yes this is a kink thing

Prowling cemeteries at night wasn't something the seminary prepared him for. But after serving the small community of Cat's Cradle, Reverend Nathaniel Lark knew better than to question the concerns of a worried mother knocking on his door at 11:00 pm. 

He swore it was the trees—Cat's Cradle was a mountain town surrounded by an ancient forest. Tales of ghosts and monsters flourished in the dark, and it wasn't his place to disprove or deny the concerns of his parish. Their belief was real, and that was enough for him. So he peered down every haunted well, climbed up every ominous staircase, and looked under every bed. He hadn't planned on becoming an official boogeyman hunter, but he preferred it over listening to his pompous, bigoted peers back home. He took up the collar to bring comfort to others, and if bringing comfort meant going out into the dark with a crucifix and a jar of garlic in the middle of the night, he was going to do it. 

"Igheh'Hhh—Hihff'Shhiew!!" 

He unfolded a new bundle of tissues, already exhausting a box. The miserable cold that spent its time passing from townsfolk to townsfolk in the winter had finally caught up to him just as spring finally came around. He practically sneezed his way through the last mass. It was a proper head cold, one he hoped would dry up in a week. Thankfully, most of his colds were short-lived. 

"Heeh-hh—ohdearmbe—hehh'IGHHFFF!!!" 

That one bent him in half. His back twinged in pain, and for a moment, he stayed bowed, lower half of his face buried in a handkerchief. The airy sneeze rang out in the graveyard, the only sound of life amongst the dead.

Wincing, he slowly, carefully straightened out again. The grand age of forty-five had done his spine no favors. Or his knees. Or his neck, for that matter. Funny, the things one took for granted. Working backs and knees. Graveyards had a way of making him meditative on his own mortality, as graveyards should. They were places for contemplation. To honor and grieve loved ones. They were places where memories were buried forever.

They were not supposed to be dug up again, least of all by the local priest. But the kindly baker told him she'd seen a vampire take its residence in what should have been her auntie's final resting place, and he wasn't going to argue with her. If a flock of sheep bleated at a wolf in the woods, the shepherd would be foolish not to go and chase it away. 

He still felt foolish placing the jar of garlic on top of the grave. He felt even more foolish when he nearly jumped out of his skin in fright when the caretaker yelled at him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" The old man stood at the stoop of the funeral house, weathered face lit by the glow of his outdated lantern. 

"Oh, hullo!" Rev. Nathaniel Lark smiled awkwardly, trying to make the act of digging up a grave look perfectly normal. "Just uh—snff—checking for…something." 

The caretaker scowled. 

Nathaniel cleared his throat. 

"You haven't uh—seen, any..oh..I don't know—uh—vampires around?" 

The caretaker grumbled a string of colorful expletives and returned to the funeral home, slamming the doors behind him. 

"Have a good evening!" Nathaniel lamely called after him. He always tried his best to end every interaction on a positive note. You never knew when a goodbye would be your last. 

Nathanial was unsure if a jar of processed garlic with "a hint of rosemary" would have the same effect as an actual garland, but he didn't have any time to sew one together, and frankly, he didn't feel well enough to focus on crafting one. He took a small bottle of holy water and gave the top of the grave a generous sprinkle. Though he seriously doubted a vampire had exhumed the body in order to take up residence in its place, He hoped the process was convincing enough ward for the baker to feel comforted by it. 

She was waiting for him in the parking lot, watching from the safety of an old truck. The baker still seemed worried as he approached, eyeing him suspiciously. 

"You think that's enough to keep it away, father?" She asked. 

He coughed lightly into the crook of an elbow, the cold had passed the point of scorching his throat, but the drip of it remained. 

"—I don't see why it wouldn't, Mrs. Keller. From what I'm told, even jars of garlic are enough to keep evil spirits from harassing the dearly departed remains." 

He wasn't told about any of this. But he wasn't lying. Lying was a sin. He was comforting someone, and there was nothing wrong with that. The look of relief on the baker's face was enough to make the harmless pantomime worth it. 

"Thank you so much, Father! You'll get a whole month's worth of fresh bread, I guarantee it." 

"It's the least I can do—Now, is there..any-anythihg—anythingelse-??" 

A sudden tickle fluttered between his eyes, and he quickly pressed a knuckle to the underside of his nose. Guiltily, he begged for the conversation to be over, so he could get back to bed and sneeze out the rest of this cold. 

Mrs. Keller took her time thinking of another investigation while Nathaniel tried to smile through the burn of an approaching sneeze. 

"Mmm…I don't suppose you could check the graves tomorrow, just to make sure?"

"Hhhh!!—"  He held his breath, eyebrows lifted dramatically as he clamped his nose between the tissues. "—HFFFHIEW!!" 

"Oh! Bless you!" Mrs. Keller grinned, suddenly amused, "How funny, me blessing you. Feels a bit strange." 

Nathaniel sighed into the tissues, still muzzy with a second sneeze brewing. He did his best to extricate himself from the ever-gregarious Mrs. Keller, finally leaving the dark graveyard parking lot for a long walk back home. It was a bit of an eerie walk, the kind where you were almost sure someone was following behind. Perhaps the superstitious nature of the town was starting to influence him. 

At least he didn't live far away. For that, he was grateful. He was even more grateful when his landlord remembered to let the plumber in to fix the sink. But it was odd that the plumber showed up so late at night and didn't actually fix the sink. It still leaked when he trudged into the kitchen. He rolled his eyes at the puddles of water on the kitchen floor, snuffling thickly as he tried to mop them up. 

Nathaniel knew he had many flaws, as all humans did. One of them was self-pity, something he tried to dip in only occasionally. But tonight, being sick as a dog and with a busted sink, he let himself wallow in it. Poor Reverend Nathaniel Larkin, crawling on his hands and knees mopping up puddles, nose as leaky as the broken sink. 

Another puddle mopped, another one to go. Nathaniel's mouth slowly swung open as yet another sneeze tickled him. He would have had it too, if he hadn't wiped away a splatter of blood. 

He bolted upright, eyes following the trail of blood to the couch. A man lounged there, leg crossed. He looked perfectly cordial despite the front of his shirt being covered in blood. He grinned crookedly up at Nathaniel. Teeth razor sharp, eyes glowing in the dark. 

"Heads up. You might need a new landlord." The man said. 

Nathaniel didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Only feel pure terror. 

"He was kind of a boring guy. Talked too much, no real flavor to him." The man's eyes flashed. 

"Worst of all, I'm still hungry." 

Before Nathaniel could even think, the creature pounced on him. 

His head slammed against the floorboards as he felt the fangs sink into his neck. Nathaniel yelled for help, flailed, and shoved at the monster on top of him. Strong hands (or were they claws?) held him fast, all he could do was scream.

But there was no pain. That was the odd thing. After the agony of the bite, there was nothing. He felt the blood and the cold skin of the creature's lips against his throat, but he didn't feel pain. His mind fogged over, and his vision went blurry, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was being fed on by a damn vampire, it was almost…good. 

Really good. 

In the cloud of sensation, Nathaniel felt a sudden inhale against the divot of his neck, where throat met chest. Then another sip of air, and a distinct sound of a sniffly nose. He thought for a moment he was sniffling, the cold chasing him to his death. But he felt the fangs unhook from his flesh, and he looked up to see that the vampire was rubbing at his nose against the heel of his hand. Panting, his glowing eyes hooded as it sucked in another gasp of air, nostrils fluttering open—

"What—heh—the-h-hell—HH—" The vampire's voice wavered as his lips curled up in a snarl. But he no longer looked ferocious. He looked confused, almost soft…

Sneezy.

"Ah—Ahh—HAHk'SHHH!!" 

It exploded out of him, spluttering messily between sharp teeth. Body cringing forward, eyes closing despite his best efforts…

It was just enough time. Nathaniel used the moment to shove the vampire off of him and reached into his back pocket for the crucifix. The world swam before his eyes as he lurched forward with it, pressing the holy object to the vampire's back. He heard the creature cry out in pain, saw the smoke, the fire, and then nothing.

Reverend Nathaniel Larkin swooned, and his world went black. 

———————-

It'd been a month since he got a crucifix to the back. 

He sat at the empty bar, nursing a full glass of beer. Just for looks, of course. Human drink could never satisfy as much. It might as well have been air. He wasn't there for the drinks, he was there for the music. Soft guitars strummed effortlessly from the modest stage, and a handful of true devotees sat and enjoyed the gentle ballads. Every Saturday he'd go to sit and listen, music was the last true thing that made him feel alive. 

The fucking scar itched. He thumbed at his back uselessly. What did it look like? Did it leave a mark?  There was no way he could know. 

"You gotta leave." 

The bartender gave him a final warning. Nice guy. Knew about the whole vampire thing. Knew enough to let him in and leave him be, at least. Nodding, he slid off the barstool and skulked into the dark. One of the things they didn't tell you when you became a child of darkness was that you should always honor a few spaces. You couldn't run your whole immortal life. He had quite a few spots across the globe by this point, places he could rely on for shelter, at least briefly. Some were permanent, some less so. 

For now, his less-permanent shelter was a trailer, the final home of his last meal. It was ratty, but it was dark, and it had a couch. And a tv. He could hardly complain about that. Flopping on the sofa, he kicked up his boots on the coffee table, and reached for the remote. He was almost at peace.

Almost.  

He hissed, and pinched at the bridge of his nose as a sneeze sparked to life. He'd felt one coming on all damn night, a tickle that flowed and ebbed seemingly at random. He never thought he'd be bothered with sneezing again. He hadn't done it for hundreds of years. Up until the encounter with that priest, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. At first, he thought it was a fluke, perhaps drinking the blood of a clergyman ignited an allergy he was unaware of. Whatever it was, he hadn't indulged in it since. 

Until tonight. He woke up with his nose buzzing, and he'd almost been excited to try for one again. Almost. But every time he seemed to work up to one, it went away, leaving him stuffy and frustrated. Twice during the concert he nearly got an AH in, but the fucking Choo would die away. At one point, his ridiculous gasping made someone's head turn, drawing unwanted attention. He flushed with embarrassment, just thinking about it. He didn't know he could still blush either. 

"Oh-come on.." He sniffed at the cold air, twiddling his wide nose against the palm of his hand. His breath snagged, and he felt a swell of anticipation in him as his chest rose, and rose, and rose—

"Ah—hh-hh—AHHH!!" 

He tilted his head back, as if the sneeze was a thing to be caught in the air with his teeth, a thing just right out of reach. 

Curiously, he could hear someone else hitching, too. Someone unseen in the dark. Someone close by, who didn't want to be seen, was struggling not to be heard. 

"—AHt'CHHHHSH!!!" He launched forward with it, exaggerated. The sneeze scraped through his sinuses in a wonderfully relieving way, like a rake of nails down his itchy nose. He licked his lips, indulging in the strange little reflex he thought he had left behind ages ago. 

"Hhh-INDG'T!!" 

Someone else sneezed. Or rather, tried not to sneeze. 

Someone else was in the dark with him. Unusual, not to see someone in the dark. Humans were easy to spot, animals too. The only thing that could hide from a vampire was another vampire. 

He bolted from the couch and flicked on the light. Standing in the corner, with a finger hovering uselessly under his nose, was the priest from a month ago. Tall as ever, but this time without the silly white collar they all wore. In its place was a red scar wrapping around his neck, a permanent ring burned into his skin. 

The priest grabbed him. Lifted him up by the jacket collar and shoved him into the wall. He'd been weak as a human. He wasn't weak anymore. 

"Turn me back! TURN ME BACK NOW!" The priest spat. His nose ran, and his pupils glowed bright. "YOU DAMNED ME!" 

"What the fuck are you blabbing about? I can't turn you back! What the hell do you think this is??" He struggled to pull the priest's hands (or were they claws?) off of him. 

"You gave me this dark gift. I never wanted it. You…you ruined my life." 

"I..I think you need to be a bit educated on this one." He grinned, trying to placate the newly turned spawn. "I was gonna drain you. Right? You'd be dead if I did. But you're not. You're a spawn now. Fresh as a daisy. And I'm your sire." 

The priest sniffled. A dribble of mess trickled down his lip. 

"You're… like my father now?" 

"NO! Fuck no. Disgusting." He wrinkled his nose at the idea. "No, I'm like…your friend. You have my power now, and my thoughts. And I have yours. If I die, you die." 

The priest's grip loosened, and he released him. 

"Look, let's try this over. Hello there! My name's Quintus." He held out his hand for a shake. "You can call me Quint. What's yours?" 

The ex-priest, now-vampire, glowered at him. He wiped his runny nose with a cluster of tissues. 

"Nathaniel." 

"Nice to meet you, Nate. Now, let's not tear each other's heads off tonight. Let's just talk. Can we talk?" 

Nathaniel nodded. He understandably wasn't happy about it, but he was willing to hear Quintus out. 

And he did hear him out. For an hour, they sat and talked. Quintus shared his own fractured knowledge of vampirism and how to live the life, and Nathaniel quietly moped and took it in. No doubt it would be years for him to really adjust, but Quintus wasn't about to let a spawn go on in the world, sad and clueless. He wasn't responsible for spawns, but he felt responsible for this one at least. There was something inherently sad and puppyish about the man that compelled him to charity. Besides, it didn't seem like he was willing to just leave Quintus alone. Whatever situation they found themselves in, they'd have to work it out together, since killing each other was not an option. For now. 

"Excuse—mbe..hih-Igh—" Nathaniel reached into his pocket for another nest of tissues, eyebrows rising. "Th-this stupid cold—been'd taking forever to—hhhh" 

Quintus felt the tickle crawl up and down Nathaniel's sinuses. It made his own nostrils pulse and his own breath wobble. Dread realization hit as his lips curled away from his fanged teeth in an itchy snarl. 

"Ah-AHH'GHSHHOOH!!" 

"HF'Fhieww!!" 

They both sneezed in tandem. Quintus first. Nathaniel second. They both sniffled and looked at each other, surprised. 

It was the first time in a long time Quintus felt real dread. 

"You were sick when I bit you?" 

"I was, yes. Horrible little cold-snff-snff-" Nathaniel dabbed at his runny nose. "I just don't understand. I thought I'd be over it by now. Sickness doesn't linger with me." 

"As a human no." Quintus's glared. "But whatever you are when you are turned, you remain."

"…Are you suggesting I will have this cold…forever?" 

"I don't..know. Maybe, maybe it'll last for a year, or a hundred years. Or it'll go away tomorrow..I don't know. What I do know is— I think we're sharing more than power. If you sneeze, I'll sneeze." 

Nathaniel sniffed, looking sulky. He pinched his nose between a clean fold of tissues and gave it a loud blow. Quintus wrinkled his own nose at the sound, he could feel his sinuses shift from Nathaniel's exertion. 

"Well. Snff—looks like someone will have the sniffles for a while then. Should have thought about that before you feasted on my neck."  Nathaniel lowered the tissues, his septum a red, raw streak. Twitching his nose back and forth, his chest began to huff up and down, and a small, sarcastic smile spread over his parting lips as his nostrils ticked open. "Speakig-of..get ready..I think'g—this is gunna be a big—one…" 

Quintus couldn't help it. Despite hundred's of years' worth of power, of sheer focus on survival, he couldn't stop the tickle crawling up and down his nose as Nathaniel's face crumbled. He pinched at his widening nostrils, trying to stop them from flaring. 

"Don't! Hh-Come'd on-Nate-don't—Don't s'deeze—I—ah-" 

"-S-Sorry—Hhhh—" 

In a last, pathetic effort, Quintos slapped a hand over his mouth. He could feel his sharp teeth parting open, desperate, helpless. 

Oh fuck. Helplessness. That was something he hadn't felt in a long time…

"AH—AH—" 

It terrified him. 

"AH-AHKTCHH!!" 

There was a time, long ago, when he knew how to stifle a sneeze. To properly bottle it up. Some murky part of his past where he was hiding, the last time he felt fear. He couldn't remember how to do it now. The sneeze sprayed wetly against his hand, his ears popping with the painful explosion. 

"Hieh'FFHshh!!" Nathaniel smiled wryly as he blew at his nose and folded the tissue neatly on his lap.  "Snff-Snfff. Gesundheit, Quint." 

Quintus groaned and slowly lowered his hand and wiped the drool on his pants. That stuck-up, whiny, no-good, asshole Nathaniel was doing this on purpose. To think he almost pitied the guy! He wanted to punish him!

 If they couldn't kill each other, they'd have to resort to annoying each other. For all eternity. And beyond. It was a fate worse than death. 

The life of a search and rescue hero wasn’t the worst; you could sort of just freelance, and you weren’t tied down to one agency or another. Your hours weren’t the same as the rest of the pro heroes; however, when you were needed, you knew it wouldn’t be a short job. The pay was pretty good too! However, being out late in the cold rain of Kyoto, sifting through rubble and climbing through hazardous parts and pieces of collapsed buildings wasn’t the ideal way to spend your nights.

So when Zip Komori was finally able to go home, all he could think about was taking a hot shower and climbing into his warm bed to cuddle with his husband. The way home was a long one but it was worth it. He shut the door behind him quietly, took off his shoes, slid into some comfy house slippers, and tried to tiptoe into his shared bedroom. It had to be 3 am by now; he didn’t need to wake up Shu! However, the further he walked, the more it sounded like the guy was already awake.

With his hearing, it was pretty easy to pick up on the soft but still intense and frustrating sneezing fits. Zip pushed open the door slowly and popped his head inside, and his eyes softened at the sight. Shu wore a slightly oversized, dark grey hoodie, tissues scattered on his side of the bed with the tissue box his side, usually where Zip would cuddle with him. His head was propped up with pillows while he sat curled, one hand holding the switch and the other rubbing the cuff of his hoodie sleeve against his angry red nose. Dark circles under his eyes weren’t hard to miss, especially on his flushed face.

Zip stepped in fully and dropped his back off in the corner beside the door as he finally made his presence known.

“Ey, baby.” Shu looked up and then looked at the time, then back at Zip. “Oh damb, its 3 am!” Zip chuckled and nodded as he started to strip off his sweatshirt. “What are you doing up with a bad cold like that, baby?” Shu sniffled a few times wetly.

“Got too stuffy ssdrrff sdrrff to sleep then sdrrgh ugh, bmy dnose wouldn’t stop’b ruddig and-dnuhh and dnow I-I cahh hehh!” His words trailed off as he hitched, the hand on the switch lost its grip and let the game console flop onto his lap as he lost control.

“Ehgh! Et’chiew! Het’shiiew! ET’sshiiiew! Heh'EsSSHH! heh-TSCH’iew!” Zip watched him sneeze into the cupped cuffs of his sweatshirt; they were pretty intense. Poor thing was hunched over!

Zip went over and grabbed a couple of tissues and waited for the other to sit up before he started to clean him up. Multiple thin strands of snot dripped down from his red flaring nostrils into his hands; the dark grey got even darker from the heavy spray. As he wiped Shu’s nose, he commented.

“Goodness, sounds like a bad cold in your nose.” Shu sniffled thickly, which in turn made him cough, and it sure didn’t sound good.

“Or in your throat, ouch. Here, blow.” Zip gently held the bundle of tissues to Shu’s nose while his other hand rubbed soft circles into his back. “Kough kough! Probably a bit of both.” Shu said before blowing; it sounded productive, meaning he was getting something out. Yet when Shu was still sniffly, wetly, Zip knew he was gonna need to get on this now. After he tossed the tissues and the rest that were on the bed into the trash can that he’d empty later, he went through their drawers and grabbed some fresh pjs and told Shu.

“Come on, shower time.” Shu looked confused for a second. “You need to get that stuff out of you, and I want a hot shower; you’re getting in with me.” Zip clarified; Shu sluggishly agreed without a word.

Old clothes dropped to the tile floor, and the heat of the shower enveloped them quickly. Zip sighed as the hot water from the overhead settings melted the aches of the day’s work out of him. Shu mostly leaned against the wall; he didn’t have much energy, but the heat did chase away the chills. It was also making his nose run more. Zip could hear those liquid sniffles clear as day. “Don’t keep snorting it back, just let it run.” He chastised. Shu almost sniffled again purely from reflex-and spite- but he stopped himself. For a bit Zip just wanted to enjoy the warmth, yet when he looked back he couldn’t help but laugh. Shu’s nose had run down his face! Zip raised a wet hand and gingerly wiped at Shu’s nose again.

“There you go, see isn’t that better?” Shu nodded a little and leaned into Zip’s shoulder, his shoulders shoulder as he rubbed his nose into the taller man. Zip reached and pushed the wet mop of blue hair out of Shu’s face and laughed some more.

“Oh my, you poor thing you really do feel awful. Have you eaten anything today?” Shu shook his head.

“Sobe crackers, but I didn’t wadda get up after that.” Zip sighed and turned off the water and wrapped his arms around Shu.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Zip helped his husband out of the shower, dry off, and into some clean clothes.

“You go back to bed, I’ll make ya something, okay?” As Zip headed out of the bathroom, something grabbed at the back of his own t-shirt.

“Hm?” He hummed. Shu then came up behind him and mumbled lowly.

“You dod’t have to. I cad wait till the sud’s up.” Zip frowned and turned around.

“You haven’t eaten much at all today; you need something.” He pointed out. Shu shrugged nonchalantly; he seemed almost guilty, his voice quiet and small. “You’ve been working all day between basketball and that rescue bmissiod, its the bmiddle of the dnight, i cad wait.” Zip placed a kiss on his forehead and hummed again with slight disapproval at how warm Shu’s skin felt.

“It won't take me much to heat up from instant ramen and get you some fever reducer. I don’t mind.” Shu sounded like he wanted to protest, but he said nothing, so Zip spun him around and pushed him towards their bed.

“Alright, alright, to bed you go, Mr Nightowl.” He made sure Shu actually climbed into bed and got under the covers and was settled before he disappeared into the kitchen. As he promised, it didn’t take long to make some instant ramen, grab a water bottle, and some medicine. Sure, by now it was almost 4 am, and yeah, Zip was tired, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep if Shu couldn’t. Throughout the process, he could hear the poor thing sniffling, blowing his nose, and sneezing from the other room.

When he walked back in with the items, like before Shu was all cooped up with his Nintendo Switch, playing Mario Kart. “Ey there, kitten.” Zip called out in a soft voice. Shu looked up; he looked pitiful. His eyes were glassy, and he looked so small in their bed. Zip went to his side of the bed and placed it all on his nightstand.

“Here, take your time, alright.” He then went to his own side, crawled under the covers, and cuddled up to Shu. The blue-haired mafia villain quietly set down his game and took the ramen and leaned against Zip’s frame as he ate. Zip decided to spend a lil time on his phone, even when Shu finished his ramen and shimmied himself to curl up on Zip’s chest.

“You take the meds?” Zip asked. Shu nodded and snuffled quietly; he rubbed his nose roughly with a balled fist. Zip looked down and chided. “Oi, be gentle with it.” Shu huffed in annoyance and scrunched up his nose.

“It wodt stop tigklig” Zip tskd and sat up a little, pushed Shu’s hand away and traced down the bridge of his nose. Shu’s nostrils immediately flared and he stammered out a warning that barely had a chance.

“Wehh heh waihh hiiiigh! Hit’tsshiiiiew! heh-TSCH’iew heh-TSCH’iew! ET’sshiiiew!” Shu ducked into Zip’s hand and doused it in spray. “You done?” Zip asked, he didn’t dare move his hand till he knew the answer, and with that hazy look he had a feeling the answer should be no.

“Yehh yesg hehh heh! Eh! Ugh” Like a sparkler fizzling out, the sneeze vanished but the tickle lingered just enough to make it an annoyance.

“Its stughk” Shu grumbled. Zip readjusted, tilting Shu’s head back and said. “Well lets get it unstuck.” Seeing the inside even in the dim lighting of the bedside lamps, it was clear Shu’s nose was pretty full with cold.

“Oh poor thing, its so full; let's get it out.” Zip traced his nail along Shu’s septum and got an immediate reaction, nostrils flaring widely this time, his breath desperate as Shu’s hand grabbed Zip’s wrist. “Riih right thehh there!” He whimpered; Zip cooed sweetly at his pleads.

“I’ve got you, baby. Come on, let it all out.” Instead of those short lil hiccupy hitches, they got longer, more drawn out, his shoulders hiked up, and his eyes made tears in the corners as his nostrils quivered. Finally, he lurched forwards with a very wet, messy fit.

“eh'TZZSSHIEW! eh'TZZSSHIEW! hih’IZZSHuhh! Ehhh!Igh! ih'DZZSHHH!” They scraped up his already sore throat in a painful sound. Mess poured from both nostrils into Zip’s hand, and he felt the warmth of it pooled into his palm. Yet with another hitch he could see Shu was far from done.