Rotating a professor with a sick fetish and a hopelessly sick student.
They're having a virtual meeting, and the student looks much rougher than usual.
Where their hair is usually vivaciously curly, it lies lifeless and unwashed. Their lips are chapped so severely that the professor can see it, even with the poor quality of the student's laptop webcam. Their nose is bright red and rubbed raw. Used tissues surround them in their bed, and they have a blanket wrapped around them. They usually dress well, but now, they appear to only be in a thick hoodie, just the barest hint of thigh at the bottom of their camera.
The professor stumbles through their notes about the student's paper, altogether halting each time the student sneezes and having to compose themself as well as bless the student.
The sneezes are progressively messier and, half the time, uncovered. The professor feels faint watching the student pull their elbow from their face with strings of snot attaching them, the sound of the culprit sneeze still ringing like a siren in their ears.
It all comes to a head when the student releases a particularly loud, productive sneeze, snot slinging onto the camera. The student moans after the sneeze, and the professor stares, cut off mid sentence, at the disrupted camera view.
Driven mad, they consider reaching below their desk before remembering that the student can still see them, even if they can't see the student.
"Sorry," the student says as they wipe their camera with their sleeve, their voice nasally. "I've been like this all week."
All the professor can imagine is being there, bathing the student, washing their hair, feeding them, taking their temperature, making them sneeze more, helping them go to the bathroom—
"So what was the note about prepositions?"
At that, the professor continues giving their feedback. They ignore the persistent throb between their legs, unaware of the mirrored pulsing need of their student.