#allergystuck

Dave is, as ever, oblivious to your misery. He’s kneeling in the grass a few feet away from you, probably putting himself at major bee sting risk as he sorts through the flowers. “Would you call this lavender or mauve?” he asks, tugging another one out and holding it up for you to see.

“I’d call it ‘go fuck yourthelf, Thrider’.” You’re aware that you’re kind of acting like a bratty little kid right now, but you’re too annoyed to stop. You wonder if it’s too late to find a new roommate. “HHHGNKSHH!!” You also wonder if it’s humanly possible for you to sneeze any louder. God damn. You rub your nose and can’t help being a little pissed off that Dave doesn’t bless you, even though it’s not something you’d ever expect from him.

After a few more moments Dave stands and you feel a fleeting flicker of hope before he opens his mouth and dashes your dreams of going home. “I wanna head deeper into the woods. There’s probably more in there.”

You gesture angrily at the jar by your feet. “You’ve already got enough to cover a fucking parade float. Theriouthly, can we jutht go home? If this is thome kinda torture for me drinking your AJ, I’m thorry. It clearly wathn’t worth it.”

Dave comes over to where you’re sitting grumpily on a rock and picks up his Jif jar of flowers. “Are you asking me to pick flowers alone?” he drawls. “That’s not very roommately of you. I’m surprised at you, Captor.”

“That’th exactly what I’m athking you to do, dunderfuck,” you snap back. “I told I didn’t want to come. ‘The pollen count ith too fucking high’, I thaid, but you didn’t lithen!” As if on cue, you duck your head to cover another loud, spraying sneeze. “HHHRKSHH! Ugh, fuck…” There is now a healthy film of snot all over your nostrils and upper lip and you pull a crumpled and revoltingly damp tissue from your pocket. You pinch it to your nose for a long blow which, as you’d anticipated turns the paper into useless pulp. You make sure to give Dave a withering look as you shove it back into your pocket. After all, this is entirely his fault.

Apparently the display has not garnered you any more sympathy. In fact, you’re pretty sure the bastard just rolled his eyes behind his shades. “Can’t you just deal with it?” he asks. “Just keep it inside, yo. Learn how to hide your feelings.”

“Wow, Thrider. It’s bad enough that you made me watch that trainwreck of a video, but now you mock me with it?”

“Whatever. Come on, dude. Just a few more minutes.”

“Fuck no.”

“Remember that time I helped you pick out a birthday present for your freaky fish girlfriend? Fuckin’, uh… seahorse earrings? And she loved them? Remember that, Sol?”

“Jethuth Chrith, fine!”

 ---

Exactly one guilt-trip later the two of you find yourselves in a flower carpeted clearing in the woods.  This time you abandon your ‘sitting and brooding’ act, actually lending a hand in the hopes it will see you out of there sooner. It seemed like a good idea for all of two minutes before the allergic tears in your eyes blinded you, probably irreversibly. As you gather up another handful of purple flowers you start to seriously regret ever giving in to Dave’s mind games. “H-heh…hhUHT’SHHH!!” The flowers flutter from your hands, not fast enough to save themselves from a splatter of mucus and saliva droplets. You give a few sharp gasps, bringing pollen-dusted hands up to shield the next tirade of sneezes. It starts as a series of sharp little explosions before delving into louder and wetter territory. “Hehh… Hhuhtchxh! HTK’TSCHH!! Heh… heh-! UHT’CHSCXH!!” It really says something that by the time your sinuses have stopped spasming and you’re able to open your eyes, you find Dave looking at you with the closest thing to concern you’ve ever seen on his face.

“Uh… you done?” he asks and you nod, straightening up with your arm pressed to your nose to stem the flow of watery mucus. “Great. I think I’ve got enough flowers to woo Egbert into next year, so we can go if you want.” You nod again and follow him back towards the edge of the woods. “Guess you were right about the pollen count,” he says scratching the back of his neck. It’s the closest thing you’re going to get to an apology. You roll your eyes, too itchy and snotty and miserable to argue any more.

“I don’t know,” you shoot back, too antsy over the missing book to really worry about anything else. “I was probably protecting it from you. Remember that time you threw all my books out the window?”

The memory brings a fanged smile to Vriska’s face. “I remember. That was a good day.” She stares vacantly ahead afterwards, the cross-eyed look coming over her face again. “Heh… hitchxiuh!” This one sounds wetter and she sniffs sharply afterwards, looking perplexed and increasingly frustrated.

You smirk and lean over to give her what was intended to be a light punch to the arm. “Don’t tell me you’re catching a cold.”

“Fuck off, Pyrope,” she grumbles, rubbing her arm. “I don’t catch colds. I’m not you.” She concludes the sentence with a sharp jab at your arm. This dissolves into a childish poking war, with you emerging victorious after she has to sneeze again, this time a small fit. It’s an interesting sight to behold – lots of sneezes and each one seemingly smaller than the last until they’re nothing but series of barely-audible squeaks. By the time she’s finished you can barely contain a laugh. It earns you a smouldering glare.

“Cute sneeze.”

“Shut your stupid pointy trap.”

“I mean it. Any idea what’s bothering your nose?” Vriska glowers at the floor and shakes her head. You just grin wider. “You seriously have no idea? Wow, that’s gotta be a pain in the ass.” You know how Vriska likes to be in control of everything, including herself. Every sniffle and sneeze must feel like her body is flipping her the bird.

“Yeah, well not a big a pain in the ass as you are,” she retorts, sounding more exasperated than angry. It’s really hard to take her seriously like this, especially now that a snail-trail of cobalt slime has begun the journey down the slope of her upper lip. “Now quit staring at me. Your dumb book isn’t gonna find itself.” You doubt she actually gives a shit about helping you find it. Her renewed interest in the search is probably just so the attention will be drawn away from her predicament.

“Are you sure?” you ask, the faint twinge of worry in your voice making Vriska cringe even more. “We can take a break. You can’t stop sneezing and I don’t want your blue brains getting splattered all over my attic.”

“I’m fine. Jesus, you’re not normally this concerned over my welfare.” With this she plops back down onto the floor, pulls another box towards her and starts rummaging. You shrug and find your own space in the room to do the same. It’s not like you didn’t try to help.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while – well, as comfortable as can be expected with a cranky Vriska. She’s silent except for the occasional sniffle and a few times you catch her rubbing her nose. You decide not to tease her – she’s already in a bad mood and you don’t want anything else chucked out the window. Instead you focus on your search, stopping every once in a while to wipe the thick, greasy dust off your hands and onto your pants.

Wait, dust?

“Hey, Vriska?”

Your companion is clearly in the middle of trying not to sneeze and rolls her eyes at the sound of your voice. “What?”

You pick up a book – not the one you were looking for, but it’ll work for this experiment – and stand up, going to sit beside her. “Look at me.” She’s barely turned her sour face towards you before you blow a sharp breath onto the book’s cover, sending up a cloud of dust so thick it even bothers your nose a bit. Vriska’s reaction is nigh instantaneous.

“Whhh… what are you… heh… hehh-!” She all but slaps herself in her haste to cover her mouth, barely getting her hands to her face before dissolving into sneezes. “Ehhtchiew! Iht’shiuh! Terezi, you bihhhTCHIEW!!! FUCK – EHT’CHIUH!! – YOU!”

By the time she’s sneezed herself out there’s a trickle of mucus practically all the way down her chin and you think she’s lost whatever trust she had in you, but it was worth it. “I knew it, you’re allergic.” Vriska doesn’t even have the energy for a snappy comeback, just wipes her nose and gives you the most murderous look she can manage. You stand, wiping off your dusty hands before offering her one. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you bust an airsac or something.” She accepts the hand as begrudgingly as possible and you help her to her feet.

“What about your book?” she asks from behind her sleeve.

“I’ll find it later. Besides, you weren’t really that helpful anyway.”

“Hhikt’shh!” You rub your nose, dropping your eyes to your lap in embarrassment. “Sorry…”

You don’t need to look at Nepeta to know her sunny smile hasn’t faltered, but it doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. “C’mon, Tav. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t mind?”

You give a liquid sniffle and tug the collar of your shirt up to wipe your nose on it. You don’t have too many qualms about it because after you’ve sneezed on a girl there aren’t many things you can do that are worse, but you still avoid her gaze. “I know,” you mumble, rubbing the fabric back and forth under your irritated nostrils. “Still… it’s pretty gross. Are you sure you don’t mind kissing someone so, uh…”

“Sniffly?” your matesprit supplies with a playful bob of her head.

“Um, I guess?”

Nepeta giggles and pushes a hand through your hair. “I’m sure. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have sneeze on me.”

Well, that does make you feel a bit better. Unfortunately, the relief does not make its way to your sinuses. “Wow, uh, th-thank… hh…” You stop short, your breath catching and your eyes beading with allergic tears. You can feel the tickle building but you decide then and there that you’ve embarrassed yourself enough today already . When it comes it’s pinched to the point of sounding more like a dry hiccup than a sneeze. Nepeta rolls her eyes. “You’re not meant to hold it in, silly. You’ll give yourself a headache.” You apologise again. “And stop apologising about efurrything. Seriously, it’s okay,” she leans in and pecks your lips and you’re suddenly, overwhelming aware of her sweet dandery smell. “Purrsides, I think your sneezes are kinda cute.”

You don’t reply. As it is, it’s taking every fibre of your will-power to not explode all over her. “Heh… snrf… ehh-!” You’re not even trying to hold it in anymore. The pressure is so intense that you think grey matter is going to start coming out of your ears, but the sneezes are staying put. You exhale shakily and rub the wateriness from your eyes, looking back at Nepeta. She seems to have gotten the message and has backed off while you were struggling with your almost sneezing fit. “Is it stuck?” she asks sympathetically and you nod, breath still hitching too much to speak. “I think I might be able to help. Can I-?” she moves closer and you just nod blindly because right now you’re willing to try anything.

Nepeta crawls into your lap and leans against you for a moment, and when nothing happens she arches her neck and starts rubbing the crown of her now hatless head against your cheek. Her horns bump awkwardly against yours but you barely notice, distracted as you are by the blazing itch in your sinuses. “N-Nepeta… I’m… heh!” you drop your face into your hands in desperate anticipation. Fortunately, this time you don’t have to wait long. “Hhpt’schuh! Hhhktshuh! Httshk!” At some point you give up on stifling and just let them come, loud and wet and unrestrained. “HGKT’SHH!! Oh fugk, I’m… HETSCHH! I’b sorry, I cad’t… uuht’SCHH! I cad’t stob it at all.” By the time the attack has stopped your hands are soaked, your eyes are overflowing with irritated tears and you’re fairly certain Nepeta will have quietly absconded, but when you regain your senses you see that she’s still there. “Feel better?” she asks, rubbing circles against your back.

“I guess,” you say weakly. It does feel good to have gotten rid of the sneezes, although you sort of wish the floor of your hive would swallow you.

Nepeta wordlessly wipes the tears from your face with the sleeve of her coat, then stands up. You’re waiting for her to leave you, but instead she shrugs said coat off, followed by her shoes and to your growing surprise, her pants. “I think we should take a shower. It normally helps, right?”