I don't own Bleach or its characters.

Drabble.

OOO

"I hate this," Ichigo grumbled, bent awkwardly over the captain's bandaged figure. Byakuya flinched as the boy pulled a little too harshly.

"Be careful. Slide it."

"I am sliding, it won't slide anymore." Shifting on his knees, Ichigo muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath. Byakuya glared up at him from under his lashes. "What the hell is this thing, anyway?" he asked in exasperation as his fingers tangled yet again in the delicate webbing. "I still say you should let me break it." Ichigo yanked on the metal clip and Byakuya suppressed another wince.

"It is a Kenseikan, and I won't have you destroy another one." Rigidly uncomfortable, Byakuya kept his eyes cast down towards the ashen sheets. Ichigo leaned closer, and he could feel the heat from his body on his face.

"Please, you probably have like a hundred." The younger shinigami grunted as he worked loose another few strands of hair.

"I was fine on my own," Byakuya answered a little waspishly. He'd been attaching the headdress when Abarai had finally left him alone for a minute, struggling with the injuries to his shoulder. After a few unsuccessful attempts, it had ended up thoroughly entangled in his long hair. Ichigo had chosen that moment to waltz in, looking for Rukia again. Byakuya had had to suffer a full three minutes of the orange-haired boy's delighted laughter before he'd offered to help. Anyone else would have taken his icy glare as an ultimate refusal, but the headstrong shinigami had merely brushed aside stony rebuttal and tackled the problem head on. With absolutely no concern for his welfare, Byakuya added as his hair was jerked on for what seemed like the hundredth time. Abarai would at least have handled his noble headdress gently, and treated him and his hair with the respect it warranted.

"Yeah, you looked fine from where I was standing. Oi, stop daydreaming." Ichigo added a firm tug to recapture his attention. One of the metal clips had been freed and now dangled in front of his face. Byakuya glared at it irritably. Ichigo chuckled at him and his glare intensified. "You should get the healers to look at you again, if it's still bad," the boy said absently. "Or I can ask Orihime if-"

"No."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Tch. Whatever." Blue eyes narrowed as he focussed on the Kenseikan. He eased a few more strands out of the filigree and they floated down. Byakuya frowned as they fell across his eyes. The thin net came off with another sharp tug and he flinched. "Oh stop complaining, you baby. I'm almost done." The final clip took a minute of strained silence as Ichigo pulled it from side to side and coaxed out the trapped hair. "There." He dropped the headdress in his lap like so much wasted cloth. "Done." Then the orange-haired boy combed his fingers through Byakuya's tousled bangs, working out each snarl with surprising tenderness. Byakuya blinked up at him. Ichigo raised his eyebrows. "Can't have anyone see you with a head like a bird's nest. That just might wreck whatever's left of your reputation."

Untangled and unfettered by the slides, the feathery strands came to rest across his nose. Byakuya scowled, knowing he looked more vulnerable and hating that fact. Long fingers brushed the bangs away from his eyes and Ichigo smiled down at him. "Much better." For once discomposed, he stared at the boy in bemusement. Ichigo jumped off the narrow bed and stretched. "I'd better go find Renji; he's probably eaten this place out. Later, Byakuya." The boy's lean figure disappeared out the door with a casual wave. Byakuya looked down at his lap and fingered the Kenseikan. He sighed.

Humans.

OOO