daily panicking

His only relief was in sleep, which he wasn't getting much of either, with the sinus pressure and congestion and general miserable itchiness. His eye and ears itched, even the roof of his mouth and back of his throat itched.

"I don't know how you put up with this every summer," he'd said to Olruggio this morning as they'd cleaned up from breakfast, swiping gently at the base of his tender nose with a napkin. He knew he was whining, but as long as it was just to Olruggio and not in front of the girls, he figured he could allow himself that tiny degree of self-indulgence. "The inside of my head feels like it's made of bees."

"Made of bees?" Olruggio had echoed him with the slightest degree of teasing, and Qifrey had huffed a sigh of irritation

"You know what I mean." He could feel his nose beginning to twitch in irritation, but by then his arms were immersed up to the elbows in suds and dishwater, so he turned his head away from Olruggio and tried to stifle the sneezes he could feel coming. His allergy sneezes were itchy and hard to satisfyingly stifle, always feeling like they were ready to tumble out and over each other like eager puppies.

"htt'TSIEU! ttxsHIEU! HKT'schu!"

"Bless."

Not quite yet, Qifrey wanted to say, but his breath was already shivering into the beginnings of another pair of sneezes.

"httkchuu! chhSHIEU!"

"…and again."

"Thangk you," Qifrey sniffled, then ground his nose against the fabric of his upper arm to try and tame the itch that was still prickling around the rims of his nostrils. It felt like someone was tracing them with a feather. The mental image was ticklish enough that it was all he could do to try and hold his breath to stifle a sixth and final sneeze. "HKKTshh!"

"To be fair, I don't usually get it quite as bad as you," Olruggio said.

"You do if you spend enough time outside," Qifrey reminded him, and Olruggio made a face.

"I guess."

Qifrey must have looked rough, exhausted and pink-nosed and puffy-eyed, because Olruggio stayed close as the morning went on, coming up with excuses to be in the kitchen or in the main room (wherever Qifrey was). Qifrey appreciated the quiet support, because he was certainly flagging as the day went on, and it was helpful to have another witch around for the girls to ask questions to. Still, it was hard to keep from nodding off over lunch, even when Tetia and Richeh began to gently quarrel over whose turn it was to help Qifrey prepare dinner that evening.

"Girls," Olruggio said sharply when their quiet bickering began to spill over into something more sustained. Qifrey tried to blink himself back to wakefulness, covering a yawn with one hand, as Olruggio continued, "Why don't we go outside and give Master Qifrey some peace and quiet for the afternoon?"

Oh he definitely was looking bad, if the girls' quick acquiescence was anything to judge by. Agott returned to her room to study, as always, but the other three trailed after Olruggio like little ducklings, calling bits of kindness like "get some rest!" and "feel better soon!" back to Qifrey. It was quite touching, actually, and he made a note to thank Olruggio for his thoughtfulness later after the girls had gone to bed.

He napped as well as could be expected; the quiet in the atelier helped, and the couch was incredibly comfortable (he understood why Olruggio napped here so frequently), but he was still plagued with itchiness and congestion. When he did sleep, he dreamed fitfully, weighed down by images of deep, dark water and skeletal trees reaching towards the horizon.

But he also dreamed of Olly — which was not new, unfortunately; the other man crept into his subconscious with some frequency, particularly when he was already exhausted or otherwise ill-at-ease, and his guard was down.

Sometimes the Olly of his dreams was upset with him, or accusatory, or hurt deeply by the careful distance that Qifrey kept between them. Qifrey knew that the real-life Olruggio felt those things too, even though he was too kind and reserved to express them, so those dreams always stung. At the end of the day, Qifrey deserved his ire.

But the ones that truly cut him to the quick were the ones in which they were happy together. The ones where Qifrey let Olruggio touch him, where they could hold each other, where Olruggio could brush away the tears that Qifrey wept in the solitude of his rooms at night. Those were the ones that hurt the most when he woke, that gave him a yearning ache so deep in his core that he felt like he couldn't move for limping.

He knew that he was dreaming this time, floating in a sort of half-awake twilight, when Olruggio came to sit on the couch by his feet.

"How are you feelin'?"

Dream-Qifrey scrubbed the side of his hand briefly under his nose, squinting, and sighed. "All right, I suppose," he said. "How are the girls?"

"Fine. Workin' hard." Olruggio reached up and brushed a bit of Qifrey's hair back from his face. "You've been fussin' with your eye again."

"Have not," Qifrey protested, but he knew it was a lie, and he knew that the swelling and redness would tell on him all the same.

Olruggio frowned. "Sorry the tonic hasn't done much."

"Not your fault," Qifrey sighed, and coughed into the back of his wrist. "I'm just ready for this to be done with."

"'M sure." Olruggio leaned in, and Qifrey thought he was going to touch his hair again, or remove his glasses, but he surprised him by cupping the back of his neck in his hand and pressing the most delicate of kisses to the tip of his nose.

It tickled, and Qifrey lurched back, rubbing fiercely at his nose to try and fight back the sneezes that he could feel beginning to build. The last thing he wanted to do was to sneeze on Olruggio. "What was that for?"

"You looked like you needed t'be kissed," Olruggio said quietly, and he leaned in again.

But Qifrey had to sneeze, badly, and he held up one hand to fend Olruggio off while bending his other arm and directing the sneezes towards his elbow.

— and then he woke, and he still had to sneeze, so he repeated the motions he'd felt himself make in his dream and just managed to get his arm raised in time.

"hkk'TSIEW! ktxshuu!"

They just barely scratched the itch, and he was still stuck there, panting faintly, until the urge backed off just enough to leave him sniffly and frustrated and without relief. He groaned and flopped back against the pillows.

"And again."

It was Olruggio's voice, and it made Qifrey jump, as if the other man could see the contents of the dream that Qifrey had just been shaken from. He quickly looked away with the excuse of looking for his handkerchief.

"Thank you. How are the girls?"

"Fine. Workin' hard," Olruggio said from the door, unknowingly echoing Qifrey's dream. It made Qifrey flush, and he quickly buried his face in his handkerchief to hide it. He heard Olruggio cross the room, moving away from him towards the kitchen. "D'you need anything?"

Another flicker of memory from his dream, of Olruggio leaning in to kiss him, and Qifrey gritted his teeth against the image. "No, I'm fine, thank you." He lowered his handkerchief and palmed at his cheek, which at some point had become damp. Was his eye watering again? "And thank you for looking after the girls, I've enjoyed the extra rest."

"Course."

Ah, damn, he'd been crying, hadn't he, while he slept? How mortifying. Qifrey sniffled again and cleared his throat, trying to wrestle back composure. "Give me a moment to freshen up and I'll join you."

"No need, I'll bring the girls back inside," Olruggio said. "You'd best stay inside too until you're done with all the sneezin' and such."

He sounded so firm that Qifrey couldn't help but duck his head to hide a smile. "All right, if you insist."

The corner of Qifrey's mouth hooked into a fond half-smile. "Noted." It was doubtful they'd be able to get in and out of there without too much of that, but it was nice to have goals. Qifrey, for his part, was mostly just tagging along, though he did have plans to keep an eye out for anything that could be of use around the atelier.

The day had started out fine. Olruggio had found the jeweler he'd been seeking out, and they had made plans to grab a drink after the woman had packed up her wares for the day. Qifrey had found some stoneware to augment their meager stash of dishes. They'd had a lovely supper overlooking a babbling creek, and even though the local witches had found them by the end of it and insisted on giving a tour of the village, they were a kind group of people who, for the most part, did not act like they were in the presence of celebrity.

But then evening had come, and the fireworks had started.

Literal fireworks — shot from witch-made contraptions, forming glittering starbusts and waterfalls of red and green and gold across the darkening sky. They started as soon as the sun began to set, and according to their local guides, they would go on all evening.

"You sure you don't want to come?" Olruggio asked Qifrey before he left to meet the quartz-crafting artisan. "I know we'll be talkin' shop, but you're more than welcome."

"I'm all right, thank you," Qifrey said. "There were a few more stalls I wanted to visit before the market closes for the night."

"Suit yerself. I'll see you back here in an hour or so."

And it had been fine too, for a bit. But then his eye had begun to itch.

It felt like a minor disturbance at first, like he'd blinked wrong and gotten a lash in it. But the irritation persisted, and worsened, and when he caught the first whiff of smoke from the fireworks, his stomach sank with the realization.

Oh no.

It didn't happen every time he was around fireworks…maybe it was the specific composition of the powder used to ignite them, or something about the chemistry of the explosive itself; Qifrey didn't know enough about fireworks and their inner workings to be able to speculate much more on the matter. But sometimes the stars aligned just right (or just wrong), and the dominos would begin to fall.

The first sneeze came not three minutes later.

"htt'shieu!"

It was only one sneeze, a tiny flinch of a thing into the side of his hand, but instead of accomplishing something or resolving the situation, it seemed to only serve to bring on a new wave of irritation, like it was cracking open a door. His throat felt prickly now, and his eye was beginning to water, but worst of all, he could feel discomfort settling deep, deep within his sinuses, so deep that only an extended sneezing fit could even begin to touch it.

It was truly an inescapable cascade once this began, especially since he couldn't yet remove himself from the source. He checked his pocket watch. Only about forty-five minutes until Olruggio would be done with his meeting; he could make it until then.

Unfortunately, that was still forty-five minutes that he'd be struggling through the grip of an early allergic reaction in a public space.

The second (and third, and fourth) sneeze came when he was perusing the wares of a bookbinder.

It was a sensation that had been building for several minutes, waxing and waning with an infuriating inconsistency. Edging him. He wasn't sure what made it slip-slide from the nebulous category of "urge" into the definitive motion of "action," but when the state transition happened, he knew it.

"KXshuu!"

He caught the sneeze against his wrist, in the length of his sleeve, and the shopkeep blessed him off-handedly. Qifrey didn't have the heart - or the breath - to tell him that that wasn't the end of them.

"ttxsHIEU! HKT'schu!"

Another blessing from the shopkeep, this time with a hint of humor in their voice, as Qifrey took a half step back from the stall and braced his free hand against a nearby tent pole to steady himself.

"Thankyou — " he managed to get out before snapping down into the final fourth. "HKKT'tsieu!"

"Wow, bless you!" He had the shopkeep's full and undivided attention now, and Qifrey felt his ears beginning to burn. He cleared his throat.

"Apologies, thank you," he managed a small smile, trying to ignore the buzzing tingle that was still flitting around the edges of his nostrils like tiny bolts of static. "How much for that small journal, the one in the blue?"

The next fit came not ten minutes later, when he was viewing a collection of cloak clasps at a different stall. He'd sneezed a few times in the interim, but they were ticklish one-offs that felt more reflexive than anything, and while they did little to quell the irritation that was becoming less of a background sensation and more of an active distraction, at least they were unobtrusive.

"hii'tshuu!"

But this one felt different, like a crack forming in a dam, and it did nothing to relieve the sense of pressure and potential in his sinuses. Knowing that there were more on the way, he immediately took a step back from the stall and began to move away from the trickle of people clustered around the art booths, his elbow coming up to catch the next pair of sneezes.

"hkktCHIEU! TSHHIEU!"

He had no handkerchief, of course he didn't, so it was all he could do to use his elbow and the cuffs of his sleeves to muffle the sneezes and clean himself up. It was miserable, and the smooth fabric was all but useless in the face of the irritation buzzing across the entire front of his face. He coughed twice into his fist, then sneezed, surprising himself and catching it against the black fabric on the inside of his forearm when he failed to get his elbow up in time.

"kttCHUU!"

And so it went for the next half hour — itching, sniffling, sneezing, and trying valiantly to keep as much of his dignity intact as possible. He had no misconceptions that he was succeeding, but when Olruggio did finally come to find him, Qifrey's heart still sank when Olruggio saw his face and did a double-take.

"What happened to you?"

Qifrey choked on a laugh and turned from Olruggio to cough into his fist. While the smoke was most irritating to his eye and nose, his lungs too were beginning to protest, and they felt itchy and tight. "It's the smoke from the fireworks," he rasped after a moment. "It…doesn't always agree with me."

"I'll say," Olruggio said, his expression balancing somewhere between awe and concern. "You look awful."

"Thank you," Qifrey said dryly. He had to sneeze again, and before he could think better of it, he reached out and put his hand to Olruggio's upper arm to brace himself as he leaned away for a tight, itchy double caught haphazardly in the sleeve of his shirt, which had long since passed its usefulness. "KSHHuu! ikkt'shieu!"

How he longed for some tissues, he so badly needed to blow his nose. He pulled up his sleeve and used it to dash the tears from his eye, which he knew by now had to be red and swollen.

"Bless." Olruggio frowned and began to fish through his pockets, then the satchel he had slung over a shoulder. Qifrey could see a variety of tools and items packed into the bag, hammers and pliers and scrap metal. "Hang on a moment."

When he pulled out a crumpled handkerchief and offered it to Qifrey, Qifrey thought his heart might stop on the spot.

"That's…very kind of you, thank you, Olly." He took it and folded it over his hand, impressed that he could do so with such composure when the gesture was so loaded, so intimate, so inadvertently sexual. The handkerchief was a simple cream-colored cotton, no frills or decorations. It was a surprise for Olruggio to have a handkerchief on hand at all; normally Qifrey was the one who brought them, and often for Olruggio, but it hadn't crossed his mind at all today.

But Olruggio was still watching him with that tense and curious gaze, like he was cataloguing Qifrey's red and watery eye, his sniffles, the congestion murking up the edges of his voice, and it made Qifrey feel hot and electric and ashamed, especially when Olruggio asked, "This stuff is really gettin' to you, huh?"

Qifrey exhaled something like a self-conscious laugh and looked away. This was not what he wanted to talk about right now, but he knew that was asking too much. Olruggio loved to fret over him. "A bit, yes. I'll be all right once we're home, though."

"We'll get you a cold cloth or somethin'." Olruggio cleared his own throat. "I can feel it a bit too, in my throat and eyes. Don't know what they're shootin' off out there."

"There's really no telling." Qifrey's hand tightened on the handkerchief. He could feel another set of sneezes brewing, pressure settling behind the bridge of his nose, a flickering and irritating kind of tickle set back in the right side of his sinuses that was moving slowly forward, teasing, taunting.

Everything was just so itchy. The handkerchief burned in his hand, an easy solution, but Olruggio was still watching him. If only he'd turn to peruse a stall, or look at the sky, or look at something that wasn't Qifrey.

They were at a sort of impasse for a beat, a tense moment that Qifrey knew only he was feeling as the smoke in his sinuses continued to tease and tickle and Olruggio watched him with a careful eye.

Then —

"Bless you," Olruggio said, a non sequitur, which startled Qifrey and shook his tenuous grasp on his own body and self-control. He turned from Olruggio and brought the handkerchief up to catch the first two sneezes that tumbled out nearly on top of each other.

"chhSHIEU - HKKTshhu! hkk'TSIEW…ktxshuu!"

"Times four." Olruggio shifted at his side, but Qifrey wasn't looking at him. His sinuses were a mess of crawling irritation, and it was all he could do to keep himself from brusquely rubbing at his nose through the handkerchief, like he could scrub out the tickle if he tried hard enough.

"You knew that was coming," Qifrey said after a moment, half-accusatory, and then winced at how thick his voice sounded.

"Your nose was twitchin' an awful lot."

Great. Amazing. Qifrey wanted the earth to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. Instead he forced a laugh and dabbed the handkerchief politely beneath his nose, which was running and making him sniffle every few seconds.

"Apologies, I'm a mess."

"'S fine, it's not like you haven't seen me like that before."

Oh, if only he wouldn't remind him. The last thing Qifrey wanted to think about right now was Olruggio in springtime, working through his morning routine with a handkerchief one-handed to his face, sneezing and sneezing and sneezing…

Olruggio seemed to be expecting a response, some continuation to their light-hearted banter, but Qifrey's mind was short-circuiting, his focus split cruelly between his own allergies and the thought of Olruggio experiencing these same sensations, the same prickly eyes and scratchy throat and sniffling nose, and…and…

"hkKTCHIEW! ITSCHHieu!"

"Bless you. Sorry, Qifrey — it was my idea to come to this damn festival."

Qifrey could feel his cheeks warming as he blew his nose again, which embarrassingly enough triggered another sneeze, half-stifled into the fabric of the handkerchief, of Olruggio's handkerchief, a handkerchief that had touched Olruggio's nose and caught Olruggio's sneezes…there was truly no way he'd ever recover from this. He shoved the images away into a box in his mind for…later. Much later, when he was back in the privacy of his own chambers and could touch himself while thinking of the proud and familiar bridge of Olruggio's nose.

"I'll be fine, Olly," he managed through the heady fog of arousal beginning to fill his mind like its own kind of smoke. The sooner they could get home, the better. "Let's just find the windowway, if you're done with your meetings."

"Yeah." Olruggio clapped his hand on Qifrey's shoulder, making him flinch in spite of himself. "'s about time we got out of here."

Qifrey finally gave in and began to massage his nose roughly through the fabric of the handkerchief. He knew it was uncouth, but at this point he was simply so itchy that he was long past caring. He could feel the irritation curling from his nose down into his throat, up behind his eye, and into his ears. It felt like a deep-rooted weed, like a rough plant spiking along his delicate mucosal membranes, making him —

"ISCHieu!"

— making him itch and sniffle and sneeze. When was the last time he'd reacted so strongly to something?

"Campfire smoke doesn't do this t'you," Olruggio remarked as they made their way back through the market. The windowway was a short walk through the woods beyond the city square. "Does it?"

"Not generally. It's fireworks, mostly, or sometimes incense."

Olruggio made a commiserating noise deep in his throat. "Incense always makes me sneeze up a storm too."

I know, Qifrey thought to himself; memories of the time a few years ago that the two of them had been around incense were burned into a deep and guarded part of his brain that he only let himself access when he was alone in the dark.

It became ineffective to lower the handkerchief by the time they reached the windowway; he was so sniffly and also stifling sneezes every few paces, like he was caught in a loop that could not be broken. Olruggio had stopped blessing him at this point, which Qifrey had mixed feelings about, but he did keep shooting concerned glances back over his shoulder and making comments like "Sorry I only have the one handkerchief" that went straight to Qifrey's dick. He was far past light-headed by the time they reached the windowway and stepped through to their home, and it was only Olruggio's steadying hand on his shoulder that kept him from tripping over the ledge.

"Easy there," Olruggio said gently, and turned to close the windowway behind them. "Go lie down or somethin' and I'll fetch you a cold cloth."

Qifrey shivered. The idea of having Olruggio tend to him in this state felt too raw and hot and intimate, like his skin had been flayed from his body, especially when his arousal was already pressing urgently into the fabric of his loincloth. He thought he might perish if the other man were to touch him.

"I think I'd like a bath instead," he tried, "but thank you, you are so thoughtful."

Olruggio shot him a sidelong glance. "If that's what you want," he rumbled. "I'll make some tea for when you're out."

He looked so stalwart, standing in the hallway with one hand on the doorframe and watching Qifrey like he wanted nothing more in the world than to sweep him under his metaphorical wing and care for him. Olruggio had no idea that Qifrey was dizzy not only from sneezing but with shameful lust, that the handkerchief that he had so cavalierly passed over and the words he'd said without thought would be the subjects of months of fantasies.

After a long day of teaching and grading papers, Izuku wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and die. He already made sub plans, even though he hated doing it. When he got home, he weakly announced his presence, slipped off his work shoes, exchanged them for house slippers, and dragged his feet through the flat. He snuffled and snorted his way to his bedroom to change his clothes; he hadn’t actually noticed that Katsuki was also home. Not till his voice jump-scared him from Izuku’s doorway. “Ey there, dumbass.” Izuku jolted a little; the short, little startled gasp caused him to cough painfully.

Katsuki cringed at the noise. “You sound like shit,” He commented. Izuku composed himself and snorted thickly, much too stuffed up for it to clear his nose at all.

“Ugh, sorry, did you wadt sobethig. Kaachad?” Katsuki stared at him for a moment with a ‘wtf’ look on his face. “Well, I want you to blow your fucking nose cause I can barely understand ya. How the fuck did you last a whole day sounding like that?” Izuku rolled his eyes as he unbuttoned his top, peeled it off, and slid out of his dress pants.

“I didn’t sound that bad,” He retorted. Katsuki didn’t buy it for a second and turned around. “I’ll make you some tea, blow your nose, take some medicine, and get your sick ass either in bed or on the couch,” Izuku mumbled just loud enough to be heard. “Bossy bastard” “What?” Katsuki called out. “Dnothing!” Izuku yelled back, only to be shut up by his obviously sore throat. He grabbed a zip-up hoodie and went into the bathroom to grab some medicine. As he rifled through the cabinets, a dull tickle formed in the back of his nose that quickly went to the front. With how congested he was, he hardly had any buildup, so he clenched his teeth to stifle.

“HhG!hhgksscHHHhh! HhNGgsshhuhw! HhNGgkksshhuhw!” Each sneeze made him bob his head and his shoulders tense, but none of them really rid him of the congestion. He gasped and snuffled again, plugging one side at a time in a stupid attempt for some air through his nose.

“Ah, there it is!” Finally, he found the bottle of cold medicine and went to the living room after he picked up a couple of blankets. Once he plopped down on the couch, Katsuki came over with a mug of tea and pressed a palm to Izuku’s forehead. “You’re a lil warm. I can’t believe you went to class with that cold.” Izuku shrugged as he sipped on his tea, the warmth and honey soothing his throat. “I didn’t feel too bad this bmordig.” Katsuki shook his head. “I don’t fucking believe you when you sound like that.” “I sound worse thad I feel, I probmise.” Izuku knew he truly wasn’t that convincing. Katsuki started to look around for something.

“What are you looking for?” Izuku asked. “Tissues, I told you to bring them with you.” Katsuki reminded him. Izuku snorted and took another swig of his drink. “I’mb too stuffed up it wont work adyways.” Katsuki sighed, got up from the couch, and stomped towards Izuku’s bedroom, then came back with the box of tissues. “Finish your drink, then I’m getting this shit out of you, today!” Izuku had no clue what he meant by that, and figured Katsuki was bluffing. Katsuki never bluffed, he knew that. One thing he knew for certain: the steam from the tea did get some of that congestion moving, but Izuku had the horrible habit of constantly snorting it back. Doing so made his sinuses fill back up with that awful sludge, it burned and gave him a headache, and the pressure was awful!

As soon as he set the nearly empty cup down, he figured he could escape whatever Katsuki’s plan was with the excuse of. “I need to grade papers.” But as soon as he tried to get off the couch, Katsuki yanked him back down. “Oh no you fucking don’t!” Izuku yelped as he plopped back onto the couch and was quickly pinned down by Katsuki. He put his hands on the blond’s shoulders to keep some distance.

“What are you doig?” Katsuki planted the tissue box beside them and smirked. “I said I was gonna get that cold out of you today, didn’t I?” Izuku blushed hard and tried to turn his head away as he whined. “I dodn’t wadda get you sigk, and its godda be gross.” Katsuki mocked his whiny voice and grabbed his face. “Its either be gross or you get a sinus infection, and I know you. You’re gonna be much worse with that sinus infection. And your germs don’t scare me.” He used his other hand to massage at Izuku’s sinuses. Izuku scrunched up his face on reflex as he felt all that stuff start to move down his nose. His nostrils-which were already red- flared and tried to sniff back the inevitable. Katsuki kept at it in a slow pace as he worked his hand down Izuku’s nose. Soft squishes and squelches signified he was definitely pushing on the mess. Then Izuku’s breath started to waver and he pushed one of Katsuki’s hands away. “Fuhh fugk tiihh tickles!” He warned, his eyes squinted as the tickle got stronger and stronger and stronger, then- right as he gasped- it left him high and dry. Well, there were some tears in the outer corners of his eyes. He sighed, defeated, and tried to sniffle again, but nothing could get through “Fuuughk!” He groaned with slumped shoulders and a dry cough at the end.

A snicker slipped out of Katsuki’s lips as he rolled the tissue he had in hand into a point. “Knew ya couldn’t do it yourself. C’mon nerd, don’t hold back on me now.” He inserted it carefully into one of Izuku’s nostrils that immediately flared to life upon contact. Katsuki’s hand was just beneath Izuku’s nose as he swished the tissue’s point around blindly. Then it brushed a spot that ignited the tickle all over again, this time much stronger. Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s wrist and instructed him in a desperate voice. “Rihh right right therhhh hhhuh! Huh! Heh!” Katsuki obeyed the command, but he couldn’t help but tease him just a little. “So bossy and needy you are~” His motion paused for only a few seconds, but that was just as torturous as losing the sneeze.

“Dod’t stuhh huhhstooohhb” Izuku begged as his chest heaved, the sound of his hitches went higher in pitch until finally!

“HH—hngKKSSCHH! HhNGgsshhuhw! HhG!hhgksscHHHhh!! ” Like earlier, they first came out congested as they tried to break through the wall plugging up his head. They were very spray heavy, though, Katsuki’s wrist was already dripping wet. Then-

“Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESshhTSsHHtt!! Heh! Hheh!! eh!EsschHHeeuhww!!” The real show started. Thin trails of snot shot down to Izuku’s upper lip; one side started to drip down longer than the other. Some ended up on Katsuki’s knuckles, but that didn’t stop him. He slowly circled the tissue against the swollen, angry walls, which drew out the quickest, breathiest hitches Izuku’s body could make before another fit came to spray Katsuki right in his face.

“Hehh huhh!Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Eh hehhh ehh! EsschHHeeuhww! EsschHHeeuhww! Hehh'ESshhTSsHHtt” This time clouds of spray were followed by thicker lines of snot that melted down Izuku’s flushed face and d covered the top of Katsuki’s hand. Izuku let out a sigh of relief, which made a few snot bubbles that quickly went out and oozed from both his nostrils. He muttered a “that felt better” in his post-sneeze fit haze.

Katsuki chuckled and pulled the tissue away, it was properly ruined, and so was his hand, not like he cared. He nonchalantly licked at the snot on his hand, and that quickly yanked Izuku back to reality. He sat up and tried to stop him.

“Ey wait dod’t do that! Oh gross Kaachad!” It was already too late as he watched Katsuki swallow the mess like it was something else. The way Katsuki looked at him with a devious smirk and lustful eyes made Izuku’s cheek burn hotter than any fever could. With the wall of congestion broken, it was like breaking a dam. So now Izuku’s nose was a runny mess. “Fugk it keeps ruhh ruddig oh dnuhh dno!” His nose twitched and dripped as the runniness caused another tickle to start. No matter how much he sniffled, it would just drip right back out and make things worse.

“Kahh kachahhhh huhh hehh! Heh!” Katsuki hummed, raised a brow, and asked all too innocently. “What is it?” Was he really gonna make him ask? Through those marshy, thick, liquidy sniffles too? “Come on nerd, just say it~” He teased, oh this bastard knew what he was doing! Izuku knew he didn’t have much of a voice though, it was going to drive him crazy!

“Hehh help bme plehh please” Katsuki all but jumped at the opportunity and traced the pad of his thumb along the wet rims of Izuku’s nose that flared in a frantic in and out. His breaths quickened right before the explosion.

“Hehh ehh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! ESShhTttsshh!” The mess that he tried so desperately to keep contained flooded out of his nostrils and made webs all over Katsuki’s hand and kept dripping between his fingers. The blond circled his thumb in a slow tease that drew out a very deep breath and-

“EEesschHHeeuhww!” A thick rivet of snot shot down to Katsuki’s lips, and without missing a beat, he swiped it up with his tongue. Izuku panted softly through parted lips, making the cords of snot sway and bubble. A soft groan rose through Katsuki’s throat as he swallowed what was in his mouth. “Fuck, your cold tastes so good.” Katsuki then started to lick at the snot on his hand as he continued to comment. “You made such a big mess. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you really did. Mmmm feels better, doesn’t it?” Izuku couldn’t deny it, it did feel better, especially after holding back all day and dabbing at his nose with cheap tissues that left his nose so red. He gave a small bashful nod, which only made Katsuki’s grin wider. He leaned down and started to lick at the drippage. Izuku, a little surprised, tried to ask, “What are you doig?”

When Katsuki made his way up to Izuku’s nose, Izuku melted into the couch. The wet warmth of Katsuki’s tongue on his sore red nose was so soothing. A little moan escaped, and Izuku’s hands came up to the back of Katsuki’s head and tangled his fingers in the other’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. Izuku’s nostrils quivered and flared open as if inviting Katsuki’s tongue in, and boy, was that an experience. The squirmy, wet appendage swirled and rubbed against the tender, angry insides so gently that it was heavenly. More moans came as Katsuki worked his tongue around; sometimes Izuku’s grip would tighten.

Then Katsuki’s tongue found a spot that brought on another tickle. Izuku gasped and started to build up again. Katsuki hummed a little, and the vibration made that tickle skyrocket immediately.

“EEesschHHeeuhww! EEesschHHeeuhww! Hehh eh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh!” Whichever nostril Katsuki’s tongue wasn’t in had snot leaking and shooting out much further than the other. He pulled away solely so he could suck and lick on the beads of mess from that side before going back to the other.

“Fuck that really tastes good, c’mon nerd don’t be shy, I know this feels good.” He encouraged. Izuku whimpered breathily as Katsuki’s tongue took another pass through his nose, this time deeper inside. His shoulders jerked as another wave of snot poured from his other nostril and over his lips.

“Hehh'ESShhTttsshh!!” Katsuki kissed him deeply and hungrily, muttering between kisses.

“I want it, I want your cold, give it to me, give it to me.” Izuku finally managed to say through very congested breath.

“I-i dneed to- I dneed to blow so bad.” He really did, just from the sound of his voice and how his nostrils flared without hitching. His poor nose was so full.

"Hh- 'hd'ISCHhh-!"

Kaeya eyed him critically as they sat together beneath the great tree, then smiled again, that same cocksure smile that put Aether off as much as it drew him to him. That sense of something hidden, something beneath, something more Aether wanted to uncover. It was a game both of them were playing, and he knew it- but that made it only more of a thrill.

Besides... maybe he just liked the Calvary Captain. Liked what was real between the lies. Even if the lies sent him on wild chases for imaginary treasure- it kept life interesting.

Aether wasn't sure how much he liked Kaeya right now, though.

"Oho, seems our glimmering little Traveler is feeling a little itchy~ that's what now, three? Four?" That smirk. It was aggravating.

He glared at him, then watched his own gaze turn hazy, whatever itch plaguing him teasing him now, just like Kaeya. He sniffled, rubbing, and for whatever reason that seemed to make it worse- but that at least meant he chhould- could clear iIHH--

"Ah- ahDTJSHhh... hdhh... hH?- adTJSHIH-!!"

"Goodness," the cursed captain crooned. "That was a rough one."

Aether's glare was rendered less biting by the itchy tears in his eyes. He rubbed at them, and Kaeya tsked, gently pushing his wrist back down.

"Now, now, that'll just make it worse. I would ask what's causing you such trouble, but I'm certain I already know." He glanced down at Aether's other hand, and the traveler followed his gaze, finding the small collection of windwheel asters he was holding. He'd been in the middle of a commission for them when he'd spotted Kaeya beneath the tree at Windrise, opting to sit and rest with him for a bit, not wanting to miss the opportunity... but the flowers being the cause of this? He scoffed, and Kaeya's brows raised. "Oh? You're not allergic to them, then?"

Sure, maybe he sometimes got a little itchy when he stopped to watch them- he loved these flowers. The way they idly turned with the wind... but that didn't mean he was allergic, did it? It was just a human thing that happened sometimes.

Which in itself was contradictory, given he wasn't human... but whatever the goddess that stole his sister had done to him, to his power, seemed to have rendered him human enough for a sneeze on occasion. That still didn't mean he was allergic, because just human enough or not, he didn't have those. He couldn't be allergic to the flora of this planet, it just wasn't feasible. He couldn't exactly explain that, though, so he just huffed, shaking his head. No.

"Are you sure? You do still look rather tickly."

Sometimes Aether hated him. He felt his nostrils flare, rubbing at his nose with distaste. Stars above... "...hh.. h- hhHH..?"

Oh.

"snf- hhah-- hhADHT- mmnhff..."

Oh, this had to be some sort of torture.

"Hmm," Kaeya hummed, sympathetic. He watched the blonde scrub at his nose like a child, almost trying to paw it off his face, and couldn't help but chuckle. Hitch. Hitch- gasp-! Nothing. It was making his own nose tickle. "Good grief, here- why not try one of those flowers you're so certainly not allergic to, Traveler?"

Aether side-eyed him, then hitched, gearing up... for nothing. He whined softly and decided he had nothing to lose, he just- he had. He had to sneeze. At this point he even wanted to sneeze! He couldn't think for the itch, just removing an aster from the bunch, slowly bringing it to his nose. One of the pretty orange petals brushed beneath it, and-

"hhAH-! haDTSH-!! ahDTJSHhh-'TTSH!! 'TDSHOO!!!" Oh, gods, as the locals might say- what a relief. Aether groaned, slumping back against the tree, sniffling thickly. Oh, he hated this part... Kaeya held out a handkerchief, and he accepted it, blowing his nose, rubbing at it through the cloth.

"So," the other said, too smug for Aether's liking. "Shall we revisit my-" He was cut off by the traveler's glare, and laughed in disbelief. "What? Traveler, surely you can't still think you aren't allergic to the asters?"

He stubbornly shook his head.

"I didn't know our dear little visitor was a fool! What more evidence do you need??"

Aether rolled his eyes, which annoyingly still itched. It probably wasn't the flower that had finally made him sneeze. The contact against the tickly appendage had been enough to tip him over the edge, that was all! This hadn't proved anything, and he didn't have to worry about any reaction to these beloved flowers.

Kaeya couldn't believe the lengths of his stupidity. He'd have to make note of this. "Look," he said, some sincerity finding its way into his words. "As amusing as it is to watch you be your own undoing, I must insist that you very much are allergic to the windwheel asters, and should set them aside for now before this gets worse for you."

A shake of the head.

"Traveler."

Glare.

"Goodness, what do I have to do! Shove one up your nose to prove my point?"

Actually... that was a thought. Aether looked down at the asters. If he could sniff these and not sneeze, then it would be his point proven instead! He could have something to finally hold over Kaeya's head, and get the man off his back about his silly idea. The captain in question seemed to realize where his thought process was going, opening his mouth to try and warn him off it, but Aether was lifting the little bouquet long before then. He stuck his nose right into the center of it, taking a long, deep sniff.

And it was fine-

"hhHHH-!!"

Oh, no.

"ahDTJSHhh-!! t'ZTCHIEW!! TSCHH-tsch-tch-hHH-!! h'ADTJSHOO!!!"

Aether had never felt anything like this before- this all-consuming, burning itch that just made him want to sneeze, and sneeze, and sneeze. He gasped, completely overtaken by this, head snapping down once, twice, three times more- right back into the flowers, which only made him do it again- again! He felt the sensation of Kaeya taking the flowers from his hands, but couldn't do much in the way of reacting, because-

"KTSZH!! Hh- H'kttssh-'ktsh-'tsczh-"

"Trav-"

"AkTCHOO!!"

"Oh, dear." He was being pulled to his feet now, led to.. he had no idea, he couldn't very well see. Away, probably. Where he'd wanted to sneeze before, now he just wanted to stop. But no matter how often he sneezed, it just tickled, and burned-- maybe if he-

Kaeya, leading him to the little creek, glanced down at him as he pinched his nose shut. "No, no, wait--"

"NGT-! Knnxt- ngxt- nxGNT--"

"Traveler!" Oh, his hand was being pulled away from his face. Good, because Aether found that hadn't helped at all, it just pushed the tickling farther up, where it made things rapid and useless and ohh fuck he needed to-

"ahDTJSHhh- 'dtjshh- tdshh-tsh-tch-tch-hhAH-!! Nksh-ksh-ktch-kTCHOO!! Hh... hh-? Hahhh..." Kaeya sat him down by the sound of running water, supporting him for the final, grating "AhDTJSHhhOOOO!!!!"

That finally seemed to scratch at the horrible itching sensation, and Aether groaned, just complying as Kaeya directed him to wash his face. He was panting, stunned by the intensity, slumping against him as he recovered his ability to breathe. Never before had he felt anything like that, and he hoped he never would again. Kaeya nudged him to blow his nose, so he did, finally deciding maybe it was a good idea to listen to him.

"Well!" Kaeya said, once it seemed he'd recovered enough to prove the sneezing wouldn't start up again. "Do you believe me now, dear Traveler? Not only are you allergic to them, you're very allergic. I haven't seen anything like that since Master Diluc's incident last Windblume." Aether whined softly, and Kaeya sighed, gently patting his head. He didn't mind the blonde leaning into him for support after all that.

"...fine," Aether whispered hoarsely. "You were right."

"Oh, I do love those words."