1.Allergic 2.Desperation 3.Cat 4.Summer 5.Itch 6.Light 7.Hands 8.Fever 9.Finally Alone 10.Worried 11.Broody 12.Loud 13.Grass 14.Genetics 15.Control 16.Dinner for Three 17.Doctor 18.Dust 19.Feather 20.Anticipation 21.Bed 22.Drugs 23.First Time 24.Headache 25.Handkerchief 26.Dog 27.Garden 28.Hoarse 29.Kink 30.Scent 31.Hold Back 32.Double 33.Harsh 34.Smoke 35.Making Dinner 36.Impatience 37.Incense 38.Horses 39.Pillow 40.Suffer 41.Nervous 42.Stare 43.Contagious 44.Relief 45.Temperature 46.Terrible 47.Wool 48.Tissues 49.Tease 50.Quarrel 51.Lonely 52.Snuggle 53.Asleep 54.Waiting 55.Frost 56.Rest 57.Flu 58.Phone Call 59.Apologize 60.Sore 61.Accent 62.Fur 63.Haze 64.Spices 65.Under the Weather 66.Stifle 67.Frustrated 68.Caught in the Act 69.Attack 70.Listless 71.Pressure 72.Muffled 73.Annoy 74.Humiliated 75.Disproportionate 76.Bath 77.Spring 78.Message 79.Headcold 80.Clinic 81.Confess 82.Tears 83.Dream 84.Polite 85.Sniff 86.Shower 87.Induce 88.Jealousy 89.Pills 90.Interrupt 91.Chill 92.Office 93.Remedy 94.Weird 95.Soft 96.Purr 97.Honey 98.Defeat 99.Smother 100.Gratitude
(Original Characters, M/F)
“You can’t be allergic to me. That’s impossible.”
Holding a clump of tissues to his nose, “I’m a-allergic to ev-everything. Hah-Shoo!”
“Maybe it’s my perfume.” She pulled off her scarf and draped it over a chair.
“Hah-hashooo!” He nodded around the sneeze.
“Maybe it’s something on my clothes?” She kicked off her shoes. “Dirt?” Off came her stockings. “Pollen?” She unbuttoned her blouse. “Cat fur?” She slid her skirt down. “Dust?” She stood in front of him in only matching bra and panties. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t mind if you… don’t-hahshoo!” And he went to her.
(Harry Potter, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood)
“heh-heh-hehhh-hah-hehhh-have t-to sneh-eh-hehh! Snee-heh-hehh-snee-eh-heh-ehhhh-sn-eh-sneeze!”
“Do you, Perce?”
Percy had to sneeze far too badly to be irritated by Oliver’s playfulness. “N-need a-hehhh-heh-hehh-ehhhh-han-hah-keh-hankie.”
“Like this?” Oliver held one up, dangling it by the corner. He pulled it away as Percy made an urgent grab.
“Oliver! I-ehhhh! Hehh-HEH-EHH!” Percy scrubbed the side of his hand under his nose forcefully and repeatedly. “I-ehhh-HEH-need-EH-need-HEHH!”
Oliver knew Percy wouldn’t sneeze unless he had something proper. Using his hand or sleeve was out of the question. “Here.”
There wasn’t time to take the handkerchief. Leaning forward, he buried his nose in the folds. “Eh-TSHUMmmphhhhh! Excuse me.”
(Harry Potter, Severus Snape)
The dungeons were freezing. He’d made a spot for himself on his couch with blankets, tea, and tissues. But he still shivered.
Smokey’s emerald eyes looked up at him. Snape patted the blankets. “Ub. Cub od.” With his nose so stuffed, a levitation spell would be dangerous. “Ub, Sbokey.”
She watched until his arm grew too tired to continue. Then she jumped. Immediately she began kneading into the blankets, purring.
His cat was heavy and warm and, finally, he did not feel quite so miserable.
Smokey bolted from the room. Snape leaned back against the pillows, shivering and sniffling.
(Supernatural, Sam & Dean)
“A farmer dies on his tractor. In an Illinois lake.”
“Ragweed’s terrible there.”
Dean continued skimming through news reports. “A couple found dead in their house in Richmond where a couple was murdered same day last year.”
“Richmond, Virginia? The worst city in the country for allergies?”
“Right…” Dean sighed. “A Memphis—“
“Are you trying to kill us? Ih-ih-HIHTChhh!” Sam snuffled into a tissue then threw the box to Dean. “We’re staying right here with windows closed until ragweed season’s over.”
“Nah, we’ll be fi-fi-iiii-Ktschhhhh!” Dean took a tissue. Reluctantly, “We’ll be fine if we stay here.”
(BBC Sherlock, Sherlock)
The way the itch lodged itself at the bridge of his nose was fascinating. Unless he took action, he would sneeze. So Sherlock slid his hands into his pockets.
The grandfather clock said it took nearly two minutes for the itch to transform into an overwhelming buzz throughout his nose. When it reached his nostrils, it became a sharp prickle.
His breath caught immediately, but it was another torturously long minute before the urge commanded him to sneeze.
“Ha-haShixxxshhh!” Wetter than Sherlock had expected, he pressed his handkerchief to his nose. But, as he did, he felt another itch arise.
(Horatio Hornblower, Horatio)
“Over here, Sir!”
On watch, Horatio hurried over to the bow where someone beckoned him. “What is it?”
“Light, Sir!” Turning, the lantern in hand illuminated Styles’ face and caught Horatio’s eyes.
The light caused an urgent prickle in Horatio’s nose. “hitchoo!” He touched one gloved hand to his nose and used his other to lower the lantern.
“Sorry, Sir. But I swear I seen something just ahead.”
Horatio narrowed his eyes. A steady dot of light was there one second and gone the next. “Lighthouse,” Horatio said. “Land!” He turned to Styles with more urgency. “Better wake the captain.”
(Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Coulson)
Agent Coulson stared at the handkerchief clutched in his right hand. He hadn’t gotten used to this new left hand. It clenched and unclenched repeatedly, subconsciously. He didn’t trust it around the tablet. This might have the answer to getting Simmons back.
Problem was, the tablet seemed to have been kept in a vat of sneezing powder. “ahhh-KIHSchhhhhh!” Or a pepper mill. “ahh-ahhhKGIHShhhhhh!” Wearily, he dabbed at his nose and wiped at his eyes.
He took a moment, thinking of all he had lost. Then he pressed the hankie to his nose and went back to deciphering the tablet’s markings.
(Star Trek reboot, Kirk)
“Do you not think it would be wise to go to sickbay, Captain?”
“Are you ill?”
Spock cocked his head. “I do not fall ill.”
“That makes two of us.” When Spock returned to his station, Kirk rubbed the back of his neck, stifled a sneeze into his arm, and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, Bones was there with a medical tricorder and a hand on Kirk’s forehead.
“You’ve got a high fever, Jim.”
Kirk looked accusingly at Spock, who shrugged. “It was logical. If you will not go to sickbay, sickbay would have to come to you.”
9. Finally Alone
(Star Wars, Qui-Gon Jinn)
The council meeting had gone on too long. Too long even if you didn’t have a miserable cold and an erection due to it. Thank goodness for Jedi robes that concealed all. Snuffling into his sleeve, Qui-Gon fell into bed. His padawan would be in class for another hour, which left plenty of time for Qui-Gon to either rest and take care of his ailment or to plunge his hand into his leggings and take care of his cock.
Naturally, Qui-Gon did the latter. He stroked leisurely, not breaking his rhythm once even when a sneeze found him. “uh-eh-UHKTshooo! UhhhShoo!”
“You worry too much, Boss. It’s just a cold.”
So Tony said, but he wheezed between sentences. Ever since the plague, a cold had not been just a cold. And as he watched Tony cough and sneeze, all he could think was that Tony shouldn’t be at work. But he needed Tony. He needed someone watching his six. He needed someone tracking down leads. He needed someone making inappropriate comments when he thought Gibbs wasn’t there to hear.
All right, he didn’t need that last thing. Above all, though, he wanted Tony well.
“Take the day off, Tony."
(Fraction’s Hawkeye, Clint & Barney)
“eh-H’ngchh!” Scrubbing his nose with two fingers, Clint looked up and was startled to see Barney staring at him, apparently waiting for an answer. Clint shrugged. He’d been shrugging a lot lately, because he’d been missing a lot lately.
Nothing mattered anymore. He couldn’t hold onto anything or anyone. The building’s residents’. Women. Kate. His dog. His hearing. “ehh-NGTch!” His heath, apparently. Does not matter. Everything gone. He signed.
Barney grabbed his arm to get his attention before signing, Matters. I’m still here. And then he finger-spelled B-R-O.
The second Clint saw this, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Arthur whirled around, eyes wide. “Quiet! Do you want the dragon to hear you?” he hissed.
Merlin scrubbed his nose into his shoulder, shaking his head as he did. The dragon couldn’t possibly hear him; he’d had a conversation with it last night when Arthur was asleep and it was miles away by now, no danger to Camelot or them. Ill, Arthur was in no state to take on a dragon.
“AHH-HAHHH-AHHH-AHHH-URHSCHHKKKHHHHHH!” At Arthur’s loud sneeze, birds flew off, squirrels scattered.
Merlin smirked, briefly, before his own cold caught him again. “ehksh!”
“Merlin!” In a huff, Arthur marched onward.
(Lord of the Rings, Faramir/Eowyn)
“Keep sniffling and it’s right back to the Halls of Healing for you.”
From his back, Faramir gazed lazily up at the clouds. “The flowers and grass tickle my nose, and you know it.” He reached out for Eowyn’s arm and received her instead, rolling over in a flourish to sit on top of him.
She twirled a blade of grass between her fingers. “Tickle, you say?”
“Don’t,” he warned.
But she did. Teasing and twirling gave way to tickling and twitching.
“Don’t, I’ll-heh-I’ll-heh-Ttttschhahh!” He sat up partially as he sneezed then fell back upon the grass with another sniffle.
(Stargate Atlantis, Rodney & Carson & John)
“Sorry, Carson,” Rodney marched him to the chair. With Atlantis at risk, the city’s defenses had to be constantly manned.
“But… what about Major Sheppard?”
Rodney sighed and looked over his shoulder. “Obviously, he’s sick. And you have the ATA gene, too, so we need your help.”
Carson froze feet from the chair. “All right.” Rodney released him. Then Carson slipped around him and went straight for Sheppard. “Let’s get you to medical. I’ll help you feel well enough to get back in the chair.”
“Carson!” Rodney called after him as Carson marched Shepard out of the room.
Sam reads out the Latin. Dean circles the pentagram, knife in hand. The demon strains to get free.
This is not the time to sneeze. If ever there were a time to sneeze, it’s not now. And, yet, his nose tickles. Fiercely.
He rubs it, trying to control the urge. The technique works for a while. It works for a few lines of Latin, a few circles around the demon. Though it will be banished, he doesn’t want to show it weakness.
But it’s not his choice. “ihh-ihhh-HHKXxxshttttt!”
Sam pauses. Dean pauses. Cas sniffles. They bless him and start again.
16. Dinner for Three
(BBC Sherlock, John/Lestrade/Sherlock)
If John were perfectly honest, he would admit he was growing tired of soup. But Greg’s throat was so sore and Sherlock shivered even under five layers of blankets and with one of them on either side of him in bed. So hot soup for three was dinner tonight. Again.
“Ihh-YSchhhh! IhhShuhhh! Ihhhh… hihShuk-uhhh!”
John could hear the sounds of sneezing as he headed up the stairs with the tray. He went weak with desire. And even as the steam rose against his chin, he knew that the dinner was going to get cold before it would get eaten.
“Bless.” Simon forced a bunch of tissues into Mal’s hand.
He snuffled into them then lifted his head. “Don’t tell adyode I’b sick, dong ma?”
“I promise.” He patted the captain’s back and saw him out of the infirmary.
Not ten minutes later, there was a loud “hatShehhhh!” Busy disinfecting his instruments, Simon looked up to see Jayne in the doorway, sniffling into the back of his hand. “Don’t go tellid’ adybody I aid’t feelid’ so hot.” He shuffled inside.
Simon pressed a hand to the man’s forehead. “I promise,” the doctor said, for the fifth time that day.
(Harry Potter, Remus/Sirius)
Sirius raised his head from the bin where he’d been trying to stuff a pair of horrible green satin curtains. “That was number thirty, Moony.”
“It couldn’t be!”
“It was. You’re sure you’re not coming down with a cold?”
Remus took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his nose. “I’m sure. I’m just allergic to your house, Pads.”
“My house.” Sirius snorted. “I spent my childhood trying to escape this place, and now it’s mine and I’m stuck here. Is that what they call irony?”
“I’d call it…” Remus’ eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled. “I’d call it dusty. Hihhh-Hihptschhhhhh!”
(Supernatural, Sam & Dean/Castiel)
Just because he can’t see Castiel’s feathers doesn’t mean they don’t make him sneeze. Usually Sam can pop a pill before they call the angel, and that’s enough to keep the sneezes away. But, lately, that strategy hasn’t worked.
Dean looks guilty as Sam walks into the motel room. Sam wonders if the scent of Dean’s cologne is suddenly making his nose tickle.
Then Sam realizes. He doesn’t want to ask why Cas was here when they aren’t in the middle of a hunt and heaven is relatively quiet. Because there’s the chance Dean might answer with details.
All it took was hearing one hitch of breath and Dean’s eyes shot to the side. Sam’s hand curled against his nose, nostrils flaring. He was going to sneeze.
Dean’s heartbeat sped up. “ih-ih-heh…” Sam’s eyes closed.
Dean swallowed hard. “ehhh-eh-ih-ih-ihhhh-yihhhhh…” Sam’s head tilted back and chest puffed up.
Dean’s teeth clenched. “ihh-ehh-heh-heh-heh-hehhhhhh…” Sam’s mouth dropped open.
Dean knew what dying felt like. “Just sneeze already!” Dean blurted out.
“Ihh-IHHTCHHHH!” Sniffling, Sam looked over, inspecting his brother closely, especially the part below the belt the steering wheel didn’t hide. “Something you want to tell me, Dean?”
As the door opened, the claws came out. Tony took a step back. “Are you guarding the door?”
Logan smiled. “Yup.”
“Did Cap put you up to this?”
Logan’s smiled widened. “Get back into bed.”
“I was going to the kitch—”
“Nice try. You were sneaking out to your lab.”
“Back into bed, sickie. Steve’s getting you a hot toddy, and you’ll be in bed when he returns.”
“Yup. Even if I have to hold you there myself.”
Tony smiled, rubbed fingers under his nose, and held his ground. “Is that a threat… or an offer?”
(Original characters, M)
Richie popped into his roommate’s bedroom. The strong scent of menthol stung his eyes. Noel’s head was buried in pillows.
“Dude, that herbal shit isn’t cutting it. Take some NyQuil.”
“snrffff! Just a cold.”
“I think it’s the fuckin’ flu. You need to knock it on its ass.”
There was a lot of coughing. Then, “I don’t like drugs.”
Richie smirked. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t think you’re gonna shake this unless you take something. Mucinex? Zicam? Afrin? I’m going out now. I can get you anything.”
He lifted his head, dreadlocks swaying. “Mint tea?”
23. First Time
(Star Wars, Finn/Poe)
“That’s it,” Poe whispered. “Just a little… bit more…”
Finn shook his head. “Wait… I’m gonna sn-snee-sneeze-huhhh!”
“Yeah you are.”
When Finn reached up to cup his nose and mouth, Poe pried the hand away, held it to his chest.
Poe came. And, after a minute, so did Finn.
Afterward, Finn snuggled into Poe’s side. “M’sorry for sneezing.”
“Don’t be,” Poe murmured happily. “That was great for a first time.”
Confused, Finn thought of all the times they’d made love. “But…”
“Next time, you’ll remember not to cover your nose.” He gave Finn a sloppy, affectionate kiss.
(Middle Earth, Gloin/Oin/Eagen/Frár/Nord/Toron/unnamed dwarf wife)
Though Nord’s story was wonderful, Eagen’s mind and gaze wandered. They landed on Gloin, who rubbed his hand across his forehead. Headache. Perhaps he had merely had a trying day with Gimli. But the baby was fast asleep in Toron’s arms now. So perhaps the headache meant more.
Eagen elbowed Oin and tilted his head toward their weariest husband. “Headache?” he whispered.
“eh-RRffftch!” Gloin buried a sneeze in the crook of his arm.
“Cold.” Groaning, Oin rose and went to Gloin. With a kiss to the temple, Oin removed him to the sickroom before the others caught what he had.
(Horatio Hornblower, Horatio & Bush)
His cold wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t so windy on deck.
Or if he hadn’t had to jump into the water to fish out the admiral’s orders.
Or if he had remembered to bring an extra handkerchief.
Horatio sniffed miserably, feeling eternally, ceaselessly sneezy no matter how he rubbed at his nose. “ihh-HIhhh!” His mouth hung open with need.
“Here.” At that moment, Horatio wouldn’t have cared if it were Napoleon himself offering a handkerchief. Horatio grabbed it and blew his nose thrice before lifting his head and thanking Lieutenant Bush with a grateful smile.
Sam ripped open a new tissue box and handed it over, wearing an expression of sympathy.
Dean shook his head. “How many times did Dad tell you no dogs?”
“I know… but it was small—”
Sam winced. “I really am sorry.”
“I know you are, but you’ve got to listen. There are rules for a reason.”
Sam knew all about rules. Lay down salt lines. Never play with the guns. Always carry holy water. The no dog rule had seemed so arbitrary. “I didn’t know this would happen.”
“Ah-Ah-Ah-AHHHIHSUHkukkkkk!” John Winchester sneezed into a handful of tissues.
(Stargate: SG-1, Jack/Daniel)
Jack shot straight up in bed, heart pounding. He jumped when Daniel touched his arm.
“Sorry,” Daniel’s voice was soft. “Did I wake you with my sneezing again?”
Jack shook his head, looking around his bedroom.
“It’s the real world. I promise. Heh-IHMpshhh! Look, I’m sneezing from the garden’s flowers. I wasn’t sneezing in the fake realities, right?”
Finally, Jack relaxed, shaking his head. “It… it was so real. Seeing those guys alive again.”
“I know,” Daniel said. If anyone could understand, he could. “Lie back down and hold me?”
“Only if you don’t sneeze on me.”
“I-heh-make no promises…”
Dustin opened his mouth, angling his head to look at his throat in the mirror. It definitely looked red. “Damn!” The word was a hoarse, crackling nightmare. Panic rose up and he grabbed the Chloraseptic spray.
Two squirts later, his mouth was coated in cherry. He let it sit as long as he could before spitting. How the hell was he going to make it through auditions tomorrow? He’d die of embarrassment before he made it past page one.
He pulled two tissues out of the box, one for his nose and the other to clean off the mirror.
(Choose your own pairing! But leave me a note and tell me who you imagined, just in case I want to write them in a later drabble)
“How about spanking?”
“The paddle needs new padding.”
“There’s some chocolate leftover from Valentine’s Day. We could melt it—“
“I ate it yesterday.”
“What about a candle?”
“Never again. You promised.”
“Right. You could tie me up.”
“And spend the next five days putting lotion on your rope burns? No thanks.”
“We could go outside.”
“It’s freezing out there.”
“Sheets are in the laundry.”
“Well, then, I guess that just leaves…” He twirled the pointed end of a tissue in one nostril and immediately let loose with a fierce, wet sneeze.
“Mmm, just what I had in mind.”
(Queer as Folk, Brian/Justin)
Brian rolled the door closed behind him. He shrugged his leather jacket off as he walked, but he stopped halfway across the loft.
His hand came up and his head snapped down. “hahshoo! What’s that Hahhchoo! smell? Huhh-huhshooo! S’making my nose Huh-Ihchooo! tih-tickle-ihhhChuhhh! Ihhhh… ihhShooo! Ahhh-Huchooo! Ahhh-Huhschooo! H’chooo! Hah-Shooo! Huh-huhShooo!”
“Wow!” Justin clapped, impressed. “And I thought my allergies were bad.”
Brian rubbed his nose. “Seriously. Hahshooo! What’s that smell?”
Justin lifted the lid of the pot on the stove. “Dinner!”
Brian’s nose wrinkled. He put his jacket back on. “Not anymore. IhShooo! Ihhh-ihhh… ihhhHihshooo! We’re going out to eat.”
31. Hold Back
(Supernatural, Sam & Castiel)
“Hey, don’t sneeze yet, okay?” Sam walked around the car and popped the hood.
“Hold it back, Cas.”
Castiel closed a fist around his nose, squeezing tightly. “ahhh-not sure I can-ahhh!” The squeezing seemed to not help.
Sam muttered, “I know there’s a tissue box in here somewhere.”
“S-Sam? I c-cad’t-ahh-hah-hahhhhh!” For one second, he thought he might be able to hold it back. But then the uncontrollable need to sneeze overwhelmed him. “ahhh-Ttttschooo!”
When he opened his eyes, he found Sam standing in front of him, wearing a cross expression and holding out a tissue.
(Harry Potter, pre-Lee/George)
George’s sneezes sounded funny, Lee thought. But they also sounded miserable. “George, give up the homework and go to bed. You can copy off mine.”
George nodded but wobbled when he stood. Lee was there in a flash, holding him up.
Lee knew George always sneezed doubles. “Well,” Lee helped him up the stairs. “Now that you’re ill, people will be able to tell you and Fred apart.” It wasn’t a problem Lee had, but most people did.
Lee heard Fred’s sneezes through the closed door. “Or not.” Of course the twins sneezed identically.
Tony winced at the harsh sound. “Jeez, Logan. Sounds like that hurts.”
“It does.” His tone was cold.
“Good thing you have a healing factor.” Tony offered tissues. But then Steve swooped in with a handkerchief. He was the only one who could wipe Logan’s nose and not receive claws through the gut.
Even Tony wouldn’t have been able to, especially considering that he’d gotten Logan sick. Since then, Logan had nothing but harsh words for him.
“Maybe I could catch it back from you?”
This earned Tony a bit of a smile. But only a brief one. “harrrr-REHHSHHUHHH!”
(BBC Sherlock, John/Sherlock)
Sherlock hadn’t mentioned that he smoked. That should have been something to mention to a prospective roommate, especially one with an allergy to cigarette smoke.
“I’ll stop,” Sherlock promised for the hundredth time, grinding the end of the cigarette into the skull-shaped ashtray. “I’ll get the patch or something, I swear.”
“ihShooo! Thags.” John rubbed at his nose, but he’d believe it when he saw it.
“John,” Sherlock said softly, and John looked back at him. “This time I’m quitting for you.”
Slowly, John smiled. He dared to venture across the sitting room to give Sherlock a nuzzle.
35. Making Dinner
(Marvel: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fitz/Simmons)
As soon as he realized the knocking wasn’t just in his head, Fitz swirled his comforter around himself and headed to the door. He blinked to see Jemma standing in his doorway. “What?” He ran his hand through mussed hair. “I mean… hi?”
“Hello, Fitz. How’re you feeling?”
He scrubbed his nose. “Like I want to sneeze every minute. Hah-Exxshkkkkk! See? Why’re you here?”
“I’m making dinner. And I want you to join me.”
“Yes. You’ll feel better with something warm in your belly.”
“I know I will,” he said, smiling, thinking of the company instead of the meal.
36.Impatience (a sequel to 20. Anticipation)
"Yehh-don’t-ehh-think-hehhh-you get a-ehhh-say-ehhhh…” With each gasp, Sam slid impossibly deeper into Dean.
“Sneeze for me.”
“Try-ehhh! Trying-ehh-ihhhh-ehhhhhh-ehhhhh-ehhhhh-D-Dean... I feel s-so sneezy…”
“Oh God, Sammy…”
“I w-want ehhhhh to sn-sndeeze ehhhhh for you yehhhhhh!”
“Yes. I want it.”
“eh! EHH!” He froze, shook his head. “Gone.”
“No!” Dean looked like he was dying, and Dean knew what dying actually felt like.
Dean came, finishing warm on Sam’s chest.
“You can stop now. I’m done.” Dean smiled, covering his crotch with his hand. “Give me half an hour. Then you can start sneezing again.”
“You-ehhhhh-don’t-ihhhhh-get-ehhhhIHTCHHH! a say.”
“Come back to my ship,” Inara whispered.
Mal shook his head. “My cabin’s right there.”
“You never come to my bed. Because I’ve entertained others there?”
“Nah, s’just that incense you have makes me sneeze my head off.”
“It does,” Mal said with a smile. “And unless you’re into that, it’s not going to be very enjoyable.”
She ran a finger down the slope of his nose. “Who says I’m not into that?”
His smile turned into a grin. “Like I said, my cabin’s right there. Let me grab a hankie, and I’ll meet you at your ship.”
(Lord of the Rings, Legolas/Gimli)
Gimli hesitated outside the door to the barn. “Dwarves do not like horses.”
Legolas pressed a hand to Gimli’s back, applying just a little reassuring pressure. “You can ride with me. The horse will not hurt you.”
“But they…” His nose wrinkled, even as he rubbed it with a thick finger. “But they already are. Er… Herrr-Exgshh!”
Aragorn turned in the doorway. “Not to worry. I know some herbs that will help with that tickle.”
Gimli found himself being ushered away at once, grumbling, “What will help is if I do not have to go near horses again.”
(Original characters-Strokes ‘verse, Sinclair)
“heh-hehShffffff! hehshfffmm!” Sin lifted his head from the pillow he was hugging. His nose was runny and sniffly, but not ticklish anymore. Good. With any luck, none of the guys had heard it. He might be able to get out of the house without anyone knowing he was sick.
Sin couldn’t miss the Jackal’s first game of the season. It wasn’t as though he was actually playing. Jamie had coached a game sick once; Sin could as well. Oh no. He buried his face in the pillow again. “h’Shhffffffff!”
There was a knock at the door, and Sin’s hopes vanished.
40. Suffer (a sequel to 36.Impatience)
“ah-ah-hahGxxshhtt!” Warm fingers stroked Dean’s cheek as Dean groaned with discomfort.
Out came the thermometer, which Sam considered closely. “Hope you weren’t thinking of leaving that bed any time soon, ‘cause you’re running one hell of a temperature.”
“Ha-ha, Sabby.” Dean pushed off from the bed, but a hand on his chest held him back down. Dean grunted. “Cub od. You dow I hardly ever catch colds.”
“Yeah, well, you hardly ever have me sneezing all over your naked body for days either.”
Dean’s already flushed cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “ahh-HAHGRshxxttttt! Sniff! Worth every secod of sufferig.”
(Harry Potter, pre-Neville/Charlie)
Charlie chuckled from the doorway. “A herbologist allergic to his own plants?”
“You’re not going to last long at the reserve if you keep sneezing like that.”
Neville scrubbed his nose with the back of his gloved hand. “M’not allergic. Sometimes I sneeze when I’m nervous. Something I picked up after five years of Potions with Snape.”
“Why’re you nervous?” Charlie looking around. “You’ve settled in fine.”
“eh-Shoo!” Neville rubbed his nose again, not ready to admit it wasn’t his position he was worried about. If Ron found out Neville suddenly had the hots for his big brother…
(Buffy: the vampire slayer, Spike/Xander)
Xander stood in front of Spike, mug of warm cow’s blood in hand.
“I’b fide, Bet. I’b dot dridkig that.”
Xander didn’t argue, didn’t speak.
“I’b half-hubad dow. I dod’t dee-dee-deeeeeeeeSchhihhh!”
Xander simply held the mug out.
“Dod’t stare at be like that. I-I-I-eeehhh-ehhhhSHIHHH!” Spike grabbed the mug. He gulped it down and shoved the mug back at Xander. “Habby dow?”
Xander softened. “Yep! You know, if you’d drink this stuff every day, you wouldn’t get sick.”
“Add if you did’t try to get be to dridk it every day you would’t be the good-hearted Scoobie I fell for.”
(Lord of the Rings, Legolas/Gimli)
Legolas started to carry the mug of tea over to where Aragorn lay, shivering and sniffling in his bedroll by the campfire. “Here you are, Estel.”
“Hold it!” Gimli held his arm up, hand on Legolas’ chest. “You are not going anywhere near him.”
“Gimli, I will not catch—“
Gimli took the mug. “Right. Because you are not going near him.” He took the mug to Aragorn, helping the man sit up to drink. Out in the middle of nowhere, the last thing he needed was a sneezing elf on top of a sneezing man.
(Harry Potter, Oliver Wood/Marcus Flint)
“Huhhh… hahhhhhhhhhh-j-just w-wont-hahhhh-cuh-come out!” Marcus took one hand off his crotch and scrubbed at his nose. “Oliver, get the flowers.”
With reservations, Oliver retrieved the bouquet from the bin. He wasn’t even to the bed when Marcus’ nostrils flared.
“hahh-URSchhooo! URShooo!” Marcus squirmed with a needy, helpless gasp. Then he proceeded to wet himself. The crotch of his pants darkened. As Oliver watched the patch spread, Marcus’s hand shook up and down. He came with a moan.
Then he relaxed, the greatest look of blissful relief on his face.
‘I have the strangest boyfriend,’ thought Oliver, before conferring a kiss.
(Gotham, Jim/Leslie, probably Jim/Bullock)
Looking out the window at the blizzard made him shiver. Or maybe that was the fever of one-oh-one.
“Don’t leave,” Leslie said. “You have a temperature.” And her voice was so soft, sweet, and opposite of everything in his life that Jim actually considered obeying.
“Everyone’s got a temperature, Doctor. Mine might be higher than normal, but I’m still a cop. We don’t get snow days.” He stifled three sneezes into his sleeve.
“You get sick days.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Bullock’ll look after me.”
She rolled her eyes but, in the end, let him leave.
“How’re you holding up, Son?”
Sam’s big brother was hunkered down in the dirt and leaves in a too-big coat, clutching his rifle to keep it from shaking. He looked terrible. The fever made him sweat; beads rolled down his face. And he looked pale by moonlight.
“Good boy. Keep an eye out.” Dad headed back into the woods.
Dean held in a cough. It fooled their dad, but not Sam. Sam saw every grimace and heard every sniffle. He patted Dean’s arm in sympathy.
Dean whispered, “I feel terrible, Sammy,” and smothered a sneeze into his sleeve.
(Star Wars, Obi-Wan)
Was it possible for every blanket on this planet to be the itchiest blanket in the galaxy? Obi-Wan squirmed, trying to squeeze under the heavy blanket while not actually touching any of it. He was not successful. The edge of the blanket brushed his chin and he cringed, pulling away, and encountered a cold draft.
“hehChuhhh! heh-heh-EHChuhhh!” He barely noticed the shivering because of the sneezing. And he barely noticed thumping of his head because of his drippy nose that needed blowing.
But he did notice the scratchy blanket rubbing against his wrists. Not even the Force could soothe him.
(Justice League, Flash)
The pile of tissues on the table in front of the blur that was Flash suddenly grew. Then the man groaned, laid his hand against his forehead, and leaned back in his chair.
“Bless you.” Green Lantern said from the doorway. Then, to Hawkgirl, “That’s customary when someone sneezes.”
“Is that what he did?” She looked stunned.
GL laughed. They’d heard a high-pitched squeak and whooshes of air. But with Flash’s nose redder than his suit and the giant pile of tissues, Flash must be sneezing at top speeds. Hey, if it hurried the cold along, more power to him.
(Harry Potter, Marauders pre-Remus/Sirius?)
“What’s that look on your face, Moony? Disapproving of me again?”
“N-no. I nee-need to sn-sneeze ihh-ihhh-Ihhh!”
“Well, go on then.” Sirius couldn’t hide his grin.
“Cah-can’t quite-ihhhhhhh!” Remus wavered, face full of concentration at the unrealized urge to sneeze.
Sirius snickered quietly until James punched his arm.
“There you are,” Sirius sat back, elbows bent, hands folded behind his head. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Blushing, Remus hid behind his book.
James leaned close to Sirius. “Oy, why’re you teasing him?”
“’Cause he looks good with his cheeks all flushed, doesn’t he?”
James just rolled his eyes.
(Gilmore Girls, Jess & Dean)
“This is your fault.”
“Mine? It’s your store room.” It was Luke’s, actually, but that was beside the point. The point was that Jess didn’t have a key and the door wouldn’t open without one. “ihhh-ihhhfftschmmfff!” He sneezed into the crook of his arm. If this had been the store room at Dooses; at least there would be Kleenex.
“You’re the one who wanted to fight about Rory.”
Jess threw his arms up. “God, this is torture! Locked here with you. I’ll probably catch your cold, too.”
Half his face still hidden, Dean couldn’t help but smile at that.
He would not call Sam. That was his only rule.
No matter how horrible he felt, no matter how run down he was, no matter how desperately lonely he admitted to being, he would not call his little brother. Sam ran out on them. And Dean wanted Sam to be happy.
But, damn, he wanted to complain to someone that he felt like death warmed over. He wanted someone to say he’d be all right.
Rules were meant to be broken. Dean dialed.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice was full of confusion and worry. Dean hung up immediately.
“You need tea.”
Jack’s arms wrapped even tighter around Ianto. He added a leg, hooked around the man. “Not now… ha… hahh-AhhShuhhhh!”
Ianto shivered as Jack’s wet nose slid against his neck, so he snuggled closer. Even ill, Jack was so warm, like an immortal, everlasting battery. And Jack snuggled right back, resting his cheek against Ianto’s. He breathed warm into Ianto’s ear. Ianto petted his head, drawing fingers through the soft brown hair.
When Jack tensed up, drawing in a breath, Ianto held him tighter. “hahhh-AHShuhhhh! Hahh… Hahhh-AHHShuhhhh!”
“Bless. Sure I can’t get you tea?”
“No, just want snuggles.”
(The Hobbit, Bilbo/Bofur)
Bilbo’s own cough woke him. His head had felt fuzzy since being in the water. So it wasn’t surprising that he woke during the night in Bard’s house with a tickle in his throat and one to match in his nose.
With no handkerchief, Bilbo buried his nose in the crook of his arm. “ih-Chhhhh!”
Arms drew him into a warm chest. “If y’have ta sneeze, make it quiet so y’don’t wake everyone.” Bofur’s throat vibrated as he spoke, tickling Bilbo’s nose more.
Despite the wet sneezes, Bofur held him there until they both fell back to sleep.
She hadn’t expected a two hour wait, but half the campus was in the clinic’s waiting room. When Sam finally emerged from talking to the doctors, he still looked like a disheveled mess. She waited for him to explain, but all he did was sniff. “What’d they say?”
“Sinus infection,” Sam said, rubbing at his nose.
She noticed the slip of paper in his hand. “And that’s?”
“Uh, a prescription?”
“Let’s go get it filled.”
He looked confused.
“At a pharmacy.”
More confusion. So she took the paper and put a hand on his back, leading him to her car.
(Original characters, Patrick)
Even better than the first snowfall of the year was the first frost. Patrick waited eagerly for it, rushing to his window every early autumn morning in anticipation of the light coating of sparkle that would make the world look magical… and make the air breathable again.
“HehhhhGDSCHhhhhhh! Heh-CHEKKShhhh!” This morning, the quad was still its normal green and his nose still had its normal tickles.
Early still, his roommate rolled over in bed and burrowed under blankets. Deciding he should take a shower before he woke the whole floor up with his sneezing, Patrick grabbed his towel and kit.
(Night Vale, Cecil/Carlos)
Welcome back. During the break, I got a call from… guess!
If you guessed the man who claims that mountains are real you would be wrong. It was Carlos. He heard my many sneezes into the microphone earlier and felt sorry for me. Isn’t he the nicest?
Apparently, science knows about sneezing and it is not, as previously reported, a sign of doom. Carlos says it’s likely I have a cold.
If it hadn’t been Carlos telling me, I might not have believed it.
More on this matter later, as I proceed to sneeze during the rest of the broadcast.
(Original characters-Strokes ‘verse, Sweetie/Jamie)
Everything was ready. Three blankets and four pillows on the couch. A bottle of Gatorade, a sleeve of Saltines, and a box of tissues on a small side table. His favorite video game in the system. Now Jamie needed his boyfriend.
Back in their bedroom, Sweetie would not move. “Everything hurts. Hah-hah-TJjjishxx!”
“But I’ve got a nest ready for you downstairs.” He petted Sweetie’s head softly, knowing he was fever-sensitive.
Sweetie moaned in pain and closed his eyes.
Jamie headed back downstairs. It would take a couple trips, but if Sweetie couldn’t go to it, it would come to him.
58. Phone Call
“John, you’ve got to come home.”
“It’s an emergency!” There was panic in his voice, breath racing, over the phone.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, John gave in. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
It took him nearly an hour to finish with patients, reschedule, and get home. By then, he had worked himself into a panic. “Sherlock?”
“Ihh-Yihhschhhh!” Sherlock sat on the couch, which was covered in balled-up tissues.
“W-what’s the emergency?” John felt himself warm.
Sherlock sniffed. “I caught a head cold. And I didn’t want you to miss a single sneeze.”
59. Apologize (a sequel to 58. Phone Call)
“You called me home for this?” John collapsed into an arm chair, his cock hardening at the thought of Sherlock sneezing.
“I called you for… f-uhh-ihhhYSchhhhhh! IhhKTshhhhh! EhhYehtchuhhh!” His uncovered sneezes were a mist toward the middle of the sitting room. “For that.” He plucked a tissue from the box and blew his nose lightly. “I always sneeze the most on the first day of a cold.”
John’s hands gripped the chair’s arms. He bit his lip. “You… said emergency. I thought… maybe Moriarty…”
John moaned. “Apology accepted.” Then he went straight to Sherlock to nuzzle his wet nose.
(Lord of the Rings, Legolas/Gimli)
Gimli held up another handkerchief.
But, this time, Legolas shook his head. “No-sniff-nose too sore. Sniff! Sniff!”
It did look it, a flushed pink at the tip and an angry red all around the nostrils. But Legolas’ nose was still sniffly and runny. It would get no better if it remained wet. “Even if I touch as softly as I can?”
With something close to a whimper, Legolas relented, and Gimli dabbed the soft handkerchief at the tender nose.
For a moment, Legolas seemed to bear the touch. Then he pulled away, wincing. His nose and twitched immediately. “ihhhTihshhh!”
(Highlander: the series, Duncan/Methos)
“Want a beer?”
Wrapped in a plaid blanket, Duncan rounded the couch to see Methos sprawled across it. “Your bedside manner leaves something to be desired, doctor.”
Methos shrugged. “You live five thousand years, you get used to a little sneezing.” He pulled Duncan onto the couch with him.
“You know, you’re not what I ex-expected-hahhShuhhh!”
“Bless you.” Methos lifted a corner of the blanket to wipe at Duncan’s nose. “You’re not what I pictured either, Highlander. At the very least I thought you’d have a Scottish accent.”
“Or have learned to cover your nose in four hundred years.”
Countless training sessions and a wiry frame made it easy for Kurt to crane his neck, looking past the tangle of body parts. “Gesundheit.”
Logan grunted and swallowed Kurt’s cock again in reply. But, marvelous though that felt, Kurt could see Logan’s nose wrinkle and nostrils flare. Before he got going again, Logan pulled back. “hurrrEHSchhhhh!”
“Gesundheit. Are you all right?”
Logan rubbed his nose. “Your fur tickles.”
BAMF! Kurt disappeared and reappeared with Logan beneath him, between his legs. “Time for a different position then.” He impaled himself. There wasn’t another sneeze, but there was much heavy breathing.
Phil woke in a haze. “What's habbedig?” At the sound of his own voice, thick with congestion, everything flooded back. The mission. The bomb. “hah-Ehtchuhhh!” The flu.
“He's awake,” said one soft voice.
“Someone get Barton,” said another.
“Hey there, Agent Coulson,” said Clint, climbing onto the hellicarier clinic bed a second later.
Or had it been a minute? Why was everything fuzzy? His fever?
“The explosion knocked you out,” Clint explained. “And your fever spiked. Fury had a conniption.”
That didn't make Phil feel better. But the strong arm around him and familiar face nuzzling against his neck did.
(Forever, Henry & Abe)
“h’Chiphh!” Henry smothered another sneeze into his neatly folded handkerchief just as Abe came in with two steaming bowls for dinner. Henry gave his a skeptical look.
“This is guaranteed to make you feel better.” Abe forced a spoon into his father’s hand.
Cautious, Henry tried a spoonful. His eyes went wide.
“Abe!” Henry gasped, dropping the spoon at once. “My tongue’s gone numb! What spices are in this?”
“Only all the good ones. Now eat up before it gets cold.”
As Abe dug into his, Henry wished another sneeze would come so he wouldn’t have to eat more.
65. Under the Weather
(Original fiction, Colin)
One of the club’s Doms walked up to her check-in desk, sniffling and looking awful. What sub would want him in this condition?
He coughed into the crook of his arm. “Just a little under the weather.”
Was it his Scottish accent that let him get away with using that expression?
“I need a locker and a basic room tonight.”
She gave him what he’d requested, but, boy, he was sure of himself, wasn’t he?
On his way to the Dom locker room, he sneezed a fierce sneeze. Charlotte made a note to double-disinfect his room when he was done.
(The Hobbit, Nori & Dori)
The moon had not yet reached its apex. Nori thought he would last until then on watch, but only just. One hand tightened around his knife. The other reached up and pinched his nose. “h’nkk! h'njjk! h'nngk!”
He surveyed at the company, still asleep around the campfire below the ledge where he sat. All but one. Someone was missing.
Jaw clenched, hand on his knife, Nori turned to see his older brother.
“Go. I’ll take my turn early.”
“I can last. I-I-h’nnnt!”
“Aye?” Dori sat down beside him, lending his warmth. “Then you can do so with company.”
(Star Wars, Finn/Poe)
Damn! He’d already sneezed three times; how many more until the tickle in his nose left? And why hadn’t he thought to put a handkerchief in one of his pockets? Unless… maybe Poe had one? Finn began to check, but didn’t get far. “h’Chfffffff!” he sneezed into his sleeve.
The sleeve of his jacket. The sleeve of Poe’s jacket. Damn! He looked around, paranoid that Poe would suddenly swoop in and catch him. Seeing no one, he rubbed his nose against the sleeve.
He lifted his head only long enough to sneeze again, into his other sleeve. “heh-Cheffff! H’Chihffffff!” Damn!
68. Caught in the Act (a sequel to 9. Finally Alone)
(Star Wars, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi)
“Bless you, Mas-oh!” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened to see Qui-Gon on the bed with his sizeable, leaking cock in hand.
Qui-Gon’s reaction was to snap forward. “UhhhK’shooo!” He groaned, his hand sliding down his cock with need.
“Oh.” A second realization struck. “Do you love sneezing this much too? My favorite is coming when sneezing.” Obi-Wan thought longingly for a moment then realized Qui-Gon probably wished to finish. “Sorry, I’ll go.”
Quickly, Qui-Gon patted the bed. “Padawad? I f-feel a sdeeze cobig. Helb?”
Eagerly, Obi-Wan climbed onto the bed, one hand rubbing his master’s cock, the other rubbing his master’s nose.
(The Hobbit, Balin & Bilbo)
Balin gathered an extra blanket and took it to his guest’s room. Years since the quest, he’d been excited when Bilbo came to visit. “Have you settled-oh.” He found Bilbo, handkerchief pressed to nose, suffering from an attack of sneezes.
“Ihhhpddschhhhh! Ihhhptchhh! Ihhtchh! Ihhhchh! Hihshhhh!”
“Goodness, lad, whatever’s the matter?”
Bilbo pointed at Quartz, Dwalin’s large, fluffy forest cat which was spread across the guest bed, looking at him with innocent green eyes.
“Allergic, are you?”
Balin took Bilbo by the arm to lead him out into fresh air.
(Sherlock, Sherlock & Mycroft)
“I need your help.” Sherlock held out a paper.
Holding his folded handkerchief to his nose, Mycroft’s glare was icy. He didn’t take the paper. He didn’t move. “D’no, Sherlock.”
“But I need access to—“
“h’nnptchh!” He didn’t have the energy to rub his nose. Or blow his nose. He barely had the energy to sit upright in his armchair. “Sherlock, leave.”
“I will, if you sign.”
“hnptshhh! h'efshhh! H’Nihhshhhh!” His eyes closed. His body sunk deeper into his chair. He would not be moved.
“Should I… come back tomorrow then?”
(Harry Potter, Albus/Scorpius)
“You stood me up, Potter.”
Albus looked past the plant he was fertilizing to see Scorpius Malfoy in the doorway of the greenhouse. “Shh!” He looked over, but Professor Longbottom over in the corner didn’t seem to have heard.
And Scorpius didn’t seem to care. He marched over to Albus.
“Sorry. My grades are slipping. I had to put in extra time. Harry Potter’s son can’t fail a-a-a cla-hahh-Chiiiiiiih!”
Scorpius squeezed Albus’ hand. “Feeling pressure to put in time with plants that make you sneeze? Sure you’re not playing for sympathy to get another kiss from me?”
Albus smiled sheepishly.
“huh…HUH!” Arthur’s hand, the one not holding his sword, clamped over Merlin’s nose and mouth. “h’Fshnnn!” Arthur kept his hand there until he got the nod from Merlin that the sneezes had finished this time. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Hush! They might hear you!”
Merlin thought the enemy stood a better chance of hearing Arthur’s armor clink or Arthur’s warnings to be quiet, but he didn’t say so. He said, “Sorry.” At least he was the one with the cold, not Arthur: Arthur’s sneezes were too loud to muffle. “huh-Arthur?” Arthur’s hand covered the lower half of Merlin’s face. “huhh-h’ffnnsh!”
(Lord of the Rings, Gimli/Legolas, past-Aragorn/Legolas)
Gimli growled and Legolas squirmed against him. “Cannot help it,” Legolas whispered, and Gimli was unsure if he meant the elf’s hardness against Gimli’s leg or the nasty cold the elf’s former lover had. Either way, the man’s sneezing was so frequent no one in the company was likely to get sleep until it passed.
In the morning, Gimli would prepare one of his uncle’s remedies. In the meantime, there was nothing to be done except try to not listen and try to not think about how Aragorn’s sneezes made Legolas stand.
Gimli growled as Legolas moaned softly.
(Original characters- Strokes, Pit & Sweetie)
“It’s not that bad.” Sweetie was the fifth to come to Pit’s bedroom to try reassuring him.
Pit lay in bed, back to the door. “I sneezed on the turkey.”
“Not your fault you’ve got a cold.”
“My nose… won’t let me forget. Wait, I ha-hah-hih-IHJJSCHHHHH!”
Sweetie walked over and sat down on his bed. Pit curled up as much as he could with his sizeable belly. Which rumbled. “Come back upstairs. I’ll heat up your plate.” He rubbed Pit’s back.
“No. I can’t face everyone yet.”
“Then I’ll bring our plates down. No one should eat alone on Thanksgiving.”
(The Hobbit, Bilbo & dwarves)
Dwarf colds, Bilbo learned, spread fast. It began with Ori’s sniffle last night; a day later, the entire company was sick. Feeling stuffed-up, Bilbo lay on his back, unable to sleep for coughs and sneezes filling the camp.
His sleeve under his nose, for lack of a handkerchief, Bilbo felt his nose tickle. “Ih!” His eyes closed, and he braced himself. “ihhhhTSchooo! IhhhhKShhhoo! IhhhhShuhhh! IhhhSchhuhhhh! IhhhShooo! Ih-ih-IHHSHUHH! IhhhhShehhhh! IhhhShooo! Ih-IHSCHuhhhhh!”
There was silence, then one dwarf laughed and clapped. The rest joined in as the smallest of their party snuffled from the biggest fit yet.
This one’s inspired by a fanart postcard I bought & have framed on my wall)
Sam climbed carefully into the tub behind his brother.
“Mmmmmm,” was all Dean could say with a thermometer in his mouth, but Sam got the message that Dean was pleased.
They didn’t exactly fit well, two grown men in a motel bathtub, especially considering how tall Sam was. There was Sam behind him, Sam’s arms around him, Sam’s knees against his hips, Sam’s legs against his. Everywhere that Sam wasn’t were soap bubbles.
Sam knew his brother well. He reached up for the thermometer, leaving Dean free not to talk but to sneeze. “hatchehhttt! Hahh-ehhhchhhhttt!”
Sam hugged him tight.
(Original characters-Strokes ‘verse, Coyote)
“When the lights are off ah-and-hahhCHISchhhh!” The discordant sound of instruments cutting off made Coyote wince. He turned, smiling sheepishly at his bandmates. “Sorry. Again.”
“Maybe our band’ll have a spring hiatus?” suggested Alex.
Coyote grabbed a tissue from the box on an amp. He’d already taken the strongest dose of allergy medicine and he still couldn’t shake the sneezes completely.
“Maybe we can hide him in the back,” Fenton joked.
Franco held up his drumsticks in offering.
Coyote shook his head. “I sound like a three-year-old on the drums.” He sniffed hard. “C’mon. Let’s take it from the top.”
There was no steaming mug on Jack’s desk.
There was no teaboy in his doorway.
But there was a doctor. “Ianto left a phone message while we were out. I think he’s ill and staying home.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “You think?”
“He sneezed through the entire message. Hard to make out some words.”
When Owen left, Jack stared at his desk where a mug wasn’t. Then he grabbed his coat. If Ianto was too ill to come to work and make tea, than Jack would have to go to his place and make tea for him.
79. Headcold (a sequel to 40. Suffer)
Dean took his hand off the wheel to rub Sam’s thigh.
“It’s just allergies, Dean.”
“Sure it’s not another headcold?”
Rubbing at his nose, Sam smiled. “M’sure.”
“’Cause if it was, I’d take good care of you. I’d tuck you into bed—“
“And crawl in to fuck?”
Dean flushed red. “Maybe, yeah.”
“If you had a headcold, I’d draw you a warm bath.”
“And squeeze in to fuck?”
“You know me so well.”
“ihh-Ihshh! Dean? Sniff! If you want, you can pretend this is the worst, sneeziest headcold I’ve ever had. Hihshhh!”
Dean grinned. “Bless you.”
(Original characters-Strokes ‘verse, Olly)
Hand to his forehead, Dr. Walsh glanced around the free clinic’s waiting room. It had been packed for days.
“HUHSchhh! HURShuhh! HURSCHHHH!”
This happened every year around now, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of letting up.
A double shift of this would be draining, but there was no alternative, with half the clinic’s staff home sick.
“Alice?” He walked over to the check-in desk. “I think you’d better put in for another order of tissues immediately.” He sighed. “And I’ll see whoever’s next.”
(NCIS in Xanthe’s BDSM universe, Gibbs & DiNozzo)
He couldn’t lie to his Top, but he thought if he could just avoid Gibbs, maybe he would never know Tony was sick. The plan worked until he had to interrogate a suspect. Tony’d tried to hold back his sneezes and coughs, knowing Gibbs was watching. But, in the end, he’d let loose with a fit of sneezes.
At least the suspect had confessed.
As Tony left the room, one look from Gibbs was enough to bring the submission out in Tony. He blurted out, “I’ll head home to bed.”
Gibbs gave an approving nod that made Tony’s insides flutter.
(The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin)
That night, the day came rushing back, overwhelming Bilbo. Orcs. The creature Gollum. Trolls. Wargs. The fire. His body shook with strong, unrestrainable sobs.
He tried to cry quietly, but Thorin heard anyway and pulled him close.
“Dirt in my face,” Bilbo lied. “hah-ahchoo!” The faked sneeze gave him an excuse to rub a sleeve at his tear-streaked cheeks.
“The world can be scary for those who are small.” Thorin rubbed a heavy hand against Bilbo’s back. “Which makes acts of bravery the more meaningful. I won’t forget what you did today.”
He held tight as the hobbit’s tears faded.
(Ultimate Spider-Man, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm)
Peter woke with a start, his spider abilities the only things that kept him from falling out of bed. “What?” A supervillain? A call from Fury? Something about Aunt May?
“Your cold must’ve come with a fever. You were thrashing around from a nightmare, I think. Didn’t want you waking everyone… or yelling out the wrong thing.”
Peter couldn’t remember any dreams, but he did feel uneasy. Until Johnny sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand. So warm, reassuring. He wasn’t in this alone.
“ahh-Chooo!” Peter pulled his hand back to cover his nose. “ah-ahh-Chishooo!”
(Game of Thrones, John Snow)
“ha!” A finger crooked against his nostrils, John turned from the table. “hah-UHNxxttt! ‘Scuse me,” he muttered. As he swiveled back on the bench toward the table, his new brothers were guffawing.
“Excuse me, he says, as if he were at court!” one laughed.
“Do we look like the king, bastard?” said another, tearing a bite out of a hunk of meat.
Sniffing, John ran his hand over Ghost’s head; the direwolf’s head lay on his thigh under the table. Stroking it gave him comfort and confidence. “Next time, I’d be happy to sneeze on your supper, if you’d prefer.”
Arthur glanced over at Merlin.
He didn’t want to call his servant out in front of the king, but that constant sniffing was starting to get on his nerves.
Arthur clenched his teeth and pushed his potato around his plate.
He didn’t want to lose his composure in front of his father, but that sniffling was so irritating.
Merlin had to quit sniffing; he just had to.
Arthur glared at Merlin, who was rubbing his nose and shrugging apologetically. Arthur felt his irritation melt to sympathy. At least it wasn’t a sniffle that time.
(Queer as Folk, Brian/Justin)
Under the shower’s spray, Justin tried to let the steam clear his breathing. Brian wouldn’t want a sniffly, sick kid in bed. Therefore, he had to get better. He rested his forearm against the cool tile then rested his forehead against his arm.
His chest rumbled. His nose ran. His breath caught. “h’TTTIIIIIIShhhh!”
Startled, Justin straightened, tried not to cough.
“When you’re done hiding in here, come back to bed. I’m keeping it warm for you. I’ve got tissues and the best cold drugs.”
Justin cleared his throat. “Be there in a sec.” Blushing, he turned off the water.
(Middle Earth, Gloin/Oin/Eagen/Frár/Nord/Toron/Sima)
Oin’s ears perked up at once. He knew his husbands’ sneezes well, but this one was different somehow. When no other sneezes came, Oin tried to keep his mind on the cleaning task. Sometimes a sneeze was just a sneeze, after all.
And sometimes a sneeze meant a cold. But Toron? Never! Oin crossed the room. “Tor? How do you feel?”
Toron grinned and showed a feather he’d plucked from his feather duster. “Tired of cleaning. Bored and horny. And wanting of your attention.”
Oin moved in close, hands on his husband’s hips. “You have got it now.”
“H’Uhshooo!” As Dylan shook the bed with his sneeze, the cold compress slipped from his forehead. Norma laid it back in place. He shivered at the touch then settled back down.
“Mother? Is breakfast ready?” Norman hovered in the doorway to the room that had been his brother’s.
Leaning over the bed still, she brushed her hair out of her eyes. “No, sorry, Norman. Your brother’s fever just broke. I haven’t had a chance. And Emma isn’t coming in today. I’ll have to go over to the office.”
Norman looked from her to Dylan. “But what about our breakfast together?”
“We need to make a supply stop,” Simon told Wash, knowing Mal and Zoe were listening; it was hard to keep a secret on the ship, let alone in the cockpit. “I’m running low on medicine.”
“I’m better, Doc,” Mal said, clapping his chest. “No need to—”
“hahhtt-CHEHTTT!” Everyone turned toward the doorway where Jayne stood, snuffling into the back of his hand. “I need more pills, Doc.”
He needed to rest. He needed better food. And he needed to stop asking for medicine every hour. One of these times, Simon worried Jayne would try to ask using Vera.
Doc Oc’s metal arm came at Peter; he dodged it. “Hey, that’s not fair. Spiders are supposed to have eight legs too. Maybe …” he trailed off, the urge to sneeze flaring up.
He’d taken cold meds, but what he really needed was rest. And for a villains to not attack. But it looked like he was getting neither of those tonight. “Hold on,” he said, raising a finger. “I have to… ehhh… ehhhhh-EhhhShoooo!”
He was going to have to wash his mask when he got home. “Sorry to interrupt the fight. Let’s get back to me kicking your butt.”
(Original D&D Character, Jayd’n)
Jayd’n shivered and curled against the base of the tree. Winters at the monastery had not felt this cold. He’d known leaving would mean adventure and discovery. He’d hoped it would also mean answers. So far, all he’d found were rude, selfish beings and cold weather.
Another shiver seized him, though he pulled his monk’s robes tightly around himself. This shiver brought with it little bumps on his arm, teeth that chattered, and a prickle deep in his nose that immediately amounted to a sneeze. “H’kkxnnn!”
He rested his forehead against his knees. Maybe he should never have left home.
(Original fiction- Strokes, Nik & Robert)
“Rich, would you sthend Robert up?” Nik stood at the wall of security monitors, watching one of the club’s drivers sneezing repeatedly into his sleeve. He saw the security guard head down to him, speak, and then send him to the office.
“You wanted me, Boss? Ready to h-head home?”
“No, but you are. You caught that cold going ‘round. You think I’d let you drive around sthneezthing like that?”
“I-I-I-hahhhhTshooo! hahhhTISHooo! hahTIHKShhoo!” Robert flopped onto the office couch and flung an arm over his eyes.
Nik sat down next to him and patted his shoulder. “Julia’ll drive you home.”
(Middle Earth, Oin/Nord)
Oin’s fingers wrapped around the mug as he carried it over to the fur rug. Nord sniffled as he looked up. Then he buried himself under the blankets Oin had laid out.
“Think I won’t find you?” Oin blew across the surface of the maroon-tinted brown herbal tea. “You’re to take my remedy and that’s that.”
“Will it taste as bad as the last one?”
Oin lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip. “Yes,” he replied, pulling a face. “But it’ll make you sneeze less.”
Beneath the blankets, Nord considered this carefully. “Then I choose the-the sn-ehhh-TIHGSHHHHH!”
(Harry Potter, pre-Remus/Sirius)
“Sometimes, James, I don’t understand him.”
They watched Sirius, sniffling from a fierce cold, throw himself at the mercy of Gryffindors by the fireside. “He likes his pettings, Padfoot does.”
Remus shook his head. “It’s weird though, to want everyone watching.” Sirius made sneezing a production, with a finger in the air and a drawn-out build-up. He made sure every eye was on him.
“Maybe it’s not everyone… maybe he doesn’t know a subtle way of telling the one person he wants attention from.”
Remus shrugged but fingered the tissues he’d stuffed in his pocket in case Sirius needed them.
(Original characters, M/?)
One moment he flew high, untethered. The next he slipped, fell. He tried to get back up, but his drop was quick. Terrified he would hit too hard, he physically reached out. One hand hit soft, the other hit warm.
Soft was a blanket wrapped around his naked body. Warm was his Dom that night. Warm arms to hold, warm chest to cuddle, warm voice to soothe. “There, I said that scene would be tricky to come out of when you’re feeling sick.”
“Bless.” The Dom held him close but not so tight that he retreated back into subspace.
(Lord of the Rings, Legolas/Gimli)
“ih-ih-ih-ihhhh!” The elf prince’s ears twitched as the sneeze built. It was that movement, not the hitching breaths, that woke Gimli. “ihh-Ihtchh!”
“Galu.” His voice, rough from sleep, was cleared it as he dragged a handkerchief out from under their pillow and wiped his elf’s nose. “This ailment refuses to let go, aye?”
Legolas nodded, sniffling. His breath hitched again. “ih-ih-ihhh-ih-ihh-ihh-ihhh-Hitchh!” He purred with contentment. “Do dot stob.”
“Which?” Gimli rubbed at Legolas’ twitchy nose through the handkerchief and rubbed a finger along the contour of one pointed, twitchy ear soothingly.
“Both.” Like a cat, he curled against his dwarf.
(Supernatural, Sam & Dean & Castiel)
“Bees are fascinating.” Castiel liberally squeezed honey into a mug. “Honey bees maintain a temperature of 93º in the hive. That’s ten degrees less than your temperature, Sam.” He slid the mug across the table. Sam sneezed and reached out for it.
“And they can fly at speeds of 15mph. That’s not as fast as your car, but, then, your car doesn’t make honey, Dean.” He slid a second cup to Dean, who coughed and inspected it.
Tea with honey was supposed to be medicinal. Only Cas had forgotten the tea.
Sam’s nudge indicated Dean should pretend to drink anyway.
(Original Characters-Hockey ‘verse, Wilson Majors)
Wilson went after the puck. The Eagles’d been on a losing streak since that cold bug had made its rounds. Wilson was determined that would end tonight. The score was 3-3 with a minute left. Just enough time to score.
That was when his nose tickled. With his visor and gloves on, the best he could hope for was that it would be quick. “hahhh-ahhhh-AHKDShhhhhhh!”
It was quick, but not quick enough. The Cobras took the puck up the ice. Turns out it had been enough time to score. Wilson hung his head in defeat as the Cobra’s celebration began.
“Hih! Hih-hih-hih-ihhhh!” Sam cupped a hand over his nose and mouth and buried it all in the crook of his other arm. “h’shmfffffffff!” His sniffle was light, barely audible. But he hadn’t managed to smother the sneeze into complete silence.
And everyone in the library agreed. All eyes were on him, annoyed he’d disturbed the quiet, anxious that whatever he had might be catching, maybe just startled enough to pause in their reading. He held a hand up, trying to apologize wordlessly. But he brought it back down in no time, needing to rub his nose.
“Hih!” It started again…
(Original Fiction, Josephine/Dennis)
“Just a minute. You’re always saying I’m not on the forum enough.”
Dennis nuzzled his face into her neck. “But I have something for you.”
“I want to finish thanking everyone who left feedback on the story I posted.”
“huh-huhIHIPTSchhhhhh!” He sneezed into her neck, dragging his wet nose against her skin.
Her fingers froze on the keyboard. Her mouth went dry. “Den?”
“I want to sneeze for you and give you my cold,” he whispered.
She turned her head, seeing his nostrils flare. “Thank you.” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him onto the couch with her.