhei smiled.
Izuru glanced at him. His lashes lowered, and his hands returned to Shūhei’s leg. The massage was a little softer now. Izuru’s lips drew into a tight line, his jaw tense. Shūhei chewed his cheek.
He remembered Izuru’s face when the doctor let him in. How they flickered over Shūhei, still red from crying. The fear, the uncertainty. The way his voice shook when he told Shūhei about Renji. The hours of surgery to put Renji back together.
All of them could have died.
But we beat that fucker.
“Hey.” Shūhei ran his hand through Izuru’s hair. “We’re okay now.”
Little comfort as it was. Trauma didn’t just fade like that. It took time. Years. Maybe never.
Izuru looked up at him, and for a moment, Shūhei feared that Izuru was one of the kinds who never let it go. Then Izuru turned into the affection and squeezed Shūhei’s ankle.
“We… we are.” Izuru nodded. “All of us. It’s like kintsugi practice.”
Shūhei chuckled. “Going to mend me back together with some gold, babe?”
Izuru blushed. “You’d look pretty in gold.”
“Come here.” Shūhei patted the spot beside him.
Izuru stood up and crawled onto the sofa beside Shūhei. Shūhei took hold of Izuru’s chin, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Izuru’s mouth. Izuru sighed a little laugh before clambering into Shūhei’s lap. Bold. He usually waited until Shūhei yanked him there.
Shūhei kissed him again and ran his fingers through Izuru’s hair, taking pleasure in messing it up. He broke the kiss to look at Izuru’s eyes.
He was lucky to have Izuru. Even Rangiku. They’d have to call her later.
“Hey,” Shūhei nosed Izuru’s jaw. “Guess what I just realized?”
Izuru sighed and slid his arms around Shūhei’s shoulders. “What?”
“I can take a shower without a trash bag on my leg,” he pressed his grin to Izuru’s neck.
Izuru snorted, and his shoulders shook. “Shower sex isn’t safe.”
Shūhei smiled even wider. It was good to see Izuru’s mind went exactly to the gutter.
Shūhei stood up and tugged Izuru by the hand. “I missed seeing you wet and naked. Covered in soap.”
Izuru hid his face with his free hand. “Can you please stop talking?”
“Only if you kiss me.” There was so much more interesting things Shūhei could do with his mouth than talk. Didn’t Izuru know that?
Izuru sighed, still red, but leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’ll give you ten minutes. No more, no less. I’m hungry, and you promised dinner.”
Shūhei grinned. Ten minutes was good enough. He tugged Izuru down the hall to the bathroom. His recovery would go much faster now.