Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo/Ishida Uryū
Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Tite Kubo. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta Reader: Many thanks to Furiosity for her thorough beta reading. Under her invaluable direction, I rewrote and edited this story multiple times. All mistakes that remain are my own.
Notes: Title inspired by the song of the same name by Blue Oyster Cult. Follows canon up to Chapter 354, but will likely be rendered AU once the storyline returns to the adventures in Las Noches. Written for Purkledragon on a meme, where she requested "Bleach, post-fight romance."

...

"I'm gonna kill you, four-eyes! You're gonna be an ugly red smear on the back of my hand in just a minute!" Yammy laughs as the shockwaves from his fist send Uryū into a pillar. "Your tricks won't work on me now!"

Pain explodes through Uryū's body, and his barely healed stomach wound opens again. Fresh blood adds to the stains on his clothing. He struggles upward through the rubble, gasping for breath. His new left hand is too weak to support him, so he pushes himself up with the right.

Yammy towers above him, chuckling. Uryū has only a moment to wonder what happened to Kurosaki and the others before Yammy notices him. Yammy grins and reaches towards him, palm out. Uryū struggles upward, expecting to be crushed, when a black figure flashes towards Yammy. Uryū stands, only to fall to his knees under an immense spiritual pressure.

Kurosaki's Hollow.

Terrible howls make Uryū's eardrums ache. The sound is like a childhood nightmare remembered, and Uryū feels like a small boy left alone in the dark before it. The creature that was once Kurosaki launches a cero, the red light so bright that Uryū's eyes sting and he shuts his eyes before seeing it hit. Yammy's roars of pain tell him all he needs to know. Fear spikes into Uryū's heart. He wonders what led to Kurosaki's latest transformation and prays that Inoue-san was not hurt.

A looming shadow jars Uryū into action. He leaps to the right just as Yammy's foot crashes down. Dark blood sprays into the air, but Uryū cannot tell whose it is. He summons up Hirenkyaku once again and flies through the dust. The seemingly infinite reiatsu surrounding him grows thicker, and he struggles for breath. He feels as if he is deep underwater in an ocean of raw power.

Black flashes into the corner of his eye, and he catches a glimpse of a shaky-looking Kuchiki-san trying to stand, her white zanpakutō still in her hand. The ground shakes, and she staggers as Yammy lumbers through the dust. She collapses and does not get back up.

"You scum don't get it, do you? You might as well give up," Yammy roars, half his face covered in blood. "I am going to destroy you all! That's what I exist to do! I'll grind your bones to dust!" He swings his fists, but Kurosaki's furious sword swings drive him in the direction of Kuchiki-san.

"Kurosaki! What are you doing?" Uryū flies faster and fires Licht Regen at Yammy. It barely leaves a mark. "Kurosaki, you're driving him the wrong way!"

Kurosaki's grinning mask does not turn to Uryū as he hacks and slashes, driving Yammy further back. Yammy looms over Kuchiki-san, his shadow engulfing her small form. She does not stir, even when small pieces of rubble tumble onto her.

"Kurosaki!" Uryū screams. His second Licht Regen is weaker than the first. His stomach burns with pain, but still he flies forward, knowing that people will die if he does not. "Kurosaki, stop this! You're going to kill Kuchiki-san!"

But Kurosaki does not listen. His attacks continue to drive Yammy back towards Kuchiki-san.

"Kurosaki!" Pain weakens him, and warm blood trickles down Uryū's belly. Hirenkyaku falters beneath his feet, but he uses the last of his strength to drag Kuchiki-san clear of Yammy's foot. He tumbles to the ground with Kuchiki-san, powerless, gasping for air. His eyes water from pain, and he glances up at the approaching Yammy, frozen by his own weakness.

"Kurosaki!" Uryū closes his eyes and waits to die. "It wasn't supposed to end this way, Kurosaki!"

Death does not come. The miasma of reiatsu remains terrible, yet it no longer frightens Uryū—it feels familiar. Uryū opens his eyes, and Kurosaki stands before him, propping up Yammy's foot. He is still in Hollow form, and between his horns glows a building cero, but it is Kurosaki. Uryū can tell from the wild feel of the reiatsu, from the set of Kurosaki's shoulders, from the stance of Kurosaki's feet.

"Took you long enough," Uryū whispers.

Kurosaki tosses Yammy backwards, and the giant Espada crashes onto the ground. The world shakes, and pain stabs through Uryū. Yammy roars and staggers up, his form a shadow hidden within dust. "Can you move?" Kurosaki asks, his voice ragged. It seems to echo in Uryū's head.

Before Uryū can answer, a glowing shield fills the space between him and Kurosaki. They both turn to face Inoue-san. Behind her is Sado-kun, coughing from the dust and bleeding from the forehead, and Abarai, holding the pale form of Kuchiki-san in his arms. "Go, Kurosaki-kun," Inoue-san says, her voice filled with determination. Her eyes reflect Hueco Mundo's moon. "I will protect Ishida-kun and everyone else. Go do what you need to do."

Kurosaki nods. "Thanks, Inoue," he gasps, and leaps towards Yammy, cero blasting forth.

Uryū shields his eyes from the blinding light, feeling faint. Sado-kun lifts him up, and he screams. His wound burns with pain, and everything fades.

"Sleep, Ishida-kun. Everything will be all right. Kurosaki-kun can't lose now," Inoue-san whispers.

...

The Shinigami healers took Kuchiki-san and Abarai back to Soul Society to recover. Sado-kun left for home, giving them all a thumb up as he left. Uryū decides it is time to leave as well, and he walks through Urahara-san's shop, passing between rows of brightly-colored candy. The sound of a familiar voice calling his name draws him up short.

"Kurosaki-san is asking for you!" Urahara-san says, smiling over his fan. "He's in the back."

Uryū scowls. "I don't have time for him." The mention of Kurosaki's name fills Uryū with bitterness. Though he went to Hueco Mundo to save Inoue-san, in the end, it was she and Kurosaki who saved everyone. Uryū was only dead weight.

"You're so cold, Ishida-san! You like to play hard to get, don't you?"

"What the hell are you suggesting? Don't say such unrelated things!" Uryū spins on his heel to glare at Urahara-san, wincing from the effort. Though hours have passed since Inoue-san's healing, he still feels weak. His body aches with every movement, and he feels hot despite the chill in Urahara-san's shop.

"You're all flushed, Ishida-san." Urahara-san's grin fades into a serious expression. "You don't look well. I have a friend who I could ask for some medicine—"

"I'll be fine." Uryū turns back to the entrance of Urahara-san's shop. He sees Inoue-san and Arisawa-san at the door, hand in hand.

Inoue-san smiles sadly at him. "Thank you for everything, Ishida-kun. Please thank Kurosaki-kun for me, too." She glances at the floor. "I'll see you both at school."

"Of course, Inoue-san," Uryū says.

Inoue-san nods and then follows Arisawa-san out. Arisawa-san nods at Uryū, then starts to pull Inoue-san behind her, demanding to know if she ate recently.

"I'll tell Ichigo you were too tired to see him," Urahara-san says as the girls depart. "I'm sure he'll understand."

Uryū walks forward, but pain forces him to pause and rub the scar on his stomach. It feels hot beneath his fingertips and prickles at his surrounding skin, as if a hot branding iron slid through his belly.

"Ah, it is strange that Inoue-san couldn't erase that scar, isn't it? Quite mysterious."

"I suppose so." As far as Uryū is concerned, the scar exists so he will not forget his numerous failures in Hueco Mundo. He has vowed never to be so useless again. He will train until his weakness bleeds out of him, and he can face Kurosaki as a man.

"In any case, have a good evening, Ishida-san."

Uryū nods. He hears Kurosaki's voice as he leaves. He shuts the door and walks home, more than his scar paining him.

...

"Why the hell aren't you talking to me now, Ishida?" Kurosaki demands during lunch the next day.

Uryū does not answer. He made a promise to his father, and now that Kurosaki is no longer independent of Soul Society, he has no choice but to honor it. He ignores Kurosaki and rubs his aching scar. He wonders why Inoue-san could not heal it and flexes the fingers of his new hand. When he glances up at Inoue-san, she and Arisawa-san are hunched over their lunches, talking.

"Yo! Ishida! I'm talking to you!" Kurosaki scowls. "Are you deaf?"

Inoue-san glances up. Uryū sighs and takes another bite of his curried chicken. Inoue-san's eyes lack their former brilliance, and her melancholy expression reminds Uryū of Ulquiorra. Something has changed in her, replacing the innocent girl he knew with a strange woman. Uryū mourns the girl's passing.

Kurosaki makes noise of disgust. "You're unbelievable." Uryū does not look up until he hears the sound of Kurosaki's footsteps. Kurosaki is sitting at his desk and glaring at a book. Inoue-san glances between the two of them and frowns at Uryū, who snaps his gaze back to his bento.

When class begins, Uryū watches Kurosaki take notes. His ridiculous orange hair seems a little longer now, obscuring his eyes. Uryū recalls the long orange hair of Kurosaki's Hollow and wonders if that creature changed Kurosaki as Ulquiorra changed Inoue-san. Kurosaki stretches his arms periodically, and the movement of muscles beneath his shirt fascinates Uryū more than it should. Heat floods his face, and he turns back to his notes, hoping his cheeks are not flushed. He promised himself months ago to stop watching Kurosaki like that.

As soon as class ends, Uryū leaves to train before Kurosaki can approach him.

...

After gym class, Uryū perches on the end of the bench to finish dressing while the other boys compare the qualities of the girls in his class. He tries to ignore the inevitable discussion of Inoue-san's bosom and pulls on his socks. It no longer bothers him as it once did. Inoue-san changed, and his feelings for her changed as well.

Kurosaki emerges from the shower, one hand clutching a towel around his hips, and walks over to grab his clothing. Uryū tries to ignore him, but the sight of Kurosaki naked proves as irresistible as ever. He lost his interest in Inoue-san, but his attraction to Kurosaki remains, stronger than ever. He admires the bare hips and the muscled chest for three too-short seconds before forcibly concentrating on tying his shoes.

"It's not your father's promise, is it?" Kurosaki asks. "Because if you're really not talking to me because of that, after everything that's happened, that's shit. We're on the same side, like it or not."

Uryū stands up and tosses his bag over his shoulder, annoyed that Kurosaki seems bound and determined to talk about why Uryū will not talk to him. "On our way to Hueco Mundo, you said you were not on my side, so spare me—"

Kurosaki blinks. "What? When did I say such a thing?" Uryū lifts his chin, and Kurosaki scowls. "Never mind, even if I did, I didn't mean it like this, all right?"

"Don't worry, Kurosaki," Uryū says through his teeth, turning to leave. "You don't need to try and spare my feelings. I know I was dead weight to you, but I will not hold you back again."

Kurosaki grabs Uryū's arm and spins him around. "Dead weight? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Uryū tries to jerk away, but the worn treads on his shoes lose their grip on the tiled floor. Kurosaki grabs him, and with reverse momentum, Uryū tilts and slams into Kurosaki's chest. Moisture seeps into his clothes, and he feels the rhythmic thump of Kurosaki's heartbeat, the tightening of Kurosaki's hands on his biceps, and Kurosaki's gaze on his face. The smell of soap makes Uryū dizzy, and it occurs to him that if Kurosaki clutches him with both hands, nothing holds up the towel. This thought makes it difficult to process any others.

Kurosaki exhales, his brown eyes intent. "You dumbass," he whispers. "You saved me. Don't you remember?"

Uryū's breath catches. He called Kurosaki's name over and over in the fight against Yammy, but that could not have possibly brought Kurosaki back. It could not have been him. Kurosaki always fought to the limit to protect Inoue-san, Kuchiki-san, Sado-kun, even Abarai. Kurosaki would cut through Soul Society, Las Noches, even Hell itself, to save his friends. But Uryū is not his friend. He could not have called Kurosaki back

This time, when Uryū jerks backward, his shoes maintain their grip. Kurosaki lets go and bends down to grab his fallen towel. Uryū keeps his gaze on Kurosaki's face, not daring to glance at the bare shoulders, the naked chest, the—no; he keeps his gaze on Kurosaki's face.

Kurosaki wraps his towel about his waist again, saying nothing for a moment, though his face is flushed. "Come on, Ishida. Tell me what's really pissing you off." He glances at Uryū's stomach. Uryū's scar stings as if in response.

"Think what you like." Uryū turns away.

"Hey, come back here, I wasn't done talking to you!"

Uryū walks out and does not glance back, though he wants to. Instead, he finds a quiet place to train until the pain from his scar forces him to stop.

...

The rancid smell of rotting ginkgo fruit makes it difficult to breathe. Darkness shrouds the shrine, and between Uryū and Kurosaki, the Hollow disintegrates into spirit particles, a strangely beautiful sight. Uryū adjusts his glasses and studies Kurosaki.

"Problem?"

Kurosaki meets his gaze with all the intensity of the sun. "That was my kill, Ishida."

"Mine now."

"Asshole."

Uryū's stomach scar pains him again, and he turns away. He should not be so worn out from destroying a single Hollow, even while accounting for how powerful Ginrei Kojaku's arrows were now.

"Hey!" Kurosaki puts a hand on Uryū's shoulder. Uryū shivers a little. He hates himself for reacting so strongly to another man's touch. He does not know if it bothers him more that Kurosaki is male or that Kurosaki seems to make him feel so out of control.

Uryū glances back at Kurosaki, keeping his gaze as cold as possible, though he cannot bring himself to shrug off Kurosaki's hand.

"Look, Ishida, if this is about what happened in Las Noches—" Kurosaki bows, his hair obscuring his expression. "I'm sorry. I will never hurt you again."

Uryū balls his hands into fists to prevent them from trembling. Words catch in his throat for a moment. He did not need to hear that, yet hearing it made his heart ache. Never, in all his life, had anyone made him such a promise. "Idiot. I forgot about that the moment it happened. I knew that wasn't you. Let me go."

When Kurosaki's face lights up, Uryū realizes he betrayed himself. He does not allow himself to wonder about Kurosaki's reaction, lest he give into his pathetic inclination to press his lips against Kurosaki's. "Let me go," he says quickly. "I won't say it again."

Kurosaki scowls. "Dammit, Ishida, why do you always do this?"

Searing pain stabs through Uryū's scar. He doubles over, gripping his stomach and gasping for air as pain flares through his system.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Kurosaki moves closer, eyes wide with concern.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, you're in pain."

"Why won't you leave me alone?"

Kurosaki moves closer, and the pain eases as quickly as it came. Uryū sighs in relief.

"You act like you don't even know," Kurosaki says. He grabs Uryū by the front of his cape and forces their lips together. Uryū stiffens. His first kiss feels more like Kurosaki mashing their faces together, but Kurosaki's warm lips pressed against his soon erase the discomfort. When Kurosaki's hands slide down his back, Uryū's hands involuntarily close around Kurosaki's forearms. Thrills run between his legs, and by the time Kurosaki's tongue presses against his closed mouth, demanding entrance, he realizes he is enjoying himself.

Uryū recovers his wits and remembers his promise. He gave his word never to associate with a Shinigami, and he is pretty sure that making out with one at a shrine in the middle of night qualifies. He tears himself from Kurosaki's grip and walks away, feeling light-headed. "Stop it. Just leave me alone."

Uryū sneaks a glance back, and immediately regrets it. Kurosaki's brows are furrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down. When he lifts his chin, his eyes reflect the glitter of the distant street lights. Uryū looks away and keeps walking, his heart sinking with every step.

...

Thermometers insist that Uryū's temperature is normal, even though he constantly feels hot. His scar burns hottest of all, especially after training sessions. Every time he practices, his powers grow at a rate akin to Kurosaki's, and that frightens him. He does not understand where this new strength flows from, but he would eat glass before asking his father.

Kurosaki proves as obstinate as ever—he even takes Inoue-san's place in Uryū's dreams. Uryū dreams of the kiss that ended too soon, of bared skin and ginger hair, of soft lips murmuring his name, of strong hands sliding between his legs. He wakes up twisted in his own sheets, finding them damp from sweat and spilled seed.

It was not so long ago that Uryū hated everything about Kurosaki, but now he has to struggle not to watch Kurosaki during classes. He fights with himself so he will not find Kurosaki in a private spot and finish the kiss they started. It is not the judgment of others that stops him, but his promise, that damned promise, and his pride.

During a Handicrafts Club gathering, Uryū watches Inoue-san sew a dress and wishes she would appear in his dreams, like before. Her hair ripples over her shoulders as she bends down to her work, and Uryū imagines what it would be like to run his fingers through it. The thought turns on him, and he sees his fingers buried in bright orange hair instead, sees Kurosaki sigh and tilt his head back to smile at Uryū, sees himself bending down to—

"Ishida-kun, are you doing all right?"

Uryū blinks. Inoue-san stands before him. He musters a smile. "I'm fine, thank you."

She frowns. "Are you sure? Then why are you so flushed all the time?"

"Just a small fever. It will break soon."

"You've been sick since we came home."

"I'll be fine, thank you."

"You said that already." Inoue-san sighs and twists the bottom of her shirt. "Ishida-kun, why don't you talk to Kurosaki-kun anymore? I think you're hurting his feelings."

Uryū swallows, unsure of how to respond. "I—well, I—"

"Ishida-kun, I don't know what's going on, and it's not my place to get involved, but—" Inoue-san takes a deep breath and glances around. The other club members pay them no mind. "I was so mixed up before. I had all the wrong ideas in my head. But after Ulquiorra died, I understood." She bows her head. "I think you're mixed up right now, too. I hope you sort it out soon, Ishida-kun."

"Inoue-san…" Uryū stares at her. He does not really understand what she means, but he can tell she is sincere. "Thank you." He stands and bows, wincing as his scar starts to sting. "I'm a bit thirsty, so excuse me."

Inoue-san returns the bow. "Of course. Thanks for all your hard work."

Uryū grabs his bag and heads to the bathroom. He runs the faucet in one of the sinks, ignoring his flushed reflection, and rubs at his scar. He takes several sips of water, and after a few minutes, his pain subsides. When he turns to leave, Kurosaki walks up to him, frowning. Uryū tries to focus on his backpack, on the rough texture of its cloth beneath his fingers. Anything to not think about Kurosaki and their unfinished kiss.

"You're in my way," Uryū finally says. His voice sounds strong and unconcerned, much to his satisfaction.

"So that's all you have to say? That I'm in your way? Well, that's my fucking intention. See, I've been doing some thinking—"

"Will wonders never cease?"

"You really piss me off, you know that? I'm trying to talk to you. Why the hell do you keep acting like nothing's happened?"

Uryū's scar stabs at him again. He presses his fingers against it, forcing himself not to double over.

Kurosaki's eyebrows knit together. "Something is really wrong with you, isn't it? Even Chad said you looked sick."

The room starts to whirl. Uryū leans against a sink, trying to catch his balance. Kurosaki grabs him and asks again if he's okay, but it feels as if it were happening to someone else. His throat hurts, his head aches, his scar stings, and Kurosaki makes the heat unbearable.

"I'm fine. Let me go. I just have a cold, that's all."

Kurosaki's soul phone beeps. Uryū nearly weeps in relief when Kurosaki backs off to pull it out. After a moment, Kurosaki swears and runs toward the exit, his sneakers squeaking on the tile. "This isn't over, Ishida!" he calls behind him.

Uryū manages to walk home and collapse on his bed, but he does not fall asleep for hours, not until the pain finally stops.

...

Uryū wakes to a muffled male voice coming from his balcony. Moonlight streams through the windows; he slept the entire afternoon away. He pushes himself off the bed, though the effort makes him feel faint. Managing to remain upright, he slides open his balcony door to find an orange head peeking over the railing.

"Oh, good, there you are." Kurosaki stares up at Ishida, gripping the balcony railing with whitened knuckles. "Your building is kind of slippery. You should call someone about that."

"What the hell are you doing climbing my apartment building like some sort of burglar?"

"Burglar? I'm just trying to visit a classmate." Kurosaki swings himself over the balcony and sits down, smirking at Uryū in that Kurosaki way of his.

"What the hell was wrong with walking up the stairs and ringing the doorbell, you idiot? You're going to wake my neighbors, if you haven't already!"

"Me? You're the one yelling!"

"Because you're breaking and entering!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't think you'd open the door. This way, you can't ignore me."

"Really?" Uryū steps back into his apartment. He slides the door shut and locks it. When he peers through the glass, Kurosaki scowls at him.

"Ishida, you bastard! You can't leave me out here."

"I just did."

"Fuck that!" Kurosaki rattles at the glass. "Let me in, or I'm really gonna start shouting."

"I'll call the police if you do."

"And by the time they get here, I'll have woken up your entire apartment building."

"Fine!" Uryū opens the door and lets Kurosaki in, scowling. "Stop making so much damn noise."

Kurosaki strides in and glances around the single room and shabby furniture. "Nice place."

"It's small and cramped," Uryū says dryly. "Now, get out of it."

"Geez, attitude. Why let me in to kick me out a second later? Look at it this way: at least I'm not moving into your closet and forcing my job on you."

"Hilarious. The door is over there." Uryū points, then winces from another stab of pain.

"I'm not leaving until we talk. Or I really will move into your closet."

Pain blazes through Uryū's middle, and he presses a hand to his stomach, feeling the heat from his scar through his shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on that.

Kurosaki steps closer. "You're in pain. Don't try to lie about it again."

"It'll pass," Uryū whispers, feeling faint again.

The room begins to spin, and Uryū reaches for something, anything to hold him up. Kurosaki grabs him before he hits the floor, and Uryū moans in pain.

"Fuck, Ishida, you're burning up!"

The room pitches, and Uryū falls against Kurosaki. Kurosaki's name escapes his lips before he can choke it back.

"Ishida! Talk to me!"

But Uryū cannot speak. Reality narrows to his burning scar and then to nothingness.

...

"Ishida-kun, are you awake?"

Uryū opens his eyes, only to regret it instantly. His eyes sting from the bright lights overhead, and he recognizes the sterile smell of a hospital. "Father?"

"Er, no. Not yours at least."

Uryū sits up, wincing. He is in a small room lined with cabinets stuffed full of medicine bottles. A man in a white coat swims into view. Though his face bears unfamiliar scruff and a stronger jaw, Uryū recognizes the eyes.

"Kurosaki."

"Hey, great guess!" The man flashes white teeth. "I'm Kurosaki Isshin. You go to school with Ichigo, right? He brought you in here. Said you passed out. Do you remember what happened?"

Uryū frowns, remembering unbearable pain and Kurosaki holding him. "I felt sick."

Kurosaki's father frowns. "Yeah, you had a fever, but it broke this morning. It wasn't a normal sickness you had, but then you're not a normal kid, eh?" He sighs. "I let your father know you were going to be all right."

"My father? You know him?"

"That's one way of putting it." Kurosaki's father smirks and pulls out his mobile. "In any case, you should be safe to go home. I purged the worst of it already, and soon you'll be better than ever—literally. I'm giving you a special antibiotic, and Ichigo will see you home."

"I don't need his help."

"Just like your father. Ichigo should be right over. I just texted him."

Uryū exhales and stands, ignoring how the room whirls. At least his scar no longer pains him, though he still feels sore. By the time he finishes dressing, Kurosaki walks in. Uryū does not know how to act, so he settles for making sure all his buttons are done up correctly.

Kurosaki's father beams. "Looks like you two get along great. Well, Ichigo, make sure Uryū-kun gets home, takes his medicine, and gets some rest, all right?"

"I don't need you to tell me that."

"That's my boy, always willing to lend a helping hand!" Kurosaki's father tries to hug him, but Kurosaki backhands him.

"Weirdo! Don't get so close!"

"My son is so fast and dexterous!" Kurosaki's father wipes a tear from his eye. Uryū wonders if it is from joy or because Kurosaki hit him there. What sort of pair are these two? Uryū would lose an arm if he tried something like this.

Kurosaki's gaze bores into Uryū. "Let's go, Ishida."

"Idiot." Uryū walks to the door, managing not to stumble when the room shifts and blurs. "I don't need your help."

"No, you're the idiot. I had to carry your ass in here, and you think you can just walk home?" Kurosaki reaches for a wheelchair folded up near the entrance.

"Peh." Uryū walks past Kurosaki without glancing at him. He heads out of the clinic, but once he reaches the street corner, he has to lean against a pole. The sidewalk refuses to remain still, and his head starts to hurt from the effort of walking. He crouches down, trying to catch his breath. The sound of footsteps and the crunch of wheels on concrete draw his attention behind him. Kurosaki walks up, pushing an empty wheelchair.

"You're even more stubborn than Rukia, you know that?" Kurosaki grabs Uryū by the back of his shirt and hauls him to his feet. "And if you tell me to let you go one more time, I'm taping your mouth shut."

Uryū struggles, but his movements are weak. He does not know if this is due to his illness or Kurosaki's touch. "I don't need—"

"Liar." Kurosaki shoves Uryū into the wheelchair. "You can barely walk."

Uryū tries to stand up, but cannot. He sighs and surrenders to his fate, silent as Kurosaki wheels him home. When they reach his apartment building, Kurosaki pushes him into the elevator. Uryū pushes the button, sneaking a glance back at Kurosaki as he leans over. Kurosaki opens his mouth to say something, then sighs and leans against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Uryū switches his gaze to the door and wonders what Kurosaki wanted to say. It annoys him that he wants to know.

Uryū speaks once they reach his door. "I can get inside by myself."

"That's nice. Open it already."

Uryū opens the door as sullenly as he can, and Kurosaki wheels him in. As Uryū pushes himself out of the wheelchair, Kurosaki picks up a fallen lamp. It must have fallen when Uryū fainted, and Uryū reflects he was lucky that Kurosaki was so insistent on visiting him, otherwise he might have died last night. Kurosaki has saved his life more times than he can count. Does that counter his promise to his father at all?

Kurosaki turns to him. "Go on, take your clothes off."

"E-Excuse me?"

"You can't sleep in your clothes."

"I'm not stripping in front of you!"

Kurosaki turns red. "I didn't mean it like that! But fine. I'm going to get you some water; tell me when you're dressed." He stalks away to the kitchen and within moments, Uryū can hear cabinet doors opening.

"If you break something, Kurosaki, you're paying for it!"

"Shut the hell up and change already!"

Uryū sighs and undresses. His body still feels sore and weak as he shuffles over to his closet. He wonders what his unnamed illness was and why Kurosaki's father did not explain it. Those questions, as important as they were, pale before the question Uryū can't dismiss: why does Kurosaki care so much? They aren't friends. If Kurosaki wants sex, he can find that anywhere, and with far less trouble.

"Are you done yet?"

Uryū pulls on his pajamas. "I'm done." He sits on his bed as Kurosaki walks in with a glass of water and two blue pills.

"Take them without an argument for once, or I'm bringing Kon to your place and leaving him here."

Bereft of witty responses, Uryū obediently takes the pills. They feel cold sliding down his throat. His scar tingles, and Uryū senses his own reiatsu again, but in a way he has not felt since Las Noches. He feels lighter and once again in tune with his own spirit.

"Spiritual medicine?" What sort of man is Kurosaki Isshin to give Uryū something like this?

Kurosaki sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders sagging. "It's my fault." He sounds like a small boy begging for a friend not to hate him after he broke a toy. "It was me that made you sick. My… energy. All that energy I had built up in Hueco Mundo. Your spiritual immune system was weak because of your injuries, and my reiatsu infected you somehow when I stabbed you. "

Uryū can see regret burning in Kurosaki's eyes. All his pain—Kurosaki caused all of it. A dozen emotions crowd in Uryū's heart, but the only one that matters is his relief that it is over. Kurosaki is himself again.

Kurosaki looks down. "At least your spiritual power quintupled while trying to fend mine off. According to my old man."

Uryū sets down his empty glass, blinking at this news. He is stronger now, and can fight beside Kurosaki once again. He could almost hear his father telling him that such power had to be obtained through suffering. He scowls, not wanting to think about his father. "You're an unbearable moron, Kurosaki. So your tainted reiatsu infected me in Hueco Mundo. I already told you that I forgot about that. I'm fine now, so you can leave."

Kurosaki glares. "That's it?"

"What more do you want from me? I'm not going to thank you for bringing me here, especially since you're the one who made me sick. I can't sleep with orange-haired thugs staring at me, so go."

Kurosaki's face reddens. "Did you really forget it?"

Uryū looks away, feeling a cold pit in his belly. "I still have a promise to keep."

"And that's more important than me?"

Uryū glances at Kurosaki again. Everything about him seems constantly on fire, and Uryū feels as if he will catch fire too if he looks at Kurosaki for too long. This is too much right now, and he feels light-headed.

"I don't want to talk right now. I'm very tired."

"Go to sleep, then." Kurosaki backs off. The dimness of the room hides his expression. "We can talk when you wake up. If you need me for something, I'll be here."

"Whatever." Uryū lies down, his body drained of all energy. He closes his eyes, cold now that Kurosaki is no longer near. The last of Uryū's reserves soon flee and leave him in the care of a dreamless sleep.

...

Moonlight still shines through the windows when Uryū wakes. He tries to recall what day it is. Time no longer means anything; it drifts along Uryū's consciousness, anchorless in a tide of restless emotions. He suspects the medication Kurosaki's father gave him has something to do with this.

"You're already awake after an hour? You can't replenish your spiritual energy if you don't sleep, Ishida."

Kurosaki. A shadow stirs, and Kurosaki approaches, frowning. He frowns so often that Uryū can easily forget all the times he has smiled. Kuchiki-san alone seems to have the power to make Kurosaki smile, and Uryū suddenly wishes he shared it. It is a stupid wish, pathetic and weak, but he makes it all the same.

"Why are you still here?" Uryū asks, sitting up.

Kurosaki presses the back of his hand to Uryū's forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever right now, at least."

"Don't touch me."

"Do you always have to be so prickly? I'm not your enemy. I don't care what your father told you, or what promise you made to him. The bond between friends is stronger than that."

"We're not friends."

Kurosaki works his jaw. "I see." His hand lifts from Uryū's face, and a chill creeps between them as Kurosaki turns away. Uryū catches a glimpse of Kurosaki's expression. It reminds Uryū of how Kurosaki looked when broke off their first kiss, at the shrine. His heart sinks at the sight of it once again.

Uryū suddenly does not care any longer if he is an oath-breaker, or even what his father thinks of him. Not at this cost. Uryū does not want Kurosaki to leave. He craves every contact they have, even when he hates himself for it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," Uryū whispers, his fingers curling around the edge of his covers.

Kurosaki glances back at him. "Is it always going to be like this, Ishida? You and me lying to each other? Trying to pretend—"

"Pretend what?" Uryū asks, hoping to derail Kurosaki. A confession would be as unbearable as Kurosaki's Hollow's reiatsu.

Kurosaki moves back to Uryū's bed and pries his hands away from the covers, enfolding them with his own. Uryū shivers at the warmth, at the hum of limitless spiritual strength beneath the skin, at the calluses Kurosaki bears from his blade. "Pretend this doesn't exist."

Uryū stares at their entwined hands. "This…?"

"It's important. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have come when you called me back."

"What are you talking about? I did nothing."

"You kept calling my name. You didn't give up on me. The sound of your voice helped me overpower the Hollow. I couldn't let it end that way, either. I couldn't let you die because I was weak. The rest would forgive me, I guess, but you wouldn't, would you, you cranky bastard?"

Uryū pulls his hands away. He cannot stand how happy Kurosaki's words make him feel. It makes him feel as pathetic and soft as his father says he is. Damn Kurosaki and his annoying power to make Uryū feel things he does not want to feel.

"You know." Kurosaki stares down at Uryū's bedspread. "I was thinking. About your promise to your father. I don't think it applies to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not exactly a Shinigami. I'm not exactly a Hollow. I'm not even exactly a Visored. No one really knows what I am. So your promise to him—it doesn't apply to me."

Uryū cannot help but smile. "What sort of twisted logic is that?"

"The sort inspired by you." Kurosaki grins, and Uryū realizes he does share Kuchiki-san's power to make Kurosaki smile. "I thought you'd approve."

"Heh. Copycat."

"You're flushed again. You should probably go back to sleep."

"I don't think I can now." Uryū stares at Kurosaki's hands.

"I know something that always helps me sleep. I could show you," Kurosaki whispers. He leans down and rests a hand on Uryū's hip. The light weight teases Uryū for a moment, until Kurosaki's hand drifts between his legs. The touch jolts him with desire, and he leans forward to kiss Kurosaki.

Kurosaki's lips feel softer than he remembers. Uryū leans back and runs his hands down Kurosaki's chest, watching Kurosaki's eyes flutter at his touch. He feels Kurosaki's heartbeat beneath his fingertips. When he lifts Kurosaki's shirt, the bare skin is as smooth and firm as he imagined.

Kurosaki brushes the hair from Uryū's face with one hand, the other still rubbing Uryū through his pajamas. Uryū squirms, his lower body heating with pleasure, and he slips his hands from Kurosaki's chest to balance himself on the mattress. When Kurosaki pulls his pajamas down to finish the job with his mouth, bliss quiets Uryū's mind. He moans and comes, feeling dizzy as he tries to regain his wits.

Kurosaki sits up, licking his lips, the hungry look in his eyes making Uryū want to come all over again. He wonders if he should say something, but Kurosaki spares him the embarrassment by kissing him. Kurosaki's fingers wind through his hair, and Uryū returns the gesture. The kiss is rougher this time, and Kurosaki pushes his tongue into Uryū's mouth. Uryū can taste himself and finds it both strange and intoxicating. He sucks on Kurosaki's tongue, and the soft noise Kurosaki makes is empowering, and Uryū sucks on Kurosaki's tongue again to hear more of it.

Uryū slides a hand into Kurosaki's trousers. Kurosaki's breath hitches. It only takes a few moments until Kurosaki finally moans into his mouth. Kurosaki rocks against him and clutches the back of his shirt.

Their kiss does not end until Kurosaki comes. Uryū leans back, admiring the way moonlight plays over Kurosaki's face when he tilts his head back. Kurosaki's neck muscles go taut, and his mouth works soundlessly before murmuring something incomprehensible. He slips down to lie on the mattress and pulls Uryū down beside him. Uryū closes his eyes as Kurosaki strokes his hair. It seems odd to share something so gentle with another male, much less Kurosaki, but Uryū cannot bring himself to mind. Kurosaki's hand slows and eventually stills, his fingers still entwined in Uryū's hair as he falls asleep.

Uryū opens his eyes. Kurosaki's skin appears dark against the white sheets, and his breath feels warm against Uryū's shoulder. Uryū runs a finger over Kurosaki's cheek.

"We can do it again in a little bit," Kurosaki murmurs, nuzzling against Uryū's neck. He brushes a hand over Uryū's stomach scar, but there is no pain now. Only a sense of warmth. Uryū closes his eyes, finally feeling at peace for the first time since returning home from Hueco Mundo. He expects the peace to last only as long as Kurosaki sleeps, but he would not have it any other way.