Sneezy, wheezy Covergirl

I'm back. After a super long hiatus. I started college, I've dealt with a lot of family things, I've started and ended a relationship

And now I finally feel like I'm in a good enough headspace to continue writing <3

I'm so excited to get back to this community. Is there anything in particular anybody wants to read? Any prompts or scenarios that anyone has been thinking about wanting to read?

Word count: 2.7k 

It was a blase October day; rainy and slightly foggy out. The wind was sharp and cold, dropping the overall temperature by at least ten degrees. It was all anyone could do, with the worsening weather, to not catch some sort of bug. It was going around the office like wildfire. Some had mild symptoms; a runny nose, a sore throat, or even none at all. Take, for example, Henrietta Davis. The office mom. She had wonderfully poofy, curly hair that went just above her shoulders. The natural honey blonde hue and freckled ivory skin earned her a lifetime of goldilocks jokes, but she just let them slide. She had a kind smile and a warm personality. She was the caretaker. The one to remember things such as birthdays and allergies when nobody else was bothered to. Unlike some in the office, Henrietta considered herself an open book; she would always say she’s got nothing to hide. But there was one thing nobody could figure out. Throughout every flu season and mid-summer cold extravaganza, almost every employee fell victim to whatever ailment made itself prevalent in the town– except for Henrietta. She liked to joke that germs just naturally avoided her out of respect.

But others weren’t so fortunate. Those ‘others’ in particular being one Octavia Reynolds. Her deep brown skin paired beautifully with her maple-coloured eyes, making her a force to be reckoned with. She had such a potential to be quite popular, if she wanted. But things…didn’t really work that way. Similar to Henrietta, she rarely showed any symptoms. Maybe the sniffles, a light cough. But nothing too extreme. She was, in her humble opinion, just too cool for the germs to touch her. 

Several employees stood around the only working water cooler in the place, just gossiping as you’d expect. One leaned in, a cocked eyebrow and a smug smirk. 

“You all coming to the bar tonight?”

Everyone in the circle agreed. 

“You think anyone’s going to beat Octavia tonight?”

A man scoffed, shaking his head. 

“She may be a bitch, but she’s damn good at pool. I don’t think anyone could beat her.”

“I think that’s the only reason she stays in this crap hole. Just to rub it in our faces every week.”

The first woman added on, a bitter shake of her head. They would’ve continued talking, but the woman of the hour showed up. 

Octavia had on one of those scowls that meant business. She said all she needed to without saying a word. She didn’t need to. It was all over her face. Everyone previously surrounding the cooler moved, as if the red sea parting for Moses. Octavia moved with purpose; not a single sway of her hips or crack of her knuckles were frivolous. She meant business. Even if it were just for something as small as getting a cup of water. 

Normally, Octavia was as silent as a mouse. Her footsteps rivalled that of a feather in the wind. She was frequently startling her coworkers with the swiftness of her movements. But not today. Her steps fell heavy, and you could hear an occasional congested sniffle coming from the woman whilst she waited for the bottle to fill up. 

She was simply getting water to warm up. For tea. It was embarrassing. Luckily, nobody dared question her as she walked away, rubbing at her nose as soon as she was out of sight. It didn’t help, unfortunately, as just a moment later, 

“K’huttsu! Hh-httsh!” 

She sighed impatiently. This was already getting annoying. Octavia sniffled harshly, exhaling through her mouth. It wasn’t like she could breathe much through her nose anyway.’ God, what elementary bullshit.’, she thought to herself, pouring the water into a kettle and rummaging through the cupboards for any resemblance of good tea. 

Luckily, there was a small packet of blueberry tea left over from…god knows where. But Octavia was desperate for any sort of remedy to soothe this…gunk she had in her system. After all, she still had a few hours before it was time to go home. Just as she started the kettle, her thoughts were interrupted. Quite suddenly, too. 

“Bless you! Are you feeling okay, Octavia? I know there’s a bit of a bug going around.” 

Octavia cringed, cursing under her breath. Of course it had to be Little Miss Perfect to find her in this state. Octavia wiped at her nose with the edge of her sleeve, turning a little with the same scowl on her face, but even more displeased, knowing that Henrietta definitely saw what just happened. 

“I’m fine. Mind your business.” 

She turned back around, hoping that was the end of the conversation. 

“Oh..well… if you want, I have some Cold & Flu meds in my desk drawer… I keep it stocked during times like these.” 

Henrietta offered a bright smile, even though it was to Octavia’s back. Octavia could just hear the smile in her voice. How frustrating. 

“I said, I’m- hhih!- f-fine.” 

Octavia pressed the back of her wrist to her nose, aggressively quelling the itch that suddenly made itself known. What an inconvenience. 

Henrietta pursed her lips momentarily, looking over Octavia’s shoulder. 

“You’re making tea? I love tea. It’s always good on a rainy day like this. My favourite type of tea is-” 

“Hh’ttshu! E’tshoo!” 

“Oh-! Bless you again. You’re…sure you’re alright?” She asked again, sounding a little dubious. Octavia kept silent, nodding. Only a small sniffle could be heard. She wasn’t fine. Octavia felt like shit. She knew she was burning up, her throat hurt like hell, and whatever the hell was happening with her sinuses was just the icing on top. 

Just as Henrietta was about to continue with what would surely be an incredibly boring lecture about health and safety, the kettle whistled. 

‘Saved by the kettle…’ Octavia thought derisively, rolling her eyes to herself and picking up the kettle off the stove and pouring it into the mug next to it. Steam billowed up from the hot drink, making her nose run. She sniffled, running the edge of her sleeve under her nose again. It was damp from the day’s events. Mainly doing exactly what she just did. Getting a box of tissues would be like shouting from the rooftops that she was sick. And Octavia Reynolds did not get sick. 

She turned, half leaning against the countertops as she sipped her tea. Henrietta raised an eyebrow. Octavia just looked sick…The half-lidded eyes, the slightly pink nose…it all didn’t bode well for Octavia’s case. 

“Let me go and grab that cold medication…I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better, really!” 

Most would have jumped at the offer. Whether it was because she was just a good caretaker, or really just being taken advantage of, was anybody’s guess. 

“I don’t. Need. your pity.” 

Octavia growled, sipping from the mug and looking just past Henrietta, as if off in the distance. She was thinking about the blissful sleep she’ll get as soon as the work day’s over. Octavia completely forgot about the weekly bar night the office held. 

Henrietta smiled sadly at Octavia. 

“Oh, come on, Octavia. You don’t look well–”

“You sayin’ I’m ugly?”

She snapped, her sniffles increasing in frequency. Henrietta’s eyes widened. 

“Oh-oh no! Not at all! You’re- you’re quite pretty….actually..”

If Octavia was paying attention, she’d notice that a blush crept up Henrietta’s neck, creeping up onto her cheeks. How embarrassing. Octavia just shook her head, pushing past her and out of the kitchen. A couple of muffled sneezes could be heard from the other room. Henrietta just sighed and shook her head. There was just no getting through to her. 

Henrietta returned to her desk and continued her work, but at a slower pace than normal. But it wasn’t her fault! Octavia never returned to her desk after their little interaction… That’s it! 

Henrietta stood back up, collecting a couple bottles of cold medicine, some tea, and a couple of soup cans and saltines in a small bag. She deposited it off at Octavia’s desk and waited. And waited. And… waited. 

Almost two hours later, Octavia still hadn’t been seen. Henrietta was beginning to get really worried! She stood up, walking out of the bullpen and down the hall, where a few conference rooms sat. 

She was beginning to think it was a dead end, looking down here was a mistake. That was, until a giant, congested sneeze came from the only room she hadn’t examined yet. Then another. Then a sickly noseblow. Henrietta cringed at the sound. Yikes… that did not sound good. She approached the door, knocking gently and peeking her head in. What met her sights was not a promising one. 

Octavia had paled quite a bit, her nose looked constantly runny, and she was slumped against the table. The light of her laptop only illuminated the bags under her eyes and the fatigue written all over her face. 

“Oh, Octavia, hun.” 

She said sympathetically, sitting down next to Octavia, who immediately sat up. Sluggish, but quick, nonetheless. With a congested sniffle, she rubbed the sleep out of her face.

“Mmm…what do you want…” 

Octavia stretched, groaning quietly. Henrietta reached out a hand to put on Octavia’s shoulder, but Octavia pulled away, stifling two snotty-sounding sneezes into her wrist. 

“H’Kutshh! H’eettssh!” 

Henrietta pulled back, a little surprised. 

“Oh- bless you.” She looked a little pensive, choosing her next words carefully. “Do you… need to go home?” She asked gently, as Octavia, (somehow, grumpily), blew her nose, a sick, gurgling sound escaping her. 

“Ndo…Go away…” Octavia grouched, too tired to even properly insult Henrietta right now. 

Henrietta was not convinced. She leaned forward, shutting the laptop. 

“Or we can pack up…go home and get some rest?” 

Octavia snatched back the laptop, shaking her head. 

“Stop- I’b fide.” She insisted, sniffling and rubbing the palm of her hand against her reddening nose. Octavia stood up, though slightly swaying, and pushed past Henrietta again. 

“Oh! Uhm- or - or maybe, you know–” She looked around, spotting a clock hanging off the wall. “It’s almost time to go home…you could just sit and wait for the day to be over?” 

She knew that her propositions fell on deaf ears as Octavia walked out of the room. Her head felt like it was full of cotton, and her nose felt just as plugged. She was borderline mouth breathing at this point, and she didn’t even care. Octavia left Henrietta in the doorway of the conference room, watching as Octavia stumbled away. 

She shook her head, sighing. Maybe this was a matter better left alone… 

A couple hours later, the work day was done, and all of the employees filed out, each headed to the local bar for a few drinks and games. The most popular one was a simple game of pool. For months now, Octavia was the reigning champion. Nobody could beat her, despite their best efforts. 

But, as it seemed tonight, Octavia wasn’t up to the task. As soon as she got to the bar she grabbed a beer and started drinking, alone, in a corner booth. She watched as her coworkers laughed and mingled about, played darts, watched football, and made stupid little drunken bets throughout the night. Nobody ever really came up to Octavia during these outings. And she was generally fine with that. Especially today. Everybody avoided her especially today, except one brave soul who asked her if she was competing today in pool; to which she hastily snapped that she wasn’t, and stalked off to get another drink.  

Drowsy and now tipsy, Octavia sat alone, contemplating whether or not she should go home before she gets too drunk, sleep whatever this is off before tomorrow. She lurched forward , for what felt like the millionth time tonight, cupping her hands over her mouth. 

“H’kittsh! E’kkktshu! Heh-Hettch!” 

Her hand dropped immediately, and she leaned back against the wooden back of the booth. She ran out of bar napkins in the nearby vicinity to use, so she resorted to the heel of her palm, rubbing at her itchy nose. The alcohol didn’t help with the sneezing, either. Octavia sighed, resting her head in her hand, letting her eyes close for just a moment. Was she drunk? Perhaps. Too sick to stay awake? Entirely probable. 

From across the bar, Henrietta was in a large circle of her coworkers, laughing and watching them all drink themselves silly. Henrietta and a couple others were usually the designated drivers, just to keep everyone safer. 

But this time, things were a little different. 

Henrietta had been watching the other woman from across the bar all night. Sneezing and drinking seemed to be the activity of the night for poor Octavia. When she gave up and just closed her eyes, Henrietta decided it was probably time to check up on Octavia again. 

She grabbed a glass of water and hauled herself over to the booth, sitting next to Octavia, who didn’t even bother to look over at Henrietta. 

“Hey, Octavia. Fun night so far?” 

She asked, sliding the water over to the other woman. Octavia just sniffled again, sounding terribly congested… Henrietta fished through her purse, pulling out a little to-go package of kleenex. She came prepared, opening it and offering a tissue over to Octavia. She had to nudge the woman’s arm to get her attention. 

Octavia sluggishly looked down at the tissues, then back at Henrietta with a confused expression. She didn’t take a tissue. Instead, she leaned closer towards Henrietta with a sly grin on her face. 

“You’re pretty…why don’t you have a boyfriend yet, hmm…?” She asked, her words slightly slurred. She sniffled again, rubbing her nose in an attempt to quell the itch. She was always more sensitive to alcohol’s effect than most. “Like…hhihh- what’s thHhih-the d-deal?” Octavia continued, a terrible itch taking over her senses for a torturous few seconds before, “Hhh’Tshh! K’iitshew! E’Eettshhu!” She snuffled wetly, giving in and taking the tissue, grateful for the softer fabric of the tissues compared to the bar napkins, as she blew her nose. It didn’t do much except create a sad, snotty gurgling sound. 

Henrietta’s eyes widened, blushing a little. “Uhm…I’m not…I don’t want a boyfriend…” She trailed off quietly. While she was advertised as an open book, there was one thing she seldom shared in her professional life; Henrietta Davis was a lesbian. She always knew she was. But nobody else did. Not even her family. 

Octavia frowned at Henrietta. “Whaatttt? You’re so pretty…and nice– I - I know so many guys, in the- in the office… they’d looooove to jump those bones-” She had a mischievous grin on her face, waving her finger in an up-down motion, while Henrietta’s blush only increased. 

“I- uhm…” She looked around, making sure nobody was looking at them. “Octavia- I’m…I’m gay..” 

Henrietta scrunched her eyes shut, prepared for the worst. She was fully expecting the other woman to react negatively. Throw water in her face, yell, something. But no. there was just silence. She slowly opened her eyes, surprised by the warm smile that was on Octavia’s face. 

“So you’re telling me…” Octavia started, scooting a little closer to Henrietta, “That I actually have a chance?” 

She leaned forward, surprising Henrietta with an, admittedly sloppy, kiss. It set off fireworks in her, until she came to her senses and pulled back. Wistfully, she looked down at Octavia. 

“You’ve been drinking, Octavia…” Henrietta murmured, a hand on the other woman’s cheek. 

Octavia’s face was flushed with a light pink; whether that was from the illness, alcohol, or from the situation at hand, it was anyone’s guess. 

“And?” She sniffled, bringing her hand up to her nose again, lurching forward. It was so sudden, she barely had time to cover it up, and some of it landed gently on Henrietta’s arm. 

“H’uttshuu! Ee’etssh! Sorry-” 

“You’re also sick. You need some rest, hun. Not a one night stand with a coworker.” She laughs softly, her voice dipping to a low tone, “As much fun as that would be…” Octavia noisily blew her nose as Henrietta talked. 

“How about I drive you home, get you better, and then we could talk, okay? You look exhausted, dear.” 

Octavia sniffled, letting her shoulders drop a little. She was exhausted. Today had been a long day, trying to act like she was fine. She eventually nodded in agreement and Henrietta smiled, happy to have finally won her over. 

Word count: 1.7k

A man with a navy blue suit walked into a high-scale restaurant, confidently walking up to the hostess stand. His light, blonde   nodding to the waitress behind the podium. “Reservation for two- the name’s Schafer.” He was led to a back table, quite private in comparison to the other tables in the venue. He sat down and looked around, waiting for his significant other to show up. It was nowhere near their first date; quite the opposite, actually. They’d been going out for almost three years now, and his partner consistently managed to impress him.

 Years of dates and meet-ups, and they’ve been late to almost every single event. Without fail. He’s taken to telling his partner the time of an event 30 minutes early, in the hopes that they might be on time. They caught onto that, unfortunately. Apparently their own family tried the same thing. 

Checking his watch, he sighed and rubbed the stubble on his jawline. He was worried the bouquet he’d brought would lose the zeal before his partner even arrived. He brushed his fingers through his blonde curls, loose spirals that fell down to his shoulders. His deep green eyes scanned the venue; still no sign of his partner. He checked his watch again. Ten minutes. He smoothed out his suit, a nervous habit of his. 

Rapid footsteps caught his attention, bringing his gaze up to a slightly out of breath person. A lopsided smile crossed his face at the sight of his partner. “Sage!” He stood up to greet his partner, kissing them and sinking into a hug with them. His hugs weren’t describable with words. Sage’s hugs were like a warm blanket just out of the dryer, or the first sip of a hot drink on a winter's day. They smelled of eucalyptus; their favourite smell. 

“Hey, Luca– sorry I’m late, I had to iron this because apparently it’s unacceptable to go out with wrinkles in your clothes-” 

They scoffed, shaking their head and sitting down. Luca chuckled, giving them a knowing look. 

“You talked to your mother before the date, didn’t you?”

Sage had a guilty look on their face, and they fiddled with the sleeve of their jacket, sniffling a little. It was a small action, one that was barely noticeable. 

“...No…” 

Luca just shook his head, reaching across the table to lace his hand in Sage’s.

“Hey, I think it’s sweet you talk to your mother every day. She has sound advice, you know.” 

Sagejust rolled their eyes, leaning back in their chair. They sniffled again. It was a bit more pronounced this time, and caught Luca’s attention. He cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. 

“She just worries too much.” 

Sage says, though there’s a loving tone to their words. Luca gasped suddenly, startling Sage in the process. 

“Oh!!! I almost forgot!” He bent down in his seat, reaching for the bouquet. Sage placed a hand over their heart, exhaling sharply. “Jesus, Luca –” He smiled apologetically, and revealed the bouquet. 

“Sorry… Here, these are for you. Sage for my Sage.” The purple flowers were tied with a sage green ribbon; just the attention to detail that made Sage fall for Luca in the first place. Luca had a proud grin on his face whilst Sage took it, examining it with a lovesick grin. “Oh, Luca– I love it…you-you shouldn’t have…” 

In their mind, alarms were going off. 

‘Oh no. This isn’t good... He put so much effort into this. If he finds out I’m allergic, he’ll be crushed–’

“Sage? You there?” Luca chuckled, looking quite proud of himself.

 “Get it? Sage….for MY Sage?” 

Sage laughed, a little too loudly in their opinion, scratching the back of their neck. This earned them an odd look from Luca, but the conversation was cut short when the waitress came over, inquiring about entrees. Luca breezed through the conversation, letting Sage sit in silence. This dynamic was favourable for both of them. Luca was the chatty Cathy in the relationship, whilst Sage tended to let actions speak louder than words. 

But there was another reason Sage was so grateful for Luca’s commandeering of the conversation. A vicious tickle blossomed in their nose, and it was all they could manage to not sneeze all over everything in the general vicinity. They leaned their elbow on the table, their hand covering the lower half of their face. 

As soon as the waitress walked away, Sage grabbed the cloth napkin in front of them, messily stifling into it, surprising Luca. 

“HH’KssH! H’etSSH!” 

Sage blew their nose, ducking their head in embarrassment. 

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to…” 

“Bless you… you alright?” 

Luca asked, clearly concerned. It was subtle, but the signs of fatigue were there. The slow, tired blinks, the slight sag in their shoulders. Something was wrong, Luca could tell. But what? 

Sage nodded, setting down the napkin with a sniffle. Their nose had a hue similar to that of a dahlia. 

“Yeah…sorry. Just a random sneeze, that’s all. Anyway-” They sighed, desperate to change the subject. “How’s the shop?” 

Luca brightened up at the subject, happily accepting the topic change. Luca was a man of many passions, but his flower shop was one of the biggest prides in his life. Luca could talk for hours on end about the shop and all the different types of plants he’s acquired over the years. 

And Sage would know, Luca has talked for hours. They once timed it. 

Sage could drown in those tropical green eyes, so full of vivacity and enthusiasm. They could lose themselves in the way he waved his hands around, demonstrating the approximate size and shape of the newest plant he got in. Sage melted as Luca’s lips turned upwards in a crooked smile whilst he described the feeling of bringing a dying plant back to life. Sage was so distracted by Luca’s infodump, that the next sneeze nearly caught them off guard. They turned in the middle of his sentence, hiding behind their hands. 

“H’utttshoo! E’kstshu! H’iitishh!”

Luca stopped in his tracks, watching his partner fall victim to this seemingly endless itch. Luca’s face contorted into one of concern. “Bless you. Are you sure you’re okay, Sage? Are you getting sick?” 

Luca reached across the table, placing the back of his hand on Sage’s forehead. Nothing. Sage pulled back, shaking their head. “Ndo.” 

They said, trying to hide the congestion that had crept into their voice. This caught Luca’s attention big-time. His frown stayed as he pulled his hand back, examining Sage again. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Sage…” Luca started, in a tone that said, ‘if you lie, I’ll know’, “Is something wrong?” Sage looked everywhere but Luca. “Ndo… ndothigd’s wrong, I’m totally- total-hhih…hh-fide!” During this time, Sage fished blindly for the cloth from earlier, grabbing it and quickly bringing it to their face. 

“K’etsshu! H’ktsshu! Aa’tshheww!” 

Luca couldn’t do anything else but watch. Three typically was their max, so Luca continued. 

“Sage, you’ve been sneezing all night-” 

Luca was cut off when Sage held up a finger.

‘No-hhihh-t done-! K’atttshu! Att’shu! God-” Sage looked exasperated more than anything. Sage noisily blew their nose, forgetting where they were for a moment until they got side-eyed by a couple of nearby patrons. 

Luca leaned in, whispering. 

“Sage- what is going on with you?” 

One guilty look towards the bouquet later, and Luca put two and two together. Mouth slightly agape, he leaned back, almost as if in shock. He looked from the bouquet to Sage, then back at the bouquet. He stood up, grabbing the bouquet and disappearing for a moment. Sage just sat there, feeling a little guilty whilst Luca got rid of the bouquet. 

Once he returned, he didn’t sit back down. Instead he motioned for Sage to get up, which they did, silently. Luca grabbed Sage’s hand, a small reminder that Luca didn’t, in fact, hate them. Once in the car, Sage couldn’t help the tears that welled up in their eyes. 

They cast their gaze towards the ground, sniffling a little. Luca glanced over and frowned. 

“Sage… my love, what’s wrong.”

They looked up, trying to unsuccessfully blink away the tears. 

“I’b sorry –  I ruined everythidg.” 

Luca looked crestfallen. He reached over, cupping Sage’s cheek. 

“Hey - Hey, look at me.” Sage met Luca’s gaze, and that was it. Any chance of keeping their composure went out the window. “You have nothing to apologise for. We’re going to get you home, and in a nice, hot bath. Alright?” 

Luca smiled softly while wiping some of their tears with his thumb. Sage burrowed their face in his hand, relishing the touch. They stayed like that for god knows how long, before Sage had to pull away again. 

“H’ettsh!” 

Sage groaned, closing their eyes and rubbing their temples. Luca snickered softly, starting the car. 

“Let’s get you home, okay?” 

Sage nodded, nearly falling asleep on the way home. Luca parked the car, gently nudging them when the couple got home. Sage made a small sound of displeasure, but got up anyway. They really wanted that bath. 

Luca ushered Sage into the bathroom, wasting no time in starting the bath. Soon enough, the water was steaming, leaving Sage a sniffly mess. Luca led Sage by the shoulders into the bath, smiling a little when Sage let out a moan of pleasure at the warmth. Sage just sat there, sniffling, while Luca gently massaged their muscles. When Luca pulled back, Sage whined. 

Luca just sighed softly, shaking his head whilst undressing. 

“Calm down, I’ll be there in a second.” 

And that he was, climbing in just a moment later. Sage leaned back against Luca’s chest, letting him massage their hair. Sage was almost completely relaxed against Luca, until-0 

“Hhih-Hkshu! K’tsssh! T’issshiu!” 

There were no tissues, so they just sneezed out into the open, the spray settling gently atop the water. 

“Mmm…Bless you, Sage. You wanna get to bed, love?” 

Word count: 2.4k  TW/CW: Sneezing/coughing fits

It was quite clear to everyone around him; Damaso was in a terrible mood. A rain cloud existed permanently over the man’s head. He stalked all across the theatre, checking in with all the crew, as per usual for him. As the lead singer of an up and coming rock band, Damaso was the face of the band. Thus, he knew how quickly one could get wrapped up in the spotlight and forget his roots. Damaso didn’t want to lose touch with what, and who, helped make every show possible. This meant checking in with crew members and getting to know each and every one of them. His crew loyally followed him and his band across the country as they grew in popularity,,  and it was due in part to how attentive the band was towards the crew that often didn’t get the credit they rightfully deserved. 

But today, while on his rounds, it was only business. No small talk, no checking in-- strictly work-related queries. And quite clipped responses, as well. Everybody was quite thrown off by this behaviour. What was normally a bright, friendly man was now an irritable…for lack of better words, mess. His hair was in a high puff on top of his head, and if you looked close enough, he was flushed. But nobody did. At least, Damaso didn’t give anyone the chance to. He was gone as quickly as he popped in-- no room for personal chats. Damaso checked in with everyone on the crew, except for two very important people. 

Ari, his best friend and loyal sound director, and Ahohako, his lighting director, primarily known to all as Damaso’s boyfriend. Both are world-class bullshit detectors, especially with Damaso himself. It doesn’t help that the man isn’t the greatest liar, either. Which is why Damaso was careful to avoid both of them as much as possible. Damaso and Ahohako had just moved in together. They had just unpacked the last box a few days ago, and it was all very new. So when Damaso detected something to be off with himself early this morning, he made sure he was out of the house before Ahohako even woke up to stop him. There was just no way he could call off a show just hours before. It would be a brutal blow to the PR of the band, and on a lesser note, Damaso would feel terrible about it. 

Once he finished his rounds, it was almost time to warm up, much to the man’s chagrin. He ducked away into his private dressing room, grateful for the hush of silence that now enveloped him. It was a nice, if not brief, respite from the hustle and bustle of cast and crew bumbling around to get ready for the show. Already exhausted, he shuffled over to the vanity that sat in the corner of the room and sighed. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed how he was feeling; terrible. His nose was runny and stuffy at the same time, his head pounded, and he was pretty sure he was beginning to run a fever. And to make matters worse, a dull itch took residence in his nose. 

From what it felt like, the useless itch was going to stick around forever. He sniffled and scrubbed at his nose, hoping to shelf away the sensation for a few moments. It only succeeded to do the opposite of what he wanted, causing his nostrils to flare and his breath to hitch. He stayed in this position for a brief moment, before the sensation overwhelmed his senses, doubling him over in the process.

“Hh’KtChhU! Heh-tSHU! Hh..H’tssh!” 

A quick triple into the empty air in front of him seemed to do the trick for right now, but it certainly didn’t make him feel better. He groaned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his face. A bit of stubble began to grow, giving him a light 5 o’clock shadow. He had felt too lethargic the last couple of days to bother with shaving at all. Maybe he’d keep it. With a small grunt, he decided it was probably best to get back out there, but not before a quick nose blow and an unsuccessful toss of the tissue into the trash. 

He sighed and mentally prepared himself for the controlled chaos that he was about to step into before opening the door and strutting out onto the stage. Absent from the warmup was a myriad of witty quips and jokes thrown around by Damaso. Aside from the occasional side-eye from his other bandmates, nothing much was said about his behaviour. Warmups came and went, and Damaso disappeared once again, quickly retreating back to the dressing room. He’d initially hoped to get a quick nap in before the shows started– But after a coughing fit that could rival that of a chainsmoker, Damaso decided that maybe a glass of water was in order first. 

A quick chug of bathroom tap water later, and he didn’t feel any better than before he drank it. He huffed impatiently, annoyed with his body. How dare it not magically become better after a room temperature cup of water? He felt like his limbs each had an invisible weight attached to it. The fever, which was questionable before, was now unwavering, and couldn’t be explained away by a simple excuse of ‘warm blood’, which had worked countless times in the past for Damaso. 

He could feel a little rush of adrenaline as he heard the crowds outside his room. It was almost time! The previous feeling of illness began to subside, making room instead for excitement. It wasn’t his first rodeo, but it was his first show whilst sick. Ugh. What a nasty word. Damaso was never a fan of the word, nor the actual physical ailment. He’d deny to the ends of the earth that anything was wrong with him, if he could help it. But it didn’t matter, not right now. All that mattered to Damaso was giving a good performance for his fans. He popped a couple cough drops like they were pills, and opened his dressing room door, hoping the excitement of the show would be enough to shake off whatever bug he’d managed to catch. 

With a sniffle, he walked out onto stage to cheers and applause. He grinned, the nasty feeling melting away, drowned out by screaming fans. Halfway through the set, something threw him off guard. A blossoming tickle in his nose. Oh dear. This wasn’t ideal. He was in the middle of a verse! And screaming it, too. As soon as the verse ended, he held the mic away from himself. He buried his nose harshly into his shirt, leaving little time to wait, lurching forward for another quick triple. Three was often his normal. If you heard two sneezes from Damaso, a third was bound to find its way out, like clockwork. 

“H’UtsShU! T’SSHu! A’atchhu!”

 A few scattered ‘bless you!’’s could be heard from the crowd amidst the cheers. The drummer, Dominik, gave him an odd look. A silent ‘Are-you-okay’ flickered briefly across his face, disappearing as quickly as it was there; a covert communication in front of the audience. Whilst scrubbing harshly at his nose that wouldn’t cooperate, he nodded at Dominik, who nodded back and started the next song without much qualm. 

This time it came as more of a surprise. There was little time to move the mic and even less time to hide away his little attack from the audience. 

“K’ttsh! H’EtSHU! Eh-sssH! Hehh…h’KTSHU!”

The fourth really caught him off guard. His reddening nose flared again, causing him to clamp his hand over it and stifling a fifth and sixth sneeze, doubling him over in the process.

 “HH’AttSHUU! T’ShU!” 

His eyes caught Dominik’s stare again. He was drumming purely on memory now, looking on in concern. This obviously wasn’t normal. He clearly wasn’t okay, and seemed to be struggling to keep up. Damaso straightened himself up, snuffling and rubbing his nose once more before grinning at the crowd. He waved at the audience and bowed, to the laughs and cheers of the fans. He had successfully turned the situation on its head, making it a funny moment, rather than a concerning show of vulnerability that many backstage knew it was. Now his previous behaviour made sense.

 Luckily, there were only a couple of songs left, which came and went without much problem. Almost an hour later, (After a short meet-n-greet that Damaso insisted on), the show was done. The rush of adrenaline was soon wearing off, and Damaso knew whatever he caught was quickly worsening. He stalked off stage after everything, shivering. Normally the stage lights made everyone sweat, they were so intense. But not for Damaso. He was freezing, pulling his leather jacket closer around himself whilst navigating his way back to his dressing room. His face was flushed under the stage makeup, which he was quickly sweating off.

 In his haze to return to the safety of his dressing room, Damaso didn’t realise his name was being called.It took being spun around by the shoulder for him to recognise the fact. On instinct, he jerked back, but smiled when it set in who was in front of him, worried expression and all. Ahohako was a bit sweaty and out of breath, placing his hand on Damaso’s shoulder whilst he caught his breath. Damaso couldn’t help the crooked smile that spread across his face. That was his boyfriend. That’s his man. Damaso brought his hand up to Ahohako’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along his cheek. “..You’re so cute.” 

This confused Ahohako, but caused a light blush to creep up his neck anyhow. He chuckled and put his hand atop Damaso’s, taking a second to just… appreciate the moment. These little bubbles of domestic bliss were few and far between, but totally worth waiting for. Their lives were constantly on the move, leaving little time for themselves. An idle sniffle from Damaso brought Ahohako back to reality, and reminded him why he was so desperate to catch up to Damaso in the first place.

“Hey…” He took Damaso’s hand off his cheek, lacing their hands together with a comforting squeeze. “Are you okay?” He took the time to examine Damaso’s physical health a bit. His nose was red and runny, his complexion was pale, and he seemed to have bags under his eyes. Was he sleeping well? Ahohako raised his own hand to Damaso’s face, cupping his cheek in a similar fashion, causing Ahohako to frown. Damaso radiated heat like a furnace, but was shivering like it was 10 degrees Fahrenheit. 

In lieu of a response, Damaso closed his eyes and sunk into the touch, letting a soft whimper escape him. It had been a long couple of days, and the comforting touch was just what he’d been yearning for. Ahohako looked on in concerned sympathy, watching the resolve of his boyfriend slowly crumble. He brought up his other hand to support Damaso’s head in his grip, but it didn’t last for long. Damaso nudged out of Ahohako’s grip in favour of planting his face into the taller man’s chest, sniffling pitifully in the process.

“Aw…mon chou~”

Ahohako hummed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend protectively. A hand rubbed his back up and down. Once again, it was just them, together, in that moment. A couple of sniffles later, Ahohako looked down at Damaso, surprised with what he was met with. Damaso was leaned against Ahohako’s chest, but instead of the sniffly, feverish man he’d been initially presented with, he was now met with a side of Damaso he’d rarely seen. Damaso clung to Ahohako, gripping the hem of his shirt and trembling, with tears welled up in his eyes. His gaze was cast towards the ground, but Ahohako knew what was happening. He clicked his tongue and brought his hand to Damaso’s cheek. This only worsened matters. A broken sob escaped Damaso’s lips, resulting in Damaso hiding his face in Ahohako’s chest.

Ahohako could feel his heart break for his boyfriend. Shows and public appearances had been so frequent lately that Damaso could barely keep up. Ahohako could tell how worn out the man was, he was just too nice to ask for a break. Ahohako resolved in his head that starting now, Damaso would be forced to take a break every few days– whether he wanted to or not. But that wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. Ahohako brought his attention back to his boyfriend who so clearly just needed someone right now. He craned his head down to kiss the top of Damaso’s head and hold him closer. 

In a bold move, Ahohako bent down and picked up his sickly significant other like he weighed nothing and walked towards his dressing room. Damaso nuzzled his tear-stained face in the nape of Ahohako’s neck whilst they walked, sniffling and rubbing at his irritated nose.

 Before Damaso could warn him-- “H’Kssh! T’etsshu!”

 Ahohako felt the light spray of Damaso’s little fit settle on his shoulder. In response, he rubbed a hand on his back and kissed the nape of Damaso’s neck. “Hmm. Bless you-” Accidentally interrupting, Damaso chimed in with another set of tired, congested sneezes. “Hhuh’tssh! Ahh’hhuttshu!” 

Immediately after, Damaso flopped his head back onto his boyfriend’s shoulder, exhausted from the day’s events.

“Sorry…”

 He croaked, to which Ahohako quickly brushed his apology off. Soon after, they arrived at the door of Damaso’s dressing room, much to the relief of Damaso, who was beginning to float in and out of consciousness on the walk over. Aside from a congested snuffle or the occasional shiver from Damaso, Ahohako could have reasonably deduced that the man had fallen asleep. 

The cool air of the air-conditioned room hit both of them, warranting a relieved sigh from Damaso. It was one step closer to his nice, soft bed. The idea was just heavenly. Luckily he didn’t have to wait much longer. Cradling his boyfriend gently, Ahohako worked to carefully set Damaso down. He shivered from the sudden removal of body heat and made his displeasure known, groaning dramatically. This earned a chuckle from Ahohako. “I’m coming, don’t worry.”

I'm willing to take requests but for right now I'd like to do OC stories only for a little if that's alright with yall :)))