#snztember

He frowns slightly and presses a firm hand against his nose with another sniffle, also firm, and barely manages to not roll his eyes at the latest scattered chorus of blessings. To top things off, the irritation hasn’t been at all relieved.

Though he has managed to get Aera's attention, in any case.

She stares at Cerberus with undisguised curiosity, says some distracted farewells to the stallholder she’s been chatting with, and wanders across to join him.

"Well, well! Wonders will never cease," she says, smiling openly. "Didn't expect to see you here." Her expression shifts into mild suspicion as he sniffles with force. "You got the plague or something?"

"I’m fine, other than this damn…" The sensation, unyielding, demanding, rises anew; he pardons himself quickly and turns away. "Ah-TSSCH-uu! *SNF!*" Cerberus sighs in brief but acute exasperation. "This damn sneezing," he concludes with bitterclear annoyance, as if the irritation itself were a personal betrayal. Indeed, he’s not sure what’s worse: the sneezing itself, or the accompanying – and escalating, godsdamnit – excessive public attention that it continues to bring. "Pardon me."

And as much as Aera knows his tendency to deny oncoming illness, it’s true that he doesn’t look sick – none of the lethargy and haziness that comes with illness, instead rather more of the irritation that marks…

“So, just hayfever, then.”

“What? *snf!*” Cerberus gives a dismissive scoff even as he presses the heel of his hand under his nose, blinks against the prickling behind his eyes. “I don’t get hayfever.”

Aera smirks wryly. Naturally. "Well, for someone who doesn't get hayfever, you're doing a pretty great impression of someone who does." Past that, though, she's not inclined to argue the point. "Anyway, whatever," she says, and instead draws his attention to a small but richly verdant birchgrove off to their left, the branches, foliage and abundance of catkins dancing in the wind. “But just so you know, it’s probably that.”

His revisited What? is full of the quiet horror of recognition, and he murmurs a sotto voce that can't be right – as if by saying so, he can make it a truth.

But not even the Demon king’s formidable strength of will can do a thing to change the wind's brisk insistence, the stirred-up motes of pollen flurries flickering in the sunlight, the faint, maddening itch blooming deep in the bridge of his nose and curling down the back of his throat.

“For fuck’s sake, Cerbie, you know that birch is—”

“Yes of course I’m well aware of that, damn it, but that’s not the tree, not the…the pollen – that’s just the damn bark, the smoke, when you and your *snf!* superstitious Sorcery cohorts burn it in those ridiculous…" The vibrant buzzsaw itch rises again, relentless, and he capitulates posthaste to an unstoppable double. "Huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-AHSSCHuu! ”

A snort of laughter. “You know, that’s probably why you’re allergic," Aera posits. "It’s all the eeevil.” She wiggles her fingers at him in a deliberately over-the-top mimicry of stylised spellcasting. “You do remember it’s used for cleansing, right?”

“Are you calling me unclean? I ha…" A forceful hand pressed against his nose does nothing to stave off the inevitable, his sentence wholly abandoned to rapidgasped surrender. "Ah-HEHTSHhuu!”

“Okay, Captain Pureheart.”

He gives her a withering glare through watering eyes, sniffles damply, and mutters, “You really do get away with murder sometimes, Megaera.”

Aera folds her arms and fixes Cerberus with direct and deadpan gaze. “Me,” she states flatly. “I get away with murder.” She pauses a significant moment more, just in case her point isn’t already clear, and prods him sharply in the arm. “Me.”

“Figuratively speaking,” he says, his tone roughened but edged with dry amusement, "of course."

:And don’t you ‘Megaera’ me just because I’m right: she Mindsends.

He draws breath to retort, only to be overtaken by another powerful, possessing sneeze. “Ah-HEHTSHhuu!”

The entirely unexpected, softvelvet :Bless you, sweetheart: that slides into his mind startles him enough that he turns abruptly, eyes scanning the crowd with suddenly focused intent.

Aera tilts her head in query. “What?”

“I just…" He frowns in mild confusion. "Kia Sent me a blessing,” he murmurs, distracted, as he rapidly assesses the multitude of faces, finding no sign of her. “I don't see… She's not…” Another frown as he checks a final time. "She's not here. But how would she…"

Aera chuckles. “You’re a distinctive man, DeVille.”

He sniffles, straightens his coat, and tries to look perhaps a little less like a man being slowly undone by airborne plant matter. "Hm."

“Look, I guarantee she's on her way, alright? But anyway, listen, I gotta go." Aera places a hand on his arm – brief, casual, friendly. "I’ll see you later. Actually, in two days. You’re overseeing the Guild’s ceremonial nonsense for me. Oh, and here.” She Creates a neatly folded handkerchief, handing it to him as she turns away, before he has any chance whatsoever to counter her assertion. “Maybe try not to breathe so much.”

“I hardly thi…” He pauses, raises an eyebrow at the elegantly fine, looping embroidery of his initials in one fine cotton corner. “You monogrammed it?” The cruelty of those consonants add unmissable insult to his injury; Aera, however, this time lets it slide.

“Eh. I do what I can.” She blows him a kiss as she vanishes.

—

“Babe?”

For a moment, he can only stare, his senses overwhelmed in a new, equally unexpected way. Another determined sniffle, and Cerberus presses the handkerchief underneath his nose as he regards Kia, always so beautiful, but here today… here today like nothing he's remotely prepared for. Like sin dressed in silk, like seduction incarnate, heat itself. Her dress exquisitely contoured, flowing and fitted interweavings of scarlet, crimson, ruby, vermilion embodying flame and fire, cut to flatter the curve of her waist and the line of her legs, the neckline just daring enough to make his breath catch. Her hair’s swept up in a loose twist, a few strands tumbling artfully around her face, and the sunlight catches on the gloss of her lips like a promise, timestilled, glorious.

“Sneezed your brains out, hon?”

It takes him another moment before he manages to respond.

“I…” Cerberus sniffles again, the world narrowed to no more than his stunning bonded, the sound of her voice, the scent of her perfume. “I honestly can’t be sure.” He inhales and exhales slowly, carefully, steadying himself as best he can – a tenuousness he's well aware of. "Entirely possible. I’d not bet against it. Gods, love, you’re an absolute vision.” A small, appreciative smile tugs at his mouth. “You should warn a man.”

Kia laughs and Mindsends a warm, genuine :Aw, thank you, sweetheart: “Just keeping some tiny powers to myself," she adds playfully, standing on tiptoe and touching an appreciative kiss to his cheek. "Anyway, I just figured you’d, you know, see me at home later. I didn’t think you’d actually show up here.”

“Why would I not?”

She laughs again, gently incredulous – she'd thought he hadn't been serious when he'd said that he'd attend, that his words had been nothing more than a distracted courtesy. After all… “Uh, maybe because you never come to these things?”

“Really?” Cerberus frowns, muttering a quiet, mildly perplexed, “I feel like I’m always coming to these things,” notably more to himself than to her, just seconds before his attention is rapidly, needfully redirected. "Sorry, I'm g…" he almost manages, his words a blurred rush of necessity as his breath is directed to more pressing matters, hurried and desperate; he covers with hastily retrieved handkerchief, and with scimitar gasp succumbs again, absolute and all-consuming, twice over.

"Huh-TSSCHH-uu! Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!”

"Ble…" Kia begins, but abandons her words as Cerberus raises an index finger in a pause of captive anticipation. A quavering moment, and another, then with sharpgasped urgency he gives over entirely. “Hh-hhAAHTSSCHHUU!!"

“Bless you,” she murmurs over his apology, transfixed and just a little softwanton…but not without curiosity. "What's getting to you, babe?"

He clarifies the situation, not a small dose of impotent bitter fury alongside it. "…received enough blessings that it practically counts as consecration, and honestly it's an utter insult I can’t burn every last one of the damn things to ash!" He sighs heavily, affronted indignance fading somewhat into resignation. "Anyway," he concludes, wiping his nose again, “it seems I’m allergic to it." He runs the edge of the handkerchief under his nose, folds it neatly between his fingers, and adds, “In, um… in general.”

“Well, yeah, babe, course you are,” Kia remarks, nonchalant, as she smiles broadly and waves to Riviera and Calico in a friendly greeting before returning her full attention to her magnificently disarrayed, apparently oblivious bonded.

“Of course I am?” Cerberus echoes, genuinely beginning to feel as if he’s in some kind of alternate reality.

Kia briefly considers saying all sorts of things – things of the kind that would make him roll his eyes, or laugh despite himself, or something leaning heavily into how is this a surprise to you? especially after the icestrike? and how there sure are a whole lot of different kinds of intelligences out there and how he's kind of being an outstanding example of that sort of thing right now – but instead lets the moment hang, her gaze lingering on him with a slow, knowing warmth.

“You know, if you like,” she says at last, voice sultry with invitation, “we could always get out of here, and I get to be the thing you can’t resist, instead of…” She stands on tiptoe, leans in and kisses the tip of his nose.

“Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu!"

“…that,” she finishes with a wink and a flash of a teasing smile. Her finger to his lips steals any attempt at a light chastisement, and the kiss that follows steals everything else – breath, thought, the last thread of his composure.

“Mmm, bless you.” Her voice is honeypurred as she runs a fingernail down the contours of his face, brushes some strands of stray ebony behind his ear, and presses nearer to him still. The faintest shift of her hips against his leaves no doubt she knows exactly what she’s doing. “You’re trying your best to not just rip this off me right now, huh.”

A wry chuckle of concession from Cerberus, called back to himself; he concedes entirely. “You have no idea how difficult it is, love.”

Kia curls her arms around his neck, her fingers through his hair, and Mindsends a decadent, heat-suffused :Stop trying: – molten, inexorable, and the Demon king forgets the press of the crowd, the insistence of the pollen, the entire world beyond her. One hand trails down from the nape of his neck to rest over his heart, her thumb brushing once, slow, as if to mark the beat. Possessive. Certain. The look she gives him is all heat and intent, and she lifts her hand now to trail languidly down the line of his nose, a fingernail curling sensual, lascivious, along the elegant curve of his nostril. He doesn't resist, allows her to trace the shape of his surrender.

:Let’s see how long you last:

When all is said and done they'll both go their separate ways. The Undercity--and Vi--will just be a blip to Caitlyn. This little act of rebellion will lose its spark and she'll return to her perfect life above. And Vi will put an end to Silco's reign and get her sister back.

It'll all be for the best. That's the way it has to be.

Caitlyn makes a soft noise that drags Vi's attention back to the present and away from all the 'to comes', that are swimming around in her head.

Cait's eyebrows pinch together and she lets out a whimper, turning her head to rub her nose sleepily against Vi's shoulder. Vi holds her breath, feeling as though she's being nuzzled by a skittish cat, which isn't far off. Caitlyn with her standoffish nature.

Her breath catches, transforming into an airy gasp, and all Vi can think to do is tense her muscles, paralyzed by the inevitable.

"iih'DTSHHHhH! 'tch'SHHhHH! hiih'DxSHhHH 'tcHiih'SHHHhH!"

They barely disrupt the silence in the decaying abandoned building, there's more spray than there is vocal release, the cool dampness settling on Vi's neck and the junction of her collar bone.

"Bless," Vi speaks soft and hesitant, feeling her mouth run dry; did that really just happen?

Caitlyn sniffles, lifting her head up and slightly away from Vi's shoulder, running the back of her hand along the underside of her nose; groggy, lazy and uncoordinated. Then she stops, her eyes squinting open, she hunches forward, crushing her nose against the back of her hand.

"Hii'tDxSHH! iih'xDsSHHH-HiiH!"

They're still touching, bodies pressed loosely together now, but Vi can feel the way Cait shudders with the effort.

"Bless you," Vi offers up the blessing with more certainty than the previous one.

There's a few wet sniffles before Caitlyn speaks, "ehg'sc'huse mbe," still managing to sound breathless. She clears her throat, pulling away from Vi, "Where are we?" Voice still thick, blinking a few times as if trying to adjust and gather her bearings.

But, before Vi can even think to answer, Caitlyn perks up a little straighter, like a dog that's suddenly heard something. As if the events of the day are suddenly flooding back and settling in, "Why'd you let mbe fall asleep?!"

Vi chuckles and shrugs, pushing away whatever she thought she might be feeling towards the other woman, in favor of regaining her cool bravado, "you seemed like you needed it." She grunts and does her best to casually adjust her arm--pins and needles--hoping to regain the feeling without Cait realizing.

"You can take the princess out of Piltover, but you can't take Piltover out of the Princess," she smirks, but it's clearly falling on deaf ears.

Caitlyn has this far away glassy look in her eyes, her lips parted with her tongue just barely visible, each hitch a soft desperate congested whine.

"hiiiH...hHHh! iiD'tXHHh--HiiH! 'TxHhH--hiiH! eeh... iiIIH'DtXHhh...iihDxHH-Hiih!"

Her fist poised curtly in front of her nose, this time turning away from Vi; but she can still see the way they rattle her. Especially when she gives her head a little shake.

"Fuck, will you just let them out?" Vi huffs, an annoyed crease settling in between her eyebrows.

"I'be being polite," Caitlyn sniffs, wet and soupy, multiple times, severely trying to get a hold of her nose.

Vi chuckles dryly and stands up, "It's more insulting watching you sneeze like that." She grumbles, fingers finding the spot on her neck--now dried--where Cait had previously sneezed on her.

Caitlyn ignores her comment, standing up as well, "What happ'nd to Silco?" She glances around the place with soft scrutiny, "we cad't stay here..." She looks to Vi who isn't listening to her.

"Vi?" Caitlyn moves to follow her, the room isn't very big, but she seems to be taking some kind of grand tour, her fingers brushing over the splintered wood and over faded paint. Not just paint, but drawings.

"Vi--" It comes off as a soft mangled gasp.

Caitlyn tents her hands over her nose, every breath tickling at her itchy sinuses. Building on the last.

"HiiH! iiD'tSHHHhiiH! 'tch'SHHHhH'TsSHHhiiH!"

"Bless you," Vi blinks away from her momentary stupor, turning to watch Caitlyn recover; hands still tented over her nose as she straightens up.

"We probably should wait it out. Keep a low profile..." Vi's lips quirk up, "although I'm not sure that's possible with all that sneezing you're doing, Cupcake."

Caitlyn presses her knuckle against her nose, glaring at her, but her own cheeks bloom with a soft shade of pink. "I'm not doing it on purpose." She turns away, a lick of embarrassment woven into her expression and words, Vi can hear the way she scrubs at her nose; soft wet squelches loud in the stillness.

"I th-hiih-ngk th-" she hunches over into another sneeze and then another, pinching tightly at her nose. She gasps, "I thi'ggk there's something setti'gg me off." She sniffles, squishing her nose back and forth with her index finger, blinking away the tears that have crept into her eyes.

"Yea no shit," Vi looks around, she can practically see the dust and particles of frayed wood floating in the air, even in the dim light.

Vi nibbles at the inside of her cheek before sighing--she really liked this jacket. "Here," she offers up the bottom of her jacket. She's not even sure why, aren't fancy rich people supposed to keep fancy snot rags on their person at all times, except they do, and Cait used hers on Vi.

It was only fair she returned the favor, right?

Caitlyn looks perplexed by the offer, "Wha-"

"Blow your nose before I change my mind." Vi doesn't wait for a response, lifting it up, stopping just shy of her perfectly irritated nose.

Caitlyn swallows and leans into the fabric, accepting the gesture, but visibly growing a deep shade of red. Vi looks somewhere over her shoulder, adjusting the fabric for a dry spot when the first becomes soaked, almost instantly.

Caitlyn clears her throat, taking a step back, "thank you," it's whispered.

Rio was pretty sure she had never abandoned plans faster in her life.

She rattled off a couple of quick, mindless excuse texts into the work group chat she was supposed to be meeting with before turning on her heel and heading straight back down the block to her hotel. Dinner could wait; did she even really need food anyway? She could always order room service or Doordash or something later. Right now, the single most important thing in the world was that her wife was sick and being a fucking tease about it.

What had started out as little more than a headache and an errant sniffle that Agatha had blamed on the changing weather as Rio kissed her goodbye two days ago had rapidly turned into a nasty cold that had them both miserable, albeit in vastly different ways.

Agatha, who rarely handled being sick well on a good day, was keeping Rio updated on nearly every turn her symptoms took, and it sounded like she was having a rough go of it. While it was hardly the worst cold she’d ever had, she sounded tired and congested on their nightly calls, and even though her nose had been itching like mad the entire time, she had yet to be able to just sneeze.

Until now, apparently.

By the time Rio got back to her room, her hands were practically shaking, but she managed to steady herself with a deep breath long enough to get her earbuds in and tap the call button under Agatha’s picture.

The line rang once, twice, before the words ‘Call Rejected’ suddenly flashed across her screen. Rio let out a noise that was somewhere between a startled yelp and a frustrated sigh, and she was halfway to typing out a string of confused punctuation marks to Agatha when an incoming video call notification appeared.

Oh fuck.

Rio flopped onto her stomach across the bed, snatched a pillow to lean on, and answered the call.

The screen stayed black at first, but Rio could hear shaky breathing on the other end, a sudden inhale, and then a desperate sneeze.

“hhH’HIYISHhoo!”

“Oh wow, bless you, babe!”

“I’b ndot d-huh­-done, I nihh—hhih’IHTtschu! ‘HIITSHhoo!” Agatha sniffled hard. “Shit, fuck mbe.”

Rio called out a soft, “Bless you!” before her view was jostled as Agatha picked up her phone. There was a brief lag before the camera switched and Rio got her first look at Agatha’s face.

She was in bed, at least, leaning up against the headboard with a couple of pillows stacked up behind her and a pouty look on her pale face. There were shadows like bruises under her teary, red eyes, but it was her nose that looked like it had taken the brunt of her frustrations today. It was red and irritated from the bridge all the way down to the dip of her cupid’s bow, and fuck, Rio didn’t think she’d ever missed her wife more.

“Oh, my love,” Rio breathed. “How are you feeling?”

“Still shitty.” Agatha rolled her eyes and sniffled, which quickly turned out to be the wrong move as her nose immediately wrinkled in irritation. “F-fuck, I ndeed to….hh-hold od...”

Rio didn’t need to be told twice. She watched with baited breath as the sneeze crept slowly, teasingly forward. It seemed to stall out for a moment, but then Agatha attempted another trembling inhale, and the sneeze won out.

“Hh’TIISSHhoo!”

“Bless you,” Rio said. “That’s new though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Agatha grumbled right before her breath began to hitch again. “Hhe’ETshhiu! Ugh, my ndose has been tickling li—like crazy all f-fuhh—HUH’IIYESHhoo! “

“Bless you, love.”

“Fuck, hold od.” Agatha leaned out of frame for a moment and Rio could hear her pulling multiple tissues out of the nearby box before coming back into view to tend to her nose. She managed a couple of harsh blows before her brows furrowed, her forehead creased, and she muffled another sneeze into the tissues.

Rio wasn’t sure if she was supposed to acknowledge that one or not, but she mumbled out a soft, “Salud,” anyway.

“Thagks,” Agatha mumbled, blushing furiously, but clearly trying to downplay with a wry smile. “I do’nd evend know what happened. I was barely sndeezi’g at all and ndow all of a s-suddend it’s like I cahh-cand…” Her eyes started to close as she trailed off and sucked in a massive breath, but after a long moment, it became clear nothing was coming of it, and she emptied her lungs with a heavy sigh.

“Or that happends,” she growled, scrubbing angrily at her nose with the side of her wrist. “I’b so sick of it. It’s ndo fud without you here.” Her eyes were watering now, tears welling up along her lash line and she swiped angrily with her balled-up tissues at a stray one that dared to slip free. “How mbuch longer before you’re hombe?”

“One more night, my love,” Rio said, not entirely sure at this point if she was trying to reassure herself or Agatha more. “I’ve got my last meeting tomorrow morning, the conference wraps up at five, and then I’m on the first flight home. I’ll be back before you’re even ready for bed.”

“Good,” Agatha said, trying and failing to fight off a yawn. “The soonder you get back here the soonder I cand actually get some f-fucki’g sleep.”

Rio chose to valiantly ignore the way Agatha’s breath was clearly starting to catch again, instead just squeezing her thighs together as she asked, “Is that all I’m good for to you? A warm body in your bed?”

“Of course ndot,” Agatha replied. “You...f-fuck hh-hold od…”

She lifted her crumpled tissues back up, letting her hand hover just to the side of her face so that Rio still got a perfect view of her nostrils flaring, her lip curling, her breath stuttering, until she finally snapped forward with a forceful little fit.

“hh-hETSshu!—ET’TSHh! hH’YIITSSHhoo!”

“Bless you, baby!”

Agatha grabbed another handful of tissues and blew her nose again.

“Thanks,” she grumbled. “What I was tryi’g to say was that you mbake a pretty nice tissue too.”

Rio bit her lip, but there was no hiding the whimper that slipped out or the way her hips rolled almost reflexively into the mattress. The very thought of Agatha’s poor, abused nose on her, treating it so gently, lavishing her with love and praise and guiding her to release in more ways than one after days of watching her suffer alone—Rio buried her face in the pillow she was leaning on to hide the burning flush she could feel overtaking her face.

“Oh my god I love you so much,” she whined against the fabric. When she lifted her gaze back to the screen, she found Agatha grinning at her.

“Thought you mbight like that idea.” She settled back against her pillows with a smug look. “But if I have to wait until tomorrow, so do you.”

Rio whined into her pillow, and she heard Agatha chuckle, a low, throaty sound that quickly morphed into a tickly cough. It took a moment for her to get herself back together, and even then, another yawn overtook her before she could get a word out. She covered her mouth loosely with the back of her hand, leaving it in place to catch another itchy-sounding sneeze before she dropped it. Her head fell back against the headboard with an exhausted sigh, and Rio’s heart ached with how much she missed her.

“One more day, my love,” Rio said. “One more day and I swear tomorrow night I’ll make you feel a million times better however you want to.”

"hiihh...iiIHHhh-! ihHH-KKSSHhhh! huhHH-IISHHIihhHHh! For goodness sake..." Rhys grumbled as the sneezes fell out of him, swiping a hand under his nose with a wet sniff. A cold had settled itself in his nose since the previous night of getting caught in the autumnal weather shift which left him stuck up inside, bundled up on his sofa and with a, mostly used, box of tissues perched on the sofa arm. This could possibly be one of the worst things he'd ever lived through, and he'd been around for quite a few years, being an Ethereal and all. The itch in his nose had been relentless since the moment he'd woken up that morning and there was a scratch in his throat which no amount of cough drops, or tea could seem to quell the ache. And as if his suffering couldn't get any worse, Cain, his ever-loving boyfriend had been pestering him with messages all morning about wanting to meet for lunch, getting increasingly frustrated when he hadn't gotten a reply from the pink haired boy.

Rhys blew his nose for what felt like the hundredth time as he sank back down into the sofa, his eyes beginning to close, sleep finally able to come and give him a moments rest. Well, that was until there was an annoying tone and a vibration on his phone as it started to ring. With a groan they managed to drag themself over to the phone and sighed in frustration seeing 'Cain 🖤 ' flash on the screen brightly. He loved the guy of course but he knew if Cain figured out he was sick the guy would be over in an instant. He was absolutely fine and did NOT need help from anyone. As soon as he pressed to answer the call, there was a cheerful,

"So, you are alive! What's going on with you? You haven't been replying!" Cain chirped over the phone causing Rhys' head to pound even more, pressing his face into his hand and groaning.

"I'm fine... just not on my phone" Cupid grumbled into the phone and he could already sense the next question coming before it even left Cain's lips.

"Are you-?" Cain started before getting immediately cut off by his partner with a sharp-

"I'm fine Cain, just... been a late night," he said, a buzzing in his sinuses starting, this couldn't possibly be any worse of a timing. "You need to st-hheehh- st-stop worryiiIHHHh-! IH'KSSHHhhUUh! snff worryi'g. And don't say a word, it was a single sneeze"

"Rhys, you know you can say if you're sick right? There's nothing wrong with it after all!" Cain replied, his voice becoming gentle and soft-spoken, hoping to ease his poor boyfriend.

"Cain, I love the worry but I'm fine, just tired" He sighed, pressing a hand his nose, giving it a harsh rub.

There was a quiet sigh from the other side of the phone, "fine, if you need anything, let me know, okay?" Cain said as Rhys mumbled out a small yes, a goodbye and then hanging up the phone.

Finally, Rhys tossed his phone to the side and laid down again, pulling the blanket over him again and finally able to fall asleep.

------------------------

A loud knock on the door disturbed Rhys from his sleep, waking him with a start and a small snort. He sighed and staggered up, feeling a little rougher than before he'd fallen asleep. He managed to get to the door and opened it slightly, being greeted by the bright smile of Cain.

"Hey Loverboy! How you feelin'?" He asked, gently pushing the door open and making himself at home, placing a bag of things down on the coffee table.

"Cain- what are you doing here?" He asked, rubbing his head and walking back over to the sofa and slumping down.

"Here to check up on you, of course! You sounded pretty rough on the phone, and my suspicions were, in fact, correct! You ready to give in now?" He asked, beaming brightly over to his boyfriend.

Rhys huffed and rubbed his head with a wet sniffle, moving to gently massage at his sinuses. "I am fine... I just have a small sniffle" he replied, grabbing a tissue and wiping his nose against it.

Cain gave a small hum as he wandered over to Rhys, throwing himself down on the couch next to his boyfriend, whose nose was now definitely starting to match his pink hair. "Are you suuuuure you're okay?" He gently prodded Rhys' leg.

"Yes, I am fine. Cain, I love you, but please, my head hurts and I just want to sleep" He sighed and laid back against the couch, his nose burning with an itch as he snapped his hands to his face, "-iiSSHIUUHhh! hHH-iiKKSSHhh! fuck-" He swore and sniffled wetly, turning away from his boyfriend, a hand pressed firmly against his face as he grabbed a tissue, wiping off his hand and nose from the resulting aftermath of the sneeze.

"Well, bless you~! Angel, are you sure you're okay?" Cain asked, one more time, leaning over and turning Rhys to face him. Still with a tissue pressed against his face, Rhys nodded, and Cain sighed, moving back with his hands up in a surrender. "Whatever you say love, why not try get some sleep? You did say you had a late night"

Rhys didn't need to be told twice as he got comfortable under his blanket and shutting his eyes, dozing off with a small snore rattling through his nose.

-----------------------

It had been a few hours and when Rhys had woken up after his nap, he was feeling far more feverish then when he'd gone to sleep. When he sat up, sniffling and rubbing his nose as he looked around for his boyfriend who, he was certain, was there when he'd gone to sleep.

"HUhhH-hhEEeHh-! HaaAHHh-! -iiISHHUuHhh! hAH'iiKKSSHH! Oh god... hhHHh-NKKSHhh! For gooddess sake..." He grumbled, wiping a hand under his nose and grabbing a tissue to blow into it gently.

His head felt like it was waterlogged, his body was making him sweat as he started to shiver a little. Fever, wonderful, just what he needed. He wanted Cain...

It was almost as if on cue that the Reaper walked in through the door and looked over to his lover who was sat on the couch looking rather miserable. He chuckled a little bit and went over as Rhys' eyes seemed to light up.

"Well hey there, Cassanova, you look like you've lost a tenner and found a pound" He chuckled as he sat next to the pink haired guy who was shivering and sniffling miserably. Rhys leaned against him with a soft sigh.

"I don't feel good..." Rhys grumbled and nuzzled against Cain, just simply wanting some physical comfort.