((Warning for a couple of paragraphs where Erich is throwing up. It’s not a very graphic description, and not from his POV at all, but it’s there. If you want to skip it, it’s the three paragraphs immediately after where Erich chokes and covers his mouth.))
“Thank you, Ishida-kun,” Kisuke says as Ishida unlocks the door to Rerugen’s apartment and opens it for him.
Ishida glances from Rerugen to Kisuke and then into Rerugen’s apartment and awkwardly asks, “Do you… need any help?”
Kisuke considers the offer, considers Ishida’s potential reasons for offering, then shakes his head and answers, “No. I’m just going to get him cleaned off a bit and into bed. Thank you though, Ishida-kun.”
Ishida gives a jerky nod and then steps back. “If… if you need anything, I’m just a few doors down,” he mumbles as he glances down the hallway. “Uhm… good evening, Urahara-san.” Ishida bows slightly and turns away, slipping down the hall towards his own apartment on cat-quiet feet.
“Ishida-kun,” Kisuke calls out before Ishida can get too far away. When Ishida pauses to glance over his shoulder at him, Kisuke says, “Come to the shoten whenever you need.” He hopes that Ishida understands his offer — that Ishida doesn’t need to be alone after the mess he just survived — but even if the teen doesn’t, at least the offer is there.
(And he can always point Rerugen at Ishida if it becomes necessary.)
(Assuming Rerugen doesn’t notice before Kisuke does.)
“I… okay?” Ishida’s brows furrow and his lips thin, before he finally sighs and turns away. “Thanks, Urahara-san, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says as he sets off again.
Kisuke doesn’t have any idea what that means, but… he’ll deal with it later. For now, Rerugen needs his attention.
It’s a matter of moments for Kisuke to step inside and kick the door closed behind him, gaze sweeping over the area.
Rerugen’s apartment is small and relatively tidy, or at least what Kisuke can see of it is: there’s a newspaper on the kitchen counter next to a mug and a half-eaten pretzel, but beyond that and a few plates in the sink, everything seems to be in its place. And the same holds true when he toes off his shoes and passes through the main area and into the short hallway that leads to the bathroom and Rerugen’s bedroom; the whole place just… doesn’t really look lived in, nor does it feel lived in, considering how few traces of Rerugen’s reiatsu linger about.
Kisuke knows the man rarely lets his power free, but to keep his presence muted even in his own home…
Kisuke sighs, shakes the thought free, and wavers next to the bathroom door, debating if he wants to try to clean Rerugen off or just strip the man’s outer clothing and put him to bed; on one hand, it’s probably less invasive if he just takes Rerugen’s shirt and pants off and puts him to bed, but on the other…
On the other, Rerugen is not exactly clean. Even without his bloodied shirt and pants, he’s probably going to end up ruining his sheets, and… and in any case, Kisuke knows exactly how horrible it is to wake up covered in sweat, grit, and blood.
Decision made, Kisuke nudges the bathroom door open and carries Rerugen into the little room. He carefully kneels next to the tub and adjusts his grip on Rerugen, ready to set the man down to start undressing him—
Only to freeze at the sudden realization that this is Rerugen, and no matter how much Kisuke likes him, no matter how much he considers Rerugen a trusted friend, Rerugen doesn’t feel the same.
There’s no way Rerugen will react well to Kisuke doing this while he’s unconscious. Or even to Kisuke thinking about doing this while Rerugen is unconscious.
(Rerugen might not even react well to Kisuke just pulling off his outer clothing!)
(Damn!)
(Maybe he should have asked Ishida to stay…)
(Well, too late now.)
Kisuke hesitates a moment longer, then swallows and gently shakes Rerugen’s shoulder. “Rerugen-san,” he says quietly, then waits a moment before repeating the man’s name a bit louder, accompanied by a gentle poke with his reiatsu.
Rerugen stirs. Sighs. Tips his head and presses his face into Kisuke’s chest, his glasses digging into Kisuke’s skin. Stills once more.
Kisuke swallows again, mouth suddenly dust dry and pulse racing, and gives Rerugen’s shoulder another shake. “Rerugen-san, please wake up a moment,” he urges.
“Mmm?” Rerugen stirs again, head tipping up and one eye cracking open to peer up at Kisuke. “Kisuke…? S’wrong…?” he asks sleepily.
The breath freezes in Kisuke’s throat at the sound of Rerugen saying his personal name out of the blue like that. It… it has to be just… just a result of Rerugen being tired. Or— or something like that. He can’t take it to mean anything, he knows he can’t, but— but—!
Rerugen shifts slightly in Kisuke’s grip, a tiny frown on his face as one hand lifts towards Kisuke’s face. His fingers brush butterfly-soft across Kisuke’s skin, tracing a path down his face—
Tracing the scars from Benihime’s skill, Kisuke realizes abruptly, as he jerks his head back before Rerugen can do much more.
(Not that it will help!)
(He can hardly hide such distinctive scars across his face!)
(What must Rerugen think—)
“Sorry,” Rerugen murmurs as his hand drops back to his chest. “Didn’t mean to hurt you…”
Kisuke stares down at Rerugen in surprise, wondering where that idea came from: what little soreness Benihime’s skill had left behind, Unohana had already soothed away. “You didn’t,” he forces out before the silence can begin to stretch uncomfortably. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.” Not that he’s really sure what he expected out of Rerugen— maybe the same sort of quiet acknowledgment followed by business-as-usual that Kyoraku, Ukitake, and Unohana had given him? Rerugen’s been through war before, Kisuke knows, so… so surely scars aren’t anything unusual…
Rerugen makes a soft, concerned noise and reaches back up, fingertips brushing across Kisuke’s cheek as he asks, “What happened?”
“Maa, nothing to be concerned about,” Kisuke tries to reassure Rerugen, even as he catches the man’s hand and pulls it away from his face, hoping desperately that he’s not blushing from how… how tactile Rerugen is being at the moment. “I’m fine, it’s Rerugen-san that has me concerned.”
“Just tired,” Rerugen mutters grumpily while resting his head against Kisuke’s chest again, not even attempting to tug his hand free of Kisuke’s grip.
Kisuke clicks his tongue and adjusts his posture, trying to prop the man up a bit more. “Rerugen-san needs to clean up first,” he says as he nods towards the tub. “Sleeping like this won’t be comfortable at all, even if you take off your dirty clothing.”
Rerugen sighs and pulls away from Kisuke’s chest, squinting hazily down at himself—
Before choking, free hand coming up to cover his mouth, and twisting out of Kisuke’s grip to bolt across the hall to the toilet room.
“Shit,” Kisuke hisses as he scrambles to his feet and follows, kneeling at Rerugen’s side and reaching out to pull the man’s long bangs back as he heaves, throwing up everything in his stomach. He’d expected Rerugen to throw up at some point, given what Unohana had mentioned about the blood, but… no, this is probably for the best. Rerugen will feel better after.
Still, he wishes he could do more than just stay at Rerugen’s side and hold his hair; he doesn’t dare try to soothe Rerugen until he’s thrown it all up, given how nauseating blood can be, which leaves… moral support, basically.
(He hates feeling useless!)
It feels like an eternity before Rerugen finally slumps against Kisuke’s side, his breath ragged and his body trembling like a leaf. He doesn’t move when Kisuke carefully leans over to close to lid and flush the toilet, and doesn’t make a single sound of protest when Kisuke hauls him up and carries him over to the sink.
Luckily, there’s a small cup sitting next to the faucet, and Kisuke promptly turns the sink on, rinses the cup out, then fills it up and lifts it to Rerugen’s mouth. “Here, rinse you mouth out,” Kisuke murmurs as he tips it a bit closer.
Rerugen groans a bit but reaches blindly up with his free hand to guide the cup closer. He takes a sip, swishes, spits, and repeats a few times until all he’s spitting out is water; only then does he take a careful drink, probably trying to wash the feel out of his throat, before letting go and slumping more heavily against Kisuke’s side.
“S-sorry,” Rerugen mumbles, chin tucked towards his chest and eyes squeezed shut.
“Hey, none of that,” Kisuke says while setting the cup back down. “I was expecting that to happen at some point.”
Rerugen shivers, almost seeming to curl in on himself, and asks, “Did… did Kurosaki-kun and Uryuu-kun… did they… tell you?”
“No,” Kisuke immediately says, putting as much firmness in his tone as he can; not that he knows for sure that the teens are unaware, but they certainly didn’t tell him anything. “Unohana-san noticed it while running a diagnostic scan, and she told me in confidence. As far as I’m aware, the three of us are the only ones who know.”
“O-oh…” Rerugen takes a deep, shuddering breath and leans into Kisuke, tiny wisps of his reiatsu slipping free to— to—
To brush against Kisuke’s reiatsu?
It’s a light touch, barely noticeable, and when Kisuke doesn’t immediately respond, Rerugen gives a small flinch and tries to snatch his reiatsu back under his control, but— but that’s when it finally clicks, when Kisuke understands, and instead of allowing Rerugen to retreat, he tangles their reiatsu together and presses warmth-comfort-care through their new connection.
Rerugen freezes, and for a single heartbeat Kisuke almost thinks he’s made a mistake—
Except suddenly Rerugen is clinging to him, pressing so close Kisuke can feel every ragged breath, every silent, hitching sob against his skin. Rerugen’s glasses dig into his chest, a spark of discomfort that doesn’t distract in the slightest from the way his jinbei is growing damp, and Kisuke— Kisuke doesn’t know what the hell he should do about this, or about the way Rerugen’s reiatsu is practically screaming fear-horror-despair at him.
(People don’t usually pick him to cry on!)
(Ururu does sometimes, but— but surely what works with her won’t help here?)
(But he really doesn’t have any other ideas…)
Kisuke does his best to shove his panic back so he can plan his next move; he should— Rerugen’s glasses can’t be comfortable for the man, either, can they? Maybe if he just… pulls them off and sets them aside…
It takes a bit of maneuvering to reach Rerugen’s glasses, and a bit more to carefully pull them from the man’s face, but Rerugen doesn’t fight it; in fact, the instant his glasses are gone, he presses even closer, hands clenching in Kisuke’s jinbei and body practically plastered against Kisuke’s.
Kisuke sets Rerugen’s glasses down on the sink, considers their position for a moment, and then carefully steps back until he can brace himself against the wall and slide down it, taking care to keep Rerugen steady the whole way to the floor. They end up sitting with Rerugen sprawled across Kisuke’s lap, held steady by Kisuke’s arms around him, and if anything, the new position just makes it easier for Rerugen to cling.
Rerugen’s shoulders are shaking, Kisuke realizes numbly, as he cautiously frees a hand and reaches up to brush his fingers against the nape of Rerugen’s neck. Rerugen is crying in his arms, body shaking with the strength of it, and yet the only sound from him is soft, panting gasps and hitching breaths. He’s otherwise silent, and that silence is… it’s somehow worse than all of Ururu’s sobs or Jinta’s screaming, worse than anything Kisuke’s ever had to deal with, and he— he doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what will help.
So he tightens his grip. Rests his cheek atop Rerugen’s head. Runs his fingers through Rerugen’s hair…
…and lets Rerugen cry.