#and I keep sniffling. which is annoying because I’ve already got allergies

[skyward-floored]

Me, crying and barely able to speak because of it: no really mom I’m not upset seriously it’s not a big deal (she didn’t believe me)

[glitterrosesnz]

*gently places request for kaeya trying to hide sickness/allergies around diluc?*

i took this request and went “ah yes, just a fic with Diluc and Kaeya, nice and simple, i could probably write like 800 words for this and be done” but then Venti and Jean materialized into the fic just for two very specific jokes, and who was I, someone who operates on rule of funny, to deny them, and soon enough this was 1.7k words-

anyways this may not be exactly what you wanted but like. please take it anyways.

It had been a long day.

Jean had politely asked Diluc to accompany her, Venti, and Kaeya out on a mission to investigate a reported monster sighting. Of course, since things could never be easy, there just had to be an abyss mage hanging around. Admittedly, the four of them together had made very short work of defeating it, although Diluc had noticed that, annoyingly enough, Venti and Kaeya had done nearly no damage to it. The two of them were probably distracted with coming up with some scheme to amuse themselves, and Diluc would probably get the short end of the stick if he involved himself in it.

This idea was even more so cemented when Venti said he was "tired" and that they should "rest here for the night" instead of walking all the way back to Mondstadt. That was definitely weird, and the glances Venti kept throwing Kaeya didn't help ease Diluc's suspicions that the two of them were planning something. Jean either didn't seem to notice or didn't care, as she agreed with Venti's request to set up camp, and started building a small campfire, requesting Diluc to light it.

They spent at least 20 minutes in silence after that, other than Venti playing a soft tune on his lyre.

Jean yawned.

"You should go to bed." Diluc said, "You worked hard today, we don't need you pushing yourself too hard."

"Mm, you're right." Jean said, standing up to go and do just that. "We don't need anyone getting sick before we get back to Mondstadt."

Unnoticed behind them, Kaeya choked on the water he'd been drinking, triggering a coughing fit. Venti patted his back comfortingly, while looking at Diluc and Jean with the most exasperated expression. Not that either of them noticed.

Instead, Jean simply went to bed, while Diluc went back to sitting down and quietly tending to the fire. He didn't spare Venti or Kaeya a second glance.

---

A whole day.

Venti had been putting up with this for a whole day.

He, of course, had figured out rather easily that Kaeya was sick. The knight covered up well, but for a god it was rather easy to tell.

(That, and it wasn't like the winds didn't leave him knowing every single secret anyways...)

So he knew. Oh, he knew.

He had been going to tell Diluc and Jean immediately, but Kaeya had stopped him, quietly offering up some high quality wine in exchange for Venti's silence.

If Venti had known how much trouble it would've been, he never would've agreed.

At first it was fine, Venti distracting Diluc and Jean whenever Kaeya had to turn away to stifle a sneeze into complete silence. (Venti knew that couldn't be good for him, but he really wasn't one to talk, so he let it be.)

It was when Kaeya started getting worse that he started to worry.

Especially when they had to fight the abyss mage.

Venti had tried to cover for Kaeya's sloppy, feverish movements, but by consequence it led to Jean and Diluc having to do most of the work. He winced at the glare Diluc had sent him for that, before he turned his attention back to making sure the Calvary Captain wasn't going to pass out.

The heat he could feel radiating off of the cyro user when he fell back to walk in time with him was anything but good.

That was when Venti had called for them to make camp, a call which Kaeya had clearly appreciated, sitting down as soon as he could.

His condition had clearly deteriorated over the course of the day, he was only just barely keeping up his 'cool' composure. He looked like a mess, and Venti was quite frankly shocked that neither Diluc nor Jean had picked up on it yet. Although, then again, they could just be accounting it to the earlier fight....

After the brief coughing fit from Jean's, unknowingly ironic, comment before she went to bed, Venti had thought that Diluc would've of clued in, or at the very least questioned him.

Instead he sat in silence.

Venti spent a few minutes glancing between Diluc and the, now subtly sniffling, Kaeya, before he decided that enough was enough.

Barely thinking things through, Venti directed the winds to blow some smoke right into Kaeya's face.

The effect was immediate.

"Hi'NGTsh-iu!" Kaeya barely managed to stifle the sneeze into his arm, but compared to the quiet of before it was very noticeable. "HiH- H'NTCH-uu!"

"...Are you alright?" Diluc asked, and Venti barely managed to keep himself from yelling 'Finally!'. Kaeya sniffled, the back of his hand still pressed against his nose.

"I'm fine- hiH! H'NGTCHi! S-sorry I just- hEh! E-excuse me for a moment-" Kaeya said, suddenly standing up, stumbling a little as his breath hitched, before turning and walking out of the camp, and into the forest, Venti and Diluc silently watching him go.

"..Well?" Venti asked, after a moment. "Aren't you going to go after him?"

"Why should I go after him?" Diluc asked, with an annoyed tone of voice, but it did nothing to hide his obvious concern.

"Because he's your brother and you're worried about him?" Venti said, laying out the obvious. "Besides, Jean is asleep, and I've got...something else I have to do. So... go on then. Oh, also take this, he might need it."

Venti summoned and threw a blanket at Diluc, which he caught effortlessly. Diluc gave Venti a glance, clearly wondering about what in the world Venti needed to do, but still he did not argue, standing up and walking in the direction Kaeya had.

---

It didn't take long to find him.

Kaeya was sitting on the ground, back against a tree, catching sneeze after sneeze in his hands. The temperature around him had dropped considerably, and Diluc gave a slight shudder as he felt the chill, suddenly very grateful for his jacket.

Kaeya's sneezing fit seemed to be starting to come to an end, the sneezes growing more spaced out, and Diluc noticed there were faint bits of frost starting to gather around Kaeya himself. Diluc sighed as he dropped the blanket down on top of Kaeya's head.

Kaeya must have not heard him approach, as he startled, looking up at him, the blanket sliding off his head to settle around his shoulders. Probably instinctively, Kaeya pulled the blanket closer around himself as he shivered.

"You're sick." Diluc stated. Kaeya avoided looking him in the eye.

"Am not." He muttered, before his breath hitched yet again- "HiH- H'ISCHI-uu!"

"Jeez. You sound horrible." Diluc said, and Kaeya gave a smirk that held none of it's usual 'smug' effect due to the condition he was in.

"Aw Diluc, are you concerned about me?~" Kaeya asked. Diluc didn't bother with an answer.

"I'm telling Jean." Is what he said instead, turning around and starting to walk away.

"No, wait-" Kaeya started, standing up, before his breath caught, and he started coughing, leaning against the tree for support. Diluc quickly hurried back to his side, quietly hovering, not sure how to react.

"...How long have you been sick?" He asked, once Kaeya's coughing fit had died down.

"I'm not sick." Kaeya said, voice weaker than before. Diluc didn't look impressed.

"Don't lie to me." He said.

".....Since yesterday." Kaeya whispered, and Diluc had to resist the urge to punch him.

"Yesterday? Okay, I was kind of joking about telling Jean before, but now-" He said, starting to walk back towards the camp. Kaeya quickly scurried after him.

"C'mon, there's no need to tell her, she's sleeping, and I ca-haH.....can handle it- hIH! H'ISSCHU!"

"You do realize you are being incredibly unconvincing." Diluc said as they reentered the campsite, plainly referring to the way Kaeya had the blanket drawn around him, as well as the now constant sneezing,. "Seriously, neither I nor Jean would hesitate to carry you back to Mondstadt if necessary."

"Don't forget about me!" Venti said, startling the both of them as he suddenly appeared out of nowhere, holding some mint plants in one hand. "I'd carry you too! I'm stronger than I look, y'know."

"...What's with the mint?" Kaeya asked.

"Oh this? I thought I'd make some mint tea, it might help clear you up a little. You sound pretty congested." Venti said, already pulling out the proper materials to mash the leaves.

"...Do I really sound that bad?" Kaeya asked, wincing when Venti and Diluc both nodded yes. Diluc moved Kaeya until he was once again sitting down where he had been before, and Venti pulled out a tea pot.

"Wha-where did- have you been carrying that the whole time?" Diluc asked, gesturing to the teapot. Venti did not give him an answer.

"Master Diluc, if you would ever so kindly adjust the temperature of the fire?" He asked instead.

"...What do you think I am, a stove?" Diluc quietly mumbled, but still complied, using his vision to adjust the campfire's temperature to be perfect for tea making. In just a few minutes, Kaeya had a cup of warm tea in his hands. He quietly sipped at it while Venti pulled out his lyre and started playing again, leaving Diluc to clean up the materials he had used to make the tea.

The steam tickled Kaeya's nose, that and the sudden freshness brought on by the mint made his breath hitch, and he hurriedly held the cup away from him with one hand while he used his other arm to-

"H'iSSCH-iu! hEH- H'ITCHHI-uu!"

"What's going on?"

The three of them jumped as Jean suddenly spoke. They turned to see that she had woken up, slowly getting out of her makeshift sleeping bag.

"This fool," Diluc said, pointing at Kaeya. "Has been sick since yesterday, and didn't bother to tell us."

"I keep telling you I can handle it-" Kaeya started, quickly shutting up as Jean laid a hand against his forehead, checking his temperature. She tsk'ed, not at all pleased with what she had found.

"You're burning up." She said, crossing her arms and, altogether, looking very disappointed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Kaeya didn't respond, pointedly not looking at her as he took another sip of his tea.

"He didn't want to worry you." Venti said, casually plucking another string on his lyre as he feigned indifference. Diluc scoffed at that, while Jean just gave a sigh.

"As soon as we get back to Mondstadt, you sir, are going to bed." She said, lightly booping Kaeya's nose as she said it to emphasize her point, although this had the unintended side effect of making him quickly turn away, ducking his head into his arm to catch yet another sneeze.

"Hi'SCHI-uu!"

[meforeverz]

Spring in Hatchetfield (The Guy Who Didn’t like Musicals, Paul Matthews)

It’s been quite a while since I’ve written a snzfic, so here we go!

Paul sniffed uncomfortably as he walked into the office. It was a beautiful late spring day. Nice and warm with a small breeze. Perfect, if you weren't allergic to pollen. And even the less than five minute walk from his car to the office was enough for his allergies to start bothering him.

“Morning Paul!” Melissa beamed at him. Paul returned the smile, rubbing absentmindedly at his nose. 

“Morning Melissa!” he said. To his frustration, his nose was already itching quite badly. He hadn’t taken the antihistamine he still had because it made him annoyingly sleepy. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to the third floor. As soon as the doors closed he immediately pressed his wrist against his nose, trying to will the now spiking itch in his nose away. It didn’t work though. “H’nxxx! H’xnntc!” two tightly stifled sneezes escaped him. Paul sighed and got out of the elevator. He headed to his cubicle and practically fell into his chair. “He’Xxcn!” he barely managed to stifle the sneeze. 

“Bless you!” 

Paul jumped, surprised by the sudden voice to his left. He looked over and saw Bill sitting next to him at his own desk. 

“Thank you.” he muttered. Looking over to the window on his other side, he saw to his dismay that it was opened widely. On one hand, he knew he should close it. Otherwise this day would not be very fun. On the other hand, the window was in Ted’s cubicle. Which meant he’d have to ask Ted. And there was a good chance Ted would just refuse anyway. So, he resigned himself to a day of suffering. 

He wasn’t even an hour into the day when he thoroughly regretted that thought. His breath hitched again and he quickly turned away from Ted, who’d been complaining about one thing or another. “Hu’exxnt! H’nnnx!” he couldn’t help but wince a little as the last sneeze scraped against his throat. “S’cuse me.” he mumbled.

“Ew, gross.” Ted said. Paul rolled his eyes, fighting against the embarrassed flush working it’s way up his face. 

“That’s an interesting way to say bless you. It’s because you keep your window open so wide.” he complained. Ted scoffed in response. 

“Not my problem, should have taken anti whateverthefuck.” he said. 

“Antihistamine.” Paul deadpanned. Ted waved his hand.

“That. Sorry dude but if I close the window I’ll choke because of this goddamn heat.” Ted said a little more apologetically. Paul sighed and was about to respond when he was forced to turn away again. 

“Hu’Achhew! H’nXxct!” he didn’t manage to stifle the first sneeze. 

“Bless you!” Charlotte said, who’d just entered the room. Paul jumped, not expecting her. 

“Thank you.” he responded, rubbing his nose again. He sat down again, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose for what felt like the tenth time that day (and judging from the glare that Ted gave him he’d been doing it more than enough to be annoying) “He’xXC!” rubbing his eyes, he made up his mind. “I’m going to Beanies. Anyone want anything?” he asked. 

“GET ME A CHAI TEA!” Ted yelled. 

It was a short walk to the cafe. He’d normally enjoy the weather, but now he was just focussed on getting to the place as soon as he could. When he practically reached the entrance to Beanies the itch in his nose spiked again and he had to steady himself on the doorframe. 

“H’nnXc! H’Xxch! X’xxchew!” he groaned. 

“Bless!” Emma called from inside. He looked up at her and smiled. 

“Hi Emma. Sorry.” he said. Emma shrugged. 

“No worries. Don’t sneeze like that.” she said. Paul frowned.

“Why not?” he asked, walking over to the counter. 

“You could burst a blood vessel. Or rupture your throat.” 

Paul shook his head affectionately, muttering something about biology students. “I will sneeze h-how, fuck, sohh-rry, H’xxchh! h’Achew! However I damn please.” he said. 

“Next time you sneeze like that I’ll punch you.” Emma quipped. The joke didn’t quite land with Paul however. 

“Please don’t. I’ve been suffering enough already.” he said. As if to punctuate his claim, he immediately turned away from Emma again. “Hu’Achh!” Emma’s face softened.

“How are you holding up?” she asked more gently. Paul shrugged.

“My nose feels like it’s trying to escape my face. Ted won’t close the damn window in the office so I’m not getting any relief inside.” he said, rubbing his nose and blinking. Emma nodded sympathetically. 

“Not fun I hear. Order?” she asked. She didn’t want to push him, but she could almost feel the glare of her boss on her back if she chatted too long. 

“Oh yeah, uh, He’Atch! H’Uchew! Sorry, one black coffee and a chai tea.” he said. 

“Bless. Coming right up.” she said. It was quiet for a bit, the silence only broken by Paul’s occasional sniffles. Then, Emma chuckled. “You know, this could be the universe’s way of revenge for that time you got me those scented candles.” she said. Paul trew his hands up, although he was smiling slightly.

“How was I supposed to know you were sensitive to those? You never t- fuck’sss sake A’chhu! Hu’achew! Told me!” he said. He sighed, pulling a tissue from his pocket and blowing his nose. “Sorry. God I feel gross.” he said. Emma placed the drinks next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You look miserable Paul. Can’t you just take an antihistamine?” she asked. Paul shook his head.

“Makes me too sleepy to properly work.” he said. Shaking his head again to clear it, he smiled at Emma. “I’ll be alright babe, really. It’s just annoying.” he said. He looked at the clock behind Emma. “Damn, I have to go back. Sorry Em.” he said. Emma leaned forward and kissed him. She couldn’t help herself, and quickly kissed him on the nose as well. Paul practically shoved her off him and buried his face into his elbow. 

“H’acchew! Hu’Achh! A’cchhew! He’Ticchew! h-h-Hu”tchhew! Emma!” he whined. Emma chucked. 

“Sorry Paul. Didn’t expect it to make you sneeze. Honestly.” she said. 

“You’re a menace and I hate you.” he responded. But Emma could see the twinkle in his eye. She smiled wider. 

“I’ll see you after work. You coming to pick me up?” she asked. Paul nodded. 

“I will. Bye Em!” he said, and quickly exited the cafe. 

At 5 pm Emma finally exited the café . She’d been on her feet all day and was exhausted. Just like promised, Paul’s car was in front of the store. She quickly got in and closed the door before looking over at Paul. He smiled at her. His nose was almost bright red and his eyes looked slightly watery. He was about to lean over to give her a kiss when he held up a finger and turned away.

“H’xxch! Sorry, H’tchh!” he sighed. 

“Bless you Paul.” she said affectionately. He sniffed and rubbed his nose. 

“Thank you. As soon as we’re home I’m taking those antihistamines. Let’s-” he cut himself off. “H’nxxc! Ugh, sorry. Do you want to drive maybe? I don’t want you to feel like I might crash the car.” he continued. Emma nodded. They got up and swapped seats. It was a good idea too, because as soon as Paul sat down he succumbed to another fit. “Hu’achew! H’EChhew! h-h’Achh! A’cchh!” he sighed, leaning back in the car seat. Emma gently ran her hand over his knee. 

“Let’s get you home.” 

[fanforthefics]

For the AU game. Bodyguard AU or Teacher AU for Tyson/Gabe??

1) Everyone knows of the Great Rivalry.

At least, everyone at Avalanche High does. It’s one of the first things Freshmen are filled in on. These are the edible meals from the cafeteria, these are the bathrooms not to go into if you don’t want a contact high, and also, if you ever want to stop Mr. Barrie’s Chem class for ten minutes, ask him about the time Mr. Landeskog stole all his pens. That will get you at least ten minutes of ranting about humanities teachers who think they’re too good for logic and rationality and like to nitpick other people’s grammar and the time it takes to grade and fashion choices and who definitely think they’re better than everyone else just because they happen to be good at everything. He might go a bit into his perfect hair, but take takes a particularly windswept day.

Of course, if you want to delay Mr. Landeskog’s class, you can ask about the time Mr. Barrie put a stink bomb in his classroom so he had to have class outside all day. He can’t prove it was Mr. Barrie and his homeroom, but that won’t stop him snapping about it and ridiculous science teachers who don’t understand nuance and purposefully misinterpret everything and never take things seriously. If you catch him at the right moment, and ask about Mr. Barrie’s habit of bringing in cookies for his classes, Mr. Landeskog might skip a beat, but it usually won’t get you a longer rant, so it’s not useful.

This is the Great Rivalry. This is Avalanche High’s favorite drama. (This is Nathan Mackinnon’s, long-suffering Phys Ed teacher, greatest bane).

2) Tyson definitely really does hate Gabe. He tells Nate that, over and over again. Partly because he doesn’t trust that anyone can actually be that hot and smart and good a teacher and so loved by the kids and look so good in the shorts he wears when he’s coaching field hockey. He has to be faking all of that. Tyson is sure he is, in fact, because the polite, charming face he puts on around literally everyone else somehow always falls with Tyson.

“Maybe because you’re mean to him too?” Nate suggests, as they sit in the teacher’s lounge eating the brownies Tyson brought in because it was easier to bake than to grade.

Tyson glances over to the table wear Gabe is sitting with some of the other humanities teachers, laughing loudly. “I’m not mean.” Nate raises an eyebrow. “I’m not meaner to him than anyone else,” Tyson amends, because fine, he can be sarcastic, what the fuck ever. Nate’s eyebrow stays up.

Because Tyson doesn’t want to see that judgy eyebrow (Nate really shouldn’t through stones if he’s living in the mean house too), he looks around again, somehow settles on where Gabe is. Gabe’s not laughing anymore, and somehow he looks over at the same time, catches Tyson’s eye. He raises his eyebrows, all dripping condescension. Tyson makes a face back.

“You only prank him.”

“I do not—”

“So, Tyson. I hear your kids are going to Science Olympiad this year.” Tyson doesn’t need to know who’s standing there, because he recognizes the voice, the tone, and also the trim torso, but he looks up anyway. Gabe’s standing there, looking down his aristocratic nose at Tyson. “First time?”

Tyson flushes. He’s proud of his kids for that, it’s a pretty new program and they’ve all been working their asses off. Gabe doesn’t need to say it like that, like he let them down because they didn’t get qualify before. “Yes,” he retorts, trying and probably failing to let that show on his face. “How’s the field hockey team doing?”

It’s a low blow because they all know that it was a pretty devastating loss last week, and one of Tyson’s Olympiad team is on the field hockey team and she’d been in literal tears when they lost, and Tyson had just been getting ready to go over to the bench to maybe say something when Gabe had found her and talked to her until she sniffled and smiled a little. But still. Gabe shouldn’t insult Tyson’s team if he’s not ready to be insulted.

Gabe clearly isn’t ready to be insulted, because he flushes a dull red. “We’re rallying,” he replies, cooly, and reaches down for one of the brownies on the table. Tyson grabs the brownies away.

“These are for people who don’t give my team shit,” he tells Gabe. “No cookies until you can recite the quadratic formula.”

“Then why does Nate get them?” Gabe asks, and Nate makes an offended noise but doesn’t disagree. Gabe grins at Nate, easy and handsome in a way he never is with Tyson.

“That’s the Dogg exception,” Tyson says, and Gabe turns back to Tyson, that smile freezing on his face. It’s fine. Tyson doesn’t care that Gabe never looks at Tyson like that. “It’s a narrow one.”

“Sure it is,” Gabe agrees. He knocks on the table, which should be lame except he somehow manages to pull it off, then heads out of the teacher’s lounge with a wave to Nate. Nate turns to Tyson.

Tyson gestures wildly. “See!”

Nate’s eye roll is probably a risk to his health. “Oh, I see.”

3) (The first time Tyson talks to Gabe, Tyson really was trying to be friendly. They were both new, or so Tyson guessed given that everyone was giving him the ‘hi new kid’ handshake, and Tyson was excited and nervous and wanted to make friends, especially with the hottest guy he’d ever seen. They’d been milling around before the first teacher’s meeting, and Tyson had gone over to Gabe, and held out the Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies he’d made to bribe everyone into liking him. “Cookie?” He’d said.

Gabe had turned around, and he’d given Tyson a look like—it was the look he still gave Tyson, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there. “I don’t eat cookies,” he’d replied, all snooty, and Tyson had still been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Seriously, bud?” He’d asked, still smiling so it was clear it was a joke. “How do you survive without a sugar fix? It’s like, my drug. Well, and caffeine, but that doesn’t count.” Gabe still didn’t say anything, so of course Tyson was going to keep talking. “I mean, I can see you don’t eat much sugar, or you’d have to be working out like, an insane amount to look like that, which you clearly do, but not like, as much as you would if you ate as much chocolate as me.”

“Is the sugar why you talk so much?” Gabe had replied, and like, Tyson got it, okay? He knew he talked too much, especially when he was nervous, and said stupid shit and he was trying. Gabe didn’t need to jump down his throat for it.

Tyson had swallowed, and then, “Fine, I’ll go give the sugars to someone who deserves it,” he’d retorted, trying to save face. He left before Gabe could say anything else. But he’d seen Gabe eat a cookie later, in the teacher’s lounge, so. He got the message. And it was on.).

4) Gabe really does hate Tyson. He tells EJ that, and sometimes Nate, and sometimes Mikko. Often his sister. Generally, anyone who will listen.

“Okay, yeah, but you don’t,” EJ informs him. EJ, Gabe thinks, probably has a class to teach, but is instead sitting on Gabe’s desk as Gabe tries to prep for his next class.

“He planted a stink—“

“Have you ever tried being nice to him? Then he might be nice to you.” EJ waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously on the word nice. Gabe is an adult and thus doesn’t blush.

“I’ve tried,” he says, very dignified. “He takes everything I say the wrong way. It’s like he’s willfully misunderstanding me. Yes,” He goes on, before EJ can say what Gabe knows he was going to say, “I heard it, I know, but this is not Pride and Prejudice.”

“But you’d make such a good Darcy,” EJ retorts. “And you want it to be. You can carry him off to your manor and have sex on every surface and to the lake swim thing so he can gape at you as you get out and—“

“I don’t want any of that,” Gabe snaps. He’s only like. 25% lying. “He’s so annoying and so touchy and I don’t—“

“Wow, say what you really feel,” comes a voice from the doorway, and Gabe resists hitting his head to the desk by the skin of his teeth. Every time. Every single time. He just can’t seem to say anything right around Tyson.

“What are you doing here?” He asks. This is the humanities wing of the building, Tyson usually sticks to his lab. Except this time Tyson is standing in his doorway, his arms crossed over his chest in that way that Gabe can’t quite look away from, and scowling. As he usually is, looking at Gabe.

“I was going to find Colin to see if he was coming to drinks tonight. But I guess I’m not wanted around here.” He snorts. “Good. Too many books here anyway.” He smiles, but it’s not the one he gives everyone else, that bright, open thing. “I think I’m allergic.”

“You can’t be allergic to books,” Gabe points out.

“Because you’re the expert on allergies? Did you go out and get an MD along the way?” Tyson asks, snorting.

“And you are the expert?” Gabe retorts. Tyson always does this, pokes at him until it gets Gabe’s back up and he has to snipe back, even if he hadn’t meant to at the beginning. Even though he never means too, at the beginning. At least when he’s irritated he actually knows what he’s saying, though.

“I’m closer than you, I took some bio classes,” Tyson informs him, and looks ready to say more, but then the bell rings, and he glances over his shoulder at the hallways that will be filled with students soon. “I’ll see you later,” he tells EJ. He doesn’t look at Gabe when he leaves.

“See?” Gabe demands of EJ.

EJ smirks. “Oh, I see,” he says, and then yelps as Gabe smacks his arm.

5) (The first time Gabe talked to Tyson, Gabe meant to be friendly. He had been so, so nervous, and trying not to show it—waiting for the questions about why a non-native speaker was teaching English, wanting to impress everyone, wanting to be liked—and then he’d heard “Cookie?” And turned around, and—

Gabe’s smooth, usually. Often. But there was something about his nerves already, and that bug smile and the glint in those brown eyes and the way his shirt hugged the muscles of his arms and Gabe had not been expecting it, the sudden hit of attraction. And…he wasn’t always good, with things he didn’t expect. So he’d stammered something about not eating cookies, because it was the first words his brain put together, and, well. It all went downhill from there.

But if Tyson wanted to bring it. Gabe was going to bring it back.)

6) So everything’s good and they’re only minorly driving Nate crazy and entertaining EJ to no end, and then it’s someone’s brilliant idea to assign them to spearhead the baking sale. (EJ. Tyson is definitely blaming EJ. On principle, and also because he’d utterly failed at keeping it together when Bednar announced it at the staff meeting).

(“But it’s perfect!” Nate says, looking very innocent. “You love to bake and he’s good at the organizational shit.” So maybe Tyson blames Nate too.)

So they have to work together, it seems like, because Tyson’s definitely not going to let their bake sale raise less money than Calgary High, because fuck that shit. So once Gabe stops sneering at him long enough to actually set up a time to meet after school, Tyson really does do his homework. He’s not going to let Gabe show him up either.

Gabe does not show him up, but he does show up to their meeting—at the coffee shop down the street from the school because it’s after school hours and also Tyson’s classroom smelled a little suspicious from a mix up and he wanted to let it air out before he spent a significant amount of time there again—with a to do list. And a chart.

“Wow,” Tyson drawls, when Gabe lays the to do list on the table. “Really leaning into the whole teachers are just nerds who grew up thing, eh?”

“No one says that,” Gabe retorts, rolling his eyes. “And you’re a teacher too.”

Tyson waves a hand. He doesn’t see how either of those things matter. “Yeah, but I’m a cool teacher.” Gabe snorts. “You think you’re cooler than me?”

Gabe raises an eyebrow. He looks, fine, very cool doing it. But that’s just because anyone with that jawline and that hair and those eyes would look cool. It’s not like, inherent to him.  Tyson is cool despite genetics that gave him unruly hair and barely average height and a predilection for babbling. Gabe’s only cool because of genetics.

“Okay, let’s get down to business, defeat the huns and all that,” Tyson says, grabbing the paper. He ignores Gabe’s snort, and glances at it. It’s, fine, a lot of useful things, like figuring out the budget and getting volunteers and coordinating parents. Tyson would have thought of all of it. Definitely. “Okay, but where’s the baking?”

“We’re organizing, we don’t have to contribute,” Gabe replies, like that’s obvious and Tyson should have known it. Which, thanks. Tyson does actually get the distinction. But,

“Yeah, we’re not going to get any teacher to contribute if we don’t,” Tyson informs him. Maybe Gabe should know that. “Like, there’s no way to passive aggressively guilt them into it if we don’t do it too.”

“Maybe they’ll contribute without the guilt,” Gabe says, but Tyson doesn’t both to pretend he doesn’t crack up at that, and Gabe waits a beat, then he starts chuckling too. “Okay, fine, yeah. But I don’t really bake.”

“I’m not doing the baking for both of us,” Tyson warns. He’s not going to be that person in the group project, because fuck that shit.

“You like to bake.”

“Yeah, but not to do other people’s work,” Tyson shoots back. Gabe shakes his head.

“I didn’t—I just…probably shouldn’t bake,” he admits, looking a little shame-faced and a little irritated he has to admit it. Tyson’s not not into the look. “It doesn’t end well or edibly for anyone.”

“You aren’t getting out of it for something like that,” Tyson decides. He is not caving on this.

“So you’d rather poison our students?”

“It can’t be—“

“Ask EJ,” Gabe interrupts, with a dire look on his face. It’s the look of a man who’s Seen Things. Tyson thinks a lot of things about Gabe, but he doens’t think Gabe could fake that.

But he can’t just give in. That would be, well. Giving in. So, “Fine, we’ll bake together. But I’m still not doing everything, you’re going to contribute,” he warns, and Gabe opens his mouth, then closes it again, then opens it. “I know, it’ll be tough to handle each other for that long, but it’s for the kids, Gabriel. Think of the children.”

“Um. Yeah.” Gabe swallows. He must really be dreading it. “If it means you’ll actually pull your organizational weight—”

“Sorry some of us don’t need to color code our flashcards,” Tyson rolls his eyes. He’s not going to let Gabe mess this up. He reads the first article off the to do list. “Okay, budget. All of it too chocolate. Next.” Gabe snorts, like that’s stupid, which, duh. “That was a joke, I didn’t actually mean—“

“I know,” Gabe snaps back. “That’s why I laughed.”

Tyson’s mouth snaps around his next retort. “Oh,” is all he can come up with. Which Gabe takes as a cue to start talking about his budget ideas, which definitely lean too hard into Principal Bednar’s admonition to try to keep it under cost. Tyson can definitely fix that.

7) Gabe is not saying that maybe EJ was right and if he’d just powered through earlier, everything would have been better. He’s definitely not saying that, on principle if nothing else. But—well. It does get easier, the more time he and Tyson are forced to spend together for the bake sale. It’s hard to mess up everything you say to someone when you actually have to have real conversations. He’s definitely made real jokes, not just said something sharp to make up for the fact that he doesn’t know what to say.  

And he thinks—well, Tyson actually smiled at things he said a few times. Maybe it’s hard to misinterpret everything Gabe says when you have a real conversation too.

Or maybe Gabe just looks ridiculous, with flour in his hair and probably some dough on his face and definitely looking like he has no idea what he’s doing. Probably because he doesn’t.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Tyson says, and mercifully takes the whisk away from Gabe. “You really suck at this.”

“No, I just joke about murdering children for fun,” Gabe retorts. He’s maybe pouting a little. He hates looking stupid, and he knows he does now. It’s especially bad in front of Tyson, who will definitely make fun of him for it.

“Look, we don’t yuck anyone’s yums in this house unless I need to report you to the police,” Tyson says, and Gabe chuckles, despite himself. Tyson’s smile flashes, sudden and surprised, and then he ducks his head to go back to whisking. This is the Tyson Gabe’s seen before with other people, quick with a joke and a smile, cutting but not mean-spirited. And, somehow, looking cute with the flour on his nose. And very competent. “Now get back, I think you might set off some electronics if you stay here.”

“I’m not radioactive,” Gabe retorts, but he scoots back to the island so he can watch Tyson bake. It’s safer for all concerned, probably.

“How are you so good at this?” Gabe asks. He’s had Tyson’s baked goods before, generally when Tyson’s not looking so he can’t snatch them away.

“It’s a better addiction than booze or weed,” Tyson says, half-laughing. Gabe rolls his eyes at Tyson’s back, but doesn’t say anything. “Nah, I just—I don’t know, as a kid, whenever I was bummed or whatever, my mom would have me help her bake. It made me feel like I was good at something, you know? And bonus, sweets at the end.” He sets down the bowl, then reaches over to pour what looks like a arbitrary amount of chocolate chips in.

“Then why didn’t you open a bakery or something?”

Tyosn snorts. “Come on, me, run a business? That’s not for me. I’d have to be able to find my head to do that.” The way he says it, it sounds like he’s quoting someone. It also sounds like he believes it.

Gabe must make a sound, because Tyson turns around, looking at him. “What? You know it’s true,” he says, and his lips twist, just a little. “You say it enough.”

“That’s not—“ he hadn’t known it had hit a nerve, Gabe doesn’t know how to say. He hadn’t known that Tyson actually believed it.

“It’s okay, I’ve got other skills. Like making sick baked goods. And, you know, teaching kids. Chem’s just advanced baking you can’t eat. Well, shouldn’t eat.” Tyson reaches for some Saran Wrap in a cabinet. Gabe takes the opportunity to reach in and grab some dough.

“Hey! No touching.” Tyson spins, glares. “If you’re going to eat cookie dough, use a spoon. And wait till I add the Nutella, that’s when it gets really good.”

Gabe shrugs. “It’s really good now.” He tries to put his words together, make sure they can’t be misunderstood. That he’s not accidentally poking sore spots. “I’d buy it, if you had decided to go that route.”

Tyson glances away, his cheeks stained red. “I thought you didn’t like my baking,” Tyson says, all in a rush.

“What?”

Tyson looks back up at Gabe, rolls his eyes. “You don’t eat cookies, remember?”

“What are you talking about, Tyson?”

Tyson covers the bowl carefully. “Never mind. Nothing.”

“Tyson—“

“So I think I have a task you can manage,” Tyson interrupts, loudly. “Can you put this in the fridge? I cleared a space and everything. I know it’ll really be taxing you, but I have faith.”

“Wow, thanks,” Gabe drawls, and lets it go.

8) Tyson’s just finishing up his junior lab when he hears the door open. He’d generally ignore it—these aren’t the kids he’s worried about sneaking out or whatever, these are his AP kids—but then the whispers start, spreading from the door closer to the front. He is, in the end, unsurprised to see Gabe standing near the door, looking a little sheepish and of course, unnecessarily attractive.

“Hold on a sec, then we’ll get to the good stuff,” he tells everyone, then goes over to Gabe. The whispers definitely follow him. It’s not like he doesn’t know what the kids say about him and Gabe; they’re definitely all waiting for something to blow up. Well, something other than the experiment he’d been setting up. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I thought you’d be done with class.”

Tyson glances at the clock, and, yep, oh shit. He hadn’t heard the bell. “Shit,” he mutters, too quietly for anyone other than Gabe to hear, then turns to the class. “Okay, looks like we went long. You guys can go, or you can wait a couple minutes and see what I’ve got for you. No harm no foul either way.”

A few of the kids start to pack up, but most of them stay, Tyson notes with no little bit of pride. He glances at Gabe, to see if he noticed. The kids can like him, too.

Gabe doesn’t look particularly impressed, but he doesn’t look surprised, either. He’s also just looking at Tyson.

“So is it urgent, or can it wait?” Tyson asks. Gabe blinks, like now he is surprised.

“No, I just wanted to go over some last minute things before tomorrow. It can wait.”

“Okay, cool. Stick around if you want, we’re going to blow shit up.” Gabe barks out a laugh, which gets another line of whispers down the tables.

“Sounds like fun,” Gabe says. It’s--careful? Nice? Tyson’s not sure. He thinks Gabe might be plotting something, it’s the only explanation for why Gabe’s been…easier, lately. Like, sure, they can’t fight constantly if they have to work together, Gabe has to let him do some things, but it’s…Tyson doesn’t know. Less condescending. Gabe smiles more. Laughs with him, not at him.

It makes it harder for Tyson to be on his guard, which is what makes him sure it’s a trick. Tyson knows how to be ready against Gabe’s barbs and patronizing sneers. He hadn’t been ready for his smiles. But Tyson’s strong, he’s not going to be taken in.

And right now, he needs to blow something up, so. “Okay, let’s get to it,” He says, and they do. Gabe hovers in the back as Tyson explains what he’s doing, the science behind it, then vamps a bit because he likes the drama. Everyone is appropriately impressed by the bang and multicolored smoke that comes out of the beaker, because Tyson knows how to impress an audience if nothing else, then the rest of the kids start to pack up and Gabe comes up to the front table, leans against the counter.

Tyson pushes up his safety glasses onto his forehead. Gabe snorts.

“What?” Tyson demands. “You thought that was cool, don’t front.”

“You look like a mad scientist,” Gabe informs him.

“Okay, stereotype of every hipster Lit teacher ever,” Tyson retorts, reaching up to try to smooth out his hair. “I am responsible enough to teach good lab safety.”

“I know,” Gabe says, which isn’t on script. Tyson blinks.  “It’s cute.” He reaches out to tap the glasses.

Tyson can feel himself go red. So what, a hot guy is complimenting him. It’s definitely part of a nefarious plan, but he’s only human. He has to take his ‘being complimented by guys who look like Gabe’ where he can find them.

“Whatever,” Tyson mutters, then rallies. “What do you want, anyway? This is a long way from home for you.”

“I told you, I wanted to go over some last minutes changes facilities wants.” He pulls out another one of his ridiculous printed lists.

“Okay, Landesnerd,” he says, and smirks at Gabe’s rolled eyes at the nickname. “Hit me.”

9) The bake sale is going great, if Gabe does say so himself. They managed to get plenty of teachers to participate as well as parents (not guilting, thank you Tyson, Gabe is sure), and there’s plenty of buyers. They’re going to raise a lot of money, and Bednar is definitely happy with them, given his expression as he and his wife browse the offerings.

“So you survived it?” EJ asks, sidling up to Gabe. He has a brownie in one hand and a cookie in the other. He’d been one of the people Tyson had not-guilted into contributing, so Gabe’s not sure who’s watching his booth, but that’s not Gabe’s problem anymore. “Working with Tys?”

“Somehow.” Gabe looks over to where Tyson is manning their booth. He’s laughing with one of the moms, clearly on some sort of selling spiel. He’s managed to get chocolate on his shirt. Of course.

“And you still hate him?” EJ asks. He doesn’t manage to sound very innocent. Or anything but smug.

Gabe’s not an idiot, thank you very much. And Tyson looks over, sees him watching, and grins, that big open grin like he’d had the first day they met, and it’s still just as cute as it was then.

“Shut up,” he tells EJ, and goes to sell some baked goods.

10) “So we rocked that,” Tyson informs Gabe, when everything’s all done and packed up. “Definitely beat Calgary.”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees. He sounds a little distracted, though, which is unusual for him—he was definitely on the ‘crush Calgary’ team. Tyson wipes at his mouth, because whatever’s distracting Gabe seems to be in his general face region.

“Um, earth to Gabriel? We kicked ass? Our cookies were the star of the show? Or they’re really mine, but. You can have some credit,” He allows. He’s ready to keep talking, but then Gabe blinks.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come on,” Gabe says, decisively, and he starts towing Tyson down the hall with a hand on Tyson’s wrist. Tyson sort of has to follow.

“Gabe, what are you doing? Is this part of your plot? Where you take me away and murder me?” They get to Gabe’s classroom, and he tugs Tyson in, then shuts the door. “Nate has find my friends with me, he’ll be able to find me, and he totally knows it’d be you, I—”

Then Gabe takes a step forward, so Tyson’s back is to the door, and Tyson’s mouth snaps shut. “Gabe?” He asks. He doesn’t—this is off script too. Gabe’s too close to him, all—stupidly handsome and big and his lips are like, right there, Tyson doesn’t know—

“Fuck, Tys,” Gabe mutters, then he is definitely kissing Tyson. That is a thing. That is happening. He has a hand on Tyson’s neck and the other one on the door behind Tyson and he’s an irritatingly good kisser and Tyson can’t just let that stand, so clearly he has to kiss back, show Gabe that he’s not the only one with game around here.

He doesn’t concede defeat, but he definitely does end up sagged against the wall—not because his knees give out or anything, just because the wall is conveniently there. “Oh,” he says vaguely, as Gabe continues to press kisses to his jaw, “So this is your plan?”

“What plan?” Gabe asks, and kisses Tyson again, deep and maybe a little knee-melting.

“I don’t know,” Tyson comes up with, “It’s you plan. Whatever—plan you’re doing by being nice and friendly for a change. And kissing me.”

Gabe’s head drops onto Tyson’s shoulder for a second, which is a shame because it means he’s not kissing Tyson. That should change.

Then Gabe lifts his head. “It’s not an evil plan,” he says, sounding a little exasperated. “I just want to kiss you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Um, yeah? You don’t like me.”

“You don’t like me,” Gabe corrects, and Tyson manages to roll his eyes even now.

“No, you definitely don’t like me. You were a dick to me when we met, and—“

“I was—when we met I was already nervous and then a cute guy started talking to me about his cookies and I blanked and said something that he misinterpreted,” Gabe retorts, definitely sounding exasperated now, but also—incredulous, maybe? “For the first but not the last time.”

“I—what?” That is very very off script. That isn’t—they hate each other. Right? “You didn’t eat my cookie.”

“I honestly don’t remember what I said,” Gabe laughs, a little, but doesn’t meet Tyson’s eyes. “I was—it was a lot.”

“You thought I was cute?” Tyson’s only just now hearing this. “You said—you said I talk too much.” He mutters that last part. It was a shitty thing to say, but maybe Tyson’s too sensitive, maybe—

“No, I kiss people I find really unattractive,” Gabe says, and then he does look up, meets Tyson’s gaze with those big determined baby blues. “And you do talk a lot of shit, Tys.” He keeps going before Tyson can reply to that. “It’s cute too.”

“I—what?” No one’s said that before, for sure. Even Nate like, just puts up with his babble.

Gabe groans. “Can I kiss you again?” He asks. “And then take you to dinner and work on convincing you not to hate me?”

Well. Put that way. “I suppose I can allow that,” Tyson says. He doesn’t say how he’s pretty sure that’s not going to be much of a job, any more. Instead, he tugs Gabe in to kiss him again.

11) The Great Rivalry ends, as all things must.

However, tales of the Great Romance is spread in whispers around the school. Apparently, it’s just as easy to distract Mr. Barrie by asking him about Mr. Landeskog’s dog, and to distract Mr. Landeskog by talking about Mr. Barrie’s latest antics. You can’t really get more details out of them, though sometimes if you’re around after school, you can see them working together in one of their classrooms, arguing about something with their feet hooked together under the table.

(You can still get Mr. Landeskog going about the stink bomb, though. That one’s always going to be a classic).

(They are still just as annoying to Coach Mac. But he guesses he can be happy for his friends too). 

[inkedangelhaz]

I love your writing! Can you write a harry imagine where he wakes up one morning feeling really sick and not well at all but he doesn't want to disappoint his fans and cancel a show just from sickness so he carries about his day not telling you he's feeling ill but you can tell something is off and harry is being really weird and clingy and looks sick.. eventually he feels so bad that he has to tell you? Thanks!

Not Just Allergies

You had your suspicions the night before. He had collapsed onto the couch with a warm cup of tea after he’d gotten home, and had remained mostly quiet as you cooked dinner and went about your daily activities. You’d even caught him dozing off on the couch a few times, only to be startled awake and claim he was only resting his eyes when you came into the room.

Later that night, you curled up with him on the couch to watch the episodes of your favorite show you’d missed throughout your busy weeks. He rested his head on your shoulder, letting you hold him. It was when he fell asleep, only twenty minutes into the first episode, that you thought something might be wrong.

You sighed and quickly paused the episode, pressing the home button on your phone and seeing that it was barely past 8 o'clock. Harry usually wasn’t one to go to bed this early, especially not when he knew he’d be spending the night cuddling with you on the couch and stealing kisses from your lips every time you fast-forwarded through commercials.

You rubbed his arm, trying to wake him up slowly so you could make sure he was feeling alright and find some kind of medicine if he wasn’t. He groggily opened his eyes, looking up at you with exhaustion clear on his face.

“Is everything okay?” You asked quietly, as Harry squinted at the soft light of the lamp in the room. He yawned, tipping his head back and stretching his achy limbs.

“M’ fine. I think I’m going to head up to bed, though.”

Your eyebrows narrowed, rubbing his back as he slowly escaped from your grasp and began to sit up.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? It’s still early.” You pried; the sun had barely set and the dishes from dinner were freshly sitting in the sink. On a normal day, it would be at least a few more hours until you started thinking about going to sleep. He nodded convincingly, standing up off the couch and adjusting the sweatpants on his waist.

“Just tired, that’s all. I’ve been busy.” He assured you, leaning down to kiss your temple gently.

“Finish the episode, don’t worry about coming up with me. Love you.”

You heard his footsteps fade as he made his way up the stairs, and you were left to flip through a few channels on the television until you could find something to entertain yourself with. It wasn’t long before you ended up watching some reruns, and it had barely been over an hour when you found yourself too bored to pay attention any longer. So you slowly trudged upstairs, and peeked into the bedroom before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Harry was practically hidden under the sheets, in a different way than usual. It was common for him to get tangled in the blankets while he tossed and turned throughout the night, but this time Harry had piled up layers of warm fleece on top of his body until he was practically unrecognizable beneath them. You frowned as you walked quietly into the bedroom, slipping into some pajamas and and curling up on your side of the bed, careful not to get too close in case your suspicions were correct and he was getting sick.

The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of drawers being opened and shut clumsily and you weren’t surprised to see Harry fumbling around as he tried to get ready for whatever he had on his schedule that day.

“Good morning.” You yawned, craning your neck upwards to watch him slip a shirt over his freshly showered body.

As he turned towards you, you sat up straighter to get a better look at his face. There were dark bags under his eyes, despite the fact that he’d gotten more than enough sleep, and his skin looked ghostly white. His body moved with a certain slowness, it looked like he was contemplating every step as if his body couldn’t hold him up.

He mumbled a quiet ‘good morning’ in return, rubbing his eyes miserably as he fought off the urge to fall back into the mattress and go back to sleep. You slowly got off the bed, and walked to where he was gathering a few things from the chair where he’d slung a few shirts the night before.

“Hey, mister, I think you’re sick. You’d better stay in and rest today.” You advised.

He flinched away when you reached to press your palm against his forehead, not wanting you to feel the warmth that indicated his temperature. He didn’t know for sure if he was running a fever, but based on the way he felt, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was much higher than normal.

“I’m okay. I feel fine.” He protested, making an effort to stand up straighter and appear like he wasn’t about to double over from his pounding headache and sore limbs. You raised your eyebrows, not believing for a second that he was actually okay. But you left him alone for a few seconds, while you shut the bathroom door behind you to brush your teeth.

When you came back out, Harry had slipped a sweater on over his t-shirt and pulled the sleeves down so they covered his hands.

“Baby, it’s warm outside.”

It was obvious at this point that you were concerned. Meanwhile, he was trying to convince himself that he was alright so he could convince you too.

“I’m just a bit chilly, that’s all. The water was cold in the shower this morning.”

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you knew how stubborn he could be, especially when he had something to get done. You followed him down the stairs and watched him pour himself a cup of black coffee, gulping it down and wincing when the hot liquid burned against his sore throat.

“Harry.”

“I’m fine.”

He gave you an unconvincing smile and patted your shoulder as he walked past you to grab his bag by the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home? I’ll get some blankets on the couch and we can watch a movie. I can start some tea right now too if you-”

He cut you off when he stepped forward, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to look up at his face looming over you. You could see that he just wasn’t himself; he looked completely exhausted and like he could fall apart at any second.

“I’m okay. I feel fine. I’m probably just having some kind of allergy thing, now that it’s spring. Please, baby, don’t give me that look.” He raised his eyebrows when you pouted at him. If there was any way of getting him to stay home, that was your last option.

He pulled away when you flicked your hand up and tried to reach for his forehead again; his reflexes were too quick. It was silly, really, because if there was nothing wrong with him, he’d have no problem with you pressing your hand against his forehead to judge his temperature. You knew he was hiding something, and he knew that you weren’t gullible enough to believe him when he said he was fine.

“Promise me you’ll come home if you feel too sick. I’ll come pick you up if I need to.” You gave in, rubbing his arm as you looked up at him in concern. He nodded, a small smile on his face as he took a step towards the door.

“I promise.”

You quickly hugged him goodbye, and he opted to press his lips against your cheek instead of kissing you. If there was any last confirmation you needed that he was sick, that was it. He would always give you a real kiss goodbye, which usually turned into a short make out session, before he left for the day.

As you busied yourself with things around the house, you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering to the way Harry was acting. You were starting to doubt yourself, thinking that maybe Harry really was just having a flare up of his allergies and there wasn’t anything to worry about. If that was the case, you felt bad for pressing the issue if there was never one to begin with. You’d hate to give him a hard time, but at least that way he knew you cared.

The hours ticked by slowly, and it felt like days had passed by the time you heard Harry’s keys twisting in the lock. Needless to say, you’d spent all day worrying if he was alright.

You tried to give him some space, and continued drying some dishes while you waited for him to kick off his boots and take off his jacket. However, you felt his arms wrap around you from behind sooner than you expected, and you turned around to see his sweatshirt still covering his body and his shoes still on his feet. His nose was red, his eyes looked puffy with exhaustion, and his face was even more pale than it had been that morning.

“Baby…” You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your warmth, closing his eyes in comfort and sniffling softly. You wanted so badly to say 'I told you so’, but you knew that wasn’t what he needed to hear. He already knew you’d been right.

This time, he didn’t flinch away when you pressed your palm to his head and felt it burning under your touch. Instead, he looked you in the eyes, nearly begging for you to make him feel better. You’d heard it a million times that men were babies when they’re sick, and Harry was definitely no different. There were times when he was able to push past it and get on with his day, like he had that morning, but he always needed a warm pair of arms to hold him and take care of him at the end of the day.

“Go get out of those skinny jeans, okay? I’ll start the tea.” You smiled sympathetically and tried to turn around, but Harry wasn’t having it. He grabbed your wrist, holding your hand against his cheek and letting out a soft whine. Although you should’ve found it annoying, it only made you want to wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle him against your chest like the big baby he was.

“Sweetheart, just let me get the tea, okay? Once you get changed I won’t leave your side the rest of the night, I promise.”

He hesitated, but slowly backed away and trudged up the stairs to change. You got busy with the tea, thankful that he was moving slowly so you had enough time to finish before he returned.

You felt him next to you, his body radiating even more heat than usual, and he dropped his head against your shoulder as you poured some tea into a big mug.

“Good?” You asked, cautiously handing him the tea and looking up at him. He nodded slowly, muttering a soft 'thank you’.

“Let’s get you all comfy on the couch, okay? We can put on a movie if you want.”

He clung to your hand as you walked over to the couch, tightening his grip whenever you tried to pull away to do something. You managed to lay some blankets on the couch and fluff the pillows with only one hand, letting him hold onto you. You knew he must be feeling pretty bad if he was that clingy.

“Wanna be the little spoon.” He sniffled, looking at you with the most innocent expression you swore you were going to melt into a giant puddle on the carpet.

You nodded, laying down first and opening your arms, letting him snuggle his back against you. Propping your head up on some pillows so you could see over his broad back, you handed him the remote so he could pick a movie and let your hands rest over his stomach. The couch wasn’t big, and you were somewhat afraid he’d roll off the edge if he wasn’t pressed so close against you. You slung a warm blanket over you both as you felt him shiver and rubbed his arm gently. His body was stuck so tightly against you so you could feel his slightly labored breathing, and felt his chest rise with each sniffle and cough.

You pressed your lips to his head as he reached for your hand under the blanket. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wasn’t paying attention to the movie that was playing, especially when he flipped around in your arms so his face was nuzzled into your shoulder. With a loud sniffle, he sighed and clung to your body tighter.

“I don’t feel good at all.” He moaned.

You pouted and rubbed your hand over the soft fabric of his shirt, and kissed his forehead again.

“I know, baby. Try to get some sleep. I think it would help.” You whispered, pulling the blanket up slightly so his body was covered and warm.

“Don’t go.” He whined, clutching you tighter and coughing into your neck. You winced, picturing the germs splattering onto your skin, but you stayed as still as you could. You weren’t about to deny Harry comfort.

“I wont, I promise. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He didn’t want to fall asleep, but it was getting hard to fight the urge when he was just so tired and you were so warm and comfy. With your arms around him and his body warm from the tea and blanket, he found it impossible to stay awake any longer.

You couldn’t even complain when his loud snores nearly burst your eardrums, because he was clearly exhausted and all he needed was your warmth and comfort to make things a little better.

[kythe42]

Today has just been a crappy day overall and I need to vent about a few things.

Today I went to see a new specialist because my ENT hasn’t been having much luck treating some of my symptoms(intense ear/sinus pressure sometimes with nausea/dizziness that comes on due to various triggers, but sometimes a specific trigger can’t be identified), and he wanted me to see an allergist that also has an immunology speciality.

The doctor himself was friendly enough, but I was less than impressed with the way that office was run. First of all, I was already annoyed that I had to be there much earlier in the day that I wanted to be. It’s very difficult to get myself moving in the morning, and having to rush around early to get ready to leave the house when I’m barely awake is very anxiety provoking. I know that this is my problem and not theirs, but it just sucked that it was the only time that really worked logistically.

So anyway, after they finally called me back, they wanted to do a lung function test, which I hadn’t been expecting, but I’ve done them plenty of times before, so it didn’t seem like a big deal, Unfortunately, my results on those tests vary depending on where I have it done. My results have always sucked at the ENTs office, but done at the pulmonologist’s office my results would be fine because different equipment was used. So the equipment they had was similar to what was used at the ENTs office and therefore my results sucked. They wanted me to use an inhaler and then redo the test. The inhaler they wanted me to use is one that I’ve had bad reactions to and I even stated so on the new patient forms which I submitted online several days before my appointment. So they knew it was listed as a drug allergy, and they knew which inhaler I normally use from talking to me on the phone. If they didn’t have my inhaler brand in the office, and had no plans to obtain it, they should have contacted me to make sure that I had my own with me. I did have mine with me, but since I haven’t needed it in over a year, it was expired and they wouldn’t let me use it for the test. If I knew in advance that I’d be needing it, I would have gotten it refilled from the doctor that prescribed it. The allergist said he’d call in a prescription for me so we could redo that test on my next visit. I told him my insurance wouldn’t cover it without prior authorization, and he said he’d just call it in anyway and then if it was rejected he’d do the prior authorization. I don’t know why he couldn’t just do it to begin with. I’m like 90% sure it’s going to be rejected because it’s a more expensive inhaler. It’s like he’s wilfully choosing to waste time.

Anyway, after the lung function test, I had to wait in the back waiting room outside the doctor’s office(separate from the front waiting room in reception) and shortly after sitting down back there, I started having a reaction to something, and the same sort of reaction that I was going there to get a second opinion about. I got this intense pressure in my ears that was really painful, and I was starting to feel a bit nauseous and light-headed. I didn’t think I smelled anything, but I asked some of the staff if there were any air fresheners around, and they said no, that it was against office policy and that they weren’t allowed to wear perfume or anything. Looking around I really couldn’t find anything that I thought would be the culprit. I started wondering about the potted tree at the end of the hall because I read that mold can grow on the soil of potted plants, but if that was the problem, there’s a good chance it would be a problem with the potted plants at home, too, so I ruled that out. Honestly, it could have been from some product that another patient was wearing earlier. The smell might have faded, but remnants of the chemicals could have still lingered in the air for hours afterwards.

I never did figure out what it was, but as I was checking out, I saw a sign on the wall next to the reception desk that I hadn’t noticed earlier which asked patients to refrain from wearing perfume/cologne. I said to the receptionist that I just noticed the sign and I never wear that stuff cause I’m allergic, but I wanted to know why no one had informed me not to wear that stuff before I came to the office. I said that a fragrance free office policy doesn’t really work if people aren’t notified before they get there. She said that they just hoped people would see the sign and then refrain from using those products the next time they came in. I seriously wanted to facepalm at that. I told her that they really should inform people before they come in so that they don’t trigger other patients. She said they’d take that under advisement, but I don’t have much confidence that anything will get done. Just my best working theory is that I was reacting to some product another patient had been using that lingered in the air after they left, since I’ve found no other explanation, and it just sucks that I have to be afraid of getting sick in an allergy clinic because they really aren’t enforcing their own policies.

Then backtracking a bit when I had the skin prick test done, I didn’t really react to anything other than the control prick. This really isn’t a good test for me since out of the other three times I’ve had this test done, I only actually had skin reactions to allergens once despite the fact that I’ve been having reactions to things like grass, mold, and dust for well over a decade. The last place I had it done performed an additional intradermal test were they actually injected the allergens deeper under the skin. I assumed that this was going to be done today since they told me I had to be there for three hours, but nope, I have to come back next month for that. So I’m really pissed off about that. not just at the inconvenience of having to come back, but because I’ll have to go off of my allergy meds again and suffer again for several days with painful pressure between my eyes and the nausea that goes along with it. The doctor suggested switching to another med that I only have to stop three days before the testing, and I guess I’ll try it, but I don’t know yet how effective it will be for my symptoms, and the best case scenario is that I’ll still be suffering for a few days when this could have and should have been taken care of today.

So yeah, this clinic just really didn’t make a good first impression on me overall, but unfortunately it was the only one I could find in the area that accepted my insurance, and I’d have to go a lot further to find someone else that does. Here’s hoping they can actually figure out a way to help me after all of the testing is done because it seems I’m having more and more problems, both at home, and out in public. I won’t hold my breath, though.

Then, as if my day wasn’t crappy enough, there was an incident with the medical transportation service I use. The company has been made aware that I have a severe allergy to fragrances, and that air fresheners are not to be used on the buses that I’m riding. So I got on the bus after it arrived at the clinic and didn’t see any air fresheners. I did think I smelled something off, but I wasn’t really sure so I didn’t say anything. Then after being on the bus for awhile I started feeling really ill. I got that severe pain in my ears, I became nauseous, and at some point my eyes started burning and my throat felt a bit tight. I told the driver that I was feeling really sick and asked if there were any air freshers on the bus. She said there was before but she took it down. I said so it’s not on the bus anymore? She said that it was in the trashcan. I told her that there was no difference between having the air freshener in an open topped trashcan and having it hanging up and that really there shouldn’t have been any air fresheners on the bus at all that day before I got on, because the smell tends to linger in and enclosed space. Actually, putting it in the trashcan was worse because it wasn’t visible to me, so I got on the bus without even knowing what I was walking into. The driver actively tried to hide the fact that it was there. She then snapped at me that I’d been added to her schedule last minute and that she had no where else to put it. Really, if she saw on my file on her tablet that I had this allergy and that there was air freshener on the bus, she should have called dispatch to tell them that she couldn’t take me and to have them get another driver to come. I said that I was feeling really sick like I was about to throw up, and that I couldn’t be on the bus with that thing. So she agreed to bump me to the top of the list before the other passenger on the bus and took me home first.

She did apologize after taking me home, and all I could really say was that she should have informed me of the situation before I got on so that I would have had the option to refuse the ride. She said she’d do that next time. I don’t know, I guess it’s just stupidity/lack of common sense on her part, but the fact that she knowingly let me get on the bus with an airborne substance she knew I was allergic to feels like assault, especially since it’s much more serious than a case of the sniffles. I’m definitely going to be filing a complaint about this, but I’ll probably hold off until I can speak to my social worker tomorrow, since I’ll probably come off way too abrasive if I try to do it on my own. I feel like the way they do things, they really aren’t going to be able to keep me safe unless they flat out ban air fresheners on the buses. It’s just too hard for them to try to make sure there aren’t air fresheners on the specific buses I’ll be on for any given day, especially if they keep changing the schedules around last minute.

Just I need them to take this more seriously. I am in the process of trying to see if there are other treatments for this sort of reaction, but so far I’m just being told to avoid my triggers by every doctor I’ve consulted about this over the years, because each exposure is just going to make it worse. Really, it’s a toxic reaction that affects the nervous system instead of or in addition to an allergy, but most people don’t understand what that means, so I just say allergy even if that doesn’t really explain the whole story. I rely heavily on this service to be able to get to doctor’s appointments, and I need to be able to ride the buses without being poisoned. If I have to, I might even try to get the American’s with Disabilities Act involved. I just know it’s probably going to be an uphill battle. I practically had to threaten them with a lawsuit just to get them to make any effort at accommodations to begin with after I nearly ended up in the ER after being trapped on a bus with multiple air fresheners.

I’m sure it sounds unreasonable to people that I’m putting all of the burden on others to keep me safe, but honestly I’m doing all I can do on my end and it isn’t enough. I do have meds I can take to deal with the asthma portion of the reaction, but it doesn’t help with the other stuff, and I can’t avoid exposure like my doctors keep telling me to if I don’t have cooperation from other people. I can’t even try to protect myself by wearing a mask because once hot humid air builds up inside of the thing from my own breath, I can’t breathe with it on. Maybe an oxygen tank/mask that would keep bringing me a supply of cool fresh air would help, but my insurance isn’t going to cover that, and I’m not sure I’d even be able to lug something like that around without help.