Chapter Summary: Well, the time has come. The dreadful cold that Percival has been suffering is no longer his own. At least Vex'ahlia doesn't seem to mind at all, and her libido seems intact.
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 13 (mess)
Chapter 13 (low mess)
Features:
Contagion / contagion talk
Shared cold between partners
Spicy scene
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: The end! Sorry for the delay I had some IRL things to deal with. I hope you enjoyed, it was fun to write. :)
More boyfriend and my sneeze kink + his newfound slight sneeze kink
so almost a week after the previous event i talked about after he found out i had the kink, he got a cold. AND I MEAN THIS AS AN AVID COLDFUCKER, THE SNEEZIEST FUCKING COLD EVER. so heres some timeline of events
CW-CONTAGION MENTION
Wednesday, he comes to my house to hangout after class, is sniffling a bit and coughing a bit. By the time i'm driving him home, he's blowing his nose every few minutes and complaining that he can't breathe right. Made out and kissed like usual all day + i unknowingly gave him hickeys directly on where he had been sneezing on himself all day (his chest)
Thursday, he is over my place again and is complaining that he feels a lot worse. Stuffed up nose, his nose is red as hell, sniffling, coughing, tired, and now sneezing every few minutes. He makes absolutely ZERO attempts to cover and basically just pitches his head down towards his lap OR JUST MY TITS. Fell asleep cuddling with me in my bed. Insisted on making out with me, even though he had to stop to sneeze TWICE.
Friday, over his place for a grad party. He is a mess. His nose is absolutely, completely red and stuffed up. He's coughing harshly and every time he laughs, he coughs. He's sneezing every two seconds and blowing his nose constantly. Is so unhygienic too, tossing heavily used tissues literally everywhere and coughing into his sleeve. As well as sneezing openly. Also even more exhausted, as he fell asleep on my shoulder on the way home. He still insisted on kissing me and trying to make out with me and saying "it's just a cold! i'm fine!" (more like "id's just a cold-! i'mb fide!")
Saturday(today), feels the same as Friday. We didn't hang out today. Still coughing horribly, and blowing his nose every few minutes and absolutely soaking the tissues. Also still sneezing everywhere but a bit less tired.
Meanwhile- me on Saturday morning (this morning), woke up with a sore throat, hurts to swallow. Have a runny nose and am sneezing myself. Also definitely was having fever dreams last night and woke up sweaty as hell. I yelled at him for getting me sick but all he had to say was "You like that anyways."
I’m just thinking, cause ya boy hasn’t been feeling well lately, about the intimacy of someone looking into your mouth to check for a raw, red, sore throat.
Their thumb upon your lower lip, gently prying your jaw open. Maybe it lightly brushes or hooks over your bottom teeth.
Moving your head slightly to get better lighting, maybe digging out a flashlight just for this.
The little tisks of concern when it’s obvious your throat is inflamed.
The direct gaze into your soul as they give you the update, tell you to get back in bed.
The proximity, the gentle care, the attention, all the things I love!!
need a man to be so down bad for me, especially when I’m sick. I need him to be like, “Ohhh, baby, you’re feeling sick? Hm? Awww, you poor thing~” and give me puppydog eyes all day. likeee hello?? marry me????
A character has been coughing or screaming so long or so violently that their throat is raw with it, the sound literally tearing out of them with the coppery taste of blood and accompanying flecks of red.
A character finally released from the throes of a coughing fit that leaves them gasping for air, sagging against their pillows or their companion's chest, aching from the series of chesty, tearing coughs that ripped through them and lightheaded for want of oxygen.
A character wracked with the sort of full-body coughs that fold their body nearly in half with the force of them, rattling through their entire frame and shaking them with the recoil, each one like someone's landed a blow to their chest.
My god my husband is so sick right now. I’m losing my mind that he’s so far away. He’s sending me all these personal wavs of his drowning coughs and soupy sniffles and I’m in my own personal heaven and hell at the same time😭 yall he’s fucking praising me in these wavs and he can barely talk I fear I’m no longer on earth I have ascended
Ilya didn't think that this was how his week off with Shane would turn out. The men had been extremely busy with their careers for months, only meeting for sexual endeavours twice in the span of six months.
After both losing the cup to Florida, they both had enough free time for themselves. Luck had a wicked sense of humor, because unfortunately, Shane had come down with a nasty cold on what was supposed to be their first day of vacation at his cottage.
They had done the same last year and, of course, been caught by David. Maybe the cottage was cursed?
After three days of holding Shane over steam to help with his congestion, bathing Shane, and making sure that Shane was comfortable, it was obvious to Ilya that the other man was becoming.. jittery.
It started off with small gestures. Ilya would be taking Shane's temperature with an oral thermometer, instead having to halt the process because Shane was too busy trying to catch one of Ilya's fingers in his mouth. It would be waking up to warmth, a feverish Shane nuzzling at his neck, pressing little kisses to it. Extremely improper for his usually preserved boyfriend.
"How're you feeling? Any better?" Ilya asked after successfully pulling away from Shane's kisses to stand up from bed, something he's never had to do. Shane wouldn't be so jolly if Ilya got sick too.
Shane just whined in response, blinking over at Ilya from his side of the bed. From the look in Shane's eyes, Ilya could tell he was still feverish without even having to feel his forehead. Shane reached for Ilya's wrist, pulling him closer to the bed.
Ilya couldn't help but smile, kneeling back on the bed. "What is it, малыш? You need your medicine. Up."
"N'do," Shane frowned, shifting as he held Ilya's wrist. Shane was on his back, kicking off the sheets so he could spread out his legs with his knees bent. "Just — quickly? 5 m'bi'dnutes?"
Ilya stared, eyebrows shooting up. The sight of his Shane splayed out was certainly doing something for him. Fuck, it was so unethical. Shane was just feverish. This wasn't normal behaviour.
"Shane," Ilya sighed, trying to free his wrist from Shane's primal grip. "When you are better, yes? Not now. I've told you this."
Shane furrowed his brows, knees lowering slightly. He couldn't make sense of Ilya's rejection. Or multiple rejections, per se. "Why.. what? Did I do som'bethin'gh wrong?"
Ilya cocked his head at the question, silently cooing at how congested his boyfriend sounded. Ilya put his free hand on Shane's far knee, moving it to connect with his other to close his legs. "You can barely stand to shower, sick boy."
Shane made a weak sound of frustration in the back of his swollen throat, head falling down onto his pillow. Shane's expression of anger crumpled into one of desperation as Ilya watched Shane grab for his bedside tissues.
"Huh-tshhuh! Huhh'ts—NGGkxShhuh!" Shane had his little tissue grasped over his nose, thighs jolting open with each sneeze. Shane brought the now soaked tissue away from his nose, straining his waist to throw it in the trash can at the side of his bed that Ilya placed there for necessity.
Ilya hummed, perching next to Shane. "God bless," said Ilya, tone slightly marred with arrogance. Shane was clearly too sick for any erotic activity, he just proved it himself.
Shane made a crude sniffle, relaxing back into his prior position. "I tried to pre'bp — sndff! — while you sle'bpt. It'll be good, I pro'bmise.. I'm war'bmer inside. The fever," Shane rambled, subtly shifting his hips to rut against their sheets, catching a bit of the fabric between the solid muscle of his thighs.
"Fuck, Shane," Ilya breathed, voice coming out weak as he attempted not to let Shane's feverish confession nest inside of his brain. "I told you to rest last night."
"I k'dnow," Shane frowned, continuing to desperately rut against the useless bit of duvet between his thighs. "— and I did! I sle'bpt. But I needed to —"
"No," Ilya grabbed the duvet from between Shane's thighs, tossing it away from the boy. "You need to take medicine, that's it. Nothing else. Not this," Ilya made a vague gesture to Shane's dick. "— whatever this is."
Shane let out a dry sob of frustration, turning over with uncharacteristically sloppy movements so his face was now jammed against his pillow, ass up. It didn't help that Shane was only dressed in a pair of boxers.
It was so foreign to see Shane's movements be anything out of the little box he made himself, performed with thought and precision. On and off the ice.
"You're being ridiculous," Ilya hissed, his patience being tested. The teasing was getting to him, but Shane was so fucked up. Ilya could barely recognise this side of Shane. It was terrifying. It was exciting. "Get up."
"N'do!" Shane spat into his pillow, speech muffled by the thick cotton.
Ilya let out a big sigh. His right hand came up, delivering a swat to the exposed fat of Shane's ass. Shane jolted into their bed as if Ilya had physically thrust something into him, a broken moan leaving him.
Ilya furrowed his brow. Of course Shane liked that.
"Shane, you're being crazy," Ilya mumbled, putting his face in his hands. What would a mentally healthy person do given his current situation? Would they call someone? Shut this down completely? Probably.
"I'm no'dt crazy for wa'dnting to be fucked!" Shane cried into his pillow, adjusting his hips. His knees were probably already getting tired, for Christ sakes. Shane wouldn't be able to handle any physical activity.
"You're fucking sick, Shane," Ilya continued to mumble, patting Shane's calf that was visibly strained, arms shaking from where he held himself up on his elbows.
Shane made a little grunt into his pillow. "I'm no'dt crazy nor sick! You're sick!" the boy spat.
The words hit Ilya wrong. Sick? Ilya wasn't sick. Was that a jab at his mental health?
In a swift movement, Ilya got himself onto his knees behind Shane, positioning himself to loom over him. "Don't you ever call me sick."
Shane sniffled, bringing his head up for air, shaking his head to break the string of snot that was connected to his pillow from his nose. "Mmh.. Ilya, I didn't mea'dn —"
"Stop. You've done enough this morning," Ilya spat, subtly shaking his head. Was he being too mean?
Shane made a sad little hum, reaching back to tug down his boxers. The flesh of his ass was now visible for Ilya.
Ilya sighed, head down so he could see. "You don't deserve anything. I was going to, but. You're no good to me like this," Ilya said, lying through his teeth. Ilya's hands shoved Shane sideways, watching as the Canadian tipped with it.
Shane sniffled, getting himself back up on his elbows, ass jutted out once more. "No — no, please. I'm war'bm! Fever — please. Inside. I'll be good..! I'm good li'gke this," Shane rambled, pressing his ass back into Ilya.
Ilya held Shane's hips, giving his glutes a little squeeze. Sigh. Ilya's hands pulled down his own sweatpants, the material pooling at his calves.
"Yesyesyes," Shane sighed, sensing the movement behind him. "Fi'dnally."
Ilya hummed, taking in how sweet Shane was now that he was about to get exactly what he wanted. Ilya's hand halted, feeling the weight of his own dick in his hand as he finally got himself free. Fuck, the lube. They ran out of it from their last stay.
"I need to get lube, да? I think there's some, ehh.. in the couch somewhere," Ilya went to stand, his thigh getting grabbed instead.
"Don't leave!" Shane hissed, eyes wide as his head whipped right to look at Ilya. "Need you n'dow. Fuck, right n'dow. Fuck the lube."
Ilya grimaced, matching Shane's expression of shock. "Shane, that's.. not how sex works. You aren't woman, we need it."
"N'do," Shane whined. A word Ilya was coming to hear a lot today.
"Do you want sex or not, пчелка?" Ilya asked, attempting to maintain patience. Shane was making no sense.
"Use spit or somethin'gh," the other boy said, head ducking back down into his pillow.
Ilya sighed for the 50th time that morning, his hands rubbing up from Shane's ass to his spine, feeling Shane's ribs start to swell and deflate frantically under his hands.
"Hh.. hh.. hih.."
Before the idea could even become concrete in Ilya's mind, he was acting on it. Ilya grabbed Shane by the top of his hair, forcing Shane to bare his neck to his bed frame. Ilya cupped his hand over the lower half of Shane's face before any lube could be wasted.
"Hah'ktSHH! tTSHHXX! In'gsh! Ip'tsShhww.." Shane practically baptized Ilya's palm, head ducking down with each one. Ilya gave Shane's nose a squeeze, wringing him off and shoving the boys head back down before taking his hand back.
Ilya wasted no time, slathering the yellow gunk from his hand onto his dick. Ilya gave his dick an experimental stroke, using the leftover mucus to introduce his finger into Shane's hole. Ilya carefully worked his fingers into Shane one by one until the ring of muscles became relaxed, Shane's squeaks melting into comfortable moans.
Shane quietly whined with impatience under Ilya, his walls already fluttering under the pads of Ilya's fingers.
"Deep breath," ordered Ilya, lining himself up with careful precision.
Shane obeyed as usual, taking a deep breath. His lungs crackled with the inhale, his hole relaxing to completion. Ilya inserted his tip, and then his whole length at once.
"Oh, fuck, Shane.." Ilya breathed, finally understanding what Shane meant. The warmth of his boyfriend felt utterly different, a type of bliss he'd never felt before. Shane had always felt better than any of the girls Ilya had fucked, but this? This was elation in the form of a man. "So fucking warm, жук.."
Shane whined into his pillow, the flesh of his ass quaking with each thrust. The sensitivity that the fever brought naturally felt ten times more intense than it usually did for Shane.
Shane arched his back as his hips wiggled down a little, feeling Ilya in his lower abdomen. "Fu-u-u-u'gck! Fu'gck!"
Ilya felt a smile paint his face at Shane's broken curses, hitting the boy's prostate over and over again. Ilya groaned as he felt his balls grow tight, his orgasm coming faster than he had hoped. Ilya pulled out gently, painting Shane's back with the result of his pleasure. "Ah, Shane! Ooh.."
Shane crumpled at the same time, ruining the sheets beneath him as he spilled over them as he did his own stomach. Shane toppled into the bed as it was over, his body left trembling. Post orgasm bliss mixed well with a spiking fever.
Ilya panted, falling back on his knees as he recollected himself. "Fuck, that was good. You did good, Shanya," Ilya mumbled, leaning down to lick his mess off Shane's back. The temperature beneath his tongue surprised him. Ilya's hands rubbed at Shane's waist, massaging the dips.
"Let's get you in the bath, hmm? Да?" Ilya whispered against Shane's back, hands continuing their comfort.
Shane nodded into the sheets, producing a stuffy sniffle. "Mmh.. dirty.."
"Dirty," Ilya parroted in agreement, pressing kisses to Shane's back. "Dirty boy. Come, up."
Shane turned himself over, sitting himself up with little coughs. He winced as he felt lube slide out of him, lifting his thigh out of the way to see. He was sat beneath a little puddle of white and yellow.
"Wha'dt is tha'dt?" Shane rubbed at one eye, moving back to see the residue better. "Why's'it yellow?"
Ilya hummed, standing from the bed to stretch. "Lube. Come, bath."
"Where — I thought we ra'dn ou'dt," Shane babbled, eyes closing momentarily.
"Shh. Bath," Ilya explained, gathering some clean clothes for Shane out of his wardrobe. Ilya helped Shane wobble to his bathroom, sitting him down on the closed toilet seat.
Ilya ran the bath, pouring some dettol in that Shane kept in his cabinets.
"Need'a pee.." Shane mumbled, head down as he rocked himself on the toilet seat. Shane grabbed some of the toilet paper at his side, snagging some to his nose to produce a weak blow that sounded more like a baby elephant that was just realizing it had a trunk.
Ilya cooed quietly, drying off his hands in a towel. "Okay, up. I'll hold you?"
Shane nodded, moving to stand as he lifted the toilet seat up and shuffled down his sweats and underwear. His legs were still a little shaky.
Ilya came up behind Shane, taking Shane's tissue to wipe his boyfriend's nose himself. After disposing the tissue in the toilet bowl, Ilya snaked an arm around Shane's waist, resting his head on Shane's shoulder.
Shane relieved his bladder, leaning against Ilya as he weakly held his dick in one hand to direct the stream into the toilet bowl. "Mm, than'gk you. Real n'dice."
Ilya nibbled on Shane's shoulder, giving it a kiss. "Get naked, да? Bath."
Shane got himself undressed, weakly folding his clothes just to put them in the laundry basket anyway. He held onto Ilya's arm to step into the bath, lowering himself down.
Ilya crouched on the floor next to the tub, wiping Shane's back with a rag doused in soap.
"Cold," Shane complained, his features scrunched up.
"You have a fever, малыш. Is necessary for you right now," Ilya replied, wiping down Shane's bicep.
all of your hitches and gasps in between your sneezes are so blazing hot so I really am melting imagining you inducing relentlessly but still trying to announce every sneeze but like tripping over your words?? like saying you're gonna sneeze and apologizing and "watch out" and just trying to get it all out before the sneezes overtake you and FUCK I'm horny now lol
