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He wasn’t getting sick. He wasn’t.
Ulquiorra sneezed. There was snot on his sleeve. Fuck...
Shūhei leaned over. “You look like hell, Ulqu. Come here, let me touch your forehead.”
Ulquiorra shied away. “Don’t touch me.” He turned around right into Kiyone’s wrist and partial forearm.
“Shit, you’re burning up, Boss!” Kiyone shook her hand out.
Shūhei crossed his arms. “You know you can’t work around food if you’re sick.”
Ulquiorra knew. “It came on suddenly.” Well. Not so suddenly. He’d felt tired that morning while doing yoga. And his throat had been achy the night before.
“Mhm. Come on, let’s get you up to bed.” Shūhei tugged him toward the backdoor. “Orihime, remake Ulquiorra’s dough.”
“Of course. Feel better, Chef.” Orihime waved her hand.
There was a chorus of similar responses while Shūhei pushed Ulquiorra outside. A summer cold was one of the worst things anyone could experience. Even worse was Shūhei leading Ulquiorra upstairs with promises of soup and rest. Ulquiorra owned a restaurant. He didn’t have time to rest!
Shūhei pushed him inside the apartment and helped him take off his coat and shoes. Then Shūhei bullied Ulquiorra into the bedroom. Ulquiorra unzipped his slacks and frowned when Shūhei pulled back the covers for him.
“I’m not an invalid. My head just hurts.” And his back. And his hips. Everything, really. There was also the mucous dribbling down his nose. Uhg.
“Mhm.” Shūhei nodded and draped the blanket over Ulquiorra before he disappeared into the living room.
Ulquiorra heard rustling in the kitchen, and Shūhei came back with a cup of tea. “I’ll text Grimm. Get some rest. I’ve got the helm, chef.”
Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, but he knew it was true. He’d made Shūhei his sous chef for a reason. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Text me if you need anything.” Shūhei left the bedroom door cracked. The front door closed a few seconds later.
Ulquiorra sipped his tea. He’d always hated being sick. The aches, the pain. The feeling like he was useless. How heavy his limbs became from fatigue. He put his tea on the nightstand and tried to focus on sleep. His mind began to drift. He’d feel better if his head stopped throbbing.
The door creaked.
A weight against his feet. Then up to his legs. On his stomach. He opened his eyes to see Murcielago and Pantera curled against him. Grimmjow stood in the doorway, pulling on a face mask.
I must have gone to sleep. He didn’t remember that. Strange. His head still throbbed.
Grimmjow called, “Hey, princess. How you feelin’?”
Ulquiorra groaned.
“That bad, huh?” Grimmjow crossed the room to feel Ulquiorra’s forehead. He sucked his teeth and went into the bathroom. He came back out with the thermometer. Ulquiorra grumbled but opened his mouth. They stood there in silence, waiting, until it beeped. Grimmjow pulled it out. “Well, your fever’s not too high, but gonna have to keep an eye on it.”
Grimmjow left again and returned with cold medicine.
“You’re being nice,” Ulquiorra muttered while Grimmjow fluffed his pillows.
Grimmjow snorted. “I took care of you when you had two broken arms. A cold is easy. Gonna go make some soup.”
Ulquiorra huffed, but it tapered into a cough. His throat hurt. The world spun. Colors meant nothing. The cats purred against him. Too hot. Too cold. His bones ached. Why did he even have bones?
Grimmjow came in with soup. Chicken noodle with chunks of vegetables. He helped Ulquiorra sit up, banished the cats, and spoon fed him. Ulquiorra thought that humiliation was over with, but… it wasn’t so bad. To be cared for.
To be loved, he reminded himself. Grimmjow had gone to far worse lengths when both of Ulquiorra’s arms were broken.
Ulquiorra grunted, “I feel disgusting.” There was sweat drying against his temples and in between his thighs.
Grimmjow sat the bowl on the nightstand. “Let’s get you in the bath. I’ll change the sheets.”
Ulquiorra followed Grimmjow into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. Grimmjow tugged off Ulquiorra’s socks and underwear while the tub filled. Grimmjow added some salt to the water for Ulquiorra’s sore muscles.
“Nel says this stuff works great.” Grimmjow held Ulquiorra’s hand and helped him over the side.
The water did feel good. Not too hot, not too cold. Ulquiorra sank into it while Grimmjow went to change the sheets. He came back a few minutes later to shampoo Ulquiorra’s hair. And wash his back. His underarms. Everything.
Ulquiorra was too tired to argue, or even do it himself. And it did feel kind of nice to have Grimmjow scrub his back.
Ulquiorra whined, “Why do I even have bones?”
Grimmjow snorted and tried to hide his laugh. “You need your bones, Ulquiorra. They make your blood.” He helped Ulquiorra stand and dried him off. “Tossed your robe in the drier for a few minutes.” And then he helped Ulquiorra into the same robe.
Warm. Soft. His bones approved. Ulquiorra sighed and nuzzled into the robe’s collar and followed Grimmjow into the living room. He settled in on the sofa while Grimmjow fetched the hairdryer. That was warm, too, and Grimmjow set it to low so the noise didn’t bother Ulquiorra’s sore ears.
Ulquiorra watched wisps of hair blowing at his periphery. It was getting longer now. He’d need to trim the dead ends. Maybe have Yumichika style it a little.
Grimmjow braided it and pinned it to the back of Ulquiorra’s neck. “Want some more soup?”
Ulquiorra nodded. He took the bowl himself this time and sipped from it. Spoons were too complicated anyway. Like bones.
When he finished, Grimmjow helped him back to bed. There was some foul tasting sleep medicine, and then warm sheets over his cold legs. His head hit the pillow, and he was out.
~*~
Ulquiorra woke up with a clearer head in the morning. He left the bedroom to find Grimmjow snoring on the sofa. The cats were piled on his back, and his face was turned against the back of the sofa. He snored like a freight train, and his feet hung off the arm of the sofa.
“Ridiculous creature.” Ulquiorra sighed and traced his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair. “Te amo, mi pantero.”
Ulquiorra headed into the kitchen and decided he’d make crepes for breakfast with lots of fresh strawberries. Grimmjow deserved something sweet.