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perfectpaperbluebirds · 1 year

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would you be willing to write for ryan from the office again? :)

Ryan Howard is super sick. A new coworker takes care of him and helps him with his congestion. CW: Induced sneezing (non-kink).

So I know canonically Ryan is a selfish, egotistical ass who never learns from his mistakes, but I can just imagine him being a little more subdued and boyish and eager to please when he first starts his fancy corporate job, and even more so if he finds himself miserably sick. For that reason, this story is set within the first few weeks of him leaving the Scranton branch and starting his new role. Mess warning, definitely more than I usually write. It was egg week when I wrote most of this, so no apologies. This also refers to sn*t and other less “pretty” snz words often, because that’s how I imagine Ryan would think about them.

To the anon who requested, sorry as always for the long wait. Winter sucks the writing juice out of me without fail. At least it’s extra long anyway. Hope this is somewhat what you were looking for.

Based on this post by @nobodybetterlookatme

Prompts used (from this old prompt list):

🦠 sniffles

🤧 sick for the holidays

What A Lovely Way to Burn

Ryan Howard scrubbed his hands over his face for the third or fourth time that hour, noting yet again how cold his hands felt against his cheeks. He sniffled, coughed, hating the grating sound it made and how much it hurt his head and throat. He had hardly put his hands down when a demanding itch flared up in his sinuses and he scrambled to grab a tissue.

"KZZT'choo! KHGGZT'choo!!" The thick, stifled sneezes had unpleasantly shifted all the congestion in his head, and he blew what felt like a gallon of slime out of his nose.

"You've been in New York for two weeks in the middle of summer, and you're already sick?" came a laughing voice from nearby. Ryan jumped, shoving the nasty tissue out of sight hurriedly. A hot girl, in fact that hottest girl here, the one that had caught his attention from the first day, was standing in front of his desk. Actually, leaning on it would be more accurate. She smirked at him flirtatiously, taking in his barely-unpacked desk and sickly, disheveled appearance. "Happy fourth of July, by the way."

"Yep. Happy fourth of July. Sick for the most random holiday. Call me lucky, I guess," he said, wishing he could pronounce the consonants properly.

"New York has that effect on people. Sorry about your luck, Lucky. My name's Tiffani. With an I.

"Nice to meet you, Tiffani with an I. And my name isn't actually Lucky. It's Ryan."

"I noticed." She nodded to the shiny nameplate on the front of his desk that had just arrived that morning. "Well Ryan Howard, VP of Northeast Sales, you are clearly a walking health hazard. What the hell are you doing here if you're sick?"

"I mean you said it yourself," he croaked. "I haven't even been here two weeks yet. It would look so bad if I called in already."

"Hmm." Before he realized what she was doing, her cool hand was pressed against his forehead. She made a soft sound in her throat, then suddenly both her hands were gently cupping his cheeks.

"You have a fever. Poor thing," she cooed, gently running her thumbs over his cheek bones.

He sniffled wetly, then coughed. "That's no big deal. I just hate that I can't stop coughing and sneezing."

"Aww, honey. You should be in bed," she said sternly.

"Trust me, I wish I was. But I just… I can't. Now's not the right time."

"Hmm," she said again, scrutinizing him. "If you say so. Have you eaten?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I'm not hungry. I can't taste anything, so–"

"Well that doesn't matter. You still need to eat. Wait here."

He watched her go, feeling a little breathless from everything that had transpired in the past five minutes, snotty cold notwithstanding.

Tiffani was gone longer than he expected (though he really had no idea what to expect), so he was attempting to work once more when a box of tissues hit him in the arm, nearly making him leap out of his seat. He glanced up to find Tiffani smirking at him yet again, holding a styrofoam takeout container.

"I said your name twice and you didn't even look up. Are you always this easy to scare?"

"No," he said sullenly. "My ears are all plugged up with everything else. And I was trying to concentrate."

"My apologies. I didn't realize you were so busy and important. Guess I'll take back the stuff I got you if you don't want it…."

He quickly pulled the desperately-needed box of tissues out of her reach. These weren't the crappy industrial office ones he'd been using either–they were the premium lotion ones.

"No, I want it," he said quickly. "Thank you. For bringing them."

"That's only half of it." She set down the styrofoam container and pushed it toward him. "You need to eat. You'll feel better if you do."

He reached for this offering almost in spite of himself, feeling a sudden, low rumble of hunger. The container was very warm; whatever it was would feel so good on his sore throat. "Where did you get all this?"

"I had it delivered of course."

"But… why?"

"Sucking up to the new VP, why else?"

Suddenly her hand was pressed to his forehead again, so fast he hardly saw her move. He found himself leaning into the touch almost reflexively, heavy and aching as his head was.

She clucked her tongue. "If you're going to stay, you need to take some medicine for that fever." She produced a bottle of Tylenol and pushed it toward him with the rest.

"You really don't need to do all this. It's just a cold." Yet he reached for the pills too, knowing her logic was sound. The next four hours would go much smoother if he was medicated. A thick, rumbling cough escaped before he could swallow the pills, making his chest and throat sear.

"Since you've apparently caught a cold from hell, I really think I do need to do all this."

"Why, though?" he croaked again, helplessly. "We hardly know each other."

She leaned in, giving him a clear view of the cleavage he'd been trying to avoid staring at until now. When she spoke, her voice was soft and silky. "Because someone needs to take care of the new boss, and that someone might as well be me." She straightened up again, brushing her hair over her shoulder with an air of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. "I'll be keeping an eye on you today. We'll make sure you start feeling better, for all our sakes. No one is getting any work done with you coughing and sneezing in here like you have been."

Ryan felt himself flush. "Thanks," he muttered, sniffling uncomfortably.

She was true to her word and checked on him regularly throughout the day. He wasn't entirely sure yet what her role was in the company, but apparently it had a lot of flexibility, judging by how much she was away from her desk. And every time she came, she brought him something else–cough drops, tea, more medicine. He had to admit, she was incredibly good at predicting his needs. He survived the intervening hours in far more comfort than he would have without her help.

Still, when the end of the day rolled around, he was the sort of utterly exhausted that only working while miserably sick can cause. Half dead on his feet, he slowly packed up to leave, and in the process he nearly crashed into Tiffani, who had snuck up on him once again and was standing beside his desk. In his foggy state he staggered and almost fell, but she caught him by the arm to steady him.

"You really are a mess, aren't you?" she asked, worry coloring her tone.

" 'm just sick," he mumbled, coughing wetly to prove his point. "And I didn't expect you to be standing there. What are you doing anyway?" he asked, noting that she was also dressed to leave and carrying her purse.

"Coming to take you home."

"I'm an adult. I don't need help getting back to my apartment."

"We're not going to your apartment. We're going to mine."

She laughed at the expression on his face at this development.

"You just moved here, and you're a guy, so I'm sure at best you're sleeping on a mattress on the floor. You also probably have no food or medicine at your place yet, which is why you're as sick as you are to begin with. It makes way more sense for you to come home with me. You'll be much more comfortable."

He frowned half-heartedly, but had no argument. She had him pegged perfectly. Nothing sounded better than a real bed and a furnished apartment right now.

Seeing she had won, she smirked. She proved her powers of observation once more when she prodded the toe of her shoe into the corner of the duffle bag peeking out from under his desk. "What's this? Gym bag?"

"Yeah. Was planning to use the gym here but…" he gestured vaguely at his red, dripping nose.

"Bring that with you, then, and let's go." She grabbed his elbow possessively. "You'll love my place. It's very cozy."

A subway ride and a short walk later, they were arriving at a section of lower-income but still decent housing hidden in the heart of the city. Ryan hardly knew the city yet, and he was too sick and tired to pay attention to where they were going, but let her lead him with gentle pushes and pulls on his arm, trying to look less contagious than he felt. He could tell his fever was creeping up by how hot his ears felt, and all he wanted to do was fall into something resembling a bed and not get up for a long time. He let her lead him into an apartment building, up a few flights of stairs, and through one of the doors off a hallway landing.

It was a quaint little studio apartment, painted in soft, muted tones with cheerful feminine accents here and there, bright and open. The bed was immediately to the right of the door, separated from the rest of the room by cleverly placed shelving units, giving the feel of it being more than one room while a cozy sitting area dominated the rest of the space. One wall was made up almost entirely of windows, and the sunset leant a lovely, natural glow to the atmosphere.

"You have a beautiful apartment," he rasped, getting less intelligible by the hour.

"Thank you. I've lived here for three years now. I love it."

Ryan would never be bold enough to take a stranger's bed without being asked, so he made for the large couch, kicking off his shoes and shedding his jacket as he went with another husky cough. His original plan was to sit on the couch and just breathe for a bit, and make an attempt to be good company, but the plush cushions were so comfortable that he sank sideways, almost against his will, until his face met the soft throw pillow on his right. His eyes fell closed of their own accord and he tucked his legs up as well, but he did his best to stay awake for the time being. In his current state, the wide couch felt more comfortable than any bed he'd ever slept in. Yet Tiffani didn't let him get too comfortable, and plied him with medications for the fever immediately.

"It's been hours since your last dose and you're looking really sick again," she explained, watching as he drank a glass of water with the pills.

"I can't say I don't feel it," he sniffled, lying back down.

"Poor thing," she cooed. "I'm glad you can finally rest for a while.

He listened as Tiffani puttered around putting her things away. Soft music began to play, and then he heard a sharp clicking sound. His eyes fluttered open to see her lighting a candle. At ease immediately, his lids slipped shut again.

It seemed only a moment passed before he felt her shaking his arm, but when he opened his eyes again, she had changed clothes and showered, and her hair was in a towel.

"You should get a shower and get out of your work clothes," she said. "You'll feel better when you're more comfortable."

He grunted his assent, his throat too sore to want to talk. He sluggishly levered himself into a sitting position, sniffling as he tried to avoid dripping on himself, then stood, grabbing his gym bag. The urge to sneeze overwhelmed him suddenly:

“Heh’KIHHPT’shoo! Hddd'TSHHHooo! Dihh'IHSHHooo!!

He almost doubled over with the force of the messy trio. He hardly had time to cover, let alone find a tissue, so his hands were covered in slime by the end. He made a disgusted sound in his throat as he surveyed the mess.

"Bless you. Now you definitely need a shower," Tiffani laughed, unperturbed. "Go get cleaned up. Maybe it'll clear your head a bit too."

He tried to do as he was told, but just as he reached his destination another pair of sneezes snuck up on him, further soiling his hands:

“KIIHHPT-ttsscch! KHHGGT'nxxt!"

“Bless you again,” Tiffani said dutifully.

"Why is this cold getting worse instead of better?" he griped, swiping a tissue from the bathroom counter to scrub at his hands and nose as he continued to sniffle fruitlessly.

"That's how colds work, silly," she said, rolling her eyes fondly.

"Will this one seems to suck more than most," he mumbled, shutting the bathroom door behind him at last.

The hot water did indeed help in many ways, from the aches to the congestion to the tiredness, and he emerged feeling marginally better, especially now that he was wearing soft workout clothes instead of a starchy shirt and pants. He managed to smile at Tiffani from the door of the bathroom, but the first breath he took of non-steamy air brought the sinus irritation roaring back, and he was forced to bury his face into the bundle of clothes in his arms as he exploded into the messiest sneezing fit yet:

Huhh’REHHSHHHoo! ESSHHHyoo! Kuh-hh-HUSSHHHoo! Huh’ISSHHoo! Hh-h… huh’KIISHHoo! Heh-hh… Hiihg’KSSHHoo!”

“BLESS you,” Tiffany said, looking startled now. “That was… intense. Do you feel better at least?”

Ryan could only shake his head as his breath started to hitch once more, eyes red and streaming already: “Hehh'dzz-IHHH'shoo! Heh'KIHHT'shoo! Kihhh'IHHTchoo! Hihh'GEHH-CHOOF!”

Tiffani frowned. “Something is setting you off. You shouldn’t be sneezing so much.”

“Mbaybe idt’s the ca’dle,” Ryan croaked, nodding to the counter where the scented flame was still flickering. “Budt those dond’t usually bother mbe….”

Tiffani didn’t wait for him to finish and quickly snuffed out the offending flame. Meanwhile Ryan crushed a handful of tissues to his weeping nose, trying to quell the persistent tickle as he staggered his way back to the couch, feeling much worse now than he had before the shower. His head throbbed, his eyes ached, his throat seared. The brief sense of relief the shower had provided was already a faint memory. He felt distinctly foggy as Tiffani plied him with food and fussed around, trying to make him comfortable. He managed a few bites, trying to make her happy. The itching in his nose never fully subsided, though, nor did the dripping, and now his head was also stopped tight with suffocating congestion from the forceful stifling, making him feel even more puffy and achy. He found himself unable to breathe any way but through his mouth, which made him cough more, and of course he had to keep a tissue perpetually pressed to his upper lip. In short, he felt all around disgusting. Wrapped up in his own misery, he didn’t realize Tiffani was talking to him until she nudged his shoulder a while later.

“Why are you breathing like a dying fish? You really don’t sound good.”

"Kinda feel like I'mb drowni’g," he slurred. “Cand’t breathe. Too congested.”

“I can see that,” she agreed. “Hm…” she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you want to try to get unplugged? I think sneezing might be better than whatever is happening to you right now.”

He was in no state to make decisions, but she was right, anything had to be better than this, so he nodded sluggishly, wondering what she had in mind. He didn’t have to wonder long, for in a moment she was holding a familiar candle under his nose, the same one that had just been burning. The wax still hadn’t hardened completely.

“Take a deep breath and don’t stifle anymore. Just let it happen.”

He gave her a skeptical look, but took the warm glass jar from her. “You bedder step bagck, then. I dond’t wandt to sndeeze on you.”

She obediently crossed to the other side of the room. When she was out of range, he took a hesitant whiff, nose only inches from the wax.

The results were instantaneous. His nostrils flared, his chest expanded and his breath gasped as he launched into the messiest, wettest sneezing fit he’d ever experienced. The congestion he’d created from stifling was apparently eager to be released, and everything came flying out at an alarming rate at the slightest provocation. He soaked through tissue after tissue as he sneezed and sneezed and sneezed, needing only a few breaths of the candle to keep himself going.

Several minutes later he felt significantly emptier, and at last he allowed the sneezing to taper to a stop with a final, tremendous nose blow. Completely exhausted, he let his throbbing head fall back. His nose was much better, but everything else was worse. He couldn't keep from groaning, both from relief and self-pity.

He felt the couch shift as Tiffani sat down beside him. Her cool hand on his burning face made him moan again as she brushed the damp hair from his forehead.

"Feeling better now?" she murmured.

He made a non-committal noise.

"Poor thing. You are so, so sick honey," she cooed. "You're absolutely burning up. You just rest now. I've got you."

Too tired to resist, when she gently pulled him to lay against her chest, he allowed it. Sitting mostly upright kept him from coughing too much, anyway. He found he was very comfortable this way, especially when he realized she was playing with his hair. In no time, lulled by her soothing touch and soothing breathing and soothing heartbeat, he was fast asleep.

#my writing #the of/fice #sick ry/an how/ard #oc insert #answered asks #prompt fill #thanks for the request. Sorry for the wait. You know the drill #this is kinda gross but I kinda love it #Makes me want to write someone with the kink and inducing in a sexy way #but we'll see if that ever happens #everyone is hotter with a fever #ask box story

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