AN: Okay, this is my first story that I've published, and I really would like it if everyone could just be very honest with me about how good it is. I enjoy constructive criticism. But anyways, enjoy the story. It's a one-shot, but if enough people want me to make it into an actual story, then I'm game. The pairing is KisIchi (or UraIchi, it doesn't really make a difference). Just enjoy it and rate and review.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach. Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

Who Knew Being Sick Could Be This Good?

Urahara Kisuke sighed. He was sitting in his shop with nothing to do. Yoruichi had gone off to see Soi Fon, something she had been doing a lot as of late. Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu had gone to pick up a new shipment for the shop, leaving him alone due to the fact that he had been feeling ill earlier that day. At first he had tried sleeping, but that didn't work so he'd moved on to watching TV, but there was nothing of interest on. He'd then tried to cook some eggs, which ended up being rotten, and he had to throw them out and open the doors and windows to get rid of the stench. When he finally decided to clean, he found that Jinta and Ururu had cleaned the whole shop before leaving. He had scowled and sat down in his usual place where he had a view of the front door of the shop, a cup of tea in hand.

The familiar uncontrolled riatsu of a certain orange haired, tan, and talented substitute Shinigami hit Kisuke's senses then. Happiness washed over the blonde haired man at the thought of seeing Kurosaki Ichigo. The happiness he felt was accompanied by butterflies in his stomach. It was a familiar feeling, though he wasn't exactly sure when it became so familiar. He supposed it had happened around when he put the boy through training in the Shattered Shaft. That's when they had become mentor and student, and for a month or two he could get away with saying that his feelings were nothing more than that; a mentor's affection for his student. When Ichigo had returned from the Soul Society, and Kisuke had seen that the boy was alive and well, he'd wanted to jump of joy. And when Kisuke had apologized, and Ichigo wasn't mad, he'd wished to envelope the boy in a hug; he had wanted to kiss him.

That was when he knew he had feelings for Ichigo. He also knew, with absolute certainty, that he couldn't tell Ichigo. He knew that the boy would have a lot of pressure on him, first with the Bounts and now with Aizen and the Arrancar. He was going to meet Shinji soon, and then he would start training to control his hollow. When that happened he would come see Kisuke less. Kisuke didn't want to push the boy away even more by telling him how he felt. So he would keep his mouth shut.

He pulled out of his thoughts when the door slid open and Ichigo walked in. Kisuke blinked and looked up at the boy with a smile, opening his ever present fan and holding it in front of his face. "Kurosaki-kun! What can I do for you today?" he said cheerily, instantly using Ichigo's last name instead of calling him by his first name, as he was prone to do in his thoughts.

"I need to study, and I wasn't going to get anything done at my house, so I came here. I figured I could get some training in too," the boy said with a shrug.

"Of course Kurosaki-kun. Do you want some tea?" Kisuke asked, fanning himself.

"Sure," Ichigo replied, walking towards a room at the back of the shop.

Kisuke closed his fan with a snap and stood to follow. He felt a wave of dizziness roll over him, which he did his best to ignore. He made it maybe five steps before everything went black.

Ichigo made his way to Urahara's shop after school, the bag holding his school work stuffed under his arm. While he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he really enjoyed going to see Hat and Clogs, and for a reason other than training. He had a damned crush on the shopkeeper. When he had realized this, he tried telling himself that the man was older than him, that he was a man, not a teenage hormone bomb like Ichigo. When this did nothing to convince his mind, or body, he reasoned that no way in hell was Urahara Kisuke gay. And even if he was, it wasn't for an unstable teen that would probably die at Aizen's sword, and hadn't even had his first kiss.

When the shop was in sight, Ichigo pushed those thoughts away, putting on his typical scowl and walking up to the door and pulling it open. The blonde shopkeeper looked up at him, smiled, and covered said smile with his fan. Grey eyes shined up at him from under the brim of his green and white stripped hat. "Kurosaki-kun! What can I do for you today?" the man asked in his usual happy voice. Ichigo's mind lingered for a moment on how pale the man's face had looked, before it was covered by the fan.

Ichigo dismissed it as a trick of light as he said in a bored voice, "I need to study, and I wasn't going to get anything done at my house, so I came here." He shrugged, adding one more reason to his excuse to visit the man, "I figured I could get some training in too."

Urahara waved his fan as he said, "Of course Kurosaki-kun. Do you want some tea?"

"Sure," Ichigo said, walking past the blonde toward the room at the back of the shop where he could sit down at a table and work.

Behind him he heard the sound of Urahara's fan closing, and the soft swish of fabric as he stood. Ichigo was listening to Urahara so closely that he heard the change in breathing and the halt of footsteps. Ichigo turned in time to see Urahara falling. He let go of his bag and moved swiftly, catching Urahara before he hit the ground, the tea glass shattering as it hit the floor. Ichigo lifted the man in his arms, the hat falling off as he carried the body down the hall to the room he knew to be Urahara's. He opened the door with a foot and moved to the futon, carefully laying the unconscious man down.

Ichigo frantically checked his mentor's pule, which seemed normal to him. He brushed the hair out of Urahara's face and let his hand rest there, checking the other's temperature. Ichigo was about to pull away when a hand rested on—no—grabbed his. Ichigo watched with something akin to wonder as Urahara's pale eyes fluttered and opened to meet Ichigo's own chocolate ones. Urahara pulled Ichigo's hand down, holding it at his chest.

"Ichigo… I must be dreaming," he said numbly. After a second he chuckled, eyes closing. "This is a very toned down dream, you know. Usually one of us is at least shirtless…"

Ichigo felt his face grow red as he swallowed thickly. "Sh-shirtless?" he stammered. But Urahara had already fallen asleep once more. After a long moment, during which Ichigo was trying to keep from getting his hopes up, he pulled his hand out of Urahara's. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Orihime's number, putting it to his ear, hoping that she would be home. After the third ring, she answered.

"Hello!" she said in her soft, happy voice.

"Hey Inoue," Ichigo sighed, relieved that she answered.

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun! How are you?" she asked, a smile obvious in her voice.

"I'm okay. I was actually wondering if you could do me a favor?" he said, scratching the back of his head.

"Sure! What is it?" she said instantly.

"Urahara fainted, and I want you to come and make sure he's okay," Ichigo explained, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping man.

"Oh! Of course! I'll be right there!" she said, hanging up without waiting for Ichigo to say anything else. After sitting there for a moment he put the phone back in his pocket and left the room. He grabbed Urahara's hat and placed it on a shelf, kneeling down and picking up the broken glass. He ignored the feeling of glass cutting his palm and fingers, finished picking the glass up and threw it in the trash. He grabbed an old rag and started cleaning up the tea, shooting glances down the hall every couple seconds.

A few minutes later and the door to the shop slid open. Ichigo looked up to see the Orihime standing there, her breathing indicating that she had run to the shoten. "Hey Inoue," Ichigo said, sitting back with a sigh.

"Hi Kurosaki-kun. Where's Urahara-san?" she asked, blinking at him.

Ichigo carelessly tossed the rag aside and led the orange haired girl to Urahara's room. When they reached it, Orihime moved past Ichigo and into the room. She knelt down next to the shopkeeper and held out her hands. "Soten Kisshun. I reject," she said, the yellowish barrier forming around Urahara at her command. Ichigo stepped warily into the room, watching the blonde carefully. A minute went by, and then the barrier disappeared, and Orihime stood up.

"So what's wrong with him?" Ichigo asked bluntly, pulling his eyes away to meet brown eyes.

"There isn't anything wrong with him. He's just tired, and he might have a cold or the flu. But Urahara-san will be just fine," she said calmly. Ichigo let out a sigh of relief, nodding.

"Thanks Inoue. I'm sorry for bringing you all the way out here," he said.

"It's no problem Kurosaki-kun! I had only just started making dinner!" she said, smiling. "Is anyone else here?"

Ichigo shook his head. "I didn't see anyone, why?"

"Someone should watch Urahara-san, just in case," she stated. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No. It's fine Inoue. You go finish your dinner," he told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yea. Thanks again Inoue."

Sudden understanding lit up her eyes and her smile softened a little. 'So he does like Urahara-san. I'm happy for him,' she thought. "You're welcome Kurosaki-kun." She turned and left the room. Ichigo followed her out to the front of the shop.

"Bye, Inoue. I'll see you later," he said. Orihime nodded and waved energetically as she walked away.

"Bye Kurosaki-kun!" she shouted back before being swallowed by the gathering twilight. Ichigo stood in the doorway for a long moment, letting the cool night wind brush against his skin like a caress. The whole time he was standing there, he was slowly deciding that he would tell the grey-eyed shopkeeper how he felt. He closed his eyes, hoping the man wouldn't push him away. When he finally stepped back inside and closed the door, the sunlight had vanished, and shadow had claimed the alleyway the shoten was located in.

Kisuke opened his eyes and sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. He frowned when he realized that he was in his bed. 'When did I get here?' he wondered, his confusion growing when he couldn't find his hat and he was still wearing his haori. He stood up and stretched, yawning. He left his room and headed down the hall, scratching the back of his head, ruffling his hair. "Tessai, have you seen my hat?" he said sleepily as he emerged from the hall, stopping when he saw Ichigo standing in the door way, completely unaware of his presence.

The boy—no—the teen was silhouetted against the door frame, the fading light turning his orange hair red. His muscles were completely relaxed, almost like he was asleep. The brown eyes were hidden behind his eyelids, and his head was turned up slightly, the gentle breeze ruffling the teen's hair. Kisuke stood in the hallway, staring wide eyed at how… how stunning Ichigo looked right then.

Kisuke wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring like that, but then Ichigo took a few steps back and shut the door. Kisuke backed up into the hall and ruffled his hair, hoping he could pull off acting like he had just woken up. With one deep breath he walked out of the hall way, eyes instantly fixing on Ichigo. He met the chocolate brown eyes, nearly black in the lack of light in the shoten, and felt butterflies fill his stomach once more.

"K-Urahara? You're awake?" Ichigo asked, nearly calling the shopkeeper his first name. Ichigo could feel his cheeks growing warm at the thought of what he was planning on saying once he was sure that Kisuke was okay. "How are you feeling?"

Kisuke smiled one of his usual wide smiles. "I feel fine, Ich-Kurosaki-kun," he said, wincing internally at his own slip up. He wished for his hat and fan so that he could hide behind them. He was so uncomfortable without those two items.

Ichigo swallowed, knowing that if he didn't say something now, he never would. "Umm… Urahara… I have something I want to say…" he said slowly, his face burning.

Kisuke looked at Ichigo, blinking in surprise when he could faintly see that his face had turned crimson. "What is it, Kurosaki-kun?" he asked in as light of a voice as he could manage.

Ichigo met his eyes and stepped forward. "I… um… Well first thing, can you call me Ichigo instead of Kurosaki?" he asked, unable to force anything else out of his mouth.

Kisuke understood instantly and smiled, his face starting to grow warm. "Let me guess what you want to tell me," he said in a softer tone, closing the distance between him and the blushing teen in a few simple steps. He was finding his confidence again, the butterflies vanishing as he grabbed Ichigo's face in both his hands. He leaned down without another thought, kissing the teen on the lips.

Ichigo's eyes widened when Kisuke was suddenly there, and he was going to speak when then man had grabbed his face and kissed him. There was a moment where Ichigo couldn't move, and then he relaxed and leaned into the kiss, his hands grabbing onto the blonde man's shoulders and his eyes falling closed.

Kisuke smiled against the others lips, moving one hand down to the teen's hip, pulling him closer. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue out to lick Ichigo's bottom lip. When the lips parted, Kisuke pushed into the teen's mouth, enjoying exploring with his tongue. He moved his hand up to thread his fingers though Ichigo's short hair. After a minute, Kisuke pulled back to let the teen breathe.

Ichigo looked up into grey eyes happily, and a little bit uncertainly. He wondered if this was a dream, if he would wake up to another bodily issue he would have to deal with, and wish that it had been real. Either way he took the opportunity to lean against Kisuke's chest, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. He could feel sleep pulling at him, trying to force him into unconsciousness.

Kisuke looked down and met his chocolate brown eyes once more. He smiled and turned, pulling Ichigo with him toward the back of the shop. He wondered how long he could keep the orange haired teen before Isshin came looking for him. 'I guess I'll have to find out,' he thought to himself as a mischievous grin spread across his face.