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Beck had been watching from a distance since Caleb’s first fit. The poor guy looked miserable and sorely in need of a tissue. He watched as his attempt to find something was intercepted by some irritated suntanner. He felt bad as the woman chewed him out about things that weren’t his problem, looking like he desperately needed a way out. It only got worse when he saw Caleb's face go slack, olive eyes growing hazy, getting that tell-tale far-away look in his eyes. He knew what came next. Beck couldn’t bring himself to watch this disaster unfold, frantically digging through his bag before he found his prize. A travel pack of tissues. He got up, moving before he even realized, taking long strides to close the distance between them. Beck put himself between the woman and Caleb. Pressing a couple of tissues into his hand.

~ Caleb was startled by the man’s sudden appearance, but the distraction from his nose was the final straw. He felt something soft pressed into his hand, as he turned away, bringing it up to his nose. “HH—hngKKSSCHH! HDDTSCHHh! Huh!nGTSSCHHHuh!..huh—gk- HHUH! Huhh…hHNGTxXTSH!” Snuffling into the folds, Caleb breathed a sigh of relief, before remembering the woman. He turned to apologize, but found the back of a slender man, a couple of inches taller than he, talking to the woman. “Hey, uhm, so I don’t know if my friend here can help you with your problem, but if you’d like, I can direct you to someone who can.” The man said, diffusing the situation with the kind of finesse Caleb wished he had. He had no idea who his knight in shining armor was, but he was so relieved he could cry. The man turned toward him, and he was surprised to find that it was the man he’d been admiring from a distance earlier. His previous confidence left him as he deflated a bit in front of his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut in, but you looked like you needed back-up.” The man said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Caleb admired him now that he was standing right in front of him, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks. Looking anywhere except for Caleb’s eyes. He was cute. “Dude, I don’t know what you said to that lady to get her to back off, but I could kiss you.” Caleb said, enjoying the way the flush on his cheeks darkened. “It was nothing really, I’m Beck by the way.” He said, reaching out his hand for Caleb to shake. “I’m Caleb, I’d shake your hand but uh…” Caleb help up the absolutely demolished tissue with a cring. “Right, actually, I have something for you.” Beck said as he pulled out the rest of the pack, holding it out to Caleb. “Damn, you really are my knight in shining armor.” Caleb grinned, taking the pack of tissues from Beck. Taking another tissue from the pack, pressing it underneath his leaky nostrils.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Beck said, gracing him with a shy little smile, “I’d talk to you more, but I don’t want to distract you from your job. Maybe I’ll see you around later?” “I hope so.” Caleb said the words tumbling out of his mouth. “We’ll see.” Beck said, and Caleb’s heart soared as he watched the other man return to his friend. Glancing down at the pack of tissues in his hand, he grinned wider when he saw a phone number sloppily scrawled across the packaging.

~ “That was smooth, lover boy. Please tell me you got his number!” Layla pleaded, and Beck grinned at her cheekily. “Nope, but he’s got mine.” He said, leaving his friend puzzled.

Love At First Sneeze

What was I on with these names back when I wrote these. 😅 Anyway this is another re-write with an old oc-fic. I had to split it up into a couple parts. Hope someone enjoys reading it! It was a blistering summer day in mid-August, and Beck was suffering. Normally, he contented himself with finding a snug corner in the library, appreciating the wonderful invention of air conditioning, but today he was on a mission. He peeked up over his book, glancing at the lifeguard stand a couple of yards away. There was the object of his affection, Caleb. The blonde man was perched on the chair, grinning and laughing as a pretty girl in a bikini chatted away. Beck could feel his insides practically searing with jealousy, pulling his gaze away to glare at the words on the page, re-reading the same passage he’d been on for the past half hour. There would be no way he’d get a chance to talk to Caleb with her flitting around, flirting. He was ready to give up when a shadow crept in, blocking his light source. Looking up, he found his friend Layla standing over him. “Wow, never thought I’d find you, out and about willingly subjecting yourself to the heat.” She said with a cheeky grin. “What do you want, Layla?” He asked. “Wow, rude! How about thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your glorious presence!” Layla shoved him over slightly so that she could plop down on the beach towel next to him. “Thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your wonderful presence.” Beck snorted, sliding a bookmark in his book since it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any reading done. “I have to wonder, on what occasion is Beck Watkin’s willingly subjecting his pale ass to sunlight?” Layla grinned with a knowing look. His body betrayed him as his gaze flickered to Caleb. Layla smiled, snuggling up real close to his side so they shared a view. “Now, that’s a pretty view.” She whistled, following his gaze. Beck’s face flushed with shame, and he pushed her away as she cackled. He groaned, curling up further under the protection of the umbrella. “What’s the point? There’s no way a guy as cute as him will ever look my way, especially not with girls like that flitting around him like flies.” Beck grumbled, letting his cheek rest against his knee. “Please, don’t tell me you're worried about that girl. She’s clearly not his type at all.” Layla exclaimed. Beck snuck a peek at the lifeguard stand, but he couldn’t see it. Caleb looked pretty engrossed in whatever the girl was saying. The man seemed to be his normal cheerful, shining self. Except…maybe he was reading too much into it, but he swore the other man's smile was just a little too wide. Now that he was looking at the other man, he noticed a few other things. Like that, his eyes seemed to be irritated, red-rimmed, and itchy, as he rubbed at them periodically. The underside of his perfect nose was also sporting a similar color, as if he’d been fussing with it as well. He’d never seen Caleb look anything other than perfect, wondering absentmindedly if something was bothering him. Thinking about it, he’s sure he’d never heard the man sneeze; he couldn’t help but wonder if it was just as perfect as the rest of him. Caleb must have felt his eye on him because he looked their way, his expression brightening as he gave them a little wave. Beck’s heart leaped into his throat as he waved back, tearing his gaze away. “Oh, you’re so hopeless.” Layla teased, screeching as Beck swatted at her with his paperback.

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Caleb snorted, watching from a distance. He’d noticed the tall guy in glasses when he’d gotten there, and it had been difficult to keep his eyes off him ever since. If he wasn’t imagining it, he was pretty sure the guy had snuck a couple of glances his way as well. He’d have gone over if the blonde in the bikini hadn’t shown up. Caleb nodded and smiled as she giggled, twirling her hair. He wasn’t sure how to tell her nicely that she wasn’t exactly his type. Worse, Caleb was pretty sure his allergy meds were starting to wear off. It was only a matter of time before he became an itchy, sneezy mess that would surely scare the man away before he could even get a proper sentence out. His shift ended in half an hour, so he just hoped he could beat his immune system to the punch and get a few blissful moments to talk to the man. Though he could tell his luck was running out. His nose was already starting to feel swollen and itchy, sniffling with a wince as he could feel the congestion shift. He subtly thumbed at it, knowing he was only prolonging the inevitable. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have to sneeze. Presenting him with a whole new problem, as swim shorts weren’t exactly the best place to carry tissues. Caleb tried to hold off the impending fit by subtly holding his breath, but that lasted only so long. Then he remembered a trick one of his friends mentioned involving tickling the roof of your mouth with your tongue, but that just made things worse. A sharp prickle deep in his nasal passages made it known that it wouldn’t be ignored any longer, and Caleb’s breath snagged jaggedly. His chest was hiccuping with hitched breaths as he tried to stop the inevitable. Through his haze, he could vaguely hear the girl ask him if he was okay, but he was too far gone. “Hh—hHD! Htt’tzzZSCHHIieww!!” He barely managed to turn away as he unleashed a massive spraying sneeze. The congestion shifting in his head made his sinuses prickle uncomfortably as his mouth hung open, sucking in heaving breaths. He could feel dampness hanging heavy around the rims of his nostrils, promising this next set to be messy, but his body wasn’t giving him a choice. “HIhHH-! Hih! HhdtzzZSSCHHiew!!…hH’atzzZSChhihhww!!” Caleb gripped the armrest of the lifeguard stand as the next pair almost sent him tumbling out of it. He could feel that his nose was starting to run in earnest now as he brought his hand up to cover it, his face heating up with shame. “Uhm, you wouldn’t happen to have a tissue on you?” Caleb turned back to the girl, who was looking increasingly less interested in him. “Sorry, no pockets,” She shrugged, “It’s getting late, I should probably go.” Caleb honestly didn’t blame her for leaving, he felt gross. He hopped off the lifeguard stand, hoping maybe if he dug around in the first aid kit, he might find something to blow his nose into when he found himself face to face with a middle-aged woman. Caleb leaped back out of shock, feeling his heart thudding in his chest. Clearly, this woman didn’t understand personal space. He discreetly tried to snuffle up some of the mess leaking from his nose, cringing at the noise it made. Then tentatively, he removed his hand, hoping he didn’t look like a complete disaster. “Uhm, hello ma’am, I didn’t see you there. Was there something you needed?” Caleb asked, his face hot as the disgust on her face told him he hadn’t done a very good job. Still, she saw no issue complaining about something that didn’t have anything to do with Caleb’s job. He did his best to listen, but his left ear was starting to feel clogged and itchy. It didn’t help that he still felt like he had to sneeze, eyes watering slightly, his nose prickling irritably. Still not satisfied. He’d already embarrassed himself enough for today. Caleb didn’t want to go for a second round, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off.

Love At First Sneeze

What was I on with these names back when I wrote these. 😅 Anyway this is another re-write with an old oc-fic. I had to split it up into a couple parts. Hope someone enjoys reading it! It was a blistering summer day in mid-August, and Beck was suffering. Normally, he contented himself with finding a snug corner in the library, appreciating the wonderful invention of air conditioning, but today he was on a mission. He peeked up over his book, glancing at the lifeguard stand a couple of yards away. There was the object of his affection, Caleb. The blonde man was perched on the chair, grinning and laughing as a pretty girl in a bikini chatted away. Beck could feel his insides practically searing with jealousy, pulling his gaze away to glare at the words on the page, re-reading the same passage he’d been on for the past half hour. There would be no way he’d get a chance to talk to Caleb with her flitting around, flirting. He was ready to give up when a shadow crept in, blocking his light source. Looking up, he found his friend Layla standing over him. “Wow, never thought I’d find you, out and about willingly subjecting yourself to the heat.” She said with a cheeky grin. “What do you want, Layla?” He asked. “Wow, rude! How about thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your glorious presence!” Layla shoved him over slightly so that she could plop down on the beach towel next to him. “Thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your wonderful presence.” Beck snorted, sliding a bookmark in his book since it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any reading done. “I have to wonder, on what occasion is Beck Watkin’s willingly subjecting his pale ass to sunlight?” Layla grinned with a knowing look. His body betrayed him as his gaze flickered to Caleb. Layla smiled, snuggling up real close to his side so they shared a view. “Now, that’s a pretty view.” She whistled, following his gaze. Beck’s face flushed with shame, and he pushed her away as she cackled. He groaned, curling up further under the protection of the umbrella. “What’s the point? There’s no way a guy as cute as him will ever look my way, especially not with girls like that flitting around him like flies.” Beck grumbled, letting his cheek rest against his knee. “Please, don’t tell me you're worried about that girl. She’s clearly not his type at all.” Layla exclaimed. Beck snuck a peek at the lifeguard stand, but he couldn’t see it. Caleb looked pretty engrossed in whatever the girl was saying. The man seemed to be his normal cheerful, shining self. Except…maybe he was reading too much into it, but he swore the other man's smile was just a little too wide. Now that he was looking at the other man, he noticed a few other things. Like that, his eyes seemed to be irritated, red-rimmed, and itchy, as he rubbed at them periodically. The underside of his perfect nose was also sporting a similar color, as if he’d been fussing with it as well. He’d never seen Caleb look anything other than perfect, wondering absentmindedly if something was bothering him. Thinking about it, he’s sure he’d never heard the man sneeze; he couldn’t help but wonder if it was just as perfect as the rest of him. Caleb must have felt his eye on him because he looked their way, his expression brightening as he gave them a little wave. Beck’s heart leaped into his throat as he waved back, tearing his gaze away. “Oh, you’re so hopeless.” Layla teased, screeching as Beck swatted at her with his paperback.

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Love At First Sneeze

What was I on with these names back when I wrote these. 😅 Anyway this is another re-write with an old oc-fic. I had to split it up into a couple parts. Hope someone enjoys reading it! It was a blistering summer day in mid-August, and Beck was suffering. Normally, he contented himself with finding a snug corner in the library, appreciating the wonderful invention of air conditioning, but today he was on a mission. He peeked up over his book, glancing at the lifeguard stand a couple of yards away. There was the object of his affection, Caleb. The blonde man was perched on the chair, grinning and laughing as a pretty girl in a bikini chatted away. Beck could feel his insides practically searing with jealousy, pulling his gaze away to glare at the words on the page, re-reading the same passage he’d been on for the past half hour. There would be no way he’d get a chance to talk to Caleb with her flitting around, flirting. He was ready to give up when a shadow crept in, blocking his light source. Looking up, he found his friend Layla standing over him. “Wow, never thought I’d find you, out and about willingly subjecting yourself to the heat.” She said with a cheeky grin. “What do you want, Layla?” He asked. “Wow, rude! How about thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your glorious presence!” Layla shoved him over slightly so that she could plop down on the beach towel next to him. “Thank you, Layla, for gracing me with your wonderful presence.” Beck snorted, sliding a bookmark in his book since it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any reading done. “I have to wonder, on what occasion is Beck Watkin’s willingly subjecting his pale ass to sunlight?” Layla grinned with a knowing look. His body betrayed him as his gaze flickered to Caleb. Layla smiled, snuggling up real close to his side so they shared a view. “Now, that’s a pretty view.” She whistled, following his gaze. Beck’s face flushed with shame, and he pushed her away as she cackled. He groaned, curling up further under the protection of the umbrella. “What’s the point? There’s no way a guy as cute as him will ever look my way, especially not with girls like that flitting around him like flies.” Beck grumbled, letting his cheek rest against his knee. “Please, don’t tell me you're worried about that girl. She’s clearly not his type at all.” Layla exclaimed. Beck snuck a peek at the lifeguard stand, but he couldn’t see it. Caleb looked pretty engrossed in whatever the girl was saying. The man seemed to be his normal cheerful, shining self. Except…maybe he was reading too much into it, but he swore the other man's smile was just a little too wide. Now that he was looking at the other man, he noticed a few other things. Like that, his eyes seemed to be irritated, red-rimmed, and itchy, as he rubbed at them periodically. The underside of his perfect nose was also sporting a similar color, as if he’d been fussing with it as well. He’d never seen Caleb look anything other than perfect, wondering absentmindedly if something was bothering him. Thinking about it, he’s sure he’d never heard the man sneeze; he couldn’t help but wonder if it was just as perfect as the rest of him. Caleb must have felt his eye on him because he looked their way, his expression brightening as he gave them a little wave. Beck’s heart leaped into his throat as he waved back, tearing his gaze away. “Oh, you’re so hopeless.” Layla teased, screeching as Beck swatted at her with his paperback.

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Actually got the courage to attempt drawing some of my Oc’s!!!!

My OC's (1/2)

Since my artistic skill is a bit lacking I've take to picrew to design my Oc's. Here's the Picrew I used for anyone that's interested.

This is Molly Williams, my waitress Oc, from Disaster Control. She's sweet as can be with a good head on her shoulders. Often it can seem like she's a bit of flirt, but pets names just happen to be her love language

This is her hopefully soon to be boyfriend Mark Doyle from the same fic. He's kind of big ol' goof, but he always gives everything he does his best. Here's a height comparison for the two of them.

I always imagine Mark being a pretty big dude all around. I actually wanted to make him taller but then I didn't think it would be realistic for Molly in all her five foot glory to be hauling his butt around while he's half delirious in the second part of Disaster Control. So instead I gave all his height to her brother Tyler's future boyfriend Nicholas (Nick) Perry, my favorite cryptid the human pipe cleaner.

Think Shaggy from Scooby Doo, this man is 6'2" build like a beanpole and looks a strong breeze would take him out. Despite that he's a pretty outdoorsy dude and is deceptively strong. If Nicholas could live outside in a tree he probably would, this man is a child of the dirt.

This is his boyfriend and Molly's twin brother Tyler Willams from Stranger on the Roof.

Tyler is exactly 5'2 and is very proud of the extra two inches he has on his sister. She likes to remind him that she's technically two minutes older than him.

He's kind of a shorter stockier dude, and his fashion consists of probably some of the ugliest button ups you've ever seen.

Despite being quite intelligent and appearing put together, Tyler is a disaster. He barely sleeps and is the worst about procrastinating often leaving most things to the last minute

Here's their heights for comparison.

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Reblog if I'm allowed to not just like your work, not just reblog it, but leave a comment on why I wanted to reblog it.

And maybe even add it into a rec list, and if I have permission to ask you if I can make related media, like a sketch or mood board or playlist, etc.

Lots of 'and's. Feel free to note in your tags if you have a general yes with different details!

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Quiet Intimacy

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to write this, but I wanted to capture a quiet intimate moment between two people. Who better to that with that Mark and Molly I guess lol

As alway minor DNI and I hope you enjoy reading it. Molly’s eyes flew open as she jerked awake. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, pondering her sudden consciousness, when the mattress beneath her shuddered slightly. A soft sound caught her ears as she strained to hear it. “HHgnkKtt!” Molly rolled over to face Mark, but his back was turned toward her, the muscles in his back trembling with another tightly contained expulsion. Her heart softened in her chest as she rolled over to her end of the bed, stretching her arm out so that she could barely reach the tissue box perched on her nightstand. Fingertips brushing it as she fumbled to grasp it. When she’d snagged it, Molly rolled back over to face her boyfriend, setting the box carefully in the space between their heads. Then she shimmed over to him, languidly looping her arms around Mark's frame as he tensed before melting into her touch like warm molasses. She tugged, rolling him onto his back with ease as Molly swung her leg over his hips, resting on his stomach. Letting her eyes roam over him, she assessed the damage. The circles were so dark under Mark's eyes, they almost looked bruised. Her gaze trailed downward, noting his face was puffy, his sinus surely a swollen, itchy mess. His nose wasn’t much better. The skin around his nostrils was chapped, red, and irritated, threatening to ooze past the rims. The picture of perfect misery. Mark’s lips parted, but she shook her head, brushing his bangs away from his face, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. Molly’s chest tightened, feeling the heat coming off of him. She plucked a couple of tissues from the box resting by his head, dabbing underneath his tender nose, gently pinching away the mess leaking from them. His chest swelled underneath her with gasping breaths, and she could feel his nostrils flutter through the thin paper, cupping it securely around his nose. “HIhHH-! Hih! HhdtzzZSSCHHiew!!…hH’atzzZSChhihhww!!” They burst out of him, in a thick cloud of spray that she caught in a bouquet of tissues. Molly hummed her sympathy, swiping away the mess before balling the tissues up and tossing them on the nightstand.

  Leaning over till she was almost falling off the bed, Molly slid open the drawer on his nightstand, rummaging around until her finger brushed her prize. Grasping it in her hand. She made a noise of triumph as she plucked a small blue jar from the drawer. When she opened it and a strong menthol scent wafted from it, drawing a thin, congested whine from Mark’s throat. Molly shushed him softly, smoothing back his hair from his face, before making quick work of the buttons on his sleep shirt, undoing them with nimble fingers. Dipping her fingertips in the jar, she gathered a sizeable dollop of gel, smearing it across his collarbone, and massaging it into his chest. She could hear his breath crackle as he inhaled, the menthol working to break up the congestion. She ended by swiping a strip of gel down the bridge of Mark's nose, before swiping a second one underneath his glowing nostrils. Mark's chest jumped underneath her with hiccuping breaths, while she snagged tissues from the box covering his nose. “Hhh… f-huuugck– hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUE!! —heh-hH! HhHUh’dssSSCCHhhuhw!” Molly pinched the tissues around his nostrils, and reflexively, he released a burbling blow into the soft white folds. She pinched away any excess, tossing the tissues aside with the rest of them. Rearanging the pillows, she lay back against them, shifting so that Mark could rest against her chest as she drew soft shapes on his back with her fingertips. Ignoring the tug of exhaustion, she felt tugging at her. It didn’t take long for Mark's breath to even out, as he started to snore. Slowly but surely drifting back to sleep.

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Quiet Intimacy

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to write this, but I wanted to capture a quiet intimate moment between two people. Who better to that with that Mark and Molly I guess lol

As alway minor DNI and I hope you enjoy reading it. Molly’s eyes flew open as she jerked awake. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, pondering her sudden consciousness, when the mattress beneath her shuddered slightly. A soft sound caught her ears as she strained to hear it. “HHgnkKtt!” Molly rolled over to face Mark, but his back was turned toward her, the muscles in his back trembling with another tightly contained expulsion. Her heart softened in her chest as she rolled over to her end of the bed, stretching her arm out so that she could barely reach the tissue box perched on her nightstand. Fingertips brushing it as she fumbled to grasp it. When she’d snagged it, Molly rolled back over to face her boyfriend, setting the box carefully in the space between their heads. Then she shimmed over to him, languidly looping her arms around Mark's frame as he tensed before melting into her touch like warm molasses. She tugged, rolling him onto his back with ease as Molly swung her leg over his hips, resting on his stomach. Letting her eyes roam over him, she assessed the damage. The circles were so dark under Mark's eyes, they almost looked bruised. Her gaze trailed downward, noting his face was puffy, his sinus surely a swollen, itchy mess. His nose wasn’t much better. The skin around his nostrils was chapped, red, and irritated, threatening to ooze past the rims. The picture of perfect misery. Mark’s lips parted, but she shook her head, brushing his bangs away from his face, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. Molly’s chest tightened, feeling the heat coming off of him. She plucked a couple of tissues from the box resting by his head, dabbing underneath his tender nose, gently pinching away the mess leaking from them. His chest swelled underneath her with gasping breaths, and she could feel his nostrils flutter through the thin paper, cupping it securely around his nose. “HIhHH-! Hih! HhdtzzZSSCHHiew!!…hH’atzzZSChhihhww!!” They burst out of him, in a thick cloud of spray that she caught in a bouquet of tissues. Molly hummed her sympathy, swiping away the mess before balling the tissues up and tossing them on the nightstand.

  Leaning over till she was almost falling off the bed, Molly slid open the drawer on his nightstand, rummaging around until her finger brushed her prize. Grasping it in her hand. She made a noise of triumph as she plucked a small blue jar from the drawer. When she opened it and a strong menthol scent wafted from it, drawing a thin, congested whine from Mark’s throat. Molly shushed him softly, smoothing back his hair from his face, before making quick work of the buttons on his sleep shirt, undoing them with nimble fingers. Dipping her fingertips in the jar, she gathered a sizeable dollop of gel, smearing it across his collarbone, and massaging it into his chest. She could hear his breath crackle as he inhaled, the menthol working to break up the congestion. She ended by swiping a strip of gel down the bridge of Mark's nose, before swiping a second one underneath his glowing nostrils. Mark's chest jumped underneath her with hiccuping breaths, while she snagged tissues from the box covering his nose. “Hhh… f-huuugck– hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUE!! —heh-hH! HhHUh’dssSSCCHhhuhw!” Molly pinched the tissues around his nostrils, and reflexively, he released a burbling blow into the soft white folds. She pinched away any excess, tossing the tissues aside with the rest of them. Rearanging the pillows, she lay back against them, shifting so that Mark could rest against her chest as she drew soft shapes on his back with her fingertips. Ignoring the tug of exhaustion, she felt tugging at her. It didn’t take long for Mark's breath to even out, as he started to snore. Slowly but surely drifting back to sleep.

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Nick shifted awkwardly from his place on the bed. “I guess I should probably be headigg out sood, dod’t wadt to overstay by welcobe after all.” He moved to get up, but Tyler stopped him. “I mean you don’t have to, that is, if you don’t have anything to do today. I don’t, so I don’t mind having you around a bit longer.” Tyler rambled, they words tumbling over themselves as they rushed out of his mouth. Nick stared at him for a minute, brow furrowed. “You’re awfully dice to a guy that broke idto your roob, thed proceeded to sdeeze all over you.” He commented, lips curving into a smile. “Ok, first, you didn’t break in, I invited you in, huge difference, second, I already forgave you for sneezing on me thing, and third, maybe having you around isn’t so bad.” Tyler said, fumbling over his words. “Oh really?” Nick grinned, moving closer to Tyler, letting his eyes wander over his face before lingering on his lips. Tyler could feel his heart stutter in his chest, not believing this was happening to him. He moved closer so their lips brushed against each other, waiting for the other man to make the first move. It seemed like Nick was going to his warm breath ghosting over him as he leaned in. Instead, his breath caught sharply in his chest as he turned away. “HahYISHIIEW Hih-Tishieeeeew…gh.” Nick covered his nose with his hand, reaching out the free one to grab some tissues, and Tyler averted his gaze momentarily while he got himself cleaned up. “Seriously, I’m so gross,” Nick whined, “I dod’t dow how you could fidd be ady kidd of attractive right dow.” Tyler looked at the other man, pondering his statement. The other boy looked exhausted and rumpled from sleep. His cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink, and his nose was starting to take on the same tinge. Everything about him screamed sick. “I guess I’m not a germaphobe.” Tyler shrugged, leaning back in and kissing Nick. The other boy squeaked in surprise, but quickly reciprocated. It wasn’t the best kiss Tyler had shared with anyone. It was sloppy and a bit salty as Nick’s nose ran, the other boy occationally breaking so that he could come up for air. Still, it was nice, sweet in a way that left Tyler aching for more. He was sure that he could spend the rest of his life in this moment, and still die a happy man, when a rapping on his door broke through the silence. Nick pulled away like he’d been burned, and Tyler leaped back, tumbling off the bed with a thud and a hiss. “Come on, Tyler, you said you’d let me borrow your car today!” Beck’s called out. The doorknob jiggles, and the door opens slightly as Tyler sprints over to it, shoving it shut again. “Dude, I’m not even dressed, give me a minute.” He calls out, hoping to buy himself some time. It was quiet on the other side of the door, and for a moment, Tyler was worried he wasn’t convincing enough. “Fine, but if you're not dressed in five, I’m coming in regardless.” Beck answered, and the door creaked as his roommate leaned up against it. Tyler stumbled around the room gathering up his clothes, and Nick turned away to give him some privacy to change. He grabbed his keys from his nightstand and went to the door, opening it just enough to slide through.

Beck raised a brow at his friend. “You’re acting weird, what are you hiding there, a man?” “You wish.” Tyler snorted, feeling his chest flutter anxiously. He hoped it didn’t show in his expression, as Beck had no way of knowing how right he was. He tossed his keys to Beck, and the other man shrugged. Tyler was so sure he’d gotten away without having to explain the sudden appearance of his unexpected guest. “Hih’YISHIEW!!!” His roommate halted in his tracks, and with an eerie slowness, Beck turned to Tyler. “You don’t have a person in your room, because there’s no way you snuck a guy past me, right, Tyler?” Beck questioned, and Tyler shrugged, feeling himself start to sweat. “I didn’t sneak him past you…he just kind of showed up.” Tyler answered. Beck opened his mouth to continue, but the alarm on his watch went off before he could say anything, so instead he just jabbed Tyler in the chest with his finger. “You’re so explaining this when I get home.” Tyler nodded, turning to deal with the man still sitting in his room and Beck left for work.

Stranger On the Rooftop (2/?)

More with boys Tyler and Nick from my odd little scenario with special guest appearance of Tyler's roommate Beck. Spoilers there's kissing in this one, lol. Oh also I had to break this post into two parts so the second part of this update is in reblog of this post. Part One

CW: Slight mess and contagion

Tyler woke up the following morning, trying to sit up, but something warm and heavy kept him pinned to the bed. He tried not to panic when he saw a pair of limbs looped lazily around his torso. It took a minute of racking his brain to remember the events of the previous night, memories slowly trickling back to him. Letting Nick climb in through his window, offering the man his bed, and his half-asleep decision to crawl into bed with the strange man all came back to him. Carefully, Tyler unwound himself from Nick’s embrace, not wanting to wake him. When he was free, Tyler tumbled to the floor, landing on the ground with a thud. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered how he was going to explain his unexpected guest to his roommate.

He decided that was a problem for after he’d had breakfast. Tyler went to their kitchenette, pulling out a plate, pausing for a moment before pulling out a second one. It couldn’t hurt to make something for his new friend. They didn’t have much in the way of sick people food, but he figured eggs and toast were reasonable enough. He ate at the table before grabbing the second plate, carrying it up to his room.

Nick was still out cold, having rolled onto his back, splayed out like a starfish. His mouth hung open wide as he snored like a chainsaw, leaving Tyler to wonder how he’d managed to sleep through it.

He set the plate on the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the bed. Tyler reached out, shaking the other man’s shoulder, snorting in amusement as Nick rolled over, grumbling. He shook him a bit harder, and this time his eyes blinked open blearily, before getting wide with fear as he shot up, nearly tumbling off the bed.

“Whoa!” Tyler exclaimed, narrowly managing to keep the other from falling. Their faces so close their noses almost brushed, lips inches apart.

He couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking to Nick’s lips briefly. They parted slightly so Nick could say something, but instead, his breath caught, stuttering as a hazy expression crossed his face. Tyler didn’t recognize the warning signs until it was too late.

“Hhh’HIH’YSSHhuu!” Their foreheads cracked together. The spray misted his face as Tyler reeled back with a hiss, rubbing the spot where he was sure a lump would be forming. Nick mirrored Tyler’s expression before looking mortified. “Crap! I totally sdeezed od you! That’s so gross!!” “It’s fine, it’s my fault for being so close.” Tyler grimaced, discreetly wiping the spray from his face with his sleeve. He grabbed the plate of food off the nightstand, and Nick looked a little green at the sight of it. “Come on, man, I went to the trouble of making it, at least try a couple of bites.” Tyler says, pressing the plate into his hand. Nick pouted, picking up the toast and nibbling on it. He managed to eat a slice of toast and a couple of bites of eggs before he set aside the plate, looking a bit queasy. Tyler was satisfied, though, taking the plate away before returning with a glass of water. “Thagks for dot calligg the cops od be last dight…why didd’t you call the cops od be last dight adyway?” Nick asked, sipping on his water cautiously so as not to upset his stomach. “I don’t know, I guess I felt bad for you, and you didn’t seem too threatening.” Tyler shrugged, taking a seat on the bed across from Nick. “Dard, I was hopigg it was by charb add rugged good looks.” Nick said, waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin. “I guess those were a plus.” Tyler teased, going to their medicine cabinet to grab some cold medicine, measuring out the correct dose before returning to his spot on the bed. Nick took it from him with a grimace, before downing it like a shot, gagging afterward. Tyler nudged the trash can by his bed a bit closer just in case, but luckily, it seemed Nick would not be needing it. 

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Stranger On the Rooftop (2/?)

More with boys Tyler and Nick from my odd little scenario with special guest appearance of Tyler's roommate Beck. Spoilers there's kissing in this one, lol. Oh also I had to break this post into two parts so the second part of this update is in reblog of this post. Part One

CW: Slight mess and contagion

Tyler woke up the following morning, trying to sit up, but something warm and heavy kept him pinned to the bed. He tried not to panic when he saw a pair of limbs looped lazily around his torso. It took a minute of racking his brain to remember the events of the previous night, memories slowly trickling back to him. Letting Nick climb in through his window, offering the man his bed, and his half-asleep decision to crawl into bed with the strange man all came back to him. Carefully, Tyler unwound himself from Nick’s embrace, not wanting to wake him. When he was free, Tyler tumbled to the floor, landing on the ground with a thud. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered how he was going to explain his unexpected guest to his roommate.

He decided that was a problem for after he’d had breakfast. Tyler went to their kitchenette, pulling out a plate, pausing for a moment before pulling out a second one. It couldn’t hurt to make something for his new friend. They didn’t have much in the way of sick people food, but he figured eggs and toast were reasonable enough. He ate at the table before grabbing the second plate, carrying it up to his room.

Nick was still out cold, having rolled onto his back, splayed out like a starfish. His mouth hung open wide as he snored like a chainsaw, leaving Tyler to wonder how he’d managed to sleep through it.

He set the plate on the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the bed. Tyler reached out, shaking the other man’s shoulder, snorting in amusement as Nick rolled over, grumbling. He shook him a bit harder, and this time his eyes blinked open blearily, before getting wide with fear as he shot up, nearly tumbling off the bed.

“Whoa!” Tyler exclaimed, narrowly managing to keep the other from falling. Their faces so close their noses almost brushed, lips inches apart.

He couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking to Nick’s lips briefly. They parted slightly so Nick could say something, but instead, his breath caught, stuttering as a hazy expression crossed his face. Tyler didn’t recognize the warning signs until it was too late.

“Hhh’HIH’YSSHhuu!” Their foreheads cracked together. The spray misted his face as Tyler reeled back with a hiss, rubbing the spot where he was sure a lump would be forming. Nick mirrored Tyler’s expression before looking mortified. “Crap! I totally sdeezed od you! That’s so gross!!” “It’s fine, it’s my fault for being so close.” Tyler grimaced, discreetly wiping the spray from his face with his sleeve. He grabbed the plate of food off the nightstand, and Nick looked a little green at the sight of it. “Come on, man, I went to the trouble of making it, at least try a couple of bites.” Tyler says, pressing the plate into his hand. Nick pouted, picking up the toast and nibbling on it. He managed to eat a slice of toast and a couple of bites of eggs before he set aside the plate, looking a bit queasy. Tyler was satisfied, though, taking the plate away before returning with a glass of water. “Thagks for dot calligg the cops od be last dight…why didd’t you call the cops od be last dight adyway?” Nick asked, sipping on his water cautiously so as not to upset his stomach. “I don’t know, I guess I felt bad for you, and you didn’t seem too threatening.” Tyler shrugged, taking a seat on the bed across from Nick. “Dard, I was hopigg it was by charb add rugged good looks.” Nick said, waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin. “I guess those were a plus.” Tyler teased, going to their medicine cabinet to grab some cold medicine, measuring out the correct dose before returning to his spot on the bed. Nick took it from him with a grimace, before downing it like a shot, gagging afterward. Tyler nudged the trash can by his bed a bit closer just in case, but luckily, it seemed Nick would not be needing it. 

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Best Laid Plans - Part 3

Details: 11k, M sneezes, no pairing (for this part)

Summary: A secret agent is going undercover for a few days, and his target has a sneeze fetish. When preparing his next move, he finds even the best laid plans go awry.

PART 2 - PART 3 -

EVERYONE 🥹💖 Thank you so, so much for your continued support and kindness!!!! 😭 I’m just over the moon that folks are enjoying this and I’ve deeply appreciated all the likes, comments, reblogs, and asks!! I feel like I’ll never be able to say thank you enough times to everyone 😂💕 Please know that I’ve read each and every wonderful word you all have said and those sentiments have given me soul power!!! 💫

This is a fluffy interlude, but it will spice up again in Part 4! 😏 These are original characters, all in their mid twenties to early thirties. Please mind the warnings if anything here might be uncomfy for you.

(Warnings: Unrealistic science, Mess Lite™, getting sneezed on [accidentally, not in detail], questionable coworker dynamics [discussing sexual pleasure in a professional way], humiliation themes [main character gets embarrassed from sexual discussion], micro/macro [it’s a dream], masturbation, being induced by another person [not on purpose], feeling pleasure from sneezing).

THIS STORY IS NSFW!

-

The Wooden Lantern, tomorrow, 6:30pm. 

Omicron knew the place. He’d studied the resort’s directory extensively before they arrived. It was a high class, low-light, white table cloth and well-dressed waiter kind of restaurant. Either Josaline and her husband booked a reservation far in advance or they had the clout to demand one. The backdrop set the tone — extravagant, intimate, an evening of whispered banter. They better not expect me to pay, he thought, weaving around a housekeeper with a cart of towels and sheets. Head office probably won’t foot the bill.

It took longer than planned to pry himself away from Josaline. She was content to lounge for as long as he’d let her, asking him idle questions and tracing shapes on his chest with the tips of her fingers. All the while, she watched his nose. To Omicron it seemed like she was reluctant to miss even a second of his nasal misery, and she was treated to a fair amount of sniffling, sneezing, and nose blowing while they talked. When he finally managed to extricate himself, he surmised his nose was as red as the sunset. The light painted brilliant streaks over the coastline and reduced distant seagulls to silhouettes as they flew over sparkling water. 

And somehow, looking too long at the birds flapping their wings meant he had to sneeze. Bitterly, Omicron tucked a finger beneath his nostrils. They began to flare, anxious as the tickle took flight somewhere in his sinuses. Indulging this in his hotel room was better than the hallway, so Omicron picked up his pace. He could feel the sensation worsen, his nerves trembling, and soon a whole flock of frantic tickles startled into motion.

“-hhHH-” He flipped his hand up over his nose and increased his power walk to a near sprint.

“-gUH!hhh..HHH-” He skidded to his room door and through tears he scanned the keycard, shoved himself inside-

“HHEH’DZZssch!”

“Oh, here he is. He just got back.”

Omicron eased his eyes open long enough to see Agent Delta with his phone to his ear, frowning at him.

“Bless-”

“-IHCHZSSH’oo!” He flattened a hand to his chest, feeling himself breathe and breathe and- “..hah!-CHIZSSH’uh!.. ngghh..”

Omicron groaned and belatedly nosed into his shirt, at this point a decimated, jumbo-sized rag hanging limply from his hand.

“Bless you.” Delta delivered it firmly, and asked in the same tone, “How are you feeling?”

“Whad?” he asked, muffled at first before he lowered the shirt. “I’b fine.”

The senior agent gave him a doubtful once-over, then spoke to whomever was on the phone. “He says he’s fine.”

Muzzily, Omicron looked down at himself. Then sidelong to the closet door mirror. He stood only in his swim trunks, bare from his hips up with hair made wild by hungry hands and a smattering of burgundy lipstick across his throat. Worst was his nose, just as raw and sore looking as it felt. It twitched as he watched, his nostrils slowly stretching wide. His expression collapsed by degrees, jaw slacking, eyelids fluttering, chin tilting, chest lifting in one long breath.

“hhhhhHHH’ADZSSHiew!!” he sneezed, and threw himself a step forward.

Delta sighed. “Bless you.”

Once again Omicron lifted his shirt late and huffed a frustrated sigh of his own. When the tickle came over him, he couldn’t do more than simply sneeze. His days of diligent etiquette were long behind him now. There was a tap on his shoulder and when he looked up, Delta was standing in front of him with a fresh box of unscented, lotion-infused tissues. Omicron could have cried.

“Thag’k you-” he choked, snatching a handful just before he “-hd’ZZSSCH!-guh..”

He transitioned his groan into a strengthless blow of his nose. Even for how little effort he used, the action was productive — more audibly than he would have preferred. At least the tissues didn’t chafe. It took several rounds, Delta patiently holding the box for him, until Omicron’s sniffling was stuffy but dry. The tickle relaxed as much as it ever did, tracing shapes against his membranes. It reminded him of Josaline. By the time he was finished, Delta had traded the box for the room’s little trash bin. 

“Yes, just a moment..” he said into the phone, then tipped the bin expectantly at Omicron. Meekly, he dropped in all his tissues (as well as his shirt, it was a lost cause) as Delta continued. “Let me speak with him first.”

Omicron tried to cobble together some semblance of professionalism. He straightened his spine and folded his hands into a parade rest to deliver his report. “Sir, there is a new development-”

“Apologies, Omicron, that will have to wait,” Delta bulldozed over him. “Something’s come up.”

A prickle of anxiety raised the hairs at the back of his neck. “… Sir?”

“It concerns your condition,” Delta replied, and his faltering loss of eye contact didn’t reassure Omicron in the slightest. “It’s a.. delicate subject, so I’ll leave this to Dr. Voster.”

Omicron closed his eyes in exasperation. He’d forgotten about her. Shit. Delta passed him the phone, and then very conspicuously occupied himself across the room.

Bracing himself, Omicron lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes?”

“Hi, Agent Omicron,” said Dr. Voster in a tinny voice from the receiver. “You’re a hard man to get a hold of lately.”

“Well, I’ve been a bit busy,” he said, then lifted a fist to his nose. Idle as the tickle was, the incessant, gossamer sensation of it was beginning to bother him. “Forgive me if I don’t have time to shoot the breeze.”

“You think I’d come to you for small talk? I’d have better luck with a brick wall.”

“Noted,” he replied as he glanced around for the tissue box. He found it sitting on his bed. “Are you calling to berate me or is there something you want?”

“If you remember from yesterday,” she insisted with unnecessary attitude, “I’m calling to talk about your nose.”

The tickle twinged, perking up like a dog to a whistling call. The rims of his eyes grew wet. His breath hiccuped. “I’d reahh- hly rather not.”

“Too bad, I’ll cut to the chase: are you getting erections when you sneeze?”

Her words pierced him like arrows, followed by the bleed of heat into his cheeks, ears, and neck. Omicron’s hand froze halfway to his face, tissues hovering. She knows, his mind shrieked. She knows. He whipped his head to Delta, who was faffing pointlessly with his suitcase while pretending to ignore the conversation unfolding across the room. And so does he.

“Your silence is telling,” said Anita.

“No.” His mind was static and his mouth was dry. Words wouldn’t flow. “I’m not.. No.”

The lie was so poorly delivered that it wouldn’t have fooled anyone. Sweat slinked down his nape. Dr. Voster blew a breath over the line, sharp and rueful. “Welp. That one’s on me.”

He darted another glance to Delta and caught the man staring just before they simultaneously turned away. Meanwhile, the tickle followed the path of a twitching nerve with a light, curious touch. Hunching his shoulders and scrunching his face, Omicron mumbled into the receiver. 

“What’s that supposed tuhh.. to mean?”

“Your reaction at the lab was extreme, in relation to the vigor of your sneezing as well as the presence of physiological responses indicating arousal,” she explained, her tone appreciably analytic despite the awkward topic. “Dilated pupils, shortness of breath, difficulty concentrating..”

She suspected it from the beginning? Omicron reeled. It made sense; she was impressively educated and one of the most respected techs at the agency. Her knowledge ranged from biology, physiology, immunology, and beyond. In retrospect, he’d been a fool to think he could ever hide something like this from her. 

“Even so, I couldn’t be sure. It warranted further research and I found something unexpected.”

Omicron pushed a hand through his hair, pressing his thumb into the soft indent of his temple. He’d walked in here with a headache and he could tell this conversation would only make it worse. “Oh?”

“It’s a little known fact that parts of the nose contain the same type of erectile tissue as the genitals, and both are linked to the body’s autonomic nervous system.” 

As she spoke, the tickle feathered a persistent, teasing swirl around a sensitive spot. His inflamed membranes pulsed insistently, as did his chapped nostrils. He tried his damned best to ignore it. “... Pardon?”

“I believe because I gave you a higher dose of viral particles than you needed, the overstimulation of your nasal nerves is causing an echoing effect to the erectile tissue in your penis.”

A dangerous emotion lurched up from Omicron’s stomach and got caught behind his teeth: anger. It warred, then mixed, with his humiliation. Exhaustion eroded his willingness to swallow it back down. 

“This is actually not unheard of. Kinks aside, some people experience this during intercourse, or even from simply thinking about sex, though usually the arousal causes sneezing rather than the other way around..”

Anita blathered on about speculative science, and the bubbling pot of annoyance he’d nursed since the start of this assignment at last began to boil over. Frustration erupted into rage.

“..Still, it’s a variable I completely overlooked. I’m sorry, Omicron.”

“Sorry?” he barked, raising his volume to a throat-scratching degree. “You’re sorry? Are you serious?”

There was a pause over the line. “.. Yes?”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” The ardor in his voice vibrated in his sinuses, heightening the caressing sensations of the tickle, which only angered him more. “Yhh-You told me I wouldn’t b-be comprhhuh-.. hhmised by your stupid experiment!”

“That was before I saw its effects in action. I advised you not to go forward with the mission, remember? I only agreed in front of Delta because you looked so sad. It was foolish on my part. I should’ve grounded you.”

“So that I could suffer for your mbistake??” he demanded. His nostrils shivered and he shoved them with the heel of his palm. Congestion clogged his words. “I’ve waited so long for this mbission, Anita, you kdnow I have!”

“It wasn’t my intention to compromise you, Omicron,” and while she said it with contrition, there was also resignation. “I can’t predict every outcome. It’s just one of those things.”

The pragmatism in her voice only fueled his fire, but before he could assemble his response, the tickle struck. Even in the throes of wrath it wouldn’t leave him be. Its touch seeped through his nose like a spill. His lungs jumped with a single breath, and then Omicron’s head snapped down. 

“DDJZSSsh’oo!”

The sneeze staggered him two steps back and another was fast on the rise. It held him hostage in its grip, but Anita’s curt “bless you” in his ear waylaid the urge. He fulcrumed a finger beneath his nose to buy time. Emotion roared up from his chest and broke out of him in a rambling crash. 

“I get one chandce! One. To prove mbyself and if I fail they’re gonna relegate mbe to archives and filing duties for the rest of mby career!!”

He was peripherally aware of Delta, who’d at some point moved to stand in front of him. There was something in his hand, a gadget Omicron recognized but couldn’t think to name. His vision tunneled, dark at the edges. His heart pounded in his ears. His nose twitched ominously, not to be delayed much longer. 

“I c-.. hhhan’dt lose this case,” he was babbling, quicker and quicker when his nostrils began to flare. The burgeoning sneeze tugged his eyelids shut and stole his breath away. “It’ll- it.. iyeehh…h-HH!hck’KZSShiu!”

Dr. Voster took the opportunity to cut in; she sounded deliberately calm as he sniffled fitfully through a recovery. “Omicron, listen to me, you’re catastrophizing. Slow down for a second and breathe.”

“Ndo, you listen!” His voice cracked and an ugly desperation made itself known. “They’ll really do it, if I’b ndot perfect they’ll write mbe off a’d I’ll end up a cautionary tale, they’ll laugh mbe out of the agency, everythi’g I’ve worked for will be for dnothi’g, I-”

Glowing numbers flashed in front of his eyes. Omicron startled, teetering unevenly on his feet. At first he had no idea what it was, but as his vision steadied the image formed. Delta stood before him, grim, offering the readout screen of an infrared thermometer.

The numbers read 102.4°F / 39.1°C . Omicron squinted at them, uncomprehending.

“... what’s thad?” he rasped.

Delta’s reply was immediate and immutable. “Your fever.”

Omicron blinked. Squinted harder. Read the numbers again even as they started to blur. I have a fever? he asked himself. As his fury ebbed, new sensations emerged: the painful heat radiating from his head, a pervasive chill seeping from his core, the weakness in his knees and the cotton in his ears. He began listing to the side. The phone slipped from his hand.

Oh, he realized. I have a fever.

“Oop!” Delta dashed and caught him before he could swoon to the floor. Together they sank in a controlled descent as the senior agent muttered, “Easy now, easy..” under his breath. Once they were down, Omicron tucked his head into his knees and tried to fend off the headrush.

Indistinct voices floated around him. He could only catch snippets of conversation — “high grade temperature,” and “want you here by morning” — and he gave up on the rest. Instead, he concentrated on the bracing passes of Delta’s broad hand across the span of his sweaty shoulders. It took longer than he liked, but eventually Omicron raised his head with minimal dizziness. He stared into the weave of the carpet.

“Did she hang up?”

“Yes,” Delta said beside him. “She gave me a list of questions to ask you when you’re feeling a bit better.”

Omicron dropped his head back to his knees. “... is she upset?”

“At your outburst?” Delta asked, and his subordinate cringed. “She’s more worried about you than upset, but you wouldn’t be remiss to apologize when she arrives.”

In the aftermath of his tantrum, clarity pricked him like a thorn. This was as much his fault as it was Anita’s. It was true her virus yielded unexpected results, but by concealing them from her, he’d failed in his responsibility as a teammate. She put her trust in him, and he let her down. There were few things more painful for him than owning his mistakes.

Stewing in his shame, he sniffled and said the only thing he could say. “I’b sorry, sir.”

Delta’s smile grew warm at the edges. “I’m not the one you shouted at, but I’ll accept your apology since you lied to me too.”

God, he wished the ground would just swallow him whole. Omicron folded into an even smaller ball, arms tightening around his shins. The position made his nose run, which required frequent snuffling for maintenance, but he’d rather do that than look Delta in the eye.

“I expect honesty from you, agent. Full stop. Not a single lie moving forward, either directly or by omission. Am I understood?”

Omicron could barely force himself above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“Not just about the virus,” his superior continued, “but also your wellbeing. You’ve put so much pressure on yourself, Omicron. I had no idea you were under the impression that this assignment would be your only chance to succeed.”

Without anger as a shield, he’d lost his last defense. Delta’s sympathy felt like a punch in the gut. Even worse, his near constant sniffles were going to make him sneeze. He keenly felt each bead of moisture drip down his stressed passages, then skate back up with every subsequent snatch of air. It was unabating, alluring, and it coaxed little sighs from his lip when he exhaled. He didn’t have to wait long.

“..hh’MMPHssh!!Huh..” Omicron muffled it into his knees, his entire body trembling. Then he hurried to respond before he could be blessed. “-but it’s true, righd?”

“Come again?” Delta asked, and when Omicron spoke it again with more volume, he could hear Delta’s brow furrow just from the way he replied, “No, it’s not true at all. Did someone tell you differently?”

With reluctance, Omicron lifted his head and confirmed with a stuffy mumble. “.. Agent Rho did.”

“Rho!” Delta scoffed, as if he could scold the agent from here. His voice lowered to a grumble, and that told Omicron exactly how Delta felt about Rho. “Don’t listen to them. They enjoy scaring less experienced agents.”

(Here Omicron swore a silent, seething vow that he would exact calculated revenge upon Agent Rho for their transgressions against him. Delta continued, oblivious.)

“A reprehensible practice, but between you and I, head office rarely entertains my complaints on the matter.”

Head office… Fuzzy worries came into focus as Omicron muddled through another lazy, slow-to-arrive sneeze. The fog of it clouded his expression as he tried in vain to soldier on.

“Are you goi’g t-.. hih’KIZSsh!” he bobbed his head, then slitted his eyes open only for them to flutter closed again. “..ehKZSSh’uh!... mmbgh..” 

“Bless you,” said Delta, watching Omicron cup a hand over his nose. “Here, use these.”

Delta held out the tissue box, still half-full with soft paper, and Omicron plucked out several. His breath hitched high, voice heady, as he attempted to relay gratitude. 

“Th-hhah.. ah’NKZSSS’hoo!” He crushed it into the tissues, and then flushed with a fresh layer of chagrin when Delta chuckled.

“Bless you, Omicron, you’re welcome.” He waited for the nose blowing to stop before he continued. “You were saying?... ‘Am I going to’ what?”

Oh, right, his question.. With fever, congestion, and the pledge of sneezes crowding his head, holding onto a thought longer than a few seconds felt next to impossible. “Are you going to ground me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Delta replied. “Considering your condition, I should say yes, but I’d like Dr. Voster’s opinion first. You’re making progress on this case and I’d hate to halt your momentum prematurely.”

That was fair. Uncontrollable boners and a fever on active duty would probably dissuade any overseeing officer from adapting a ‘push through’ mentality. Especially Delta, since the man had the most heavily bleeding heart Omicron had ever known. It would be up to Anita, then; he couldn’t muster the energy to fret about it right now. They sat together while Omicron tended to his fidgety nose, still side by side on the floor, until Delta made a sound of recollection.

“Speaking of the case, didn’t you mention a development? I interrupted you earlier. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Ahhhh, dammit, Omicron lamented. I forgot about that too.

Even before Anita threw her wrench, he hadn’t been sure how his date tomorrow would go over with Delta. He’d had plans of carefully breaking the news, laying out the variables and working gradually to the big reveal. But now he could barely remember the basic idea, let alone complex and eloquent details. Wracking his boiling brain did nothing but cost him his opportunity; the meandering tickle of his cold stumbled yet again on sensitive territory.

“-Hah…” It lured a dreading sound from his lips as the urge niggled him. Hadn’t he sneezed enough? His count had to be over a hundred by now, and yet his nose wasn’t satisfied. Overworked as they were, his nasal nerves were as ceaseless in their goals as the virus was. “..hiH-.. ngh..”

Omicron cut his losses. Either he ripped the bandaid off or wasted another ten minutes sneezing while his cold tickled him senseless. He took a moment to steady his breathing before saying, “...She has a hus’BEHSsh’oo!”

It startled them both, barreling out of him freely and with an unfortunate lack of cover. Delta flinched away, visibly caught in the crossfire, and Omicron panicked. Both hands jerked up to cover his nose as a whiplash of shame froze him to the bone. 

“Fuck, I’b so siihH-” Oh god, again? His breath wavered at the top of his throat, almost a whimper, and he was so discombobulated from the first one that he couldn’t prepare for the second. “-ih’GXCHHT!”

It ran roughshod, mostly through his nose, and it scraped his sinuses on the way out. Very unpleasant, but fortunately the tickle had to play second fiddle to the stinging aftermath. Omicron hitched down from the high, hands still cemented to his face for modesty and eyelashes sticking with tears as he threw a glance to his superior.

“b’sorry!” he eked out, and he must have looked truly miserable because Delta’s eyes widened.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” he said earnestly, with a shake of his head and a consoling pat to Omicron’s back. “I’m not upset, I know that was an accident. Don’t worry about it, hm? Here..”

He fished up the tissue box in offering before politely turning away as Omicron cleaned himself up. The mortification nearly crushed him, but still the junior agent reeled with relief. He could trust his superior at his word that he wasn’t upset; it just wasn’t in Delta’s nature to lie, unless it was for his cover. It took nearly the rest of the box before Omicron deemed himself decent, and even then he pinned a preemptive bushel of tissues around his nose in case another sneeze got away from him. Delta was looking at him with such effusive compassion that Omicron delivered his news without preamble, desperate to change the subject.

“I got invited to a threesome with Josaline and her secret husband,” he said from behind his hands.

Agent Delta was gobsmacked. “Wh- Josaline Jewel has a husband?”

Omicron nodded.

“We have no intel to suggest that at all. Are you sure?”

Omicron nodded again.

There was a bewildered pause, then an even more disbelieving, “And you’ve scheduled a threesome with them?”

For a third time Omicron nodded, bleary-eyed over the edge of his tissues. Beneath his hands, his nostrils spasmed around the shape of a sluggish itch. It stalled out somewhere in his sinuses, too present to dismiss but not yet committed to climax. Don’t tease me, he begged with a slow blink. Either hurry up or go away.

“Omicron,” Delta said, a note of wonder in his voice. “I knew you were talented, but this exceeds expectations. Particularly with the knowledge that you did this while contending with unforeseen complications. Well done.”

His heart fluttered weakly at the praise and Omicron squashed any pleased feelings that arose from it. There would be nothing to celebrate if he couldn’t finish the job.

“Th.. hhagk you, sir.”

“When are you meeting them?”

“T-.. Tihh-..” As he spoke the tickle squiggled like a banner caught in a breeze. He rushed the rest on an exhale — “..t-t’mborrow nhhigh..” — heaved in a huge breath, and then- “IDTZSSH’hoo!!”

“Bless, tomorrow night, hm..” Delta rushed the blessing as well, rubbing his chin with a long sigh. “This does complicate things. I doubt we’ll get a chance like this again, but I’m not granting clearance until Dr. Voster takes a look at you-”

“ht-.. HD’JZSS!uuh..”

“-bless you, because that fever of yours concerns me. That side effect wasn’t listed in the literature and it surprised her to hear that you’ve developed one-”

“.. eh-.. eH’TSCHHOO!”

“-bless you. So better safe than sorry. Your health and safety takes priority over any assignment, Omicron, do try and remember tha-.. oh, bless…?”

“.. h-HDT-!”

Omicron waiting on the cusp of another, eyes rolled skyward and lips parted in desire, still cloaked behind his curtain of tissues. He could feel he had Delta’s undivided attention, which made the tickle shy. It shivered inside him, sending his nostrils into a fit of flaring. Stuttered breaths filled his lungs in tiny bursts, emptying again on uneasy sighs, and he-.. he-!..

.. relaxed, defeated, with a groan. 

“Lost it?” Delta asked, then quirked a smile at Omicron’s moody nose-blow. “I’m sure it’s very disappointing. My condolences.”

Because Delta was being very gracious about all this — Omicron’s dishonesty and careless sneezing — he couldn’t summon up any feelings of exasperation. It helped that he was running on empty, too enervated by his fever to do much more than slump with a nod that made his head gently spin. He waited it out and only when he startled to awareness at a gentle touch on his arm did he realize he’d been falling asleep where he sat. He squinted up at Delta who was now standing, smiling down at him.

“Dr. Voster asked me to collect more data on your condition, but that can wait,” he said, and hauled Omicron to his feet. He guided the smaller man toward the bright fluorescence of their hotel bathroom. “Why don’t you wash up? It might help.”

Too dazed to protest, Omicron stood shivering barefoot on the cold tile in his swim trunks while Delta babbled about this and that. A couple blinks later he was holding a set of sweats from his suitcase, his toiletry bag, and a clean pair of fuzzy socks that wasn’t his. Probably Delta’s. He’d seen the man wear a different pair around the room just last night. Juggling the items and mumbling thank-yous, he nudged the door shut with his foot as Delta stated he’d be going out to grab dinner.

And thus commenced his character assassination. 

Omicron laid to rest and mourned what remained of his dignity. He was, in essence, sick on the job with an unseemly cold and his boss was playing nurse. In other words, a nightmare. Never had any of his coworkers seen him T less than peak health, and he hadn’t bargained on Anita’s monster virus turning him into… this. As he shambled through a shower, pajamas, and then curled up into bed, he hoped in vain that his fever would be bad enough to knock him out before Delta got back. No such luck.

Omicron knew how he could look, especially with fresh, fluffy bedhead and sleeves that drooped over his hands. He could only assume this aesthetic was exacerbated by his glowing red nose and glassy eyes. ‘Cute’ was a moniker he’d take to his grave unfortunately, much as it haunted him. He’d never managed to escape it in any disguise, not for all the leather, fake piercings, or platform boots in the world. 

So when Agent Delta turned around and caught sight of him, snuggled in a poofy duvet clutching the tissue box with a little twitch troubling his nose, Omicron beat him to the punch. “Please don’t patronize me, sir.”

Delta’s smile threatened laughter, but he reigned it in with a polite cough and clear of his throat. “I wasn’t going to, agent. I’m just glad to see you’re more comfortable.”

‘Comfortable’ was a generous word that only got further from the truth as the night wore on. Omicron was treated to dinner in bed, complete with a serving tray borrowed from the staff, and the gesture was enough to obliterate any shred of appetite he had for the hot and sour soup Delta brought him. He just wanted to dissolve into the atmosphere and disappear. What he did manage to eat sprung tears in his eyes and a menacing prickle in his clogged sinuses. He spent most of the meal with a tissue held to flexing, leaky nostrils.

The conversation after dinner was yet another exercise in torture. Omicron would have tried choking down more soup if he’d remembered Delta had orders from Anita to question him about his ‘condition.’

Rationally, Omicron knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed. He had sex on the job now and then, and those wild whims he pursued on his personal time were a cure for boredom more than anything. There was something different about this though, the pleasure he felt from sneezing. It felt intimate, self-generated, and to some extent outside of his control. That he might accidentally get aroused without a purpose, beyond that it simply just felt good, was a thought he couldn’t bare to share with anyone. 

“I find it endearing that you are so bashful about this, considering your line of work,” Delta said, understanding yet undeterred, “but as this pertains directly to your ability to perform on the job, I’m afraid Voster and I are on a need to know basis. I promise it will be quick and painless.”

The unyielding furrow in Delta’s brow told Omicron he wouldn’t escape this discussion, no matter how badly he wanted to avoid it. Maybe by some miracle he’d black out and not remember it after.

Once they got started, the questions were mercifully clinical: How often are you experiencing unexpected symptoms? Under what circumstances do they arise? Are you experiencing any unexpected symptoms beyond those already identified? And so on. All the while, Omicron dissuaded sneezes with nose rubs, nose blows, and general nose abuse of that nature. Each ticklish surge that scrambled for a foothold he countered with equal obstinacy. Nothing he did would rid him of the itch, so there was no reason to indulge it.

Yes there is, said the steady drip of tension into his abdomen. Feel that? It was a formless need, faint enough to ignore. For now. Given time the drip would form a puddle, then a pond, and eventually an ocean of want churning in the core of him. And it will feel so good to let go. 

Omicron resolutely ignored that feeling. 

When they finished with the questions, he didn’t even realize it was over; he dozed off while Delta prattled on too long about meaningless things, his voice soothing in its familiarity, and awoke with a start minutes or hours later from a soft touch on his elbow. Just Delta, whispering something about acetaminophen, offering pills and a glass of water which Omicron tossed back wordlessly before hurtling headfirst back into sleep.

He surfaced in and out of consciousness throughout the night, plagued by chills, sweats, and the strange dreams only a fever can cook up. Vivid, nonsensical adventures that ranged from confusing to harrowing, until Omicron eventually found himself spelunking. How he ended up in this damp, drippy cavern eluded him, but he remained committed to his single directive: explore. 

It was an odd place, even in a dream. Rather than rough-hewn stone, Omicron walked barefoot on a soft, plush surface that spanned the walls and even the ceiling. Caves were usually quite chilly, but this one was comfortably warm. Steady breezes cut through the humidity, first blowing one way and then the other, ruffling Omicron’s hair at each pass. He staggered when a particularly strong gust dragged him like an undertow and leaned against the wall to keep his balance. This immediately backfired because the wall was unexpectedly slick. With a frictionless glide, he tumbled to the ground.

“Sheesh,” he muttered, planting his palms to push himself up. When he did so, there was a near imperceptible shudder through the cavern. The rhythmic wind stuttered, stopped, then continued with an unsteady edge. He raised arm against a blast of air. “What-..?”

A light caught his eye, and Omicron glanced down to find a nexus of thrumming veins spidering out from his epicenter. They pulsed with a beautiful glow, casting a red hue across his face and illuminating the cave floor with a pink, stained glass iridescence. Curious, he trailed his fingers along the branching paths and watched the veins spread further. Again the cave floor lurched, stronger this time, and the wind around him escalated into trembling, intermittent squalls. For some reason he didn’t feel afraid, only determined.

Omicron clamored to his feet. He approached the wall where the veins began to climb. They pulsed weakly, wanting, and he felt that he needed to help them. Feeling around on his person, he unearthed something from his back pocket: a feather duster. The feathers waved in the strong breeze, plentiful and downy. How he’d managed to fit this in his pocket was dream logic he didn’t question. 

“Let’s see,” he mumbled, and crouched to sweep the instrument along the wall. It seemed to cringe from the sensation, twitching madly as the veins hungrily advanced. 

Omicron kept it up, dusting as much as he could reach even as the cavern began to shiver in earnest and the wind whipped his hair like a storm. But he couldn’t stop. He just had this feeling that if he lit the cavern completely, it would be a magnificent sight. As the paths flourished, they brought with them a gorgeous backlight to the tender, rose-petal surfaces of the cave. Funny, they looked almost inflamed. Irritated by his influence, intolerant of his presence here. The thoughts didn’t deter him. Omicron raised up on his tiptoes to take a swipe at the ceiling and had his feet knocked out from under him when the world tremored in response. The gale sucked inward with authority, and the feather duster was ripped from his hands.

Something was happening. Around him, the veins fanned out on their own and he’d been right: the radiance of the cavern was incredible with it all lit up at once. Beneath him the ground throbbed contentiously, convulsing, hot to the touch, and for the first time, Omicron wondered if he might have done something he shouldn’t have. No longer distracted by his goal, he became aware of a weird sound. Something deep, rumbling beneath him, the desirous moans of uhh.. uHhh.. uHHh-!... growing in volume, pitch, and power. 

And suddenly, he felt the echo of this urge manifest in his nose. Its vigor sprung tears to his eyes and his jaw dropped open, helpless as it consumed him. His gasps and groans synced up to the wild chaos around him, and he could feel the very nerves he squirmed against crying out for mercy. It tickled insufferably, teased to heights he couldn’t believe — and there was only one way down.

I’m inside my own nose? was his first bizarre realization. The second was, I’m going to sneeze.

Omicron opened his eyes, only to snap them closed again. “-HP’BBSZZCHHHOOO!!!-”

He groaned, arching against the mattress, as the sneeze went straight to his dick. Bleary, barely awake, all he could do was coast through a yearning gasp and “HEEHDZJJSSSZH!Nnngghh-!”

Raw relief tingled through him, shimmering through his nose and groin, and autopilot took over. Omicron plunged a hand down his pants and gripped his morning wood, firm and ready to burst. There was enough precum trickling from his slit and staining his boxers that he could smooth his thumb over the head and ignore the slight burn from dry skin friction.

His nostrils flittered in anguish, and his sinuses drummed with an insatiable itch. Please, they implored him. This tickle tortured us all night long. Do something. And Omicron was happy to serve. 

A monumental gasp - “hHHHHIIH!��� - heralded an comparatively monstrous sneeze - “EEHDDZZZCHHH’Uh!!-hoohhh..”

This was so much better in bed. A tidal wave of pleasure rushed through him, from his nose to his toes, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He gritted his teeth, bowing his back as he thrust into the grip of his hand. It was just on the edge of too much; Omicron wasn’t normally so sensitive, but he’d woken with every inch of his skin tingling and thought it had to be the fever. 

The tickle flexed deep inside, and Omicron recalled the striking visuals of his dream. Wet, pink walls. Encroaching red veins. Sensitive nerves, shuddery membranes, the way he’d ignorantly worked himself up to this very fit with a bundle of soft, stroking feathers. He could imagine himself doing it again, deliberately this time, sweeping the inside of his nose deftly and thoroughly, tickling and tickling and fighting to keep his eyes open even as the sensation forced them tightly closed. Coaxing a hitching breath. Making him sn-..

“-hoh fuhhck-.. hh!HUH!. UHHZZSSSHH’iu!-ooh!” His heels slipped on the sheets, straining for purchase, as he panted his way up to another. “-igih.. iH’GISSCCHOOO!-hah!!”

Each one got him an inch closer to orgasm. He bobbed over every wave with surety the next one would break over his head and drown him. Omicron snuffled unsteadily, aware his nose was running without the care to wipe it, and began twisting his wrist when he felt his nostrils blow wide in preparation. 

Yes yes yes, he cheered. Let this be the one.

He hitched through a dazed smile, a deceptively dainty hh-hht-htt! that then curled him up with a bed-shaking, “HAH’TSSDCH’UE!..hh’mmngg-!..” 

Omicron’s whole body clenched, tense with the impending release, but before it could come he was hitching again. His dream self dusted away, dauntless with a single-mindedness to make him sneeze. And he’d assuredly succeed, as his real self shuddered through a fit-and-start buildup.

“-hihg..ihh!hhoh.. HHT-!chhhoo..” 

It wouldn’t come, hovering so close to the brink that whenever he breathed into the tickle he sighed out the approximation of its finale. His hand never stopped, the steady pumps easier now that he was wet enough. Through the haze of fever, grogginess, and arousal, Omicron imagined the dutiful brush of that duster against his quivering membranes. He was a thorough man, never one to leave a job half-finished, and he visualized himself venturing deeper, farther, to a cowering patch of nerves hoping to escape torment. The feathers caressed them, velutinous and inviting.

“.. iih!HHhhh..”

Deeper, to the responsive edge of his sinuses, where he trailed the duster along the border with deliberate care. The tickle’s magnitude tripled, aching in its eagerness. His dick pulsed in reply, hot and heavy in his frantic hand. 

“-HIH!..hh..hgIHH-”

Deeper still, to the end of the line, so far inside his nose he’d never hope to get it out. The feathers touched quivering flesh. With a smirk, his dream self stroked so gently, agonizingly slow, barely a tease and yet it tickled him to an unbearable degree. He could feel every fiber of the agitating feathers, the promise they whispered. 

Come on, he said to himself. You know you want to.

Omicron’s gasp cut the air like a knife, inflating his lungs to capacity, before he roared violently into his blankets. “-iihHHHHH-?!..WRRIZZSSSCHH’IIUHHH!!-mmbb!!”

He turned his head into his pillow to moan through his orgasm, stroking through it as a euphoric, tingling balm spread through his sinuses. It lasted longer than he anticipated, a continuous ripple of ecstasy that had him whimpering, panting, trembling. All his muscles relaxed, every part of him sated, and when the aftershocks ebbed Omicron sunk into the sheets, hand still in his pants, to let sleep call him back into its arms. It’s not like he had somewhere to be. What did he have to do this morning..? Vacuum the apartment..? Get groceries..? Cuddle with his cats?.............wait-

OH NO.

Omicron jackknifed into a sitting position, then immediately regretted it when his head spun. He drooped onto an elbow, coughing, heart hammering, and in a panic he scanned the room. Nobody here. No sounds from the bathroom either. The relief was so intense it sent him into another sickening dose of dizziness. He flopped flat to the mattress and tried to steady his breathing.

I didn’t just jack off in front of my superior officer, he assured himself. Everything is fine. He finally slipped his hand out of his pants and wrinkled his sore nose at the stickiness of his skin and underwear. But I have to clean up.

It took a pitifully long time to do so. Shivers wracked him the moment he crawled out of bed, and every step was a wobbly gamble. He forgot spare clothes and had to backtrack, then couldn’t figure out how to clean up without taking a shower he didn’t have the energy for. All the while his head pounded, his throat stung, and eventually the whims of the virus brought him to the brink of feeble, fallout sneezes.

Finally, with his dirty clothes stuffed into the bottom of his suitcase and most of the sweat wiped off his skin, Omicron zombied his way back to the bed and collapsed face down. Some flailing got him purchase on the sheets, mercifully spared from most of his fluids, and at last he was horizontal. Of course the position dutched the congestion to a new angle. It tickled him.

Omicron huffed weakly, wearily, and  ducked under the cover of his blankets. “-iih’KIZSSH!’iuh…” Only the one. He sighed, rubbing the edge of his sheet beneath his fussy nose. Now, maybe he could just….

From the door there was the sound of a keycard clattering, then the latch lifting, and a boisterous pair of voices entered the room. “Honey, I’m home!”

Omicron buried his head under the blankets.

“Anita, he may not be awake..” That one was Delta. “Shouldn’t he rest?”

“The sooner I examine him, the better. Where-?.. ah! There you are.”

Omicron tightened his grip on the blankets, and was right to do so because seconds later there was a tug from the outside. It was hot and stuffy under the covers, hard to breathe, but he’d rather suffocate than deal with Anita Voster right now. She tugged again and he didn’t budge.

“Oho?” she tittered. “Trying to avoid treatment, mm? You should know better, Agent O.”

He remained tense, blinking weakly against a flutterish niggle. His nostrils flared, nervous, and he would have soothed them with a touch of his finger if his hands weren’t occupied. He scrunched his nose instead, squirming it side to side when the tickle didn’t abate. Dr. Voster was on the move, he’d lost track of her-...

“Anddd.. voila!”

Cold air and light entered his cocoon. She’d rounded the bed and flipped the covers up from the back side, which was a dirty move. A chill swept up his spine, prompting a shudder that shivered into a sneeze. 

“h-hhi’hHTSSsh!-hh..” He flinched his knees to his chest, tucking an arm around himself as he threw the other behind him for the covers. “Gih-..ig’IIZSSH!��

“Bless bless you,” she cooed in a playful tone that made him bristle. Her hand cupped his shoulder and pulled. “Now, let me see… oh.”

Her smile dropped away as she looked at him, lips parting in genuine surprise, her manicured eyebrows marching up toward her hairline. She was wearing an obnoxious summery ensemble, no doubt excited to exploit the mission for a few days at the beach. When no reply was forthcoming, Omicron glared at her. The ferocity of it was undercut when a twinge in his nose prompted a squeaky sniffle.

“.. Whad?” he croaked.

“You’ve never looked so pathetic before,” she said in wonder. “And I’ve seen you faint after getting a vaccine booster.”

It was an open secret that he hated injections as much as he hated the dentist, but everyone kindly agreed not to acknowledge it after that one time. He growled his words, snatching the blankets back from her. “The ndeedle was really big and you said you’d dnever mbendtion it againd.”

“Voster,” chided Delta, hands on his hips. “Please refrain from teasing him when he’s not feeling well. He’s under enough stress as it is.”

As infantilizing as it was as a grown man to have another grown man scold somebody on his behalf, Omicron shot her a smug look that she met with an arched brow. 

“Fine,” she sighed, and crossed to his side of the bed. “I guess I’ll cut him some slack. Omicron, sit up a little.”

There would be no getting out of this. Delaying the process would probably get him another lecture from Delta, so Omicron reluctantly shimmied to a half-reclining position, arms crossed to ward off chills as she sat gracefully on his bedside. She crossed a leg at the knee, reached for his face, and cool hands cradled his jaw. He let her move him as she wanted, wrinkling and wriggling his nose to keep it appeased. 

The sly bullying he expected didn’t come. Dr. Voster was professional when she asked, “Any fluctuations in symptoms since last night?”

“Umb.. ndot really..” Omicron sniffed sharply and swallowed. He considered leaving it there, but his promise to Delta wouldn’t let him. He mumbled through the rest and could only hope she understood what it meant. “.. there was an.. idncident this mborning. That I resolved.”

“Gotcha,” she said, and didn’t press. Omicron relaxed under her handling. She took his temperature (101.3°F / 38.5°C), tested his glands, pulled down the edges of his eyelids, and then at last took a cursory glance up his nostrils with a wince. “I didn’t think it was possible to see a sneeze but the inside of your nose looks like one.”

Apt, since he could feel it forming between his eyes. He leaned away out of her grip, and without any tissues in reach, Omicron shook his sleeves over his hands and tucked into them. “hh!MMPSSH!..” 

“Bless you,” chorused the other two. 

He surfaced briefly as the tickle toyed with him, playing his nerves like batons on a xylophone. Every note vibrated, compounding in harmony, cacophonous as it crested, “..aak’KZSCHue!.. hh?..hh..”

“Bless you,” chorused the other two, again. Anita passed over the tissue box but he could barely keep his eyes open and his breath from shaking. She took pity on him as his hitches became jagged, pitching in his upper register, and she held out a few in his direction just as he- heeee-!

“-ick’SSHIEW?!”

It relieved him, but his shoulders flinched to his ears at the embarrassingly high sound. Delta quickly turned away with a hand to his mouth and Dr. Voster snorted unabashedly.

“Bless yew!” she parroted, and he kicked her off the bed. She rolled with the momentum into a smooth dismount before plopping right back where she’d been. “I’m done, I’m done! But you owe me a couple free jabs after yelling at me yesterday, you know.”

Right. His stomach soured at the reminder, and he stared at the blankets with a sleeved swipe under his septum. “.. I’mb sorry about that. I shouldn’d have taken out my frustration on you. Or lied to you in the first place.”

Dr. Voster softened, the lines of her face smoothing into something genuine. “Mm, I’m sorry for my sloppy science. It’s my fault you’ve got such a lousy cold.” 

Omicron never knew what to say after such sentiments. He considered and tossed out several replies, still boring holes into the blankets with his gaze, until she reached up and flicked the tip of his nose. His inhale was a hitch into the next before he flinched down toward his chest. 

“h-h-H’TZssh!” He brought a sleeve to his nose belatedly, throwing a scowl her way. “Whad was that for?!”

“For lying to me about that other thing,” she said, leering over him with a grin. “... Seems like you really are the man-cold type.”

Omicron hurled his pillow at her, which she dodged and Delta caught one-handed when it soared across the room. His firm voice broke up a squabble before it could begin. “Enough, you two.” He fluffed the pillow and returned it to his sheepish subordinate before looking to Anita. “Well?”

“Either his immune system is reacting to the engineered virus, or somehow he’s caught another cold on top of this one,” she said. Both looked to Omicron, who was trying to blow his nose without popping an eardrum. “If it’s the former, the mission can proceed. If it’s the latter, we bench him. That’s my opinion as his physician.”

“I’b righd here,” Omicron grumbled behind a mask of tissues.

Delta ignored him. “How do we know which is the case?”

Dr. Voster reached for the medical bag on the floor by her feet, which Omicron only just now noticed was in her possession. “By administering a test,” she replied, digging through it. When she found what she sought, Anita presented it to Omicron with an apologetic smile. “You’re not going to like it though.”

He thought it was a syringe at first. Before he could react, she peeled open the thin package to show him what was inside. Somehow, it was worse. Delta hissed through his teeth and Omicron hovered a protective hand over his nose.

“No,” he told her, eyes glued to the offending object. “No, no. That’s not going to work.”

Dr. Voster twirled it between her fingers: a wickedly long plastic rod with a cotton tuft on the end. “A nasal swab is the fastest way, O.”

He shook his head, unable to look away from it. The sight alone caused his nose grief as the tickle found inspiration. Omicron did his best not to imagine how it would feel. “Anita, it’s not possible. I-.. I can’t evehhn.. look at- at it withhou..HH!with.. withhHHAH-”

Omicron jammed a finger beneath his nose and shoved the sneeze back inside. He could tell he’d be on a roll if he started, and while he’d literally just cum he was terrified this impending volley would get him going again. If at all possible, even if everyone was aware of the situation, he’d like to avoid erections in front of his fucking coworkers. He held his breath and waited until his pulsing nostrils quieted before letting it all go on a sigh. Pointedly, he avoided looking at the swab.

“Hmmmm,” Dr. Voster mused. “I wonder if we blindfolded you..”

“Trust me,” he said, knuckling his nose. It wasn’t happy he’d ignored its demands. “That’s not going to help.”

“Rather than hold them back, could you try holding them in?” Delta suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Voster said. “He’s terrible at it, and I wouldn’t recommend it anyway. Not everyone can be as proficient at stifling as you are, sir.”

Delta’s smile weakened, properly chastised, as Voster tilted her head back and pressed her palms on the bed. Her leg bounced in thought. The three of them sat in a contemplative silence broken only by Omicron’s sniffling before Anita slapped her hands to her knees and stood with purpose.

“There’s nothing for it,” she said. “You’ll just have to avoid sneezing.”

“I won’t be able to,” he told her. His cheeks flushed, and the flash of heat mingling with his fever made him tremble with a chill. Stubbornness alone wouldn’t deter her, so he forced out the rest with emphasis. “And it-.. might cause an unexpected symptom.”

That gave her pause, but only briefly. “When exactly did you last experience the culmination of this symptom?”

This was embarrassing. “... approximately ten minutes before you arrived.”

“And would you expect yourself to experience that again so quickly after the last occurance?”

Somehow, he felt miffed on behalf of his refractory period. “.... I guess not.”

“Then even if you sneeze your head off after this, you’ll be fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If for some reason you’re not, it’s not a big deal. Agent Delta and I will just leave the room until it passes.”

I’d rather chew glass, Omicron thought, than have it come to that. The tickle nestled comfortably against his nerves, weighing his eyelids and prompting a reflexive sniffle. Cheeky bastard. He wouldn’t let it win this time. He grated the rough edge of his sleeve under his nostrils and squared his shoulders.

“Fine.” His flinty gaze locked onto the swab, his opponent in this battle. “Let’s do it.”

The other two exchanged a LookTM and preparation shortly followed. Delta announced he’d received a message from cyber security earlier that morning that required follow up, so he left to wire into the agency’s VPN in one of the hotel’s private conference booths. Voster snapped on some gloves and cracked open a fresh tissue box to place at Omicron’s elbow. He begrudgingly unearthed a wad of them to keep ready in his lap. Better safe than sorry.

Anita watched him carefully. “Would you like to get a few out before we start?”

If she was asking, he probably looked sneezy already. Omicron made an effort to sharpen his gaze and settle the tiny, twitching microexpressions that told plainly of a persistent tickle. “No. I want to get it over with.” He sniffled with a flutter of his nostrils. “Quickly.”

To her credit, Anita didn’t dawdle. “I’m administering a nasopharyngeal swab for the best results. If I can’t get enough from one sample, we’ll have to do the other nostril.”

Omicron nodded, tilting his chin when she stabilized him with a hand to his cheek. He blinked hard against a lurching itch as the swab came closer, hovering just in front of his flushed, prone nose.

“I need to rotate it for ten seconds, and then I’ll slowly remove it,” she told him. “Would it help if I counted?”

He flicked his gaze to the ceiling, hands fisted in the sheets over his lap. “Yes.”

“Alright, the count won’t start until I have it in place.” Dr. Voster eased his head back further, giving him a moment to arrange himself against his pillows before she touched the swab to the edge of one nostril. It pulsed, uncertain. “Here we go.”

This wasn’t Omicron’s first time with this particular type of swab. Normally he preferred it because of how deep it reached, so foreign and uncomfortable that a sneeze never crossed his mind. It was the shorter swabs, the ones that remained inside the borders of his persnickety nasal membranes that caused him agony. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he feared? 

A second later that confidence was swiftly and callously dashed.

This cold was unlike any respiratory infection he’d ever had. It was engineered to inflame every cell of his airways, heighten them to such a state of paranoia that the very act of breathing registered as intrusive. This tickle wasn’t a physical thing; his nasal cavity was affected by such sensitivity that it inevitably itched and twitched and worked itself up into mayhem. Sneeze was the answer to every problem, even nonexistent ones. So to have himself in this state and introduce a material object into the mix was an instant and powerful regret.

The swab burned as it was threaded through his sinuses, razing his nerves as it went, and when the tip of it touched the back of his throat he could feel every millimeter of its length. He slammed his eyes shut. There was a brief moment of shock, as if his nose couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Then the swab began to spin.

His nostrils flew wide. “HHHHHHHH-”

“Shit,” muttered Voster. “Stay with me, c’mon, it’s just ten seconds.. Two….”

Just?! his brain screamed, overwhelmed by nasal panic and frantic to sneeze. Oh, he could feel it. An instant and oppressive demand. None of the usual hitching hesitation, just a massive and mandatory release sitting at the shores of his dilated nostrils. He couldn’t even communicate to Voster that it was coming. 

“.. Three, fight it…”

Omicron pinched himself as hard as he dared by digging his thumb into the pressure point of his other hand. It took the edge off the swab’s insidious stimulation and downgraded the sneeze from automatic to imminent. Lungs at capacity, all the air sat at the top. His body wouldn’t let him exhale without irritation-induced force. A pitiful sound escaped, heady and weak without breath behind it.

“-uuhh-”

“I know, we’re halfway, hang in there.. Six..”

God, this was torture. His nose throbbed with need, the insides puffy and convulsing. Please, they cried. It tickles so badly. Too much. We have to! He hovered just on the verge of the inevitable. Grinding harder into the pressure point on his hand dampened the sensation enough to keep it from progressing, but it never diminished. Just waited an inch from the finish line. Another high, helpless whimper trembled his chest.

“-huUH!-”

“Eight.. you’re doing great, Omicron, nine..” The hand on his cheek shifted to brace him firmly. “.. almost done, try to exhale..”

He couldn’t. His lungs wouldn’t let go. All he could do was live on the brink, tears skating down his cheeks and his features frozen in what he knew had to be a ridiculous face. Yearning or dreading, he didn’t know, but his entire expression flinched when the swab retreated. She was slowly pulling it out, still twirling it. He could feel the thin ropes of his control snapping, the dam crumbling, the glass shattering. An urgent, breathy shout slipped out, pure desperation, and it heralded something enormous.

“-HUUHH--!!!”

The swab slithered out of his nose completely, leaving behind a trail of unbearable sensation. “Okay! Y-”

“--HHEZZSSCCCHHHHUUUEE-!” Omicron hurled himself over his own lap, dizzied by the release, and gasped immediately for more. “-hH-HH!IIHZSSSSHH’UUh!!”

More. “-HH’AADZZSSCHH’HOO-!!”

More. “-HEH’DTSSHHH’HAH-!!”

More still. “ohh-.. HD’DIZZSHHHH’HUH!!”

But the relief wouldn’t come. His nose was so angry by the intrusion, it would give no quarter. Big, heaving sneezes weren’t doing the job, so he found himself next encumbered by small ones. They burst out of him in a row, each igniting a furious itch to prompt the next.

“ihDSH!-.. hck’ISSH!.. uh-HH’TZIshh!.. ugh, god-hHIH!” Omicron fought his eyes open through another gush of tears and caught a blurry glimpse of white. Oh right, the tissues. He gathered them up as his gaze rolled skyward, mouth agape and nostrils vast. It took a couple hitches before the tickle caught again. “h-hHT.. idzz..iiH!..mgh.. aH!KZSSCHH!”

He sneezed through his teeth, then belatedly raised the tissues. His eyes fluttered closed as even the soft touch of them pried another sneeze loose. They mounted in power as his nose, fed up with the lingering tickle the swab left behind, puppeteered him through an increasingly vicious fit.

“-h’ETZsh!... huh.. TZSSCH!ue… h-H!...EHPZSH’Iu!!-oohh..”

At last, a wave of pleasure rushed through his veins. It was faint, but after the hellish holdback and punishing sneezes, Omicron welcomed it. The knowledge there would be more spurred him onward; he breathed into the next ticklish swell with hope.

“uh-HHUH-HESZSCHUUE!” Cool prickles swept through his nose, soothing the frazzled nerves even as they clamored for another. Omicron complied. “heh.. HET’JZZSSSCHHOOO!-nngh..”

He shivered as his skin erupted with goosebumps. A warm, wonderful feeling unfurled in his gut. Head spinning, nose twitching, lungs hitching, he knew the end was close. He breathed deeply, relishing the way it tickled all the way down. Then-

“HEH…uh.. hHP’BIZSSSHHIEW!!-oooohhhh..”

Omicron massaged his nose through the tissues with quiet noises of relief until somebody clearing their throat caught his attention. With wet eyes, he raised his head to see Dr. Voster across the room mixing the swab in a vial with some sort of solution. She kept her attention on it as she spoke.

“Feeling better?”

He paused to cough and swallow. The fit left him raspy. “Yeah.”

“Any unexpected symptoms?” she asked. Fuzzy headed, Omicron looked down at his crotch. There was no tent under the covers, and while he felt boneless, he wasn’t turned on.

“Ndo.”

“Great!” Dr. Voster chirped. “In other good news, I got enough particulate matter on the first try that we won’t have to do it again.” She continued her work, but glanced over to shoot him a smile. “Bless you a dozen, by the way.”

“Thagks,” he huffed, then collapsed back onto the mattress with the solace of a job finished. 

It took a few minutes for him to clean himself up, and as he got his wits about him, he was appreciative that Voster kept herself busy so he could tend to his nose without scrutiny. His pleasant haze dissipated and Omicron realized he was totally spent. His head hurt, as did his throat, and his abs were aching. Once he was huddled under the covers, Anita swung by with a bottle of water and hushed instructions to take another fever reducer, which he did without complaint.

Some time passed. He didn’t know how much. One moment he was nodding off to the tinkling the whirs of Voster’s on-the-go mini-laboratory, and the next he was startling awake to a door opening. For a split second he forgot where he was, what was happening, but then a hand smoothed over his hair. 

“Just Delta,” came Anita’s voice. Tension left his sore muscles and he melted back into the mattress. For once his nose took pity on him, smoldering with a widespread ticklish sensation he could chase away by pinch-rubbing the sides of his nostrils.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to wake you!” was Delta’s contrite greeting. Omicron cracked open dry eyes to see the man coming around the bedside, eyebrows turned up in dismay. “Sorry, Omicron.”

“S’fide,” he replied, voice creaking, and he had to turn his head into the pillow to cough. Fuck, felt like he’d swallowed a sword and left it there.

“Goodness, you sound terrible.” Delta turned anxious eyes to Dr. Voster, who was leaning a hip against her makeshift workstation at the desk by their balcony doors. “Did you get the results?”

“Yep,” she said, cheerfully brandishing the culture sample. “No secondary infection. He’s just having a pronounced immune response to the engineered strain.” Here, she smirked at the Omicron-shaped lump on the bed. “And being very dramatic about it.”

Delta caught the pillow lobbed in her direction before it could knock any lab equipment over. He arranged it back on the bed, then passed his hand over Omicron’s brow. The smaller man let him, closing his eyes as the cool touch moved to his cheek, to his neck, then glided to his shoulder to offer a reassuring pat.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Please be honest.”

Omicron thought of the mission. It didn’t escape him that Dr. Voster confirmed he wasn’t actually sick. His body thought he was, but with proper symptom management he could see this assignment to the end. Josaline would probably love seeing him like this; hopefully her husband would too. 

“Ndot great,” he admitted, and Delta’s puppy-dog expression ramped up tenfold. Omicron rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. “I’b ndot dying, sir. If I get someb rest, I’ll be ready for tomborrow.”

The fact that he’d said all this without even sitting up likely undercut his claims, but Omicron truly believed it. When the time came, he’d rally. He always did. Delta considered him for a long moment before plopping down onto the other bed with a dejected bounce.

“Even if that’s the case, the situation has changed,” he said, lacing his fingers together between his knees. “I got word from Ops that there were attempted hacks into multiple independent identification networks for a ‘Nicolas Foster.’”

Omicron struggled up onto his elbows. 

.. So, they were onto him. At the very least, they were wary of his cover. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. At the agency they explored every outcome, including this one. Josaline Jewel was a suspected cyber criminal. She was rich enough, powerful enough, smart enough to avoid the law. They’d chased her for years. This outcome wasn’t unexpected, but it still ripped a hole through Omicron’s sails.

All this work, he thought, blinking away a sting behind his eyes. For nothing? Because I wasn’t good enough?

“Don’t despair,” Delta commanded. “The hacks left traces and the cyber team is on it. It’s possible they’ll identify a source, and if they do, we can hack them back. This is a victory.”

It didn’t feel like one. Omicron slouched against the headboard, sniffling and sniffling as he compartmentalized any emotions he felt on the matter. Hopefully the others would attribute it to his cold. He nodded at Delta’s words, casting around for his tissue box. He’d knocked it off the bed at some point. Anita silently fetched it from the floor. 

“Intel also shows that they have not left the resort,” Delta continued, gaze glued to Omicron as the man piled tissues under his nostrils. “This suggests they either found nothing dubious in your cover, which I doubt, or…” 

Here, Delta paused and gave his subordinate a little ‘go on’ wave. Omicron flushed, but did as he was told. One big, trembling breath and then a gurgling nose blow. As always, it was much louder than he wanted and yet again he asked himself what unspeakable deed he’d done to deserve this level of karmic retribution. His nose didn’t feel refreshed afterward; rather, it was peeved. He wrinkled the bridge against a dull, undulating tickle.

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or.. they know you’re not who you say you are, but want to meet with you anyway.”

.. Could they be that horny? Omicron mused, swatching the length of his forefinger back and forth beneath restless nostrils. He recalled his time with Josaline by the pool. Yes, probably.

Sniffling, he asked, “Does this chhh..change anything?” 

“They didn’t hack our network directly, so they have no idea what your true identity is or who you work for,” Delta said. “But the nature of the encounter will be unpredictable.”

Red-rimmed eyes tightened at the corners and he gave up on the finger method in favor of tissues. He spoke as he gathered them, his voice wavering into breathier territory as the tickle took shape.

“I c-.. cahhn.. hh..handle unpredict-t.. tahbBBZZSH!” He caught it one handed, not bothering to open his eyes as he lowered the tissues just enough to continue as he contended with an encore. “.. I can handle that.. hhah..” A sharp sniffle. “.. but I doubt they’d t-.. they’d tehh.. hih!PPZSH’uh!.. nguh, tell mbe adythi’g..”

“Well about that, bless you, we need them occupied and away from electronics if we attempt a hack.”

Omicron squinted over his tissues. “So I’d be..”

“A distraction, yes.”

The original mission was to extract incriminating information from the target, but considering the new variables at play, this new directive would be just as effective. Honestly, with this cold, Omicron wasn’t sure he could finesse a subtle interrogation with stellar results. Acting as smoke and mirrors for the cyber team, however.. 

“..hh!uhh.. hHT-”

That, he could definitely do.

“-DZSSh’oo!”

/tbc!

Next up, the big date!! ♨️ Apologies to anyone who was hoping for the threesome this chapter 😅 Had to indulge my rabid desire for hurt/comfort lol. A big huge thank you to anyone reading who’s stuck around!! My next update might be a little slow because of work stuff, but hoping to have it up in a decent time frame. See you soon! 🥰

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Stranger On The Rooftop (1/?)

Apparently I came up with this scenario one night when I was feeling anxious and paranoid. To be fair my bed was right next to our attic and had a full length mirror on it so I blame it on that, lol.

I did do some heavy editing on this fic because I'm working on trying to connect all my oc's to one singular universe.

Anyway hope you enjoy this, if anyone is reading these. XD

It was late. 

The moon was high in the sky, and most reasonable people were asleep, but not Tyler. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, finishing up a research paper he’d procrastinated til the last minute. He didn’t mind, though, there wasn’t anywhere for him to be tomorrow and he’d always been more of a Night Owl.

Still, he tried to stay quiet since he knew his roommate, Beck, was sleeping in the next room. The only sound was the faint clicking of his fingers on the keyboard. Tyler paused in his typing momentarily, eyes glued to the screen as he looked over his paper, reading it over and correcting any errors he found. When a sound outside his window startled him.

It was just a creak; the building they lived in was old, after all, but he couldn’t quite calm the building anxiety in his chest.

So he listened quietly, just for a moment, and when he didn’t hear anything else, he figured his ears were just playing tricks on him. But just as he was getting settled back in, someone coughed. He tried to convince himself that it was probably just someone down on the street below, but it sounded too close for that. The hairs on his arms prickled with nervous energy as he slowly got to his feet.

Slowly, he approached the window, hoping to calm his nerves a bit, peering out into the darkness. Not seeing anything as his eyes sweep across the rooftop. Then, he saw the silhouette of something large and dark on his rooftop. It takes it shifting to realize that it’s a person. Someone was on his roof. Tyler squeaked, ducking down and out of view. His heart was thumping in his chest as he hoped whoever it was hadn’t seen him. Then something started tapping against his window. He held his breath, hoping that if he stayed quiet, they would just go away, but whoever it was seemed determined to get a response, so they tapped even louder. “Cobe od dude, I dow you're id there…” He heard someone call out muffled by the glass separating them. Tyler could swear he heard a slight croak in their voice. “What do you want!?” Tyler called out, still not budging from his spot, eyes darting towards his door, still worried about waking his roommate. Even though this seemed as good a reason as any to wake him. “Nothigg…” The voice said, “I just saw you peekigg out add thought you were kidd of cute…” “…I’m calling the cops.” Tyler said, crawling over to his bed to grab his phone. Still wanting to go unseen by this mysterious stranger. “No wait dod't do that please!”

Tyler hesitated, hearing the desperation in the stranger's voice. He slowly got up off the floor, staring out his window, the man shrowded in darkness so he couldn’t see his face. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t…”He answered, unsure why he was giving the stranger on his roof a chance to explain himself. “Uhb...because I'b so charbigg?” He said, and Tyler picked up his phone, “ Okay, wait uhb so were these guys botherigg this girl, well I stepped id add she wedt ode way I wedt the other, add well…I guess you dow who they followed.” “That doesn’t explain why you’re on my roof.” Tyler squawked, starting to get impatient with this guy's rambling. He should call the police and get it over with. “Oh that, I clibbed your tree add hopped od your roof,” He answered, as if it should be obvious, “I was goigg to wait it out udtil I was sure they were gode, add well you showed up add I guess here we are?” Tyler narrowed his eyes but put his phone down, and the man sighed, relieved. “Look, you dod’t deed to worry about lettigg be id or adythigg I was just hopigg to chill od your roof for a bit if that’s okay, I wod't bother you or adythigg.” He thought about it before nodding, figuring there wasn’t any harm in letting the man hang out for a bit. Still, Tyler kept his phone nearby just in case. The man’s silhouette disappeared from his window as Tyler settled back into his bed, trying to immerse himself back in his work. The soft pitter of rain outside his only distraction. He tried not to think about the man sitting in his room, but his thoughts drifted to him as the rain started to pick up. Tyler hoped he’d done the smart thing and gone home. “Hiih’YISCHHI!” The sudden noise startled him, answering his question. It took a second expulsion to realize that it had been a sneeze. He chewed his lip, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. For all intents and purposes, this man was a stranger…but he also didn’t want a stranger to freeze to death out on his roof. “Hiih’YISHhiew!…gn.”

Tyler sighed, getting up and padding over to the window, opening it, and for the first time that night, he finally got a good look at his mystery intruder. He certainly didn’t look very threatening. The guy was on the taller side, probably taller than himself, but he was lanky and spindly like a bean pole.

Tyler couldn’t be sure what color the man’s hair was, but it was well past his chin and plastered to his head with rainwater. “Do you promise you’re not, like, some psycho killer?” Tyler asked, startling the man. “…What?” He said, and Tyler groaned, rolling his eyes. “Just get in here.” Tyler told him, watching his eyes widen as he scrambled to his feet, squeezing through his narrow window inside. 

Now, inside, he looked a bit like a drowned rat. He was tall, like really tall. The jeans he was wearing were at least an inch too short for his long legs, and he was wearing a thin jean jacket over a ratty t-shirt. The knee on his jeans was torn, and he was also missing his left shoe. Despite all his gangly awkwardness, there was no doubt that he was an attractive man. 

“Thagks, by dabe is Nick, by the way.” He said, sticking out his hand to Tyler, a crooked grin on his face as he noticed a small scar on his lip.

Tyler’s face flushed as he took the other man’s hand mechanically, shaking it. “Uhm, Tyler, let me get you a towel you must be freezing.” “Okay, I’ll just wait here, I guess…” Nick said, standing awkwardly in the middle of Tyler's room while the other boy ducked out of the room. He went to their shared bathroom, relieved to see that Beck hadn’t been woken by the commotion, but his roommate also slept like the dead. Tyler tossed the towels at Nick, going over to his dresser and digging around.

He hoped he had something that would fit Nick since the other man was significantly taller than he was. Eventually, he unearthed an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of sweats left over from his ex. Nick was doing his best to dry off when he saw the clothes in Tyler's arms. “Uhm, you don’t have to I know I’m intruding, and it’s late, I should probably just go.” He said, tumbling over his words as Tyler pushed the clothes into his arms. “Dude, it’s like midnight, and you walked here. Take the damn clothes and try not to wake up my roommate.” Tyler ushered him to their bathroom.

Then he went back to his bedroom to give the man a moment of privacy to change. He flopped back onto his bed, not sure what compelled him to let a stranger into their home, but he was here, and Tyler would have to deal with it. Sitting up, he grabbed his laptop, waiting for the other man. ~ The door opened with a soft click, and Tyler lifted his gaze. “Huh’hhiIHYISSsh!” In time to see, Nick snap in half with a brutal sneeze, looking dazed in the aftermath as he pawed at his nose irritably. At least he wasn’t dripping all over his carpet anymore, significantly drier than when he’d gotten here. It gave him a better look at his hair, an unruly nest of dark hair on top of his head. “Make yourself comfortable…”Tyler told him, gesturing to his room, and Nick stood there, looking out of place. Tentatively he crossed the room, before sitting stiffy on his window seat. Tyler tried to work on his homework after that, but Nick wasn’t making it easy. The man was trying to be quiet, he really was, but every once in a while, he’d punctuate the silence with a liquid sniffle or irritated half-cough. It was distracting. “There’s tissue on my desk.” Tyler said, hearing the other man shuffle over to his desk.  He heard him tear a couple of tissues from the box, going to sit back down. He glanced up, wincing when he saw the other man. Nick had attempted to make himself comfortable lying down, but he was too tall for the cushioned window seat. An awkward mess of bent limbs that were sure to make his body ache. He shouldn’t feel bad; it wasn’t like he was expecting to have a guest tonight. Still, he slid off the bed, padding over to the other man in his sock-clad feet, standing there awkwardly as he searched for the right words. “You should take a picture it’ll last logger.” Nick mumbled, cracking open an eye with a cheeky grin. Tyler was sure his face flushed a brilliant shade of red. “You can take the bed if you want.” He blurted out, “I mean, it’s probably more comfortable than trying to cram yourself into the window seat.”

Nick looked at the bed longingly, but he still looked hesitant. “I cad’t take your bed, dude…” “It’s fine, I’m probably going to be up late working on homework anyway, so just swap places with me.” Tyler explained, but still, Nick didn’t budge. “Take the bed, please. You’re making me feel guilty just watching you.” Nick sighed, stumbling to his feet as he walked over to Tyler’s bed flopping down on the mattress with a contented noise. Tyler sat on the window seat, contentedly as he got back to doing his homework. ~

It was around two in the morning when Tyler finally finished up with his homework. He stood up stretching the sore muscles in his back, noticing that the rain had finally stopped outside. 

Walking over to his bed, he stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting about his unexpected guest. Nick curled up on top of his covers, his mouth hung open slightly as he snored. It didn’t seem like he’d be waking up any time soon.

Tyler considered going back to the window seat for a moment. Instead, he went to his closet, digging out a blanket before carefully crawling into bed, too tired to care that he was sharing it with a stranger.

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Disaster Control (2/2)

Here's the second part if anyone's interested, lol. I know it kind of ends abruptly but I wasn't quiet sure how to finish it. Figured I'd leave it open ended just in case I was inspired to add another part but for now this is where I'll leave off with it. Part One Mark woke up to someone shaking him gently. He didn't remember falling asleep, but his mouth was dry and tasted bad. As he sat up, the world swam around him. When his vision cleared, Molly's familiar freckled face came into view. She looked worried; her nose was all crinkled up, and her brow was furrowed. It was kind of cute, but he felt bad about worrying her.

Molly smiled at him, and his heart stuttered in his chest as she brushed his sweat-soaked bangs away from his face. Her hand felt cool, and it took him too long to figure out that she was saying something. “Let’s get you home, love.” Is all he caught as she took his hand, pulling him up onto his feet. The congestion shifts in his head when he gets up, and the world tilts as he stumbles, trying to steady himself. Molly’s arm came around his waist to support him. When his head cleared, he could feel his sinuses prickle. He wrinkled his nose, feeling his chest heave with wheezing, stuttering breaths. “Hihh-“ His breath hitched, it felt like torture as the tickle rolled through his nose slow, as molasses, making it run and his eyes water. ‘Hhh’ihh…HUHh’TZzshuuh!” Mark sneezed harshly, bringing his hands up a second too late to cover, feeling something soft envelope his nose. Without opening his eyes, he blows as gentle hands pinch and wipe away the mess. “Poor thing…”Molly mumbles, and he registers somewhere in his brain that he should be embarrassed, but he’s just…too tired. Carefully, she leads him outside, and he whines, bringing a loose fist up to scrub at his cherry-red nose with a burbling sniff. He could tell his allergy meds had worn off, the pollen wafting through the warm afternoon air, assaulting his miserable sinuses’. “I know we’re almost there…”Molly cooed sympathetically, picking up the pace a little. She hurried him into her beat-up little Subaru, keeping the windows rolled up and blasting the air conditioning but the damage had been done. “Tissues are in the glove box.” She told him, watching him fumble blindly for a moment through hitching breaths. It was painful to watch, so she reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out the pack of tissues for him. He tore into them as soon as they were in his hand, but Mark couldn’t get them up to his face quickly enough before the first sneeze tore out of him. “Hih’HIH’TZZSshuuh!” He tore the tissue from its plastic prison, mouth still agape, as he hesitantly brought it up to cover the rest of the fit.

“Hh’Hih’TSSchuu! ‘TSscht! ‘TScht! HUH’HASSCchuu!…ng.” Mark flopped back against her passenger seat, the tissue still covering the lower half of his face while he caught his breath. Eventually, he mustered the energy to sit up and blow his nose. “Bless you.” Molly offered as he rubbed his forehead, a headache starting to bloom behind his eyes. “Thagks…”He croaked, leaning back against her passenger seat, letting his too-warm face press against the cool glass of her car window. It felt good as he let his tired eyes slide closed, feeling her car pull out of the parking space. ~ It took a minute for Molly to find Mark’s apartment complex. They’d only talked about it a handful of times, so she had to wrack her brain to remember where it was, but now she had a whole new problem.

She had no idea which apartment number was his. So she parked her car before peeking over at the man snoring away in her passenger seat, her heart melting at the sight. Mark’s mouth hung open as he snored, no air getting through his blocked sinuses Mark’s mouth hung up as he snored, no air getting through his blocked sinuses, and he was drooling slightly. He was quite cute, even as a snoring, snotty mess. Molly was reluctant to wake him, but she needed to get him to bed. She shook his shoulder softly to wake him up, and he snorted, sitting up coughing. 

Molly rubbed his back as the fit ran its course, leaving him exhausted and wheezing by the end of it. She got out, ducking around to the passenger side helping out, and together, they went to his apartment.

Thankful that he was coherent enough to tell her which one was his. He fumbled with the keys, hands trembling so much he couldn’t get them into the lock, so she took them from his hand, opening the door. When they got to his bedroom, he flopped face down on his bed with a groan. The most she managed was getting his shoes off before he was snoring again. Standing back to observe him with a snort. He truly was a mess. She wasn’t sure where to go from here. It felt weird being in his apartment while he slept, already feeling like she’d overstepped. Molly stepped back out into his living area, going to the small kitchenette. She made him a mug of tea and dug out some cold medicine that luckily didn’t seem to be expired yet. Leaving them out on the nightstand along with a note letting Mark know to call her when he woke up and to let her know if he needed anything before quietly exiting his apartment.

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My OC's (2/2)

This is Beck Watkins, Tyler's roommate and best friend.

Beck's also fairly tall and lean but not quiet as tall and lean as Nicholas.

He also appears shorter because a lot of the time he slouches, like he's trying to make himself smaller. Unlike Tyler, Beck is meticulously organized. Everything has a place, and he even keeps a planner to write things down in before he puts them in on the schedule of his phone.

He does his best to keep his friends lives in order.

This is boyfriend Caleb Fisher, who is like a big ol' golden retriever.

Caleb works as a life guard at local beach nearby, and somehow manages to leave sand wherever he goes. He's a bit shorter than Beck but not by much, especially when Beck slouches. The poor boy also has wicked allergies during the summer, but he doesn't let that stop him from having fun.

Their Heights for comparison.

This is Layla Morrison. Beck's other friend and confidant, and is like the coolest person ever. She'd alway encouraging Beck and trying push him outside his comfort zone.

She's just all around a great person.

This her girlfriend Alice Perham from Disaster Control.

She can be pretty cheeky, teasing her friends for their crushes while she herself is clearly height of maturity as she's already in a relationship.

She's a loyal friend though and is alway there when they need someone to lean on.

I'll have to write fic with these two in the future I'm kind of in love with my lesbian girlies.

Here's their height comparison.

And here's all their heights next to eachother from tallest to shortest.

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My OC's (1/2)

Since my artistic skill is a bit lacking I've take to picrew to design my Oc's. Here's the Picrew I used for anyone that's interested.

This is Molly Williams, my waitress Oc, from Disaster Control. She's sweet as can be with a good head on her shoulders. Often it can seem like she's a bit of flirt, but pets names just happen to be her love language

This is her hopefully soon to be boyfriend Mark Doyle from the same fic. He's kind of big ol' goof, but he always gives everything he does his best. Here's a height comparison for the two of them.

I always imagine Mark being a pretty big dude all around. I actually wanted to make him taller but then I didn't think it would be realistic for Molly in all her five foot glory to be hauling his butt around while he's half delirious in the second part of Disaster Control. So instead I gave all his height to her brother Tyler's future boyfriend Nicholas (Nick) Perry, my favorite cryptid the human pipe cleaner.

Think Shaggy from Scooby Doo, this man is 6'2" build like a beanpole and looks a strong breeze would take him out. Despite that he's a pretty outdoorsy dude and is deceptively strong. If Nicholas could live outside in a tree he probably would, this man is a child of the dirt.

This is his boyfriend and Molly's twin brother Tyler Willams from Stranger on the Roof.

Tyler is exactly 5'2 and is very proud of the extra two inches he has on his sister. She likes to remind him that she's technically two minutes older than him.

He's kind of a shorter stockier dude, and his fashion consists of probably some of the ugliest button ups you've ever seen.

Despite being quite intelligent and appearing put together, Tyler is a disaster. He barely sleeps and is the worst about procrastinating often leaving most things to the last minute

Here's their heights for comparison.

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Stranger On The Rooftop (1/?)

Apparently I came up with this scenario one night when I was feeling anxious and paranoid. To be fair my bed was right next to our attic and had a full length mirror on it so I blame it on that, lol.

I did do some heavy editing on this fic because I'm working on trying to connect all my oc's to one singular universe.

Anyway hope you enjoy this, if anyone is reading these. XD

It was late. 

The moon was high in the sky, and most reasonable people were asleep, but not Tyler. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, finishing up a research paper he’d procrastinated til the last minute. He didn’t mind, though, there wasn’t anywhere for him to be tomorrow and he’d always been more of a Night Owl.

Still, he tried to stay quiet since he knew his roommate, Beck, was sleeping in the next room. The only sound was the faint clicking of his fingers on the keyboard. Tyler paused in his typing momentarily, eyes glued to the screen as he looked over his paper, reading it over and correcting any errors he found. When a sound outside his window startled him.

It was just a creak; the building they lived in was old, after all, but he couldn’t quite calm the building anxiety in his chest.

So he listened quietly, just for a moment, and when he didn’t hear anything else, he figured his ears were just playing tricks on him. But just as he was getting settled back in, someone coughed. He tried to convince himself that it was probably just someone down on the street below, but it sounded too close for that. The hairs on his arms prickled with nervous energy as he slowly got to his feet.

Slowly, he approached the window, hoping to calm his nerves a bit, peering out into the darkness. Not seeing anything as his eyes sweep across the rooftop. Then, he saw the silhouette of something large and dark on his rooftop. It takes it shifting to realize that it’s a person. Someone was on his roof. Tyler squeaked, ducking down and out of view. His heart was thumping in his chest as he hoped whoever it was hadn’t seen him. Then something started tapping against his window. He held his breath, hoping that if he stayed quiet, they would just go away, but whoever it was seemed determined to get a response, so they tapped even louder. “Cobe od dude, I dow you're id there…” He heard someone call out muffled by the glass separating them. Tyler could swear he heard a slight croak in their voice. “What do you want!?” Tyler called out, still not budging from his spot, eyes darting towards his door, still worried about waking his roommate. Even though this seemed as good a reason as any to wake him. “Nothigg…” The voice said, “I just saw you peekigg out add thought you were kidd of cute…” “…I’m calling the cops.” Tyler said, crawling over to his bed to grab his phone. Still wanting to go unseen by this mysterious stranger. “No wait dod't do that please!”

Tyler hesitated, hearing the desperation in the stranger's voice. He slowly got up off the floor, staring out his window, the man shrowded in darkness so he couldn’t see his face. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t…”He answered, unsure why he was giving the stranger on his roof a chance to explain himself. “Uhb...because I'b so charbigg?” He said, and Tyler picked up his phone, “ Okay, wait uhb so were these guys botherigg this girl, well I stepped id add she wedt ode way I wedt the other, add well…I guess you dow who they followed.” “That doesn’t explain why you’re on my roof.” Tyler squawked, starting to get impatient with this guy's rambling. He should call the police and get it over with. “Oh that, I clibbed your tree add hopped od your roof,” He answered, as if it should be obvious, “I was goigg to wait it out udtil I was sure they were gode, add well you showed up add I guess here we are?” Tyler narrowed his eyes but put his phone down, and the man sighed, relieved. “Look, you dod’t deed to worry about lettigg be id or adythigg I was just hopigg to chill od your roof for a bit if that’s okay, I wod't bother you or adythigg.” He thought about it before nodding, figuring there wasn’t any harm in letting the man hang out for a bit. Still, Tyler kept his phone nearby just in case. The man’s silhouette disappeared from his window as Tyler settled back into his bed, trying to immerse himself back in his work. The soft pitter of rain outside his only distraction. He tried not to think about the man sitting in his room, but his thoughts drifted to him as the rain started to pick up. Tyler hoped he’d done the smart thing and gone home. “Hiih’YISCHHI!” The sudden noise startled him, answering his question. It took a second expulsion to realize that it had been a sneeze. He chewed his lip, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. For all intents and purposes, this man was a stranger…but he also didn’t want a stranger to freeze to death out on his roof. “Hiih’YISHhiew!…gn.”

Tyler sighed, getting up and padding over to the window, opening it, and for the first time that night, he finally got a good look at his mystery intruder. He certainly didn’t look very threatening. The guy was on the taller side, probably taller than himself, but he was lanky and spindly like a bean pole.

Tyler couldn’t be sure what color the man’s hair was, but it was well past his chin and plastered to his head with rainwater. “Do you promise you’re not, like, some psycho killer?” Tyler asked, startling the man. “…What?” He said, and Tyler groaned, rolling his eyes. “Just get in here.” Tyler told him, watching his eyes widen as he scrambled to his feet, squeezing through his narrow window inside. 

Now, inside, he looked a bit like a drowned rat. He was tall, like really tall. The jeans he was wearing were at least an inch too short for his long legs, and he was wearing a thin jean jacket over a ratty t-shirt. The knee on his jeans was torn, and he was also missing his left shoe. Despite all his gangly awkwardness, there was no doubt that he was an attractive man. 

“Thagks, by dabe is Nick, by the way.” He said, sticking out his hand to Tyler, a crooked grin on his face as he noticed a small scar on his lip.

Tyler’s face flushed as he took the other man’s hand mechanically, shaking it. “Uhm, Tyler, let me get you a towel you must be freezing.” “Okay, I’ll just wait here, I guess…” Nick said, standing awkwardly in the middle of Tyler's room while the other boy ducked out of the room. He went to their shared bathroom, relieved to see that Beck hadn’t been woken by the commotion, but his roommate also slept like the dead. Tyler tossed the towels at Nick, going over to his dresser and digging around.

He hoped he had something that would fit Nick since the other man was significantly taller than he was. Eventually, he unearthed an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of sweats left over from his ex. Nick was doing his best to dry off when he saw the clothes in Tyler's arms. “Uhm, you don’t have to I know I’m intruding, and it’s late, I should probably just go.” He said, tumbling over his words as Tyler pushed the clothes into his arms. “Dude, it’s like midnight, and you walked here. Take the damn clothes and try not to wake up my roommate.” Tyler ushered him to their bathroom.

Then he went back to his bedroom to give the man a moment of privacy to change. He flopped back onto his bed, not sure what compelled him to let a stranger into their home, but he was here, and Tyler would have to deal with it. Sitting up, he grabbed his laptop, waiting for the other man. ~ The door opened with a soft click, and Tyler lifted his gaze. “Huh’hhiIHYISSsh!” In time to see, Nick snap in half with a brutal sneeze, looking dazed in the aftermath as he pawed at his nose irritably. At least he wasn’t dripping all over his carpet anymore, significantly drier than when he’d gotten here. It gave him a better look at his hair, an unruly nest of dark hair on top of his head. “Make yourself comfortable…”Tyler told him, gesturing to his room, and Nick stood there, looking out of place. Tentatively he crossed the room, before sitting stiffy on his window seat. Tyler tried to work on his homework after that, but Nick wasn’t making it easy. The man was trying to be quiet, he really was, but every once in a while, he’d punctuate the silence with a liquid sniffle or irritated half-cough. It was distracting. “There’s tissue on my desk.” Tyler said, hearing the other man shuffle over to his desk.  He heard him tear a couple of tissues from the box, going to sit back down. He glanced up, wincing when he saw the other man. Nick had attempted to make himself comfortable lying down, but he was too tall for the cushioned window seat. An awkward mess of bent limbs that were sure to make his body ache. He shouldn’t feel bad; it wasn’t like he was expecting to have a guest tonight. Still, he slid off the bed, padding over to the other man in his sock-clad feet, standing there awkwardly as he searched for the right words. “You should take a picture it’ll last logger.” Nick mumbled, cracking open an eye with a cheeky grin. Tyler was sure his face flushed a brilliant shade of red. “You can take the bed if you want.” He blurted out, “I mean, it’s probably more comfortable than trying to cram yourself into the window seat.”

Nick looked at the bed longingly, but he still looked hesitant. “I cad’t take your bed, dude…” “It’s fine, I’m probably going to be up late working on homework anyway, so just swap places with me.” Tyler explained, but still, Nick didn’t budge. “Take the bed, please. You’re making me feel guilty just watching you.” Nick sighed, stumbling to his feet as he walked over to Tyler’s bed flopping down on the mattress with a contented noise. Tyler sat on the window seat, contentedly as he got back to doing his homework. ~

It was around two in the morning when Tyler finally finished up with his homework. He stood up stretching the sore muscles in his back, noticing that the rain had finally stopped outside. 

Walking over to his bed, he stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting about his unexpected guest. Nick curled up on top of his covers, his mouth hung open slightly as he snored. It didn’t seem like he’d be waking up any time soon.

Tyler considered going back to the window seat for a moment. Instead, he went to his closet, digging out a blanket before carefully crawling into bed, too tired to care that he was sharing it with a stranger.

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Disaster Control (2/2)

Here's the second part if anyone's interested, lol. I know it kind of ends abruptly but I wasn't quiet sure how to finish it. Figured I'd leave it open ended just in case I was inspired to add another part but for now this is where I'll leave off with it. Part One Mark woke up to someone shaking him gently. He didn't remember falling asleep, but his mouth was dry and tasted bad. As he sat up, the world swam around him. When his vision cleared, Molly's familiar freckled face came into view. She looked worried; her nose was all crinkled up, and her brow was furrowed. It was kind of cute, but he felt bad about worrying her.

Molly smiled at him, and his heart stuttered in his chest as she brushed his sweat-soaked bangs away from his face. Her hand felt cool, and it took him too long to figure out that she was saying something. “Let’s get you home, love.” Is all he caught as she took his hand, pulling him up onto his feet. The congestion shifts in his head when he gets up, and the world tilts as he stumbles, trying to steady himself. Molly’s arm came around his waist to support him. When his head cleared, he could feel his sinuses prickle. He wrinkled his nose, feeling his chest heave with wheezing, stuttering breaths. “Hihh-“ His breath hitched, it felt like torture as the tickle rolled through his nose slow, as molasses, making it run and his eyes water. ‘Hhh’ihh…HUHh’TZzshuuh!” Mark sneezed harshly, bringing his hands up a second too late to cover, feeling something soft envelope his nose. Without opening his eyes, he blows as gentle hands pinch and wipe away the mess. “Poor thing…”Molly mumbles, and he registers somewhere in his brain that he should be embarrassed, but he’s just…too tired. Carefully, she leads him outside, and he whines, bringing a loose fist up to scrub at his cherry-red nose with a burbling sniff. He could tell his allergy meds had worn off, the pollen wafting through the warm afternoon air, assaulting his miserable sinuses’. “I know we’re almost there…”Molly cooed sympathetically, picking up the pace a little. She hurried him into her beat-up little Subaru, keeping the windows rolled up and blasting the air conditioning but the damage had been done. “Tissues are in the glove box.” She told him, watching him fumble blindly for a moment through hitching breaths. It was painful to watch, so she reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out the pack of tissues for him. He tore into them as soon as they were in his hand, but Mark couldn’t get them up to his face quickly enough before the first sneeze tore out of him. “Hih’HIH’TZZSshuuh!” He tore the tissue from its plastic prison, mouth still agape, as he hesitantly brought it up to cover the rest of the fit.

“Hh’Hih’TSSchuu! ‘TSscht! ‘TScht! HUH’HASSCchuu!…ng.” Mark flopped back against her passenger seat, the tissue still covering the lower half of his face while he caught his breath. Eventually, he mustered the energy to sit up and blow his nose. “Bless you.” Molly offered as he rubbed his forehead, a headache starting to bloom behind his eyes. “Thagks…”He croaked, leaning back against her passenger seat, letting his too-warm face press against the cool glass of her car window. It felt good as he let his tired eyes slide closed, feeling her car pull out of the parking space. ~ It took a minute for Molly to find Mark’s apartment complex. They’d only talked about it a handful of times, so she had to wrack her brain to remember where it was, but now she had a whole new problem.

She had no idea which apartment number was his. So she parked her car before peeking over at the man snoring away in her passenger seat, her heart melting at the sight. Mark’s mouth hung open as he snored, no air getting through his blocked sinuses Mark’s mouth hung up as he snored, no air getting through his blocked sinuses, and he was drooling slightly. He was quite cute, even as a snoring, snotty mess. Molly was reluctant to wake him, but she needed to get him to bed. She shook his shoulder softly to wake him up, and he snorted, sitting up coughing. 

Molly rubbed his back as the fit ran its course, leaving him exhausted and wheezing by the end of it. She got out, ducking around to the passenger side helping out, and together, they went to his apartment.

Thankful that he was coherent enough to tell her which one was his. He fumbled with the keys, hands trembling so much he couldn’t get them into the lock, so she took them from his hand, opening the door. When they got to his bedroom, he flopped face down on his bed with a groan. The most she managed was getting his shoes off before he was snoring again. Standing back to observe him with a snort. He truly was a mess. She wasn’t sure where to go from here. It felt weird being in his apartment while he slept, already feeling like she’d overstepped. Molly stepped back out into his living area, going to the small kitchenette. She made him a mug of tea and dug out some cold medicine that luckily didn’t seem to be expired yet. Leaving them out on the nightstand along with a note letting Mark know to call her when he woke up and to let her know if he needed anything before quietly exiting his apartment.

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Stranger On The Rooftop (1/?)

Apparently I came up with this scenario one night when I was feeling anxious and paranoid. To be fair my bed was right next to our attic and had a full length mirror on it so I blame it on that, lol.

I did do some heavy editing on this fic because I'm working on trying to connect all my oc's to one singular universe.

Anyway hope you enjoy this, if anyone is reading these. XD

It was late. 

The moon was high in the sky, and most reasonable people were asleep, but not Tyler. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, finishing up a research paper he’d procrastinated til the last minute. He didn’t mind, though, there wasn’t anywhere for him to be tomorrow and he’d always been more of a Night Owl.

Still, he tried to stay quiet since he knew his roommate, Beck, was sleeping in the next room. The only sound was the faint clicking of his fingers on the keyboard. Tyler paused in his typing momentarily, eyes glued to the screen as he looked over his paper, reading it over and correcting any errors he found. When a sound outside his window startled him.

It was just a creak; the building they lived in was old, after all, but he couldn’t quite calm the building anxiety in his chest.

So he listened quietly, just for a moment, and when he didn’t hear anything else, he figured his ears were just playing tricks on him. But just as he was getting settled back in, someone coughed. He tried to convince himself that it was probably just someone down on the street below, but it sounded too close for that. The hairs on his arms prickled with nervous energy as he slowly got to his feet.

Slowly, he approached the window, hoping to calm his nerves a bit, peering out into the darkness. Not seeing anything as his eyes sweep across the rooftop. Then, he saw the silhouette of something large and dark on his rooftop. It takes it shifting to realize that it’s a person. Someone was on his roof. Tyler squeaked, ducking down and out of view. His heart was thumping in his chest as he hoped whoever it was hadn’t seen him. Then something started tapping against his window. He held his breath, hoping that if he stayed quiet, they would just go away, but whoever it was seemed determined to get a response, so they tapped even louder. “Cobe od dude, I dow you're id there…” He heard someone call out muffled by the glass separating them. Tyler could swear he heard a slight croak in their voice. “What do you want!?” Tyler called out, still not budging from his spot, eyes darting towards his door, still worried about waking his roommate. Even though this seemed as good a reason as any to wake him. “Nothigg…” The voice said, “I just saw you peekigg out add thought you were kidd of cute…” “…I’m calling the cops.” Tyler said, crawling over to his bed to grab his phone. Still wanting to go unseen by this mysterious stranger. “No wait dod't do that please!”

Tyler hesitated, hearing the desperation in the stranger's voice. He slowly got up off the floor, staring out his window, the man shrowded in darkness so he couldn’t see his face. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t…”He answered, unsure why he was giving the stranger on his roof a chance to explain himself. “Uhb...because I'b so charbigg?” He said, and Tyler picked up his phone, “ Okay, wait uhb so were these guys botherigg this girl, well I stepped id add she wedt ode way I wedt the other, add well…I guess you dow who they followed.” “That doesn’t explain why you’re on my roof.” Tyler squawked, starting to get impatient with this guy's rambling. He should call the police and get it over with. “Oh that, I clibbed your tree add hopped od your roof,” He answered, as if it should be obvious, “I was goigg to wait it out udtil I was sure they were gode, add well you showed up add I guess here we are?” Tyler narrowed his eyes but put his phone down, and the man sighed, relieved. “Look, you dod’t deed to worry about lettigg be id or adythigg I was just hopigg to chill od your roof for a bit if that’s okay, I wod't bother you or adythigg.” He thought about it before nodding, figuring there wasn’t any harm in letting the man hang out for a bit. Still, Tyler kept his phone nearby just in case. The man’s silhouette disappeared from his window as Tyler settled back into his bed, trying to immerse himself back in his work. The soft pitter of rain outside his only distraction. He tried not to think about the man sitting in his room, but his thoughts drifted to him as the rain started to pick up. Tyler hoped he’d done the smart thing and gone home. “Hiih’YISCHHI!” The sudden noise startled him, answering his question. It took a second expulsion to realize that it had been a sneeze. He chewed his lip, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. For all intents and purposes, this man was a stranger…but he also didn’t want a stranger to freeze to death out on his roof. “Hiih’YISHhiew!…gn.”

Tyler sighed, getting up and padding over to the window, opening it, and for the first time that night, he finally got a good look at his mystery intruder. He certainly didn’t look very threatening. The guy was on the taller side, probably taller than himself, but he was lanky and spindly like a bean pole.

Tyler couldn’t be sure what color the man’s hair was, but it was well past his chin and plastered to his head with rainwater. “Do you promise you’re not, like, some psycho killer?” Tyler asked, startling the man. “…What?” He said, and Tyler groaned, rolling his eyes. “Just get in here.” Tyler told him, watching his eyes widen as he scrambled to his feet, squeezing through his narrow window inside. 

Now, inside, he looked a bit like a drowned rat. He was tall, like really tall. The jeans he was wearing were at least an inch too short for his long legs, and he was wearing a thin jean jacket over a ratty t-shirt. The knee on his jeans was torn, and he was also missing his left shoe. Despite all his gangly awkwardness, there was no doubt that he was an attractive man. 

“Thagks, by dabe is Nick, by the way.” He said, sticking out his hand to Tyler, a crooked grin on his face as he noticed a small scar on his lip.

Tyler’s face flushed as he took the other man’s hand mechanically, shaking it. “Uhm, Tyler, let me get you a towel you must be freezing.” “Okay, I’ll just wait here, I guess…” Nick said, standing awkwardly in the middle of Tyler's room while the other boy ducked out of the room. He went to their shared bathroom, relieved to see that Beck hadn’t been woken by the commotion, but his roommate also slept like the dead. Tyler tossed the towels at Nick, going over to his dresser and digging around.

He hoped he had something that would fit Nick since the other man was significantly taller than he was. Eventually, he unearthed an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of sweats left over from his ex. Nick was doing his best to dry off when he saw the clothes in Tyler's arms. “Uhm, you don’t have to I know I’m intruding, and it’s late, I should probably just go.” He said, tumbling over his words as Tyler pushed the clothes into his arms. “Dude, it’s like midnight, and you walked here. Take the damn clothes and try not to wake up my roommate.” Tyler ushered him to their bathroom.

Then he went back to his bedroom to give the man a moment of privacy to change. He flopped back onto his bed, not sure what compelled him to let a stranger into their home, but he was here, and Tyler would have to deal with it. Sitting up, he grabbed his laptop, waiting for the other man. ~ The door opened with a soft click, and Tyler lifted his gaze. “Huh’hhiIHYISSsh!” In time to see, Nick snap in half with a brutal sneeze, looking dazed in the aftermath as he pawed at his nose irritably. At least he wasn’t dripping all over his carpet anymore, significantly drier than when he’d gotten here. It gave him a better look at his hair, an unruly nest of dark hair on top of his head. “Make yourself comfortable…”Tyler told him, gesturing to his room, and Nick stood there, looking out of place. Tentatively he crossed the room, before sitting stiffy on his window seat. Tyler tried to work on his homework after that, but Nick wasn’t making it easy. The man was trying to be quiet, he really was, but every once in a while, he’d punctuate the silence with a liquid sniffle or irritated half-cough. It was distracting. “There’s tissue on my desk.” Tyler said, hearing the other man shuffle over to his desk.  He heard him tear a couple of tissues from the box, going to sit back down. He glanced up, wincing when he saw the other man. Nick had attempted to make himself comfortable lying down, but he was too tall for the cushioned window seat. An awkward mess of bent limbs that were sure to make his body ache. He shouldn’t feel bad; it wasn’t like he was expecting to have a guest tonight. Still, he slid off the bed, padding over to the other man in his sock-clad feet, standing there awkwardly as he searched for the right words. “You should take a picture it’ll last logger.” Nick mumbled, cracking open an eye with a cheeky grin. Tyler was sure his face flushed a brilliant shade of red. “You can take the bed if you want.” He blurted out, “I mean, it’s probably more comfortable than trying to cram yourself into the window seat.”

Nick looked at the bed longingly, but he still looked hesitant. “I cad’t take your bed, dude…” “It’s fine, I’m probably going to be up late working on homework anyway, so just swap places with me.” Tyler explained, but still, Nick didn’t budge. “Take the bed, please. You’re making me feel guilty just watching you.” Nick sighed, stumbling to his feet as he walked over to Tyler’s bed flopping down on the mattress with a contented noise. Tyler sat on the window seat, contentedly as he got back to doing his homework. ~

It was around two in the morning when Tyler finally finished up with his homework. He stood up stretching the sore muscles in his back, noticing that the rain had finally stopped outside. 

Walking over to his bed, he stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting about his unexpected guest. Nick curled up on top of his covers, his mouth hung open slightly as he snored. It didn’t seem like he’d be waking up any time soon.

Tyler considered going back to the window seat for a moment. Instead, he went to his closet, digging out a blanket before carefully crawling into bed, too tired to care that he was sharing it with a stranger.