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waterfallofspace · 8 months

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Curiosities & Consequences

Happy birthday to @onetrickponi !!! I hope you have an amazing day today, andddd here's a lil gift for you!~

Tried to combine two things from your wishlist, "Anything where one character hears the other sneeze for the first time and they talk about it...extensively" as well as "#74 and #75 for A.ngo" Hopefully it turned out okay!~

Word Count: 4k Characters: A/ngo and O/da Set In the Dark Era, miiild b/sd spoilers, so proceed with caution!

“ihH’YTCHhew!”

The noise cuts through the quiet bar, seeming to echo off every empty glass, being passed around like a ping pong ball of unfortunate timing. Oda’s glass stops swirling in his hand, the only outward indication he heard it. But god, how could he have missed it.

Ango slowly removes the hand from his face, tilting his glasses down to clear the fog before Oda can notice how deep the heat soaks into his cheeks. It’s too late, of course. He’s trained to notice, and it’s not like anything about that was subtle.

They stay frozen in that moment, Ango’s eyes hidden as they scan Oda for any indication of reaction. Maybe they’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen..? He’d always been so careful, especially around Dazai, if that man caught even an ounce of weakness, well… cat’s aren’t the only thing that play with their food before devouring it. But Oda never seemed the type for that sort of playful torture, at least not when Dazai wasn’t around.

“Bless you, Ango.”

It’s simple enough, not an indication there’s a conversation to be had, or a trap being set. Cautiously, Ango lifts a hand in reply, letting a light sniffle break free before speaking, attempting to conclude the interaction.

“Thank you.”

There’s silence again for a bit, broken only by the ice clinking against the filled glass as Oda resumes his careful swirls. Ango finds himself strangely mesmerized as the liquor catches the edge, gaining speed with each swirl. Surely they will spill out. Yet, Oda’s fingers twitch, bringing the glass to a new angle, keeping every drop in their place.

“Never heard that before,” Oda says, the volume indicating it was meant to be heard, though his eyes never leave the glass.

Ango takes a sip of his own drink, wishing it was something a lot stronger, more alcoholic. After a few painstaking minutes of silence, it becomes more apparent that he’s waiting for a reply.

“Never heard what?” Ango offers, prompting the beginning of a discussion. One he’s almost certain he doesn’t want to have.

“I mean, it’s common enough with Dazai. He’s quite sensitive in general, but more than that, he goes and makes a production of each one,” Oda trails off, the ghost of a smile lighting up the corners of his mouth.

“Is that so,” Ango replies, careful to steady his hand as he takes another sip. This conversation is going exactly where he thought it might, but hoped it wouldn’t. Perhaps he can steer it more towards Dazai. He’s off on a mission, and while there’s no doubt he’ll return, unharmed, bored as ever, and with a few new gruesome stories, Oda’s worried for him.

Oda nods slowly, taking another long sip. “I know you’ve noticed too.”

“Hard not to,” Ango agrees, memories playing on a screen behind his eyes. “He really does like attention, doesn’t he?”

“Only the right kinds. Not alone in that, is he?”

Ango pauses, taking note of how Oda’s eyes still haven’t left his drink. There’s no indication in his tone that anything has changed. No move has been made, no chess piece shifted, and yet… the air gets thinner as Ango attempts to suck in a breath.

Silence seems the safest bet, any response will simply be taken as a continuation, and Oda’s more likely to drop it without interaction. Counterpart to the young executive who will continue pestering until he gets what he wants.

“Always figured you’d be more subdued. Pent up, I guess.”

Perhaps he’s been taking lessons. Dazai seems the type to teach his annoyances, eager to show Oda something new. For that matter, eager to show anyone something new. Silence is off the table, it would only make this worse, Oda doesn’t seem ready to drop it.

Resigning himself with a sigh, Ango offers a light hum in reply. There wasn’t a question to answer, though one is sure to follow.

“Are your sneezes always so desperate?”

Despite the preparation, this catches him off guard. Ango raises his eyes, glass hitting the table with more force than he intended as he finds another set waiting to meet him. Oda gives him a look. Calculating, yet… amused?

“I- What..?” Ango stutters out, not one to be lost for words, he attempts to find the string that will pull him back into the conversation with ease. For once, it seems to lead nowhere, continuing to sputter out beginnings to a sentence, never catching a grasp of the middle.

Mercifully, Oda pulls him from the spiral, eyes still resting in Ango’s. “I always figured it would be more like the boss. Something subdued, polite even. With him, you can tell it’s holding back more, but it’s still quiet enough that you don’t pay it any mind.”

“You’ve given this quite some thought,” Ango manages, composure hanging on by a thread as Oda repositions himself, hand against his chin, glass long abandoned on the table.

“I guess it’s something about patterns, predicting things, understanding how people work. Keeps you safe in this line of work,” comes Oda’s reply, eyes still holding Ango’s. Searching for something?

“Analyzing people’s sternutations provides you a sense of safety?” Ango says, humour masking the barely hidden embarrassment starting to take its place within his cheeks.

“Not quite.”

“What’s the point then, if I may ask?”

Oda stops, blinks, and regards Ango with a newfound sense of confusion. As if the answer is something obvious, something they both knew, and Ango was playing the fool. It’s not as if Ango is new to the part, but in this drama, he’s simply playing himself.

Amusement takes over where the confusion drifts off, Oda letting out a chuckle. Ango can’t help the smile that jumps into his eyes at this, laughter from Oda was always contagious.

“I suppose,” Oda begins, finally letting his gaze drop back to his glass, “curiosity. You’re something of a mystery to me, though I guess in this line of work everyone is in one way or another.”

“Well, then I suppose…” Ango takes in a breath, unsure why he’s about to offer this, and even less so why it feels so easy when it’s Oda. “I’ll indulge your curiosity for the night. I have no better plans, I don’t have another meeting till after Dazai returns.”

Oda takes another calculated sip before turning back to Ango, a smile across his face. It’s plain, not overly joyful, no flashing teeth or beaming eyes, and yet… it’s the purest form of happiness Ango has ever seen.

“I’ll repeat my question from before, are they always so desperate?”

“No, they are not.”

Oda doesn’t reply, simply watching Ango with that look that almost feels predatory, in a way that doesn’t set off a single alarm. It’s a comfortable sort of being watched, as if he’s already seen through you, and is just waiting for what comes next.

After enough time it becomes clear an explanation is required, not simply an answer.

“I suppose they always have that… power?” Ango begins, eyes flicking back to his drink as he once more longs for a stronger kick. “No, power’s not the right word.”

“Desperation,” Oda offers.

“Irritation,” Ango continues, feeling the ghost of a flutter begin to spread. Damn this all. “Though, you weren’t incorrect with the assumption they’d normally be more controlled.”

“Like the boss. Dazai called it stifling, I was just going with suppression.”

“He’s not incorrect,” Ango takes a pause to sip his drink and mentally curse the executive for his wide ranging knowledge. “I do normally… stifle. I find it draws less attention, makes it easier to maintain composure-”

“-And the upper hand,” Oda cuts in with, eyes once more flickering up to meet Ango’s.

“Correct. Though, there are a few downsides, or situations where it’s not ideal to suppress them so dramatically.”

Oda pauses, eyes tracing Ango’s face, analyzing. Finding weakness- no. Not looking for weaknesses… just, looking. For what? He always seems to be doing that, looking for something not quite there.

Sure, he looks for the trap too, tries to see the danger, but… it’s more than that. It’s as if there’s another world, just outside ours, and he’s always watching it. It always did feel like that with those two. There was a world Dazai lived in, one Oda was watching, but Ango could never quite see.

“And those would be?” Oda breaks through Ango’s thoughts, voice even as ever.

“Well, there’s a couple answers to that. When it comes to downsides of stifling, it varies person to person. I find that I often get a headache if I continue for too long, though people like the boss don’t seem to share that struggle.”

Oda chuckles, quietly offering, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Electing to ignore the interruption, Ango continues. “Some people, like Dazai, seem to be unable to stop until they let it out fully. Though, I’m not exactly an expert on that, I’ve only seen it twice with him.”

It’s easier when talking about someone else, when it’s just observing patterns. Maybe that’s why Oda was able to pursue this conversation without hesitation. Oda, for his part, seems to be soaking it all in. Perhaps taking mental notes, or just considering everything said. Either way, Ango can’t help but feel he’s a bit too interested for a conversation such as this.

Lost in thought, Ango doesn’t feel it coming until, once again, it’s too late to prevent it.

“hh’ieHTNG– shiew!”

The stifle is barely contained, the breathy end of the sneeze still slipping out between Ango’s tented hands. It was desperate too, loud, and there’s no longer a chance the conversation doesn’t move back to him.

“Bless you again,” Oda says, voice decidedly even.

“Tha-k you,” Ango replies, voice decidedly not.

“So, that was you stifling?” Oda asks, not waiting a second to let Ango compose himself once more. “I figured with how much you say you do it, you’d be better at it.”

“Normally I am,” Ango retorts, a touch of offense plaguing his words. “It just… caught me off guard.”

“Twice?”

It’s phrased as a question, but no answer is required. This version of taunting he may not have learned from Dazai, but it’s most certainly a skill Dazai was happy to nurture.

“I was not… expecting the irritation today. It’s natural for the human body to release a sternutation from time to time without a catalyst to set it off, and I am much more prepared when it’s one of those-”

Oda holds up a finger, Ango pausing his sentence. After a sip, Oda asks, “Shouldn’t those be what you’re not prepared for? There’s no indication they’re coming, unlike when you’re sick or run into somethin’ that sets you off.”

“I suppose it’s more complicated than simple ‘expectations’. It’s more… desperation, as you put it. When it’s a natural one, I find it more tolerable. I can usually hold it off, or if not, stifling is an easy way to contain it.”

Oda nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“If it’s from an illness, or allergen, those are a lot more… desperate. They’re your immune system reacting to something as a threat, and taking precautions to avoid further assault.”

“So,” Oda adds, locking eyes once more. “You’re saying that you find it harder to stifle the sneezing when you’re allergic to something?”

“I- I suppose so, yes.” Ango says, feeling the heat flood his cheeks again as the hypothetical becomes direct.

“And so you’re having an allergic response tonight?” Oda asks, eyes beginning to scan the bar, obviously for something new that could be setting this off.

“Yes, I assume they’ve changed the cleaning products for the bar recently.”

Debating a lie, Ango decides to go for the truth, hoping it’ll satisfy the curiosity before this gets even more unbearable. The more they talk about it, the deeper he can feel the itch beginning to crawl.

“I didn’t smell anything different, though I guess I wasn’t exactly looking for it either,” Oda offers, obviously testing the air. Ango finds himself doing the same out of instinct, before realizing the error.

“hH’INCh! nGT’ch!”

“Didn’t you just say that hurt?”

Ango manages a watery gaze, seeing something in Oda’s expression… concern? He doesn’t have time to think about it for long before the tickle seizes him again, ducking into his wrist with one, two, three, four tight expulsions, stifled damn near silently.

The headache threatening to form begins to pulse against his temples, sigh escaping through gritted teeth. When he’s sure enough the fit has ended, Ango leans back, waiting for the next comment from his drinking partner.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, Ango finds himself in a long silence, once more only the clinking of ice against glass breaking up his thoughts. It’s not like he wanted a blessing, or a conversation, or god forbid a taunt, but… the silence is somehow worse.

“Sorry”, Ango finds the apology slipping out, despite… not quite knowing what he’s sorry for.

There’s another long pause, before Oda finally breaks through the tension. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do it?”

Nearly choking on his drink, Ango coughs out a shaky “Wh-what?” before meeting Oda’s unwavering gaze. There’s a determination in it, and… that same concern.

“Why do it? If it hurts, and it’s just us here, why stifle them?”

“Matter of habit, I guess,” Ango offers, the embarrassment starting to spill over into his ears.

The answer seems to satisfy Oda, a more peaceful quiet falling over the bar. At least for a minute, until Oda breaks it again, voice softer this time.

“You don’t have to do that with me.”

Ango gives him a look, trying to catch the trap before he falls into it. Still, despite being unreadable as ever, Oda’s expression is… soft. Almost, gentle?

“I don’t have to…?”

“Stifle, I mean. I’ve already heard you sneeze, fully I mean, and well… I already know you’re allergic, what’s the point in hiding it?” Oda offers, glancing back at Ango with that same softness. It’s a look usually reserved for Dazai, and Ango can’t help but feel… strangely honoured that he received the same one.

“Oh. I… suppose you’re correct,” Ango replies, raising an eyebrow as Oda begins to chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“Just, always thought you and Dazai were the smart ones, and yet I always find myself explaining the most basic concepts to you two. I guess even geniuses have gaps in their knowledge.”

Oda’s still laughing, a sound so foreign to his normal composure, and within seconds Ango feels himself joining in. Every ounce of careful caution begins to flood from him with the laughter, till the bar is filled with sounds of joy. You’d never guess they were two members of one of the most dangerous operations in the country, in that moment, they were just two friends sharing a laugh over drinks.

~~~~~

It’s a few days later when the two find themselves alone in Lupin once again. This time Dazai simply skipped the meeting, citing ‘annoyances of a higher degree to attend to’. They hadn’t asked what he meant, and he hadn’t offered. At first Ango was planning to skip as well, it was Dazai who had insisted they meet so soon anyways, but he felt bad leaving Oda all alone.

Within minutes of sitting down, Ango had felt the itch begin to spread again, faster this time than the last. With a touch of desperation, his eyes had scanned the bar and, to his horror, found the cleaning supplies still sitting out. Thankfully Oda hadn’t arrived yet, so the first few fits were had in relative peace. The bartender had excused himself to another room after the first burst, most likely out of pity.

It didn’t take long for the itch to begin spreading over his entire face, eyes watering as the tickle grew with each passing moment. He was just getting ready to text Oda that he couldn’t make it tonight when low and behold, the man showed up.

If Oda noticed the state Ango was in, he didn’t mention it, simply sat down and began to sip the drink already waiting for him. Already preparing his excuses, Ango began to stand, before freezing.

The tickle began its slow crawl, dancing up his nose, fluttering around his nostrils, that slow, painstaking itch, the one that meant this next fit was going to be desperate, itchy, and intense.

“So what are we celebrating tonight?” With either the worst, or perhaps best, timing, Oda chose this moment to speak up, turning towards Ango.

Words far beyond his reach at this stage, Ango can only cast a watery gaze towards Oda, nose twitching of its own volition. Oda meets his gaze with a calculated look, before offering him some kindness and turning away.

“ngTChh!”

The first is carefully stifled, jolting his whole body with the force of it. As the second begins to form, Oda is on his feet, moving with a speed and grace Ango rarely sees. When he stops, he’s standing before Ango, fingers gripping his arm.

“You remember what we said about stifling?”

The question isn’t expected, and Ango finds the sneeze backing away for a minute from sheer surprise. It doesn’t last long, the pinprick tickles spreading across the bridge, and with a desperate nod, he turns away from Oda, folding into his arm.

“ihh’tyEYShhew! heHh– yEHTSHh’iew! ihTSHhh’iEW!”

They’re pitchy, desperate, and leave him doubled over. Still, despite that, for the first time since he entered the bar, Ango breathes a sigh of relief as the tickle seems satisfied.

“That must be one hell of an itch,” Oda chuckles, taking his seat once more and gesturing for Ango to be seated as well.

“It’s one hell of an allergy,” Ango finds himself replying, seating himself back in the stool, acutely aware he’s leaning against the allergen itself.

“Seems so. And you waited here anyways?”

“We had plans,” Ango says, letting a sniff break free. He regrets it instantly as the fire lights in his sinuses once more.

“iTCHhew! tSChhh– iew!”

“Bless. Those don’t sound as desperate, maybe letting them out helps after all?” Oda says, eyes meeting Ango’s with a flicker of amusement.

“It’s highly probable,” Ango replies, letting a finger scrub under his nose. His nostrils flare at the touch, breath starting to waver again.

“Tickles when you do that?”

The question is sudden, and Ango feels heat flood his cheeks instantly. “Wh- what?”

“Rub your nose like that. It usually stops the itch for me, but given how your nose is trembling, I’m guessin’ it just makes it itch more?”

It’s still phrased as a question, seeking an answer, waiting for Ango to answer. He finds his words lost, finger still pressed under his nose as the tickle, ignorant to his embarrassment, continues to grow.

“W-well… I don’t… I think-” Ango stutters, at a loss for words as Oda studies him.

Finally the itch decides for him, tired of being held back, and he finds himself ducking away with another quick burst. The first is subdued, muffled against his sleeve, but by the third the desperation is back, pitchy, with almost a whine to them.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Oda, who wipes the smirk from his face when Ango glares at him through steamed glasses.

“Sorry, sorry. Bless again. I guess that answers my question.”

“I suppose so,” Ango manages to choke out, a harsh sniff managing to stem the tide for now. But given he’s practically bathing in a chamber of allergen, it won’t be subdued for long.

“So,” Oda starts, leaning closer with that same graceful speed. “What if I do this?”

His finger brushes Ango’s nose, the soft contact eliciting a whine before Ango can even process the interaction. Ango feels the blush spread to his ears, eyes wide as he fumbles for words.

“Wh- why are you… what are- hieHhh–”

“Does it tickle when I do this?” Oda asks, voice even and measured, despite the position he’s placed himself in.

Ango can barely think through the maddening itch, thoughts bouncing around with no real train to speak of. Oda’s finger begins to move gently, back and forth, tears springing to Ango’s eyes.

Why would he do this? This is something Dazai would do. I’m gonna sneeze. Is he testing a theory? Is it because I didn’t answer his question? I’m gonna sneeze.

Soon one thought becomes overwhelming, ‘have to sneeze’. With the last sense of decorum he has left, Ango manages to push himself away from Oda, only having time to duck into his wrist as the sneezes begin to break free.

“iTChh– nnCHhh– ihHTChheEW! ahyESHHh’iew!”

“Bless you,” Oda offers, voice still contained, as if he wasn’t solely to blame for this outburst.

“tiEShhh’iew! hH– AHTSHh’ew!”

“Bless again.”

“ngtchh! ah’dngtch! ngtt! nGT! eh’dGnt!”

The fit trails off into desperate stifles, each one barely audible, no real power behind them, but overwhelmingly itchy. As Ango takes a breath, finally getting a break long enough to open his eyes, he soaks in the concern etched on Oda’s face.

Despite this being entirely his fault, Ango still feels the urge to reassure him.

“I’b- eh’tcHHhew! Id’s- hH’YETchh’ew! Sorry, I’b okay- eH’TSSHh– shiew!”

With a final breath, the itch swells, and Ango turns into his arm for a final, desperate sneeze, scraping the edges of his throat. As he lets a few light coughs spill out, he turns back to Oda, who has apparently been speaking.

“-test a theory. Guess I’ve picked up too much from Dazai, I just… didn’t expect that type of reaction. Are you alright, Ango?”

“I-” Ango begins, voice breaking immediately. After another cough, and sip of the water Oda holds out to him, Ango tries again, waving off the concerned look Oda’s throwing his way. “I’m alright, really. It’s okay, you had no way of knowing it would cause… that.”

Oda chuckles a bit, though his eyes still hold the concern. “I suppose not, but still. I’ve seen Dazai when he’s stuck in a room with dust for too long…”

They both shudder at the memory, Ango mentally cursing the executive again for that book situation.

“I should have put the pieces together. Besides, it’s not as if you’re exactly looking…” Oda trails off, gesturing vaguely to Ango’s face.

“A bit rude, given this was your fault,” Ango scoffs, letting the smile show in his eyes when a light blush dusts Oda’s cheeks.

“Sorry about that again.”

“It’s alright, really. A fit like that was bound to happen, regardless of your interference. Besides,” Ango offers, taking his turn to blush. “It wasn’t exactly the first one I’ve had while in here.”

“Is that why we’re alone here? I thought it was a bit weird there was no one to tend the bar,” Oda chuckles, smile spreading further as Ango groans lightly.

“I think he pitied me, wanted to give me a hint of false privacy.”

“You do look pretty rough,” Oda observes, rising from the bar once more. “Why don’t we get out of here? Dazai’s the one who wanted to meet anyways, and he didn’t even bother to show up. No use tormenting you.”

Ango stands too, but pauses for a second, glancing down at the ice slowly melting in Oda’s drink. Despite the itch, despite the embarrassment, despite everything…

“At least finish your drink first, I’m not one to waste liquor.”

Oda seems surprised, but follows Ango’s lead and sits down again.

“You sure about this? I’d think you want to go home and sleep the reaction off.”

With a smile, Ango meets Oda’s gaze. “I guess there are still some basic concepts you need explained too.”

Despite the explanation never following, the message is well understood. Silence falls over the bar once more, broken only by the clinking of ice against glass, and a handful of desperate sneezes.

Ango wouldn’t have it any other way.

#waterfallwrites #happy birthday poniii!~ I hope this is alright hahaha~#you are such a sweet person and such a light in this community!#and even more than that you have SO much talent #in so many things!! and we're all SO honoured and lucky that you're a part of this community #and choose to share your talents with us!~#but more than that- we're just lucky to get to know you! and that you choose to share yourself with us #I am so honoured to call you a friend~#snzkink #snzfic #snz #a/ngo #o/da #b/sd #b/ungo s/tray d/ogs

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