This one is more of a ficlet (that ended up being 500 words???) from an unspecified time because i just wrote 3000 words of vanilla fic and do not have the energy for exposition rn
Jon pressed himself into the wall behind him as much as he could. He tried to quiet his breathing but it was difficult with how heavy he was breathing both from running and from not being able to breathe through his nose. He was trying his hardest, though, both for his sake and for Martin’s, who was standing next to him and was just as likely to reap the consequences of this going badly.
Which is why when Jon felt a fluttering tickle in his nose, he nearly prayed to just combust on the spot. A quick and easy death of divine combustion would be much better than whatever is in store for them if they’re found.
“Martin,” Jon whispered frantically, hoping that if he could not die right this second, he should also try not to die in this minute.
“What?” Martin hissed back.
“I, uh,” Jon scrubbed at his nose, trying to stave off the tickle. “Snf! I’m going to--ah!” He gasped and clamped his mouth shut, scrubbing at his nose even harder now.
“Good God, Jon,” He heard Martin swear from next to him. He shifted so Jon was facing his front. The good thing about being larger than Jon (which was quite an easy feat) was that he could be squished into you and basically not be able to breathe.
Barely being able to keep quiet now, Jon attempted to hold the sneeze back, breath hitching with short little gasps. “Hah! Heh! Ah--hah!! Heh! Hih! hhH--!”
Suddenly, Martin shoved his finger under Jon’s nose. Both the action and the surprise that came with it managed to stave off the sneeze for a moment or two. Jon’s breathing slowed a bit, and he was eventually able to draw breath without hitching at all.
“Thanks,” He breathed.
After a bit, Martin looked at Jon inquisitively.
“If I take my finger away, will you sneeze?” he asked. Jon considered this.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. Martin slowly removed his finger after Jon’s confirmation. And he was right. Until he decided to rub his nose again.
“F-fuh! Fuck!” Jon murmured breathily. He could feel Martin glaring at him even if he wasn’t watching him.
“Can you stifle?” Martin asked.
“N-hh! Never tried. Ah!”
“Well let’s find out, I guess” Martin sighed. He placed his fingers on Jon’s nose, ready to help him stifle. “Let it out, Jon.”
“Hh-NGK! Ah--NGSh! KT-shiew!”
Suddenly, footsteps rapidly approached the small closet where Jon and Martin were hidden. Then, whoever it was, threw the door open. Martin completely abandoned Jon at this point, ready to fight, rather than hide.
“GSH-IEW! Ha-ISHEW! SHIEW!”
“Jesus, bless you, Boss.”
“Tim?”
There stood Tim Stoker, completely unaware of the perceived danger Martin and Jon had experienced.
“What’s going on, you guys? Wait…I bet I can guess.” Tim began to smirk as he looked from Martin to Jon and back again.
“N-no!” Martin stammered “We thought something dangerous was in the archives, that’s all.”
“Suuuuure,” Tim drawled, turning to leave them alone.
