yellow

I’m rummaging through a back room, having successfully slipped away from the rest of the worship party. I think I can convincingly lie that I got lost, if needed, but I’d still prefer not to be caught at all.

Jinero has his sleeve over the lower half of his face. It is kind of dusty in here. I keep stopping to cough. “What are we looking for?” His voice is a bit muffled and strained.

“A burned book. Should have been at the fire. If it’s here and I can find it, that means someone here took it.”

“Or someone took it and stowed it here.”

“Someone who doesn’t work here? They’d have to break in to do it.”

Jinero gives me an arch look. “As we are currently doing?”

“Well, yeah. But we’re trying to find something. There are easier places to stash a book than this if you don’t have easy access, but if you do, it makes a relatively secure location without risks of losing it.” I open another box. “You can help to, you know.”

Jinero takes one step forward, then doubles over in a near-silent sneeze.

I barely restrain myself from saying ‘bless you’ because I’m pretty sure they don’t say that here. “You good?”

He lifts his head, blinks hazily, and nods. He comes a few steps closer and crouches next to the box. One of his hands moves to lift a large candlestick out of the way—then flies back to his face as he executes another near-silent sneeze.

I stare at him. “Are you okay?”

The next sneeze is also strangled into silence. Jinero waits another moment, then nods. “Fine.”

It is dusty. I go back to rummaging around.

Two minutes later, Jinero sneezes again. Then another time in another minute. Then again the next. He rubs his nose with a handkerchief.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.

“F-fine,” he says, sounding moderately less confident.

“Okay,” I disbelieve. Jinero catches that and frowns at me.

“I am fine.”

“Something’s setting you off,” I say. “Are you allergic to dust?”

“Allergic?”

“Does dust usually bother you?”

Jinero frowns. “No more than anyone else, I would say.”

Yeah, that’s true. I dragged him into the basement once and there was dust there and we did sneeze, but not as much as he’s doing now. It seems to be ramping up, too. Jinero doubles over with two in a row, both tightly controlled. He looks a little winded when he comes back up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask again, then add, “Be honest.”

He hesitates. “I’m not sure.” Then sneezes.

“Okay. Um.” I don’t want to come back later, not after we’ve already gotten here, but I also don’t want Jinero to slowly sneeze himself to death. I also don’t want to send him out there alone, sneezing his head off. If he stays in here too long, is that going to trigger a bad allergic reaction? Is it dangerous to leave him alone?

Fuck it. I can try to find other evidence later, or come back alone for the book. Jinero is not replaceable. “Let’s go.”

“But the book-”

“Another time. Let’s go.” I grab Jinero’s wrist and start to move toward the door. And freeze.

“Tiran?” Jinero whispers breathily, anxiously, at my shoulder.

There’s footsteps on the other side of the door. Heading this way. “People,” I whisper. “We need to hide.”

Jinero’s face goes ghost-white in the dim lighting of the room. “Wh-” Before he can get any other words out, I drag him backward into the room and look around.

Mostly boxes. A wardrobe that might be big enough for both of us, depending on what’s in it. A closet that definitely has enough space, but is only shielded from the rest of the room by a fabric barrier.

Shit. I go to the wardrobe and throw it open. Nope, also full of boxes. Unless Jinero wants to reveal some impressive contortionist skills and hide in there on his own, it’s a no-go. Either crouch behind some boxes or into the closet we go.

I scramble to the closet and duck behind the cloth. There are also boxes in here, but far fewer. I move to the back of the closet and press my back to the wall.

It’s just in time. The door to the room opens.

I also realize there’s a faint smell in the air. Not a bad one, sort of light and flowery. It must be coming from the boxes here. Actually, it’s familiar. It’s incense. Not the same one they burn in our temples back home, just a bit different.

Jinero makes a strangled noise just as I realize my mistake.

He’s not allergic to dust. He’s allergic to whatever this incense is. It’s been setting him off since we got into the room. And I just pulled him into a closet full of it.

Fuck. I’ve ruined this. If we’d stayed out in the room itself, I could have played up us being lost. Maybe even said Jinero had been sneezing and we’d ducked aside to get some privacy for him to recover. They’d have been suspicious, but I think it’d have been believable enough that could have let us go.

But hiding in a closet is way too suspicious. Now we look guilty, it’s way harder to play this off, and there’s at least one other person in the room with us while Jinero’s breathing starts to change.

I do the first thing I can think of, which is pull him into a hug so his nose is pressed to my shoulder. He nuzzles in, hopefully quelling a little of the itch.

Not enough, though, because he freezes, then starts taking in little, quick, tremulous breaths. One of my hands is on his back and I can feel him shift with every inhale.

“Hh-hiih-huh-hhhuhhh-”

He’s clearly trying his best, I’m just worried it won’t be good enough. If he sneezes, we’re fucked.

As soon as I think that, he jerks with a tiny, well-controlled sneeze. I feel it a lot more than I hear it, because his entire body shakes and his arms lock around me. The other person in the room definitely didn’t hear it over the sound of their own footsteps.

If he can keep doing that, we’re probably fine. I just don’t think he can, because as soon as he takes the next inhale, he’s gearing up for another.

“Rub your tongue against the roof of your mouth,” I breathe into his ear. The only other way that’s worked for me is humming, which is obviously not an option. Jinero’s jaw shifts, so I think he’s doing it. His breathing doesn’t stabilize, but it doesn’t get worse.

The other person is shuffling around the room like they’re looking for something. I hear the bang and shift of boxes moving. Oh, god, if they come into the closet… This was not a well-thought-out plan.

Jinero makes a quiet, desperate noise and sneezes again. It’s still nearly silent, but there’s more force behind it. My back is braced against a wall, but I’m basically holding Jinero up at this point. He’s shorter than me, but not by that much, and not that much skinnier, either. I don’t know how long I can support him, and the closet is standing-room only.

The other person is still fucking in here. What are they doing? Looking for something? Only I’m allowed to do that!

Jinero draws in a massive, gasping breath and sneezes. There’s a little sound this time, still too quiet to be heard by the other person, but it’s definitely not going to stay that way. Jinero also barely takes a break before gasping into another. He manages to stop himself going into a third, but it’s clear his entire body wants to and he’s holding it back by a desperate act of will.

I rub his back. “It’s okay. You got this. You have control.” I scratch my fingers against the back of his head. I can’t reach his nose from this angle, and I’m terrified any kind of touch there is going to make him explode, but maybe scratching somewhere else will help, psychologically?

He immediately sneezes again. Maybe not.

His nose must be too stuffed to breathe through anymore, because he’s panting against me, huffing in and out in short, desperate breaths. Which means he can’t rub his tongue on the roof of his mouth. He’s rubbing his nose against my shoulder, but I think it’s getting too damp to quell the itch anymore. Also, the other person is still in here why are they still here I want to fucking kill them arrgggh!

Jinero gasps in and sneezes. This time, there’s a distinct sound, a sharp “ChH’TCH!” into my shoulder. The other person pauses, all movement ceasing.

Oh fuck. Jinero clearly doesn’t notice, because he’s inhaling again, but if he sneezes now, any sound he makes, even a little one, is going to give us away.

So I wait until he’s at the top of the inhale, grab a fistful of his hair, and yank.

He makes a noise, but it’s a tiny, startled squeak, barely loud enough for me to hear. The sneeze is startled right out of him—it’ll be back soon, but I’m praying this bought us enough time.

The other person is still for only a few seconds longer, then they sigh. There’s another bout of walking, the shuffling of materials, and then, blessedly, mercifully, the footsteps head for the door.

“Little longer,” I whisper to Jinero. “Little longer, just a little bit longer-”

He pulls himself closer to me to muffle another sneeze against my shoulder. This time, I catch a still-quiet but absolutely desperate, “-shoo!” at the end. He’s immediately gasping into another sneeze just as the door opens, and the other person steps out.

With a final, satisfying bang, the door closes behind them and we’re alone in the room again.

Jinero does not wait for an invitation. His head snaps back with a massive inhale, then he’s burying his face against me as his entire body convulses with sneezing.

“Etchoo! Etchoo! Haaahh’tschieuu! T’chieuu! Choo! At’SCHIEEEW!”

He’s trying to muffle them at first (good call, I don’t know how soundproof that door is, or how far away that person went), but it’s a losing battle. We need to get out of the closet.

“HhupCHIUU! AT’SHIEW! AHH-HATSCHOO! Nnn… heh! Heh! Het’CHIEW! AHHSHOO!”

The issue is that he’s sneezing so hard he’s basically gone limp and is just hanging off me to stay upright. Most of him is floppy as a doll, only his hands braced against my clothes with an iron grip.

“Jinero,” I say over his hysterical sneezing, “we need to move.”

He snuffles and chokes back a sneeze just long enough to start shuffling back out of the closet. I sweep the curtain aside and half-help, half-push him into the fresh—well, fresher air.

The instant he’s free, he all but collapses, bracing himself on his hands and knees on the ground, propelled by the force of his next sneeze.

“HHAAAAA’TXHIEUU! ATSCHIOOOO! ATSHIUUU! SHOO! CHOO! Ah…ahhh… haHAHAT’CHIEUU!”

I crouch next to him and rub his back. “Here. Handkerchief?” He takes mine, the one I usually keep stored in my sleeve. Hopefully it didn’t get any incense on it, but Jinero doesn’t seem bothered, or at least not noticeably bothered. He needs to brace himself against me, because he doesn’t have enough strength to hold himself up on three limbs whole clutching a handkerchief to his face. One of his hands grips, claw-like, at the fabric at my waist. I keep patting his back.

“AAAAATCHIOOO! ASHOOOOO! ATCHIEEEIUW! HASHOO! HATSHOO! HAH-HAH-HAAAAHHHHHTCHIEEEUUUUW!”

Geez, he really was holding back before. These sneezes are all but screamed out, his head snapping back and forth with the effort of them. I’m starting to worry he won’t recover in this room, and I don’t know about taking him out into the corridor. Stone halls make great echo chambers, and everyone in the building could hear him if he keeps going like this.

Uh, okay. New plan. I need to try something else.

“Jinero, look at me.” I need to manipulate him up off my shoulder, because he’s too boneless to move on his own. Once I have his face in front of me, I position my hands on either side of it, fingers splayed across his cheeks and thumbs on either side of his nose. His face is a little wet and sticky. I ignore that.

Instead, I brace my thumbs and massage little circles against his sinuses. They’re swollen—poor guy’s going to have the worst sinus headache when all this is over. But I think this’ll ease things, at least long enough to find a room with a window.

“Jinero? Is that better?” I keep up the massage. You need a decent amount of pressure for this. Anything light is liable to tickle more.

His nose twitches. His nostrils flare. His brows are lifted, drawn together in a near-questioning gaze, and his eyelids flutter over eyes shiny with unshed tears. His lips quiver over a half-parted mouth, which keeps drawing in unsteady breaths.

He’s a person who absolutely has to sneeze, who’s right on the edge of sneezing. But he’s not sneezing. He looks sort of hypnotized, though I’m not sure if that’s the massage or if the urge is so intense it’s taking over his brain. His hand slides to my thigh, loosely clutching at the fabric.

“We need to move,” I tell him. He doesn’t nod or speak, but he gets easily to his feet when I tug on him.

It’s a hard position to walk in. I basically have to turn sideways with my head pointed forward while Jinero stumbles along next to me. But it won’t be for long. I know the way back out. We climb the stairs (thankfully not running into anyone else) and get to the main floor. Two doors down, past another cloth barrier, there’s a writing room that, thankfully, has an open window.

I get us inside and let go of Jinero. He collapses into the nearest chair. The hand with the handkerchief hovers in front of his face. His other hand clutches at mine.

For a moment, there’s silence. I wonder if my massage actually managed to fix things, but Jinero’s breath is still shivery, that hazy look on his face still present. He takes a quavering inhale, then another. His mouth hangs open, his eyes shimmer as they focus on something distant. Then, finally, something triggers. His eyes drop shut, his mouth opens even wider, and his expression snarls as he takes three rapid inhales and sneezes.

“Hh-haahh-haahh-haaaTCHIEUUU! ASHOO! AHHHHH’TCHIOO! ESHOO! ET’SHIUU! T’CHOO! CHOO! Hhhuh…hhhuhhhh…hhh…snf. Snf. Huh! HAH! HAATCHIEUUU! HATSHOO! ASHOOOOO! SHOO! ATCHOO! AH! AHHH! AHTCHOO!”

I switch the hand Jinero is holding to I can rub his back. He seems exhausted. I guess sneezing too much is a lot of effort. I don’t really have allergies, so I wouldn’t know. I’m still concerned he’s going to have a really bad reaction, but the continued sneezing is probably a good sign, there. If he’s still sneezing, his throat isn’t closing up.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to be nice and soothing. “It’ll be over soon.”

Jinero squeezes my hand, the only method of communication available to him right now. I hope that means he likes it and doesn’t think it’s condescending as fuck.

“ATCHOO! ESHOO! Ehhh… ehh…ESHOO! Hhh! Hhhhhh! Huh! Hahh! HaahhhAHHAT’CHIEUUU! HatCHIeeu! EshOO! Nn… hnn snf.”

Jinero slumps over. I don’t think he’s done, exactly, but he’s clearly winding down. He sniffs again and finally manages to blow his nose. It’s extremely gentle and still triggers a “Hhhhh! Hat’CHOO!” out of him.

“We’re going to need to bathe,” I tell him. There’s dust on our clothes and in his hair and probably, at this point, up his nose. He needs a thorough washing. We both do, probably.

“There-” he tries, and I’m immensely proud of his first word emerging since he started sneezing. “There’s… nn..” He rubs his nose and takes a quick shivery breath. “There’s a… a… ahh…”

“You can sneeze first,” I say. He shakes his head.

“A b-bath house near… near…” His eyes slide out of focus. His handkerchief half lifts in front of his face. His expression twitches, then his nose. The hand in mine tightens.

“N-near…” He’s still trying to get the word out, but it’s breathy, faint, almost an afterthought. His nose gives another twitch and he reels back.

"Nnnn- ah! Hhahhh ahhh ahh! Ahhh! AAHHHT’IHSHIEEEUUU!” This time, there’s no immediate fit, just a loud, aggressive sneeze. Jinero groans and rubs his nose.

“You seem to be sneezing less,” I encourage. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” Jinero says. “But the ihh-itch is still abominable.” He gives his nose a tentative rub.

“We’re probably going to need to pour water up your nose to clear your sinuses,” I warn him.

Immediately, his expression slackens. His nose twitches and he barely gets the cloth over it before he bursts out with a “Eht’CHIIEEUU!”

“Maybe,” he says once he’s done, “we don’t talk about anything going up my n-nose for a bit.”

“Done,” I say. “Are you almost ready to go?”

“I’m not s-sure,” he says. His expression’s still hazy. “I still feel… th-there mi-ihh-might be a few more that need to get out.”

I pull up a chair and sit next to him. “Whenever you’re ready, then.”

He gives a tight, controlled smile. Then waits.

It doesn’t take long. After only a few breaths, his nose twitches. His expression slackens again. He lifts the handkerchief, hovering it in front of his face. “Hh…Hhh! Nnn… hh? Hhh?”

He’s definitely lost steam. These breaths are soft, hesitant, like he’s not sure they’re really going to come. His head tilts back as his chest swells. “Hhhh? Hh-hh-hh?”

The next breath catches and confirms things. “HhhhHHH! Hah! Hat’choo! At’chooo! Tchiew! Tchoo!”

His last couple sneezes are squeakier, less aggressive. He pulls his face out of his handkerchief, breathes, and ducks back down for another, “Tchiew!”

“Those sneezes are kind of cute,” I tell him. He snaps his head toward me, startled, then pauses. His breathing snags. The hand holding the handkerchief doesn’t move to cover his face, just flutters loosely.

Then he doubles over into a series of tiny little sneezes. “Tch! Tchoo! T’choo, t’choo, tch, tch, tch, tchtchtchtchTCHOO!”

He rears back, expression still hazy. The hand on mine clings, like a lifeline. He inhales once, shaky. Another, just as tremulous. Then, three quick little breaths. Then, “Ahhahh! AHT’CHIEUU!”

That one had sounded particularly cleansing. Jinero slumps over, groans, and blows his nose. This time, he doesn’t sneeze.

“Better?” I ask.

“Incredibly,” he says. He sniffs. “There’s still an itch, but I think I’m done.”

“Good.” I stand up. “Then baths for both of us.”

“Yes,” Jinero agrees. “And perhaps we can find someone to wash our clothes, as well.”

We start to leave. As we approach the doorway, I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Jinero cuts his eyes sideways at me. He doesn’t say anything.

“It’s my fault you were here, and that happened to you,” I say.

“Yes,” Jinero says. Not accusingly, more like he’s just acknowledging what I’m saying.

“I thought it would be fine, but it wasn’t, and I’m sorry,” I finish up. Man, I suck at apologizing.

“Tsukishima.”

“Yes, Koito?”

“Second Lieutenant Koito.”

Koito watched from the corner of his eye as Tsukishima smirked at the correction, and would have found it playfully arousing if he wasn’t already at breaking point.

“Yes, sir?” Tsukishima responded, and then – as he had done, possibly hundreds of times before, that afternoon alone – sniffled loudly enough that Koito’s cock actually throbbed in his pants, quite visibly.

“Ungh…” He grunted at the pleasure of the involuntary contraction, reaching down to grip his cock in order to – what, stave off orgasm? He didn’t know if it was working. If anything, it seemed like a mistake. Now he had himself in his grip, he wanted to jerk himself off right through his trousers. His eyes turned hesitantly towards Tsukishima, who was looking absentmindedly out of the window. A total fucking farce, considering Koito had addressed him directly - and there was absolutely zero chance he hadn’t heard that moan.

Koito swallowed, thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t care about composure and good manners or professionalism. He started to squeeze and massage himself, moaning in earnest at how fucking good it felt after hours of heart-pumping suspense.

Tsukishima snuffled again – thickly, suggestively – and Koito felt his orgasm hurtling onwards, an embarrassingly speedy oncoming of pleasure.

Sergeant Tsukishima’s hayfever had been bothering him for the better part of a week, now; bothering Tsukishima but torturing Koito. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to just lock the pair of them up in a private room and fuck every tickly sneeze out of Tsukishima, preferably throughout and up to the very end of allergy season. He’d been an insatiable mess. He’d never had so many orgasms in such a consecutive number of days, but he simply couldn’t stop touching himself. His body responded eagerly – especially when he and Tsukishima were able to sneak away together and it wasn’t just him orgasming in a water closet, or some empty room, or behind some tree like a garden-variety pervert. He’d been mildly concerned when he came the day before and didn’t ejaculate at all, then blushed deeply to realise he’d actually depleted himself of seminal fluid for his efforts.

Sneezes came frequently and easily for Tsukishima – when pollen tickled his little nose, nostrils as exposed as they were, he really had very little say in the manner. Gruff, violent, desperate and wet – so, so wet – they were everything Koito could have dreamed of and more. He did dream about them, in fact – it seemed his day-time excursions were not enough and he’d been waking up to the shivering contractions of orgasm with the imagined sound of Tsukishima’s allergic reactions ringing in his ears, fading into silence as his pleasure ebbed.

He’d long loved Tsukishima’s allergies, and Tsukishima loved that Koito loved them. This wasn’t their first time dealing with the intense arousal that springtime brought their way – and yet this time round it was so much more intense. Koito wondered if it was to do with the fact that they had had even less opportunity to indulge than prior years – limited access to private accommodation, a lot of hands on work; whatever it was, it had him rocking back and forth in chairs, unable to sit still, pacing like a little boy. The unending message his body was sending was clear – get me off, and get me off now.

Tsukishima matched his energy effortlessly; an exceptionally sexually charged individual on a day to day basis, Koito knew that seeing him so worked up was like an aphrodisiac for Tsukishima in itself. It was a perfect arrangement – or, would have been, were they able to spend hours a day fucking it out of their system. Instead, they were settling for quick and desperate hand-jobs in random office spaces and other heated exchanges. Yesterday Koito had simply wedged his thigh between Tsukishima’s and they’d unthinkingly humped their way to orgasm within moments, pulling away exhilarated but embarrassed, and fumbling to deal with the messy and obvious aftermath.

Today they actually did have an element of privacy – boring, administrative tasks that neither of them wanted to complete lay strewn on the desk that Koito currently bent over as he squeezed himself stupid. Tsukishima had taken his short break to peer aimlessly out of the window. The work needed doing, and they’d been making progress until then. Upon starting their work Koito felt, if anything, spurred on by the promise of opportunity. The work needed doing, and they’d been allocated a quiet and isolated location to do so. Once they started fucking, he doubted they’d be able to stop – and so it had been an unspoken agreement that they would work first, fuck later.

It should have been manageable. They’d fucked earlier in the day, and Koito had cum multiple times since – once into Tsukishima’s damp handkerchief following an aggressive sneezing fit he had watched intensely from across the room. Tsukishima’s sneezing had even decreased upon their arrival at their recent workspace – well away from the blossoming plants on the other side of the army base. There was no reason he, a grown man, should be unable to restrain himself. Except for one.

Tsukishima hadn’t been sneezing, but he had been doing every other manner of arousing behaviour often exhibited by the miserably allergic: snuffling, hitching, rubbing at his itchy, pink little nose until the squishy, wet clicking sound of his damp sinuses echoed out into the room – going straight to Koito’s dick. It seemed the Sergeant wanted and desperately needed to have a good sneeze, but they endlessly evaded him. Every now and then, his expression would go hazy, almost pensive; he would stare off into the distance, nostrils fluttering and mouth dropping open just so to reveal the tip of his tongue as he seemed to mentally plead with a potential sneeze to arrive. Of course, they never did, and he’d be left with an even more dissatisfied, tickly nose that needed to be rubbed and rubbed, whilst Koito would be left with a perpetually rock-hard dick and the urge to grind his teeth to dust in frustration.

There had been a small respite – several minutes, perhaps – where Tsukishima did not sniffle, or attempt to clear his sinuses, or bully his poor little nose with his fist. Koito had thought he may actually be able to get through this boring document after all. And then Tsukishima had sniffled in such a congested and obscene manner that Koito could literally feel all restraint seeping out of him.

He'd been intending to ask Tsukishima to blow his nose, maybe even leave him in peace for a while if he insisted on being such a massive tease. But now that his own hand was squeezing him tight, he didn’t care. Damn it all, he couldn’t deal with administrative duties in this state. He was merely an animal, when it came down to it. He would numb himself with this self-inflicted orgasm, and then he was bending Tsukishima over this godforsaken desk and fucking him so hard and so long that the Sergeant would hardly be able to walk tomorrow.

“…You were saying, Sir?”

Koito nearly blushed at the realisation he’d addressed Tsukishima, then actually started to fuck his fist without so much as uttering another word to him. God, this desire was something else. Ridiculous. He cleared his throat, but didn’t stop fondling himself.

“Tsukishima - you need to blow your nose, or you need to sneeze. Your incessant sniffling is unprofessional and unbecoming for a man of your ranking – not to mention in front of your superior officer.”

It was a game they loved to play – the inclusion of career-based ranking in the bedroom, and the pleasure to be derived from both affirming and uprooting their relative positions of power. Tsukishima peered back at him with devilish eyes, practically burning with desire – all whilst maintaining a veritable mask of composure. Koito didn’t know how he did it; his own poorly concealed facial expressions and ill temper were a frequent source of trouble in his personal and professional life.

“My apologies, Second Lieutenant.” Tsukishima practically purred. Koito knew he’d never been less sorry in his life. “If it’s all the same, I’d much rather sneeze.”

Koito swore, eyelids fluttering as his cock throbbed. He hesitated for a split second before unbuttoning his trousers, liberating his swollen, leaking erection and squeezing it in his hand, hard. He was so wet that he could collect the liquid at his tip and stroke it down his length, spreading it like oil and hissing in pleasure. He glanced back up at Tsukishima, satisfied to see him fully turned to face him, leaning cooly back against the windowsill and staring with striking intensity as Koito masturbated in earnest, spreading his legs and sinking into his chair.

“You’d best go ahead and sneeze, then, Sergeant.” Koito managed to maintain an unwavering firmness that he was proud of. “I cannot afford for either of us to be so continually distracted by your nasal unruliness.”

Tsukishima’s lips curled into an amused smile at that. The pageantry turned them both on immensely, especially so when it existed as the sole veneer to an unrelenting animalistic lust, threatening to boil over at any moment. He shifted, almost squirming, and Koito was delighted to see Tsukishima’s own cock standing proud, tenting the material of his uniform.

“Is that an order, Sir?” He said, reaching up to rub at his pink, fluttering nostrils. Koito shuddered, then slowed the pace he had set on himself, desperate not to cum without hearing at least one sneeze from his lover; the sight and sound of him worrying at his gorgeous, expressive nose was unbelievably erotic. If he kept that up, and Koito continued his stroking and thrusting whilst watching him, he had no doubt he’d be cumming in seconds. He swallowed, concentrating on maintaining an even and calm breathing pattern, even as his giddy heart beat bruises against his rib cage.

“It is, Sergeant. I expect you to sneeze efficiently, and promptly.”

Tsukishima offered him a further predatory grin; Koito shivered again, feeling absolutely electrified. The anticipation of the explosions to come – the numerous sneezes, and his own blissful orgasm – was the sweetest kind of torture.

“Yes, Sir – as you wish.”

Koito watched, enraptured, as Tsukishima brought the pinkie finger of his right hand up to his nose, circling the rim of his nostril, which flared delicately. He gently inserted the finger into his nose, and they both sighed simultaneously – Koito in intense arousal, Tsukishima in faint irritation.

It was a method of manual teasing that Koito had always enjoyed – not that he didn’t enjoy all of the ways Tsukishima could be coaxed to a sneeze. There was something particularly pleasing, however, about the way his love would tickle his own nose this way – by pressing a nail to the delicate tissue in his nostril and increasing the pressure until he had no choice but to erupt with a desperate, all-consuming sneeze (or many). No doubt it was the vulgarity of it – the audacious rudeness of a full-grown man sticking a finger up his nose, the sheer desperation it belied in addition to the taboo of such a self-indulgent action…it was so many things. Either way, Koito felt the temperature of the room soar as he gradually resumed the previous pace of his squeezing hand, fixated on the subtle tics and twitches of Tsukishima’s expression as he teased and teased.

This wouldn’t take long – for either of them. Tsukishima’s nostrils were already so sensitive and over-stimulated; they flared angrily, pink and quivering, the slick around the rims catching the light of the pleasant spring afternoon. His eyebrows rose higher and higher as his itchy, leaking eyes started to close, the sneeze beginning to build in earnest. Koito couldn’t hold back a groan, thigh muscles twitching violently as the pleasure gathered in his groin. The sweet friction of his hand felt heavenly; he moaned again, noticing how Tsukishima’s mouth, now hanging open and displaying his curling tongue as it pressed pleadingly against his bottom teeth, seemed to twitch at the corners in response. He had no doubt the Sergeant would be smiling in deep appreciation at his wantonness, were his face not so occupied in crumpling under the demands of his thoroughly tickled nose.

To Koito’s delight, Tsukishima’s breath started to hitch audibly – at first with delicate little mewls, then steadily into chest-jumping gasps, stretching and straining the buttoned uniform on the smaller man’s muscled torso.

“HH-!! HUHh!! HUHD’T-!!”

Fuck. It was all so overwhelming, so unbelievably arousing; Koito could hardly breathe. His limbs tingled. His head felt simultaneously heavy and floaty – his brain a useless mush in his skull, weighty yet feathery light. He was so, so excited; for hours he had suffered, and he was finally right on the edge of release. He groaned again, entirely without restraint, as Tsukishima continued to tickle himself, huffing and straining. He watched as the Sergeant’s head started to tip back, face a miasma of irritation as his finger moved ever-so delicately, bullying the tickle along. Absolutely stunning; the perfect portrait of a man held on the torturous precipice of a sneeze. Koito could look upon his face in this manner for the rest of his life and never grow bored of it, he was sure. Watching placid, stony-faced Tsukishima surrender to a tickle – the juxtaposition of the man’s regular guarded expression and this one of total submission – was truly unlike anything else.

“HUHH!! HH’GKK-!!!”

Koito willed himself to hold on, just a few more seconds as Tsukishima was teetering on the edge of his own release, long enough to observe his collapse uninterrupted by body-shaking pleasure. The Sergeant paused for one, two seconds with that definitive gasp to fuel the explosions – enough time for Koito to appreciate him in all his hideous abandon – and then he was pitching forward in a deafening exclamation of a sneeze.

“-HH’EIIIISHHH’OOOhh!!”

Ohh, god. Koito would never get over how sexy every single one of Tsukishima’s sneezes were. The utter desperation of that most recent beauty – so demanding, so utterly irresistible as it tore out of his love’s sinuses in a burst of dense, glittering spray – made his cock lurch with a pre-orgasmic spasm. Koito gasped, open-mouthed and practically drooling as Tsukishima reared back for another one, finger still pressing into his delicate nasal cavity, tickling himself far beyond his threshold.

“HEH’EEIDDZZ’SHOOhhh!! EEEIISHHHhhh-!!”

Koito’s hand was a blur over his crotch; his body started to press back further into the chair, legs tensing and tightening as his orgasm started to crest. Through unblinking eyes he watched the twirling clouds of droplets as they danced through the air; the heady result of the first sneeze disturbed by that of the second, twinkling in the shafts of light before dissipating to the ground in gentle spatters.

The thought of being caught directly in that spray, the familiar sensation of it settling over his heated, naked skin was ultimately what pushed Koito over the edge. As Tsukishima practically roared out a fourth sneeze, an impressively violent “HEHHDTZZ’SHHOOHhh!!!”, Koito was overwhelmed by an orgasm of heart-stopping proportions. He gasped, shivering in pleasure as his cock spat in rhythmic spasms, streaking across both the underside of the table before him and, to his dismay, the lower portion of the document near its edge. The dismay morphed into a perverse satisfaction that only fueled his orgasm, prolonged by a fifth and final sneeze from Tsukishima.

“hHEIHH’YIDSHHHH’OOohhh!!!”

Koito moaned weakly, able to watch in helpless, trembling ecstasy as Tsukishima sneezed twin strands of clear mess onto the shimmering floor, narrowly missing his own hand as he finally extracted his finger. The Sergeant appeared dazed for just a moment, looking as though he might be moments away from losing balance – they had been particularly fierce, unrelenting sneezes, even for him – but then he was righting himself, gazing back at Koito. He snuffled back the mess, nostrils an obscene shade of tortured pink, and his tongue darted out to lick his spit-slick lips clean. Koito’s eyes dropped to his crotch, and as if having received an unspoken command, Tsukishima unbuttoned his trousers in an instant.

If he wasn’t still winded by his own magnificent orgasm, Koito would have crawled on his knees towards his Sergeant to take him into his mouth and eagerly swallow his pleasure down. Unfortunately, he was currently incapable of anything but twitching and moaning like a total moron, and Tsukishima seemed to have no desire to delay climax any longer. He spat into his palm, almost business-like as he fucked his own fist three, four, five times, and then his cock was spasming, knees buckling as he groaned low and long, clutching the windowsill behind him to stay upright. Koito’s spent cock twitched painfully, appreciatively in filthy satisfaction as he watched Tsukishima paint the much-abused, spray covered floor before him with streaks of semen.

Tsukishima slumped against the windowsill and sighed, beatific and serene in post-orgasmic afterglow. He tipped his head back, eyes closed and a smile splitting his face, swaying gently as he relished in the full-body satisfaction Koito also shared in, watching the older man from his seat with soft, reverent eyes.

The Sergeant gathered himself, clearing his throat before dabbing with a handkerchief at his dripping eyes, then his poor, pink nose – and finally, wiping at his softening cock, squeezing it indulgently for a moment before tucking the soiled fabric into his pocket. He always carried several on his person this time of year – even more since meeting Koito, as necessary.

“Well, Sir,” He said, tucking himself away, irritatingly composed whilst Koito remained slumped and panting, dripping cock in hand. “Was that to your satisfaction?”

Koito huffed out a small laugh, resting the back of his clean hand against his forehead in semi-dramatized exhaustion.

“Indeed it was, Sergeant Tsukishima. Perhaps excessively so.” He grimaced at the damage before him. Semen on his trouser legs, on the table, on the documents…He cleared his throat, forcing himself to regain composure.

“Hajime…” He smiled sheepishly at Tsukishima, dropping their hierarchical play and acting as much the spoilt, younger party of the couple that he was - and which Tsukishima reluctantly adored. He motioned towards his cum-streaked desk, his wilting, sticky cock. “Please help me.”

Tsukishima smiled, sniffling delicately and extracting a clean handkerchief from his pocket.

Mini Crash Course on Plants + Pollen

What's the deal with plants? Like, where do I start if I know...nothing? You can start right here!! Okay, so there are a lot (and I do mean a lot) of different ways we classify plants. For the purposes of this post, I'm going to to break down a few of the key ones in a way that (hopefully) isn't too overwhelming.

The Linnaean Classification system: This is the standard method of classifying all living organisms, using taxonomic binomial nomenclature (a formal, 2-part naming system in Latinized forms).

🌱 FUN FACT: Common names of plants often vary from region to region, culture to culture, and era to era. You can learn a lot from a plant's common name, and often a lot more from its binomial nomenclature. For example, the plant known as Common Sneezewort (Achillea ptarmica) derives its binomial species name (ptarmica) from the Greek word ptairo ("sneeze") which means "causes sneezing!" -- Thus, the plant's full scientific name translates to "Yarrow that causes sneezing." Pretty on[in?]-the-nose if you ask me.

Do all plants produce pollen? Nope! Not all plants produce pollen. I've put together the following chart which helps break down how we further classify plants --specifically in the context of what plants produce pollen and how they are pollinated, which all leads us to understanding what makes them more/less allergenic and why...we'll get into shortly.

Why do plants produce pollen, and what exactly is pollination? It's how plants get it on, bay-bee! 🐝 Pollination is how the male parts of a plant transfer genetic material to the female parts of the plant, allowing plants to produce seed and fruit, and ensure the genetic diversity of its species is maintained. Let's talk about it!

Reproductive Categories: Both Angiosperms (flowering) and Gymnosperms (non-flowering) have male structures which produce pollen and female structures which develop seeds and fruit.

In Angiosperms, the part of a flower containing the male reproductive organs is called the stamen. At the tip of the stamen is the anther, which is where pollen is produced! The part of a flower containing the female reproductive organ is called the pistil, which contains the ovary. Once fertilized by pollen, this part develops into the mature fruit/seed.

Flowers (and cones) can be male, female, or bisexual -- and there are even more categories I'm not going to get into but...Nature is queer, y'all! And it's awesome.

Monoecious plants have both male and female unisexual flowers on the same plant, which means they are self-pollinating. Examples include: Birch, Oak, Spruce, and Pine trees; and vegetables like pumpkins, cucumbers, corn and tomatoes. Dioecious plants have unisexual male and female parts on separate plants, and need to be cross pollinated in order to produce seed. Examples include: Juniper, Poplar, Maple, and Willow trees; and vegetables like asparagus and spinach.

🌱 FUN FACT: On monoecious conifer trees, female cones grow on the upper branches of the tree, where they can be fertilized by the pollen of male cones blown upwards from the wind.

Okay, so exactly how are plants pollinated? Biotic Pollination (by animals - primarily insects, but also birds and small mammals). In exchange for pollination services, these plants provide animals with food (pollen is very high in protein and nutrients).

Abiotic Pollination (by natural phenomenons - like wind, rain, or water). These are strong, independent self-pollinating plants who don’t need no bugs.

What makes some plants more allergenic than others? It all has to do with how they're pollinated!

Insect-pollinated plants generally tend to be the least allergenic, as the pollen grains are generally larger and stickier, allowing them to easily stick to insect bodies. I mean, just look at these guys. They’re absolutely lost in the sauce:

Wind-pollinated plants, on the other hand, tend to be the most allergenic as their pollen grains are smaller and lighter. They also tend to produce a lot more of it in quantity, since their distribution method is a lot less targeted (they rely on the variable forces of wind and water vs relying on, say, a bee that is reliably going to fly from flower to flower).

Depending on the anatomical structure of a species’ flowers, it may be both animal and wind-pollinated. Privet, for example, is primarily insect-pollinated, but because it has anthers that protrude considerably from its flower (hubba hubba), its pollen can be distributed by the wind, as this article explains.

🌱 FUN FACT: Some bees have special structures known as pollen baskets (or corbiculae) to help them efficiently store and carry pollen!

How is allergy season defined? The peak flowering/pollen times for plants varies by region, even if the same plant species grows across a wide geographical range. This is influenced largely by climate, and may vary slightly year-by-year. Ragweed, for example is abundant throughout all of central-eastern continental US, but pollen levels may peak at different times, depending on what state you're in (the state of allergic misery perhaps). For example, someone who usually prepares accordingly for ragweed season to hit them in mid-September where they live might be in for a bit of a surprise if they travel to another part of the country in mid-late August...!

What is hay fever, exactly? Is it the same as seasonal allergies? Essentially, yes. Hay fever is actually bit of a misnomer, as it was originally believed that the scent of freshly-cut grass (later dried to be used as hay*) was triggering allergic symptoms. Grass pollen of course can be a major trigger for allergies, nowadays the term is used almost interchangeably with the more-accurately described allergic rhinitis. *Consider also, if you really want to put your character in a Situation, the fact that dried hay often contains not only pollen, but mold spores and dust/dried plant particles...

Why does pollen make people sneeze? In simple terms: pollen allergies are an immunological response to the proteins found in different types of pollen. This article, titled 'Allergies: The Radical Theory of Sneezing' goes into much further detail. Also, um, hello?!!? That name???

🌱 FUN FACT: This paper is the first recorded medical description of 'hay fever.' In case you want to read it. For science, obviously.

A Selected List of the Sneeziest Plants

🌻 wildflowers + weeds

Asters, Daisies, Sunflowers (Members of the Asteraceae family) in general  Ragweed (members of the Ambrosia genus): specifically Common Ragweed (Ambrosia artemisiifolia) and Great Ragweed (Ambrosia trifida) Mugworts (members of the Artemisia genus) - particularly Common Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) Pigweed (members of the Amaranthus genus) Goosefoot (Chenopodium album)

💐 cultivated or cut flowers

Baby’s breath (Gypsophila paniculata) and its relatives in the same genus Chrysanthemums or 'Mums' (members of the Chrysanthemum genus) Asters, Daisies, Sunflowers (Members of the Asteraceae family), including: Dahlias (members of the Dahlia genus) Gerberas (members of the Gerbera genus) 

🌾 grasses

Timothy grasses (members of the Phleum genus) Sweet vernal grass (Anthoxanthum odoratum) Bermuda grass (Cynodon dactylon) Kentucky bluegrass (Poa pratensis) Ryegrass (members of the Lolium genus) Orchard grass (Dactylis glomerata) Bahia grass (Paspalum notatum)

🌳 shrubs/small trees

Common Sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata) Hazels (members of the Corylus genus) Juniper (members of the Juniperus genus) Cypress (members of the Cupressaceae family) Privet (members of the Ligustrum genus)

🌲 trees

Alder (members of the Alnus genus) Ash (members of the Fraxinus genus) Beech (members of the Fagus genus) Birch (members of the Betula genus) Cedar (members of the Cedrus genus) Elm (members of the Ulmus genus) Hickory (members of the Carya genus) Maple (members of the Acer genus) Mulberry (members of the Morus genus) Oak (members of the Quercus genus) Olive (members of the Olea genus) Sycamore (members of the Platanus genus) Poplar (members of the Populus genus)

🌱 FUN FACT: People who are allergic to the pollen of one plant species are more likely to also be allergic to species in the same plant family. For example, those who are Ash tree pollen may also be allergic to the pollen of Olives and Lilacs, as all three are members of the Oleaceae family.

🏅special mentions (plants that may or may not necessarily be allergenic but still deserve to be mentioned)

Highly fragrant plants (known to or most likely to trigger scent reactions) Lilies – particularly Asiatic hybrids such as Lilium orientalis (aka the Stargazer lily) Hyacinths (members of the Hyacinthus genus) Lilacs (members of the Syringa genus) Wisteria (members of the Wisteria genus) Lavender (members of the Lavandula genus) Jasmine (members of the Jasminum genus) Freesias (specifically the highly fragrant Antique White Freesia aka Freesia alba) Viburnums (Specifically the Burkwood Viburnum aka Viburnum × burkwoodii) Roses (members of the Rosa genus)* *There are certain types of hybrid Roses that have been bred specifically for traits like fragrance (eg. the variety known as “Mme Isaac Pereire”) but honestly...most of my knowledge pertains to wild rose species and I'm not researching this topic any further because people who grow cultivated/hybrid roses can be Extremely Serious about it and I’m genuinely a little scared of them. Small, fluffy seed heads (wind-distributed seeds that are very tiny and light and easy to breathe in...Do you see where i'm going with this? You see the vision?!) Dandelions (Taraxacum officinale): Willowherbs (members of the Epilobium genus) Cottongrasses (members of the Eriophorum genus) Asters (members of the Aster genus) Goldenrods (members of the Solidago genus) Pearly Everlasting (Anaphalis margaritacea) Hypoallergenic plants (these species tend to have thick/sticky pollen that does not become airborne, or needs to be intentionally disturbed by specialist polinators in order to disperse). A pollen allergy to any of the following plants would extremely unlikely, but an objectively hilarious affliction to give to a character. Orchids (members of the Orchidaceae family) Cactus (members of the Cactaceae family) Irises, Crocuses, and Freesias (members of the Iridaceae family) Columbines (members of the Aquilegia family)

🌱 FUN FACT: Many flowers have been cultivated (intentionally bred or hybridized to for specific traits) to produce less pollen. We call these varieties "cultivars." For allergy sufferers, hypoallergenic cultivars are great to grow in their garden (or to purchase at a florist). For pollinators who expend energy to search for a food source, it's not so great. It's even less great if these cultivars are native species which are subsequently planted or introduced into the wild, as it can compromise the genetic integrity of that species' wild populations, and negatively impact native pollinators.

💥 Sternutatory or Errhine plants Sternutatory (adjective): Also sternutative. causing or tending to cause sneezing Errhine (noun): a medicine to be snuffed up the nostrils to promote sneezing and increased discharges.

Important Disclaimer ⚠️ DO NOT TRY THESE AT HOME ( I cannot stress this enough). This is for information purposes only and should not be used as a how-to guide. Many plants, including some on this list and the resources at the end of this guide can be extremely toxic, dangerous – or even deadly – if used, consumed, or prepared incorrectly. Misidentification of plant species can also be deadly. Seriously, do not be silly in your pursuit of snz. Stick with chhinkni, folks.

Wait, so…plants can make you sneeze even without pollen? Heck yeah, friends! We've all heard about pepper as a snz trigger, of course...Well, Black Pepper is just the common name for the plant also known as Piper nigrum. Peppercorns are its dried fruit, and it's what we grind up to get black pepper seasoning! And chhinkni? It's all plant parts! We'll get into that later, too.

Indigenous peoples around the world have been using plants medicinally for millennia. Traditionally, sternutatory (yes, that is the fancy scientific word for ‘sneeze-inducing’) plants were used to treat or cure the common cold, headaches, or in some cases as a stimulant. Are you writing a fic with a character who is an herbalist, traditional medicine practitioner, healer, witch/wizard, etc? Perhaps they would be familiar with some of the following plants:

Sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale) - [crushed dried leaves and flower heads] Sneezewort (Achillea ptarmica)  - [dried powdered roots; possibly leaves?] Sneezewood (Ptaeroxylon obliquum) - [powder from wood, bark] Spreading Sneezeweed (Centipeda minima) - [squeezed flower heads] Kentucky coffeetree (Gymnocladus dioicus) - [dried crushed roots; dried crushed pods] Spanish chamomile (Anacyclus pyrethrum) - [powdered roots] Leopard’s Bane (Arnica montana) - [freshly crushed flowers; whole plant; dried/powdered] Scarlet Creeper (Ipomoea hederifolia) - [roots] Redberry (Deeringia amaranthoides) [powdered roots] Cypress vine (Quamoclit pennata) - [powdered roots] Ipecacuanha (Cephaelis ipecacuanh) - [dried roots and rhizomes] Southern Wax Myrtle (Myrica cerifera) - [powdered root bark] and its relatives Box Myrtle (Myrica Esculenta) and Swamp Bayberry (Myrica caroliniensis) Yopo (Anadenanthera peregrina) - [dried pulverized seeds] Mouse-ear hawkweed (Pilosella officinarum) - [leaves] Lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) - [powdered] Betony (Betonica officinalis) - [powdered herb/dried leaves] Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) - [dried powdered leaves often added to snuff powders] Bee Balm aka Wild Bergamont (Monarda fistulosa) - [dried tops of the plants] Pasque Flower (Pulsatilla vulgaris) [dried roots] Horse Chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) - [powder of the dried nuts] Sage, Marjoram, and Tobacco [referenced here as a “gentle” sternutative]

🌱 FUN FACT: Mugwort is considered one of the most important herbs ("the mother of herbs") in traditional medicine (and witchcraft, allegedly). It is both a sternutatory plant and a highly-allergenic plant. It sure would be a shame if your herbalist/healer/witchy character had to both grow/harvest it and prepare/pulverize it...

Okay, but how and why exactly do these plants make us sneeze? Excellent question, so let's get into it! Come on over to...

The Chhinkni Corner

Ever wondered why Chhinkni works? Why it's so effective? What the ingredients are? Exactly how/why these ingredients make us sneeze? Let's dive into some plant + snz science (Snience)!

First, let's break down the ingredients of Chhinkni:

Skimmia laureola [leaf, powdered] Box Myrtle (Myrica Esculenta) [bark, powdered] Indian sandalwood (Santalum album) [wood, powdered] Camphor tree (Cinnamomum camphor) [extract] Peppermint (Mentha piperita) [extract] Southern Blue Gum (Eucalyptus globulus) [oil]

Well, we know from the list of (some of the known) sternutatory plants above that the root bark of Myrica species is sternutatory, so that makes sense! But what about the others on this list? Let's get back to that important question:

What about these specific plants/plant parts make us sneeze? It all has to do with Transient receptor potential channels (TRP channels). TRP channels are primarily located on the plasma membrane of our cells. They detect environmental stimuli and translate this exposure into sensations of chemesthesis (irritation, burning, cooling, tingling) pressure, taste, and smell. There are six main categories of specialized TRP channels, which play different roles throughout our body. Here's a chart that helps visualize each category:

Woah, this is getting a little overwhelming. What the heck does this have to do with snz? Or plants?! Everything, my friend! Everything! Many TRP channels are heavily expressed in the epithelial cells of nasal mucosa. Each TRP channel is activated by different things (with some overlaps) including different chemicals found in specific plant families. Let's look at some of these TRP channels (and what activates them) and things will start to make a lot more sense:

TRPV is activated by: --- Capsaicin (found in Chili Pepper), Piperine (found in Black Pepper), Carvacrol (found in Bee Balm), Camphor (primarily found the Camphor tree, but also found in plants like Rosemary), Menthol, Cannabis, Incense, Ginger, Menthol (mint). TRPA is activated by: --- Mustards (mustard, radish, horseradish, wasabi), Cinnamaldehyde (cinnamon), Tobacco, Cannabis, Wintergreen oil (aka what gives mint candies/gum its flavor), Shogaols (found in Ginger and Sichuan peppers) TRPM is activated by: --- Eucalyptol (oils from Eucalyptus plants), Menthol (mints),  --- Cold temperatures

Hmm...does anything on this list sound familiar in a snz context??!?!?!?!

Wait, is this why things like pepper, cold temperatures, mint, spices, and strong smells make people sneeze? It sure is! When certain TRP channels are activated, they send signals to your body that trigger protective reflexes (eg. sneezing and coughing) to get rid of the irritant. Everyone's cellular make-up is as unique as they are, and we all react and respond to external stimuli in different ways. Some people might only get a runny nose when exposed to cold temperatures, while for others it might trigger sneezing.

🌱 FUN FACT: There have been studies examining TRP channels in the nasal cavity and the role they might play in allergic rhinitis. There have also been studies on specific TRP receptors in the nasal mucosa comparing patients with and without allergenic rhinitis. There is even this study on the nasal effects of camphor, eucalyptus, and menthol!

Learning Tools and More Resources

See where plants grow on a map: Want to know where specific plants grow? Input the plant species (or the genus or family -- now that you know what that is!) into the search bar, and it will show you its global distribution range based on user-submitted data. You can also narrow results down to a specific area. Note: This data is compiled through user-submitted data and may be erroneous. For best results, filter search results using the “Research Grade Observation” option. While the results don’t provide insight on historical range, native vs. introduced species, it’s a great tool to get you started! Pollen Allergen Tool: An interactive chart that shows common allergenic proteins and which plants produce pollens containing them. Repeated Disclaimer ⚠️ The following resources are shared for information purposes only. Many plants, including some on these lists are extremely toxic, dangerous – or even deadly – if used, consumed, or prepared incorrectly. Sternutatory Plants: A list of sternutatory plant species compiled by the USDA Sternutatory Plants: A second list, compiled using various data sources. This paper published in 2021 on the use of sternutatory plants in herbal medicine, TRP activity. and this banger of a quote: "Sneezing had great significance and value throughout history; it exerted a strange fascination on humans" I protest the use of past-tense, but alas. Folks, this paper is Snience (Snz Science) in action. If the following excerpt is any indication:

The End!!

THANK YOU for reading if you got this far, and congrats on making it to the end of this post! I hope you learned as much as you horned (if not more) and I hope this little guide can come in handy one way or another.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, if you ever have questions on any of these topics, please feel free to reply to this post (or send me an ask if you prefer to be anonymous) and I'll do my best to answer! 💚🌿

By some miracle, he manages to make it home without accidentally sneezing on a fellow commuter. Front door barely shut behind him, he shudders out of his coat and makes a beeline for the bathroom. Stepping in front of the sink, he reluctantly looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. Certainly not a sight to instil confidence. It's worse than he had feared.

The culprit is there on full display, of course, front and center of his tired, bleary-eyed, slightly puffy face. For the past - god, what might it be? Eight hours now, at least? - he has known all too well what it feels like, but it's only now that he's had the chance to actually survey the damage, as it were.

He winces at the sight, but his expression quickly morphes into something less sharp, less intentional. Feeling the dreaded sensation pull at his facial muscles once more, he stubbornly fights to keep his eyes open as his mouth relaxes open and his eyelids droop.

"Huhh..."

The last thing he sees before his eyes fall involuntary shut is the star of this terrible show he has found himself in. His nose. Huge on his face. High in the air from his head tilting back, his nostrils take center stage. Scarlet ovals flared wide open, pulsing impatiently -

"Hh...! Huh...! H'DJSHNXGHiew!"

He sneezes uncovered, straight down toward the sink. Something between a bark and a wet snarl, the sound distinctly angry. He can feel the spray land on his hands that are gripping the sink.

"HEH'DJSCH! HIH'DDJSH! HEH, HEHH, -H'TJJSCHew!"

Horrible, awful, disgusting.

(Bliss.)

Leaning over the sink, shaking his head groggily, twin strings of drool and snot, thin as spider silk, slide from his nose and mouth into the drain. He sniffles, or tries to, and his nose gives a whistling squelch instead. He opens his eyes again, looks up. His gaze flickers across the mirror for a moment, as though searching in there for something other than his own reflection. His eyes soon revert back, however. Drawn by the sheer spectacle.

Fuck, but he looks a mess. His normally immaculate hair is standing every which way, his eyes are puffy pink slits, his lips chapped, his nose painful-looking, so red and inflamed it looks like he's taken a punch to it. He knows that, technically, it can't actually have swollen to twice its normal size, but it certainly feels like it. His nose isn't exactly small to begin with, and with all the rough treatment it's been put through lately... well. It definitely isn't pretty.

Hand not entirely steady, he reaches up against better judgement and touches the tip of his nose. Bright red bulb, shiny with inflammation, too warm to the touch. Itch immediately stirrs inside it, spidering up and down his nasal passages, making his eyes water.

Right. No time to waste.

Blinking hard and scrunching his nose to buy himself some time, he hurriedly reaches into the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror and pulls out his antihistamine nasal spray.

Bracing himself, he gingerly inserts the nozzle tip into his left nostril, but his nose is already on such high alert that he doesn't have time to press down and release the spray to where it might, hypothetically, do some good. For the second time today, he sneezes full force without so much as a second's warning, a clipped double sneeze that echoes off the tiles in his bathroom. He opens his eyes and meets his own gaze in the mirror again. A look says more than a thousand curse words.

Next try he actually manages to push some spray up there, but again his nose rebels on him, violently evicting the medicine with a sharp "Eh'TDSHHjsh!" before he can contain it.

For fuck's sake.

Attempt number three. This time he pinches his nostrils closed before he can take another breath, squeezing tight as the repressed reaction shakes his diaphragm with strangled little "hdT-!, htTT-!, hdtT-!"-sounding sneezes. The action leaves him dizzy and his eardrums pop, but this time around the medicine stays put. He can't wait for it to start working. Even just the slightest bit of relief would be a massive improvement compared to his current situation. Sensing a small break in the ongoing fit, he lets go of his nose just long enough to push a second dose into his right nostril, then promptly squeezes it shut again. His nostrils twitch in his grip, the sharp menthol-y sting of the medication prickling horribly.

"heh'dt-! eh'dtj-! 'ttdjNXGH!"

Finally daring to loosen his grip of his nose, he looks at his reflection once more and cringes at the sight. Why couldn't he just have... moderate hayfever? Itchy eyes, runny nose, some sneezing here and there. Annoying, sure, inconvenient, absolutely, but not... not this. Not this embarrassing, crippling, dramatic spectacle of an allergy. A nose that demands him to drop everything to deal with its constant temper tantrums at having to breathe a little spring air. Speaking of breathing, his nostrils have begun to twitch again with little fluttering hitches. It's not that his nose has started to tickle again - it never stopped tickling in the first place - but rather that the ever-present irritation spreads and grows in intensity, its crawling, bristling needles of sensation blooming all throughout his nose, hijacking all other mental and physical functions. His breath stutters, his eyes overflow, his face twitches and contorts into all sorts of ridiculous expressions while his hands fan limply at the air in front of his face. For all he knows, the only thing this accomplishes is to waft even more pollen into his nose, but the action is reflexive, barely conscious. His chest heaves and expands, head rearing back, upper lip curling, baring teeth. His nose itches. God, it itches so bad. He wishes he could reach his fingers up there and just scratch, wildly rake his nails across the inside of his nasal passages with complete abandon. It's as if someone has packed his nostrils full to the brim with a mixture of dust, pepper and chili powder, or a million tiny feathers, or the world's most potent itching powder, or...

Or pollen. That hateful, inescapable stuff that seems to coat every surface outside in a powdery film. Just now, when walking up to the house, he had seen it floating on the surface of the rain puddles in his driveway, like watercolor splotches of pale yellow. So much of it. Everywhere. Sticking to everything. His coat, his hair, his eyelashes. Grass. Birch. Oak. Hazel. Riding on the breeze, infiltrating his every breath.

"hihuh... h'hih, hih, huhh...!"

Reddened eyelids drift to half-mast, his gaze goes unfocused, then cross-eyed. His nostrils spasm fitfully, seeming to flare wider with each consecutive breath until they're gaping open, perfectly circular, frozen in limbo. His head is thrown back, chest straining against his shirt, his lungs full to capacity, his face a cartoonish caricature of an allergy sufferer on the cusp of a truly devastating sneezing fit.

"huhh...! hhHHUH...!"

He can't think for itch. For a brief moment, his entire face seems to consist of itch, his nose its red-hot singularity. Stinging, burning, all-consuming. A crisis of itch.

"-AAHH...!!"

A beat. His body is so ready, so desperate to sneeze that it actually starts the process, producing a half-strangled "AH'DJh-...!" at the back of his throat, but then... it doesn't follow through!? His voice manages a pathetic, whispered "...tsheww"-sound, a toothless imitation of the release he was promised. His entire nose aches with disappointment. Fat, itchy tears spill down his face, adding their salt to the metallic taste in his mouth. Groaning, he grinds the lower part of his palm up against his nose, then again, and again, working the bulbous tip back and forth with aggressive fervor, attempting to ease the itch inside by rubbing his nostrils together. It barely makes a difference, and the screaming tickle high up in his sinuses threatens to drive him mad. He snatches a handful of tissues from the box on the sink and blows for all he is worth, immediately soaking the paper all the way through. Another handful, same result, but the blowing seems to be helping at least a fraction. Gasping and cursing, he buries his nose in a third wad of tissues, massaging the bridge of his nose through the paper all the while, giving a final, resounding blow... one that sets his nasal passages vibrating at just the wrong frequency. The resulting tickle goes off inside his head like a fire bomb:

"AHDTJSHCH-HIH!! -ADTJSCHIH!! -ATJCHIH!! - - - h'ddtjTTJSCHSCHHIIH!-djshIH!dschIH!tjshIH! dtjSHIH! ddtjiSSCHIEW! 'DTJSHIH! -dtsh!-djish!-ddtsch!-tsh!-ttsh!-djshdshtjsh'TTSCHH!!"

Bliss. Torture. Bliss. Torture. The faint flicker of relief each sneeze grants him feels so good, even as the unbearable itch reignites immediately after. Goosebumps break out on his arms and his whole body tingles with sensory overload as he keeps sneezing and sneezing and snh... huhh-

"HUH'D---tjshih!-ttjsh!-dtjsh!-ttgsh!tsh!ttsh!dsh!ddjsh!---"

He hates the rapid-fire sneezes the most. They make him feel so out of control, not to mention dizzy from the lack of air. Each frantic, breathless double-triple-quadrouple-quintuple bursting out of him only seems to aggrivate his nose further, triggering an endless chain reaction of allergic frenzy.

"---DDJSHih!-TDJJIH!-ATTJIH!-TJSHIH! AH'TSH!DJSH!DDJSH!DSHTJSH'TSH'GKSH!!"

He has to stop -

"---GTDJ'XSH! HZDJSH! ---DTSH!DTSH!TTJSH! Huh.... huh, huh, huhh...!"

He can't stop.

"AAH'GDJSHIEW! AH-AH-ACKDJSHHEW! ---JJSHU! NXJSHUH! TJSHIEW!"

It's never-ending. That dreadful, squirming, crawling sensation of panicked nerve-endings writhing inside the tight confines of his swollen sinuses. Like a nest of angered ants, swarming and biting.

"AH'KGDJSHHIW!"

But maybe it's...

"GH'DTSCHEWW!-TCHEW!"

...finally starting to...?

"HP'TDSCHUH-TSCHUH!-tCHEW!"

Tingling lips parted, pouring eyes blindly shut, pulsing nose pointing at the ceiling -

"HAH'TDDJSCHHIEWW!!"

Bent over the sink, nose buried deep in his... fifth? six? handful of tissues, one hand gripping the side of the sink for support. Panting. Lightheaded. Exhausted. He tries to sniffle but is so brutally congested at this point that he barely makes a sound, his nose only manages a kind of wet squeak as he wipes it. Like a fucking clown nose, he thinks mirthlessly. Big, red, and making ridiculous noises.

"Guh..."

Please, that must be it, right? He has been sneezing non-stop for at least five minutes straight. His nose is so stuffed-up at this point that it feels physically heavy on his face, pulsating dully and aching with pressure. His abdominal muscles are sore, his throat raw, his eyes stinging, but his nasal passages don't feel like they are actively on fire anymore? Ever so carefully, he wrinkles his nose, scrunching his nostrils first to the left, then to the right. Waiting, breath withheld. It still tickles, of course. That feather-light buzzing tingle won't go away for at least another two months (god help him), but at least for the moment it seems his sinuses are no longer in absolute panic mode.

The meds must finally be starting to take effect. Either that, or his body is simply too exhausted to keep firing on all cylinders like that. Whatever the reason, he'll take any respite he can get.

At least now, he's able to keep his eyes open for long enough to find his way to the shower. He can't wait to get under the hot water and finally rinse all of that p... p-pollen off...

Don't think about it.

Of course he's still covered in the stuff. It's on his shirt collar. His sleeves. His hair. His face.

"Hh..."

No. He flat-out refuses.

"Huh... hh... "

Shirt, trousers, socks, underwear. In a mad scramble, he's shed them all and dropped them on the bathroom floor. Then he's in the shower, nearly slipping on the floor tiles in his haste to get in there before his nose can take him hostage yet again. Faceing the shower head, he doesn't even care that the water is freezing at first. If anything, the cold spray feels good and soothing against his flushed, itchy face.

"Hhuh --- djsh!"

The sneeze is weak, half-hearted, spray meeting spray, barely audible over the sound of the shower.

He might as well not have sneezed at all, the way his nose doesn't even register this sisyphean attempt to scratch at the itchiness inside.

Wincing deeply, he jams an outstretched forefinger up against his sore septum and starts to rub his nose again. Lightly at first, but soon he is applying more pressure, crushing his nose upwards, shortening the sloped bridge into a mass of crinkles. Finger sawing away, back and forth beneath his nostrils, pushing their inflamed insides together and grinding them against each other. The itch is a throbbing heat all throughout his nose, but searing sharpness has been replaced with a duller, more muted sort of irritation now, one that doesn't threaten to make him sneeze every two seconds. Instead, he's stood there scrubbing away at his face, not wanting to stop despite how tender and sore his nose is becoming. It feels so good to rub, to finally be able to scratch the itch that's been plaguing him for hours and actually feel it have a soothing effect rather than make it worse. A sigh of relief, then an almost sensual whimper escapes him, as he switches the position of his hand and starts pulling his nose up and down with his fingers wrapped around either side of it.

"Nnh... fuck..."

The squelching sounds are disgusting, and he couldn't care less. Eyes blissfully shut, fingers working away, loosened congestion mixing with the shower water and running down his lips.

All day he has been so. fucking. itchy. From the second he woke up and started off his morning by sneezing violently six times in a row into his pillow. All throughout his workday which ended with a disastrous sneezing fit and an humiliating early exit. Nine hours of this. Non-stop. Of the histamine-drenched nerves in his nose, eyes, ears and palate screaming bloody murder.

And now it's letting up.

One final, sensous pull on his nose, from brow to tip. He lets go of his grip just as the last remnant of a tickle sparks back to life in the raw depths of his sinuses. A pinprick stab of sensation, one big, quick gasp, and he is thrown forward with possibly the most satisfying sneeze he has ever experienced in his twenty-odd years of suffering from hayfever.

”AHH --- ! 'AATTDJSHOOohh!-ohhhh god.”

And so, for one, long, blissful moment there in the shower, his nose feels completely clear, calm, and unaffected by the raging springtime outside.

special occasion letters:

r is for those really harsh or barking sneezes, where it rips out of their throat (and probably leaves it a bit raw 😳),

rRASSHhiew!!

hhRRESSCHHHUHHh!!

y gives a lilting tonality and vocalization to a sneeze, like in a really indignant "hiih'YISSHHiew!"

j is a a softening and lengthening that often accompanies a d, "hh'DJSSCHhh!" it's a little wet or congested but probably not totally blocked, caught on the roof of the mouth before the teeth

m and f are muffling sounds, like when theyre sneezing into something. n could be there too, m sits on the lips while n reverberates in the mouth "hmMFSSCHHh!" "ntSCHhuh-!"

k is the catching high in the throat, "hih! kCHHiiew!!" "aAH'KSSHHiuhh!"

p is the sloppy tripping over the lips, "hAH'PtsHHh'uhh!" perhaps they were caught off guard somehow, or out of it, or they're simply a messy sneezer.

z is the harsh buzzing of a sneeze through the teeth, "HH'zZSCHHh!!" half held back or snarled out

ok punctuation!

the apostrophe is a little stop, the tiniest pause between letters, delineating syllable stress but not much else. an apostrophe followed by a space is a longer pause. usually this naturally falls between the inhale or hold and the release, but sometimes is skipped to indicate a fast-flowing sneeze. or there may be another for a tripping, dramatic, multi-syllable sneeze: haH'ETCH'IEWW!

an exclamation can also be used at the point where the apostrophe often falls in a sneeze.

it makes the pause a little harsher and lends emphasis to the syllable before. likewise, it adds drama to a hitch.

ih, ihh, iH,

ih! ihh-! iH!!

see the difference? the commas add flow, indicating the hitches came in a steady sequence like speaking. different punctuation adds a different rhythm to them.

the hyphen before the exclamation adds just like. the teeniest little dazed waiting point into the sound. capitalization in the end or middle adds the rising volume and emphasis where you want it. double hyphens or em dashes add a great deal of that frozen moments between breaths or before the sneeze

hihh-- - --iTCCHHhhiuhh!!

a question mark adds the rising intonation that many languages use to indicate well. questioning. it adds a wavering uncertainty and upwards lilt

eh? ehhH? heH'ISHHHHh!!

bolding adds even MORE emphasis to the parts of the sneeze with a lot of oomph, or to indicate that it's one of those blow-the-house-down gigantic or dad sneezes. can also be used to great effect especially on the congestion syllables. hih'IDGTCHH'uhh--!

hhHHAH'YSSSHH'OOOo!!

ahhhh, stifles. perhaps one of the hardest sounds to conceptualize or capture!!

ngt, ngk, ndt are caught in the nose, that kind of strangled grunt in the sinuses

hhNgGt!'hiuhh

hh- nnkt, nhk, nngt, nGGKt'huhhh...

hHh-- mNGGtCHh!!

ipt, hpt, nkk, mpt are the quieter stifles at the mouth or back of the throat

hhMPt'chuhh

hih-- ipt! (hhhh)

x added to it adds that breathy, staticy congested sound-- hngxxt!!

q is a very strange one and maybe just imo but to me is like a k but more liquid, very specific kind of strangled stifle. nqqt-!

brief shoutout to the kind of half stifles where it's just like, hitch, stop, half the release like,

ih-! 'tchhiEW!

eH? --chh'uhh!!

also going back a bit, can i shout out to vowel combinations?

aESHH

IESHH

EISHH

AISHH

are all much loved nuance-adding differentiations. ae adds that "ah-eh" sound with a hint of ee, ie is "ee-eh," ei is "eyy-ih," and ai is "ah-ih," making an almost "I," (like the personal pronoun) sound