Original fic ft. my OCs! To be honest, l’m a little nervous about posting this—I’ve never posted anything with my OCs on here before—but I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope it’s interesting to someone :’)
I envision this to be the first (chronologically) in their series, so no context needed!
Summary: Yves needs a date to the party, and Vincent seems happy to play the part, for better or for worse. But a last-minute cold throws a wrench in their plans. - (ft. fake dating, heartbreak, a New Year’s party, and a cold)
—
Yves tries to be the bigger person about it, really.
He has every intention of never contacting Erika again. He thinks he never wants to speak to her again, and he certainly has no intention of doing anything in retaliation. Not that she would care if he tried. He tells himself he’ll take all of it in stride—the cheating, the breakup, her immediate engagement with Brendon—and never speak to her again.
The problem is that he and Erika were friends before they dated. The problem, really, is that they both know Margot, who’s throwing an end-of-the-year party—an annual occasion, and one which he promised her months back he would attend—and Erika is, without a doubt, going to be there with the very person she left him for.
The problem is, Margot knows he’s in town. He could take the easy way out—say he’s been called away last minute for some cousin’s wedding in Europe—and tell her he isn’t attending, and he’s half considering it when Erika texts him.
E: what are you thinking of getting for margot?
Yves thinks of ten responses to that, which do not exclude please do not ever contact me again and I’m definitely not going to the party if you are. Instead, he shuts his phone off, takes a run around the neighborhood, showers, makes breakfast. Then, against all better judgment, he texts her back.
Y: nice try. can’t have you stealing my idea
And he knows he should leave it. He knows that if he doesn’t show up to the party, everything will be fine, even if it means that Erika will get to tell her side of the story—frame her own infidelity in such skewed, oversimplifying terms that it will seem perfectly reasonable, and maybe even shift some of the blame to Yves in the process—to practically everyone he’d spoken to in university. It will be for the better.
But part of him is bitter. Part of him wants to show up to the party and show her just how fine he is, just how little he needs her. Part of him wants to show her that he hasn’t thought about her at all since the breakup. That he’s doing perfectly fine without her—or, better yet, that he’s better off now; even more ludicrously, that their breakup was one of the best things that’s ever happened to him.
It wasn’t. It isn’t. He misses her more than he’d like to admit. But he can’t help but think it would be nice to even out the score, for once, after everything she’s put him through.
It’s that train of thought that leads him to… well, drastic measures.
When I say my heart jumped around with insane amounts of happiness when I saw this I am not joking. Everyone left voltron and for some reason I just didn’t. I am very much into women but there is just something about Keith that GETS ME EVERYTIME! Why?!?!
There is absolutely no such thing as too many words or pages. I have very little to offer up in return here - masses of compliments? My undying love? My own very dodge and substandard attempts at sneeze fic? my firstborn child?
(Also I 150% understand if you want to keep to yourself and you were not serious - so no pressure AT ALL! I get too anxious anytime I go to post anything at all so there is literally no stress intended)
cw: sneeze kink content (duh), G/ojo has the kink, heavy on kissing/making out/foreplay type stuff/etc., a little nsfw towards the end
summary: G/ojo happens to catch his boyfriend sneezing openly (a rarity), and it’s doing things to him- things he can’t even begin to explain. Lucky for him, G/eto isn’t looking for any explanations.
notes: Yet another fic inspired by convos with @lycheeehehe because he’s always coming through with the best ideas!! >:) aka they gave me snzkink!G/ojo brainrot and I had to do something about it LMAO. I was gonna post this last weekend but I waited until my birthday because it brings me literal joy to share things with you guys!!!! It’s a gift to myself tbh uwu
And here I thought I could only write N/anami with the kink, but uh, well. Surprise LMAO. I don’t usually write G/ojo being so flustered but it’s very fun >:) and even more fun when you have G/eto being such a tease about it >:))) This whole thing is very self indulgent but I think that’s kinda the point when you give your characters the same kinks as yourself, right??? Enjoy <3
Fic Masterlist
—
“hH’NXxgt-!” Geto’s fingers fumbled to unzip his jacket as another sneeze stole his attention. He wished that would be the last, but no. He wasn’t done, nowhere near it. Damned allergies.
At the other end of the room sat the culprit to blame: incense. It had been actively smoldering when he got home, filling the living room with a pleasant aura; Geto put an end to that at the first itch on the roof of his mouth.
The damage was already done by then though, and now he’d be locked in a cycle of sneezes for who-knows-how-long. “What made you want to light that shit anyways?”
Gojo eyed him guiltily from where he sat on the couch. “Well, considering most of the candles we buy leave me-”
“Hih’gnxTCH-!”
“...like that,” he continued, “I thought incense might be better.” And it had been, for Gojo. Just his luck that one of very few scented things that didn’t set him off caused his other half trouble.
“Guess we can’t win.” Geto rubbed at his nose in frustration. “And I’m not even sure whether it’s the smoke or the scent or…” His words faded into another wavering breath, followed by another sneeze crushed into submission between a thumb and forefinger.
Gojo winced. “Bless you. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Geto mumbled. “It’s not like you knew.”
The scowl he wore was directed internally. Gojo knew that, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that some of his annoyance was directed at him. Even if he didn’t mean it, he was technically still a little at fault for his current state. And talking about it didn’t seem to be helping the tension. Maybe he’d better change the subject…
“How was the mission?”
“Not bad. Easy to exorcise, for a special grade.”
Gojo smirked. “But of course~ You’re the strongest curse user around.”
“Careful now. I don’t need that ridiculous ego of yours rubbing off on me,” Geto shot back.
“Heh, you’re right. It wouldn’t suit you.”
There was a beat of silence wherein Geto returned his attention to his still zipped jacket. “Honestly though, the building itself was scarier than the curses. Place looked like it could collapse any second.” He tugged his jacket off, tossing it on the recliner. Then, he reached up and freed his hair from its trademark bun, dark locks cascading and draping over his shoulders.
Gojo watched him, mesmerized. No matter how mundane, he was always enraptured by anything that man did. Geto was his obsession- no exaggeration.
His eyes eventually stopped on his chest. His long sleeve shirt was somewhat fitted, and with his arms above his head, his silhouette was all the more prominent beneath the fabric.
Geto caught his longing gaze. “Something on your mind?”
“Just you. All the time.”
Geto rolled his eyes. “God, Satoru. You’re so fuckin’ cheesy.” As Gojo continued undressing him with his eyes- and he knew that’s exactly what he was doing- Geto pondered the empty space on the couch next to him. Empty space which he could most definitely fill.
“You know, I could use a distraction from all of this,” he said, gesturing at the center of his face. The dull buzz of his sinuses warned of sneezes to come, but as long as they weren’t actively forcing their way out of him, he’d rather not give it any thought. Geto settled himself next to Gojo, close enough that his knees pressed into his leg. “Think you can help with that?” Congested as he was, the flirty quality of his voice rang through loud and clear.
Gojo perked up immediately. “Absolutely. Yes.” He was like a damn dog, jumping and panting at the opportunity to please Geto. Was it desperate? Perhaps. It wasn’t as if Geto left him deprived of anything, though. Gojo had nothing to be desperate for. In reality, he just couldn’t get enough of his undivided attention. Hell, he craved it. It didn’t matter where or when, he always wanted more.
And even if he wasn’t as obvious about showing it, Geto missed his touch when he was gone too. He relaxed into Gojo’s hands as they caressed either side of his face, thumbs tracing gentle lines from the corner of his eyes and down his cheeks. Geto closed his eyes. It could’ve lulled him right to sleep, if he let it.
But he was looking for more. After all, gentle touches weren’t quite enough to make him forget the way his nose still tingled, somewhere deep enough to lay dormant yet not quite leave him alone.
Wordlessly, he leaned in and kissed him. Gojo’s lips were pillowy, gentle against his own. Just like always.
Geto let him take the lead, and Gojo’s maneuvers were slow, yet hungry. That too, was just like always. Just the way he liked. All the tightness in Geto’s muscles started to melt, his weight pressing heavier into the cushion beneath him.
His skin pleasantly tingled as Gojo’s fingers tangled into his hair, skittering along his scalp. The resulting hum of approval melted into his mouth. Gojo shifted, dragging his legs up onto the couch and tangling them with his. His grip tightened in his hair, pulling. It was the equivalent of tugging a leash, dragging Geto closer to him, until he was in his lap- right where Gojo wanted him.
“Mmn…” Geto relaxed his jaw as Gojo’s tongue pushed past his teeth, another hum of approval vibrating in his throat. Geto’s hands found themselves knotted into his shorter, fluffier hair now, encouraging him further. Gojo bit at his bottom lip, practically wrestling with him. Just like always, and just the way he liked, again. Gojo knew all his little ticks, never forgot them. He would’ve stayed like that forever, if it were possible, but eventually they both had to breathe.
Gojo hovered at his lips, ghosting them. Their noses brushed. “I missed you,” he sighed.
Geto tried to reply, but speaking was a lost cause as the thing he’d been trying to forget about suddenly struck back with urgency.
He didn’t have the time to move his hands off Gojo and take hold of his nose, nor the composure to even think fast enough to try. The only warning he could give was a twitch of his nose and a softly gasped, “Hh-! Hold onh-! nH’GNSChh-!” He ducked his head down between them; it was all he could do to avoid sneezing all over Gojo. Suppressing the sound was another story, though. Even through gritted teeth, the expulsion was rough and intense. Nothing at all like how he usually would sneeze.
Gojo flinched. “Whoa. Bless you…” he managed to sputter out.
Despite it having been Geto who’d just sneezed, he found all air had rushed from his own lungs as well. His heart kept racing, nervously. And there was this fluttering in his chest, and his stomach, the kind he only felt when Geto sweet-talked him- or did anything swoon-worthy, really.
So why the fuck was he feeling it right now?
Geto never quite lifted his head. His nose scrunched, and his lips remained curled with that uncertain snarl. “hH-!” He gasped, and so did Gojo, quietly. Fuck, was he going to see that again?
Geto’s eyes fluttered, and as the tickle crested again, he managed to turn to the side. “Eh-excuse mehh, hiH-!” He tucked his head against his shoulder. “aH’SCHhhEUH-!” The second one had the same considerable violence as the first, if not more. Gojo found himself dazed beneath him. Again, he felt it, that excitement that could melt a man from the inside out.
He rarely ever heard Geto sneeze so openly, and certainly never saw it. Yet he suddenly had a front row seat to not just see, but feel the way they tore through his body. Honestly, how did he even manage to contain all that as often as he did? It was a complete contrast from those neatly contained fits he always brought on himself, under the illusion he had more control.
This was different. This was Geto without any control.
And it was…oh, it was doing something to him. Turning him on, why was it turning him on?
Bleary eyed, Geto managed to face him again. Gojo looked tense, he realized as he stared down on him. Had he scared him?
“Sorry,” he said with a sniffle. “Couldn’t get a hand up in time.” His face was dusted pink, embarrassed for having succumbed to not one, but two unintentional outbursts.
It…had felt good, admittedly, to let them go for once.
But he hated to do something so impolite, even if it was just the two of them. Sneezing in such a fashion was something he reserved for when he was completely alone. Or, less ideally, so overwhelmed he had no choice.
It wouldn’t happen again, he decided. They fell back into their original pattern of kissing and grabbing at each other. He couldn’t help but notice Gojo’s advancements had suddenly turned more urgent, needy. Not that it was something to complain about. That is, until his nose had more complaints of its own.
This time, he was prepared. Geto sat back at the first sensation, one hand braced on Gojo’s shoulder. His expression slackened, and Gojo’s eyes were like frozen pools staring up at him, unblinking. Yes, God, do it again. His heart beat seemed to crawl up his throat, threatening to choke him out, until suddenly, Geto’s free hand came into his frame of view. It rose to his face, hovering just under his nose. The anticipation twisting his gut was replaced with panic, and Gojo moved before he could even think.
“Suguru, wait-!” He grabbed his wrist, without even considering what it might mean before it was too late.
“Satoru-? Whhat the fuck are you doihng, hh…?” Geto struggled to get the words out as he willed himself not to sneeze.
“I…I just…!” Logically, he should’ve just scolded him, told him stifling like that isn’t healthy. It’s not like it would be the first time he’d lectured him about it; Geto would’ve been none the wiser. But no, any logical thought had been short circuited by whatever fucked up desire had suddenly posessed him. “Can you…do that again?” Gojo’s voice was little more than a whisper.
Perhaps it was silly to ask, considering the discomfort on Geto’s face said he was more than halfway there already. He managed to frown before his brow knitted in a more desperate arch. “Whh-what…? hih…!” He shook his head in a last attempt to stave it off, hand trembling in his boyfriend’s greedy grasp. “Hah-!” Gojo’s insides knotted with glee as his chest heaved with that final breath. “haHH’SSHEughh-!”
Fuck. It was a raw, unruly display. Geto was completely vulnerable on top of him, unable to hide or even try restraining the force. His body went rigid, legs gripping tight at Gojo’s waist to steady himself. Totally and completely bent to the will of his own body.
And then, suddenly he wasn’t. Geto snatched his hand back, briefly hiding his face in his sleeve to rub at his nose. He shot Gojo a look of annoyance. “You better have a good explanation for that.”
“That…thing you just did,” Gojo squeaked. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. It suddenly felt awkward, heavy on his tongue. Gojo signed heavily, trying to regain his composure. “I kind of…wanted to see you do it again.”
Geto narrowed his eyes, processing whatever he’d just suggested far longer than needed, what with the dull throbbing in his nose muddling his ability to think. “Sneeze?” he finally said. Heart in his throat, Gojo nodded. “You wanted to see me sneeze again?” Geto repeated. Looking at his boyfriend closer, he hadn’t seen him this visibly flustered in a long time.
Again, he nodded. “I don’t know why, but…seeing you lose control like that is, um…” he fumbled with his words. “It’s just really hot.” Ugh. Since when did he trip all over himself so easily? This was pathetic…
Geto blinked. “Really.” Gojo felt horribly exposed under his stare, as though he’d been pinned under a microscope. The floor next to the couch was suddenly very interesting. “You like it? When I sneeze like that?” Geto asked. Another nod. Gojo stared harder at the patterns on the rug. “Huh. That’s a new one.”
Gojo dared to meet his gaze again, only to find his face was calm, pensive. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
Geto’s eyes flickered with amusement. “I mean, normal would be a strong word. But I’m not going to sit here and judge you,” he said. Gojo sighed a breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. “And, I mean, if it’s really doing something for you, well…” He glanced over his shoulder. Ugh, was he really about to do this?
Yes, yes he was.
Gojo propped himself up when Geto crawled off of him. He sauntered across the room, to the table where the abandoned incense sat. “What are you…?”
Geto faced him again, this time with the holder in one hand, lighter in the other. A new stick of incense was perched in the holder. Was he…really…?
Geto reached over and behind Gojo, to the small table next to the couch. With Geto above him, he couldn’t sit up to look, but the sound of the lighter flicking to life was unmistakable.
“Suguru? Why are you-?”
“Why do you think?” Geto cut in. He hopped back on the couch and resumed his position in Gojo’s lap. “I’m not gonna keep sneezing if I let them out the way you like. That should keep me going, though.” He nodded towards the incense. Geto’s nose twitched as he watched the smoke lazily rise from the tip, already dreading the itch it would bring.
Gojo swallowed, mouth dry. “You don’t…need to do that if you don’t-” Geto silenced his protests by kissing him. His lips locked on Gojo’s with a deep, passionate weight, pressing him down into the couch until he felt the other man relax underneath him.
“I’m doing it because I want to, okay?” His eyes were stern and sincere as he looked at Gojo, thumb absentmindedly stroking his cheek. When Gojo said nothing, it occurred to him just how new this territory between them was. “Oh. Uh, unless you actually don’t…?”
“No, no. I do.” Gojo cut in quickly. “At least I think so?” If the butterflies in his stomach had anything to say about it, it was a solid yes, yes, and yes.
Geto nodded. With that settled, he restarted his previous endeavors. There was a noise of surprise in his throat when Gojo’s more passive behavior suddenly took a dominant turn. Gojo shifted his weight, forcing Geto to sit back. There was nothing neat or elegant about their makeout anymore. Gojo was forceful with his mouth, tongue, teeth, and all.
When they broke for air again, the lust in his eyes was undeniable.
“You really are worked up,” Geto murmured.
“Really? Didn’t notice,” Gojo joked. As Geto caught his breath, Gojo couldn’t stop himself. His lips trailed kisses from the corner of his mouth, down along his jaw until he reached under his ear. He nibbled at his skin, and it pulled a pleasantly shivery gasp out of Geto; music to his ears. Knowing he’d be gasping for other reasons any second now, Gojo needed little encouragement to continue gratifying him.
And he really didn’t have to wait much longer. He’d barely started biting and kissing at his lower neck before Geto jolted with a sharp gasp. And then another, and another. “Hah-! Hh…” He stiffened in Gojo’s hold.
“Don’t fight them,” Gojo murmured into his ear, impatient.
“I’m nhh-not, hih-! It’s just fucking with me…”
Gojo retreated to get a better look. And God, he loved what he saw. That uncertain knit of his brow, hazy eyes, and lips parted in wait for the next breath that Geto hoped would be the one. And his nose, God, his nose. He’d never noticed how…expressive it was. There was something subtly delicate about the slender bridge, and soft tip. His nostrils, though, were another story. They were erratic, twitching and pulsing around the tickle in a way that was anything but delicate. The longer he stared, the more it occurred to him that maybe this twisted fascination wasn’t just around the sneeze itself, but everything leading up to it.
And now he was blushing all over again.
Geto blushed too, feeling Gojo’s eyes burn through him in the midst of his control slipping away. That familiar point-of-no-return sensation gathered at the base of his nose, yet his body still hesitated to let it take over. He was too concentrated on keeping his hands where they were, on Gojo’s waist, as opposed to rising to his face to suppress what was coming.
“Suguru.” Gojo whined his name.
“I thi-hnk I’m…hh-!” Gojo felt Geto’s hands dig into his back. He shuddered as his hitching crescendoed again, and this time he let the teasing win, giving Gojo what he wanted. “Hh-! Henh’SSCHHhh-!” Finally. “Eh-! Eh’SHEUgHh-! Heh…”
“Bless you.” The words trembled as they fell from Gojo’s lips, borderlining on a moan.
“N-not done…hih-!” The wavering tone of Geto’s voice had his head spinning. He squeaked in surprise when Geto suddenly shifted his weight. His hips pressed hard into Gojo’s, and Gojo bit his bottom lip with a groan.
“Fuck…!”
Through squinted eyes, Geto drank in what he could of his boyfriend’s current state. Gojo huffed, his needy whine hanging in the air. He could feel that Gojo was getting hard, even through the fabric of all their clothes.
It was like a meal for his hungry gaze, watching Gojo squirm. Such a lovely sight couldn’t be wasted so soon.
He bit his tongue, fought to hold his breath. It was hard to ignore the scent of incense filling the air (and his nose), flowery and sweet, with a smokiness clinging to its edge. Tears welled in his eyes and his sinuses throbbed with aching need. But by the way that Gojo bucked up against him, his nose wasn’t the only thing throbbing with an aching need.
“Suguruuuu,” he whined. “Stop fighting them, please…”
Geto managed to swallow down the urge to hitch. “Aww, am I driving you mad?”
“Nngh…” All Gojo could do was groan, half out of frustration. And while it was driving him mad, the prolonged anticipation was driving his pleasure higher. Fuck, if he wasn’t completely hard before, he sure was now.
Geto shook his head like an animal as the urge threatened to take hold again.The sneeze would slowly build, and every time he successfully ignored it, it would only come back stronger. He sniffled, wetly, the entire length of his nose wrinkling. His resolve threatened to snap at any moment.
And Gojo wanted to make sure it did.
He took Geto’s face in his hands, forcing him to turn and face him. Geto’s eyelashes shimmered with unshed tears. His lips remained parted, and a shivery, ticklish gasp opened them just slightly further.
His eyes closed and those tears squeezed out of the corners, and down his cheeks. Gojo wiped them away, gentle, but his grip was firmer when it resettled under his jaw.
“Suguru,” he hissed. Geto’s expression trembled, desperate, and yet he was still fighting. Hitching. Flaring and twitching his nose, right in front of him. When the fuck did he get so good at this? “Suguru…” His name came out weaker the second time, as Gojo’s own desperation threatened to overwhelm him.
“Whh-what’s the mah-matter? Heh…” Speaking was becoming very difficult. He needed to sneeze, really needed to sneeze. The prickling was so deeply rooted in his sinuses that it felt like a pressure just waiting to explode out of him. His nose is starting to run too, threatening to drip down and catch at his upper lip. Honestly, what was the point in continuing with this? It wasn’t like he could keep his eyes open anymore to watch Gojo lose his mind…
He didn’t have to decide. Gojo decided enough was enough for him. One slender finger traced along the rim of one nostril. It quivered at his touch, and Geto hitched louder. He traced up the bridge before he tapped the side, once, and then twice, a little harder. Geto’s lungs swelled against Gojo with the most urgent gasp yet. “Heh-!”
He couldn’t even think to turn to the side. Geto sneezed suddenly, harshly, and violently. “hAH’NSCHhehh-! Eh-!” He can only briefly feel self-conscious of the spray emitted, directly at Gojo. Not that Gojo cared. His heart raced in his chest as Geto geared up for the next one. “EH’SCHHeuhH-! Hah’SHhEUhh-! Nn…” They threw him forward, nearly toppling him over onto Gojo.
“Bless you,” Gojo purred. His thoughts were fuzzy, drunk with exhilaration. “Those were really strong…”
“Were they? I didn’t notice,” Geto huffed sarcastically, completely out of breath. His nose buzzed unpleasantly, punishment for holding back. It was uncomfortable, in a word. But…
He shifted his hips. Gojo sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, eyes rolling.
“You seem to be enjoying it, though,” he finally said. Flushed from the neck up, Gojo nodded. “I like seeing you so needy.”
“Can you blame me? ” Gojo replied sheepishly. “Watching you fight them is…frustrating. But it’s also hot. Really hot.”
“Hm, noted.” Geto wriggled on top of him again, grinding against him. Gojo’s toes curled, and his fingers dug into Geto’s back. The heat between his legs was unbearable, begging to be taken care of.
“Suguru…” he whined.
Geto smirked, although it looked a tad out of place with his red, dripping nose, bleary eyes, and disheveled hair. “So worked up. Maybe it’s better we continue in the bedroom?”
“Please.”
“C’mon then.” Geto moved smoothly as he got off the couch, as if he hadn’t just sneezed a few years off his life. Still dazed, Gojo found his footing more unsteadily. Geto held him at the waist as he planted a kiss under his ear. “Grab the incense, won’t you? Unless you don’t think you can handle any more.”
His face was painfully smug as he turned away towards their bedroom. Honestly, it was a fair question at this point. Could he handle more of that? Okay, yes, he could, but it might kill him at this rate. At least he could go out on a high note.
“Heh, wow,” Gojo ran a hand through his hair, almost laughing to himself. He still had no idea what they were doing, or why. There was no explanation for any of it.
And yet, why was he still looking for one, besides to satiate his own confusion? None of it seemed to matter to Geto. He only wanted to pleasure him, and not even just because he felt obligated. From the way he was teasing him, he seemed to be having just as much fun with this as Gojo.
It was all just a reminder that he’d gotten lucky as hell with him, in the end.
To hell with all the questions. Better grab the incense.
take my b//uddy d///addies fic!!!!
tags/warnings: SNEEZE FETISH!! (rei is the star), sex scene (nothing graphic), some mess (nothing graphic), drugs mention, allergies, pre-canon
words: 3077
read below, or clean version on ao3 :)
-
Kazuki watches Rei’s upper body go taut before trembling in place once, twice, three times, and then a fourth before he slowly exhales. There isn’t even a gulp of sound to it, which is pretty impressive given the intensity behind the…
Well, he can’t call them outbursts, technically. More like very uncomfortable, unhealthy implosions. But it’s not his job to tell the guy how to sneeze. Probably.
“Uh,” Kazuki says instead, “bless you? Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah,” Rei replies, flat and breathless, the first intentional noise he’s made since getting into the passenger seat ten minutes ago and confirming that it would be Kazuki driving them home.
He sniffles once, watery and graphic.
“Warn me next time,” he says. “About a job like that.”
“What?” Kazuki says. “We work jobs like that all the time – It was a quick target on private property, barely took us twenty minutes.”
In the dark, Rei sighs like he’s annoyed. Kazuki thinks backward and concludes that he hasn’t done anything particularly annoying, which means Rei must be annoyed with himself.
“The Japanese cedar in Nagano,” Rei says, a brief, ticklish cough pushing itself through the middle of his sentence. “I’m allergic.”
“What?” Kazuki says again, then allows himself to proverbially chew on the revelation, recalling the way Rei’s posture had changed as soon as they left the city and drove out past the mountains. Their idle chatter had declined and Rei had separated himself from Kazuki more swiftly than he usually does, and while he had maintained perfect precision down to the final shot, he’d taken longer to meet back up with Kazuki at the car.
The address had been on their assignment papers, but Kazuki had suspected that Rei doesn’t always read those.
“Does Kyu know?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Kazuki stares ahead so as not to veer the car off the road as it curves sharply around the mountain. “Okay, uh, then why would he send us to–?”
“It’s fine. I have something I can take for it,” Rei says. “I just … hk’tschh! ihTSSch’u! … need to know ahead of time.”
“Sure, yeah,” Kazuki agrees readily as Rei scrubs at his eyes. “I’ll remember that, too. Where does Japanese cedar grow, exactly?”
Rei sighs. “Everywhere.”
“Everywhere,” Kazuki repeats flatly, used to his partner’s unhelpful hyperbole. He listens to Rei blow his nose into the travel tissues from the glove compartment for the rest of the drive down.
His inspection the next morning proves that Rei wasn’t lying about a secret stash of allergy meds. There are three boxes in the back of their first aid drawer, two of them unopened and the one on top half-full. There’s a tinted bottle of pills next to them, which Kazuki is holding up to the light for inspection without considering whether meddling is a good idea.
“Huh. You weren’t kidding,” he says.
“Put those back,” Rei tells him. His expression depicts something vaguely unsettled, but the somber edge to his tone only feeds Kazuki’s curiosity.
“Why? What are these? There’s no label.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t you think I should know?” Kazuki challenges, lowering the bottle and making eye contact. “I mean, in case you run out or something? Are these even for your allergies, or is there another health condition nobody was telling me about?”
“Calm down,” Rei says. “They’re stimulants.”
“Oh,” Kazuki says. He’s seen enough controlled substances to recognize instant-release as he holds the bottle closer to his face and shakes it around. “Amphetamines?”
“Uh. Yeah,” Rei replies. “Low dose. For the side effects.”
Kazuki slides the bottle back in the drawer with a placating grin and actually feels a little bad for the guy.
“Sure, sure,” he says.
“I’ve been taking them since I was a kid,” Rei continues, and Kazuki suddenly feels as though he’s poured too much tea into a cup and caused it to overflow. “I see the look on your face. It’s not a big deal.”
It’s just – that’s kinda dark, isn’t it? Kazuki doesn’t necessarily like the idea of a kid taking illegal, black-market substances so that he can be a better shot.
But it makes sense, like the other slivers of Rei’s childhood Kazuki occasionally manages to come by, and antihistamines aren’t important enough of an issue for him to bother pushing it. Their job is dark, Rei’s talent is dark, and the history that honed a talent like that on such a young man is obviously going to be dark, too.
“Sure it isn’t,” Kazuki answers in surrender, shutting the drawer and moving to the kitchen. Rei keeps a suspicious eye on him before assuming his own post in front of his laptop on the couch. “Mackrel’s almost done, so don’t go anywhere!”
“No leeks this time,” Rei demands blandly.
“They were on sale!”
“It’s been three days. I’m sick of leeks.”
“They’re good for you, Rei!”
Rei huffs, and for the first time today, Kazuki feels like he’s won.
-
The intel fades from Kazuki’s mind pretty quickly. Hay fever isn’t actually that big a deal, all things considered; a lot of people get sniffly when the flowers start to bloom in the spring, and Rei seems to have a handle on what most of the population considers an innocuous non-issue of a situation. It’s not like he’s going to somehow blow their cover in the middle of a job. He’s obviously lived this long without a life-ruining debacle, pollen-related or not, so Kazuki decides not to bother him about it when he hears Rei sneezing just once from the couch two days later.
It’s nothing short of his usual: an urgent gasp, followed by a crumpled-up, squeaky grunt, and then a frustrated little noise off the tip of his tongue. Equal parts subdued and dramatic, like Rei himself.
“hhH’KGXT!jh…”
The sounds from the TV suggest that Rei hadn’t even paused his game for it. Impressive, but not surprising. Kazuki doubts he’s even still conscious that it happened, it’s so dismissable.
But a careful, placid commentary falls out of him anyway.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” Rei says immediately. There’s a quick, dry sniff. More video game noises. Nothing interesting or worth paying attention to at all.
So Kazuki tries not to, but success doesn’t stick to him for long.
-
It happens again further into the week, this time while they’re having sex.
The surrounding circumstance, once again, is pretty routine. It isn’t their first time doing something like this with each other. For Kazuki it’s a way to blow off steam, especially after working a role that gets him riled up with no release. Today’s assignment had been one of those, his only task being to flirt with some mistress for information on a bigger picture, and the way she’d pressed herself up against him had really made it difficult not to take the gig further than he was supposed to.
Or at least it should have. Knowing Rei was back at home made it easy to end things once he’d finished off his third beer and gotten what he needed from the woman on the stool next to him. She’d looked disappointed when she realized he was taking off, but Kazuki couldn’t get himself to care.
He and Rei barely exchanged a dozen words before they were in Kazuki’s bed with their shirts off and pants undone.
They aren’t kissing, but the nature of their positions has their faces close enough for Kazuki to smell the shampoo he’d bought for Rei a few weeks ago. It wafts further toward him as Rei’s head snaps down abruptly, throwing his hair in front of his eyes and past Kazuki’s nose.
Rei’s shoulders scrunch up with a sudden, sharp, “hihTZSCH’iu!” that seems to take him by surprise. It must, because he doesn’t even bother to direct it off to the side like usual.
In his defense, it’s impossible to cover his mouth with his wrists pinned down, and the result sprayed across both of their chests is a natural consequence of…
“ihtKZSHh-!”
That one’s a little more bitten off, but he’s not able to keep it to himself like he obviously wants to. And for some reason, Kazuki doesn’t really mind.
Fleetingly, he thinks it must be because he’s used to dealing with the general byproducts of Rei. Cigarette smoke, candy wrappers, stray wiry strands of black hair sticking to Kazuki’s clothes, messy blankets when he naps on the couch and wet footprints after he takes a bath. He doesn’t remember when it stopped bothering him so much, but at some point it must have, because a normal person would be a little bit put-off at being sneezed on.
“Fuck—” Rei says, sounding more angry than embarrassed, but Kazuki interrupts because he apparently isn’t a normal person when Rei is involved.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, because Kazuki is bothered at the idea of stopping what they’re doing. He resumes sliding off his jeans and accidentally makes eye contact, recognizing the confused surprise on the edges of Rei’s features.
He blinks at Kazuki and schools his expression, then says, “Okay. Keep going, then.”
They keep going and Rei’s athletic shorts make proper acquaintance with the floor on top of the nest of denim awaiting them. He’d actually thrown them down like he was mad at them. The hair on his legs is sparse and soft as he wraps them around Kazuki’s calves.
Kazuki grins, satisfied, and grinds closer in accordance with their routine. Sex is easy. Straightforward. Reliable. He prepares himself to bask in the faultless indulgence of it.
It’s pretty easy to do. Rei’s no expert, but he’s obviously familiar with male anatomy and much less selfish in bed than Kazuki had initially expected.
And he’s nice to look at, which has always been more than enough for Kazuki.
He tries to keep from losing himself in Rei as they move together, but more and more, he’s impervious to distraction until Rei jerks beneath him for a reason other than pleasure.
“hih’TSSh! –TZSSh’u!”
He kind of aims away this time, leaving a faint mark on his shoulder and the sheets beside him, but there’s no avoiding the aftermath that ricochets onto the side of Kazuki’s bicep.
“Heh. Bless you,” Kazuki says with a grin, nice and smooth and playful like he would if this were an easy hookup with a stranger, reassurance that he’s enjoying himself even at the expense of the other person’s dignity.
It feels different this time, though.
“I…” Rei starts to say, but his gaze unfocuses again and he grabs hold of Kazuki’s hand and tries to tug it away. Kazuki grips him tighter and Rei shakes his head. “ht’IHSZH’oo!”
Rei sniffles afterward and something clicks the wrong way in Kazuki’s body, because there’s a bizarre sort of thrill mixed with an urge to take care of this guy, and he doesn’t know which feeling he’s supposed to lean into. Which feeling he wants to lean into.
“Ugh. Let go,” Rei says. “Something’s wrong.”
Kazuki wants to challenge him like usual, but he releases Rei and leans back, giving him room to sit up and reach for one of the tissues on the nightstand that Kazuki rarely uses.
He doesn’t even make it in time, hand hovering near the box when he needs to twist away near the headboard with his forearm covering the lower half of his face.
“IHTSHh’yeu!” Another sniffle, and then he finally gets to the tissues, wastefully grabbing two of them and pressing them against his face. “hehIHZSH’OO!”
Kazuki has never heard Rei make a sound so exuberant. He’d consider it out of character if it wasn’t so like Rei to be this annoyed at having to sneeze a few times. He doesn’t have much tolerance for discomfort.
“Fuck,” Rei comments once he’s blown his nose, now holding the tissues in a wrinkly ball near his face like a shield braced for an onslaught of bullets. “What is that perfume?”
Without thinking, Kazuki says, “What are you talking about? What perfume?”
“Your…” is Rei’s breathy attempt to explain himself, before he rolls his eyes and hits the mattress before gasping and folding himself in half. “HihTZSH’u! It’s all over you.”
That’s right! The lady from before!
Well… whoops. Kazuki had kind of forgotten about her.
“Oh, shit.” He honestly hadn’t realized, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have predicted it’d be an issue. He grabs a tuft of his bangs and fluffs it up, sniffling the air in front of his face as it falls with a cloud of fragrance. “You’re allergic to it, aren’t you?”
Rei rolls his eyes again, at Kazuki this time instead of his own immune system.
“hhIHTsh’iu! Yes,” he says. “Jesus, don’t do that.”
Through a sheepish smile, Kazuki says, “Right. Sorry. Bless you.”
Rei blows his nose again. Kazuki doesn’t reach out to rub his back or anything, but he does click his tongue at the piteousness of it all. Rei is a dichotomy of heartbreaking helplessness and fierce competence, and the former is on eye-catching display right in front of Kazuki.
He feels the same pull as always: to do something about it, to take control and fix it while Rei passively waits and watches.
“Your meds are in the other room, I’ll go get—”
“Don’t bother,” Rei says. “It’ll knock me out. And I can’t get it up if I take the stimulant. It’ll just waste the day.”
His consonants are thick and fuzzy, which Rei must also notice because he blows his nose again and groans.
“All right, how about this,” Kazuki says patiently. “I’ll start a load of laundry, go rinse the rest of this out in the shower and you step outside and get some fresh air. C’mon.”
He rocks himself off of the bed and takes a fresh t-shirt out of his closet. Rei catches it without looking when Kazuki throws it his way.
“iehTSSH’ioo!” And then sneezes into the collar as soon as he’s pulled it over his head, despite the used tissues in his hand and fresh ones in the box right next to him. He pulls out a couple more and scrubs underneath his nose while Kazuki tries not to feel whatever the hell he’s feeling when he realizes Rei is wearing his clothes. “Get the – hahISHHiuh! – the name of that stuff so we can avoid it.”
Kazuki really doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do that. Find the woman whose john they’re about to off just so he can find out which version of Dior she was wearing six days before he pushed up daisies?
He can take other precautions, though, so he asks: “Are you allergic to anything else?”
Rei stares at nothing for a moment before drawing a slow breath, gasping, and then pressing his too-many tissues hard against his septum and rubbing it back and forth. His eyes are wet.
“Talk to me about that later,” he says with a fierce, crackly sniffle. “Go ahhhhnd… hihTSSSh’uh! shower until you smell like yourself again. This is too ridiculous.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Kazuki concedes. He gathers up their clothes in preparation for his newfangled storm of chores, leaving Rei sitting on Kazuki’s bed, wearing Kazuki’s shirt, sneezing into Kazuki’s tissues and evoking a bizarre sense of possessiveness that Kazuki can’t shake from the dregs nor the edges of his mind.
-
“It’s just pollen, I think,” Rei says once they’ve actually resumed and finished and cleaned up, once Kazuki has managed to feed him some decongestants because despite Rei’s insistence, they did have a stash on hand since the last time Kazuki stocked up just in case, once they’d resumed their respective positions in the common area where everything was familiar and comfortable. “And whatever was on you before, I guess. There’s really no way to figure out what it was?”
He seems kind of anxious about it.
“I mean,” Kazuki says absently, only half-serious as he rummages through the cabinets for dinner inspiration, “we could go to a department store and sample different bottles until we recognize it?”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Even if we did figure it out, I don’t really know how we’d go about avoiding it.” Kazuki finds a bottle of curry spice and sets it down. That’s an option. “It’s not like we can go around checking what kind of fragrances people will be wearing. Maybe you could start wearing a mask?”
Rei grimaces. “Not doing that either.”
“I don’t think it’s worth stressing about,” Kazuki says. “After this job, I doubt you’ll run into it again. You haven’t until now, right?”
“I don’t like being caught off guard.”
“I noticed.”
“It’s annoying. It gets in the way.”
“At least you’ve got something you can take for it, right?”
“More or less. But still. It can be dangerous.”
“Yeah, I guess you were sorta…”
“And it happened twice this week. Maybe I should have told you before. Sorry.”
“Uh…”
And there’s that sensation again, the cup spilling over. And just like he’d do in any other situation, Kazuki rushes to wipe up the excess damage that he’s done.
“It’s really fine,” Kazuki says. “I mean, I know now, so I’ll just keep an extra eye out for the pollen counts and whatever. Your breathing doesn’t get messed up or anything, does it?”
“Do you mean like, asthma? No,” Rei says, shifting on the couch. “Not for a long time. Probably at least ten years.”
“Okay. What about air purifiers? Do you have anything like that?”
Rei groans, and Kazuki is half-satisfied that he’s back to himself and half-irritated that he’s about to be uncooperative.
“It’s fine,” he says. “I just sneeze for a few hours and then sleep for the rest of the day, if I’m not working.”
“That sounds uncomfortable,” Kazuki comments. “I’ll get one on my way back from the market.”
“You…” Rei clears his throat. “You don’t have to do that.”
Kazuki shrugs, even though Rei isn’t looking at him. “Not like we can’t afford it. You don’t like clean air?”
“Seems like you do.” Rei stares ahead at his ashtray, squinting at its emptiness. “You’re going to be weird about this.”
“I think you secretly like it.”
What Rei does like is shutting Kazuki down using as few words as possible. So when he hums absently in response instead, Kazuki holds the victory close to his chest.
Figuratively. Because that’s all he can do for now.
Here’s an alternate version of Stoic Character Syndrome
Instead of denying to the ends of the earth that they are sick, they are completely blasé.
For example
A: “you sound terrible! Are you coming down with something?”
B: “I have a cold”
A: “I didn’t actually expect you to admit that”
B: “Why? It’s just a cold. Everyone gets colds”
But then it becomes clear that they have no intention of slowing down or resting. Just grabbing tissues or a handkerchief and getting on with it, they mightn’t even bother with medicine.
Sneezes that overlap…in the midst of a fit, when the irritation is too strong, they erupt one on top of the other, with no breath, not even a fleeting exhale, in between.
thinking about someone who’s sick acting kinda cranky and having no idea until a friend/coworker hits them with a “jeez, what’s up with you today?”
cue belated self-awareness and a mildly embarrassed apology as they dodge the q and pretend they don’t know what could’ve affected their mood. the other person takes that at face value at first, but then increasingly less so as the day wears on and the other’s cold becomes more and more apparent
I’m a slut for the trope where someone with a cold agrees to go camping with their S/O or friend (ESPECIALLY IF THEY HATE CAMPING) but wake up the day of the trip with the worst cold in the world. They still go on the trip but spend it miserable because it’s raining and cold and they’re sick and they rarely venture out of the tent. And instead of going out and hiking like they planned their SO/friend just sits with them and pets their hair while they wait for the rain to let up to go home.
There is something about someone sneezing while it's dark but with others around that's just super intimate. Like in the movie theatre or actual theatre when the lights have gone all the way down, or lying in bed just before sleeping? Whether it's a platonic thing or not just it being quiet and completely dark so it sort of breaks the atmosphere and all the sounds are just so hyper focused and everyone is aware of it and just gah
I mean the bedroom one can happen while spooning or something but that's a post for another day
I’m also weak for “I knew you weren’t feeling well yesterday when _____!”
-your music was too quiet
-you ordered a salad instead of a greasy hamburger
-you fell asleep in your shoes and coat
-you went to bed instead of watching your favorite show
-you turned down dessert
-you let me drive you home instead of walking
-you were drinking tea instead of coffee
Just teeny things a caregiver notices in retrospect are good good good
