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A Little Less Terrible / Part 9 Husk POV Husk woke to thunder. It was so loud that it practically vibrated in his skull. He clutched at his temples, blinking blearily.  Beside him, Angel bolted upright in bed. The poor kid was gasping for air, chest heaving, his whole body shaking.  Before he could even fully register where he was or why Angel was here, Husk had his hand on Angel’s shoulder.  “Hey,” he murmured, wincing as he was painfully reminded of how sore his throat was. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Angel whirled on him, his eyes wild and unfocused, and Husk could feel his pounding pulse through his skin.  “Hey,” he said again, more softly this time. “You alright?” He watches as Angel’s gaze seems to come into focus, gradually realizing where he is. He gives a little shake of his head, as if trying to snap himself out of it, still breathing hard.  “I…s-sorry,” he chokes out, voice shaking. “Just…god, I fucking hate thunder.” Husk sees the other man’s cheeks turn pink, embarrassed by this admission. Husk gives his arm a gentle squeeze.  “That must suck,” he says, sympathetically. “Bein’ in Hell I mean. We get storms like this every other week.” Angel gives a dry chuckle, his breathing slowly returning to normal.  “Yeah, it’s ahh…not ideal.” “I’m afraid of balloons,” Husk volunteers, and upon seeing Angel’s face, he immediately wishes he could stuff the words back in his mouth.  “Shut up,” Angel says incredulously, a grin spreading across his face. “Instant regret,” Husk grumbles as Angel begins giggling.  “Balloons?” He exclaims in between fits of laughter. “Why?” Husk huffs, looking away, crossing his arms.  “I don’t know. They always…make my fur all staticky and I’m always worried they’re gonna pop. I don’ like the sound.” This just makes Angel giggle harder, until another clap of thunder sounds, so loud it rattles the glass of water on the night stand. Angel’s laughter is immediately cut short and he sucks in a sharp breath, his face going white. His hands begin to tremble a bit and before Husk can think too much about it, he takes them in his own, rubbing soothing circles on the backside of Angel’s palm with his thumb. “Christ, this shit really does bother you huh?” He says softly, concentrating on getting Angel’s hands to stop shaking.  Angel heaves a sigh, looking down at his and Husk’s intertwined hands, and gives Husk’s fingers a small squeeze. He glances up and meets the other man’s eyes, looking…almost shy.  “I umm…” he says softly, looking self conscious. “It’s…kinda pathetic I know. S’ been that way since I was a kid, an’ after I died it just…got even worse. I think it’s this body. S’ like I can fuckin’ feel the noise in my bones every time it happens.” Husk dares to move a little closer, not sure why he’s feeling so forward all of the sudden. Maybe he’s feverish. Or maybe Angel literally having to carry him up the stairs and undress him destroyed any stubborn dignity he had left.  “S’ definitely not pathetic,” he murmurs softly, absentmindedly brushing a stray hair out of Angel’s eyes. “S’ just human. Can I…is there anything I can do to help?” At his offer, that small, shy smile returns to Angel’s face and fuck, Husk wishes he could grab the damn thing and keep it in a display case like you would a trophy or expensive jewelry.  “S’ actually already better than usual,” Angel says shyly, looking down at their hands once more. “The company helps.” They fall silent then, the only sound being that of their breathing. Angel’s sounds significantly better, Husk notes, feeling pleased. As for his own however… Husk winces as he can hear every inhale he takes, the air rattling around in chest like loose change. Angel notices as well, and his expression becomes clouded with concern. He gently extracts one of his hands from Husk’s and brings it up to the other man’s forehead.  Just as his fingers graze Husk’s brow, Husk’s breath starts to hitch. He instinctively leans away, bringing up his elbow to cover his nose. “Huuhh…Huh-SHOO! Hruh-SHOO! Haahh…Hah-choo! Snniff. Fuck,” he wheezes, coughing a bit in the aftermath. “M’ sorry.” Angel visibly winces, as if the sound of those physically pains him.  “Ya’ sound worse,” he whispers, biting his lip. “Let me take your temperature, yeah?” Husk just nods, still sniffling and scrubbing at his nose as another tickle keeps teasing him. Fuck, he feels awful. He hadn’t really noticed at first, his mind focused on Angel, but now he registers the aching of his head, his shoulder, his ribs. Every breath is painful, sneezing even more so. His throat and chest feel like they’re filled with rocks and his nose. Christ, everytime he takes a breath it feels like someone’s stroking it with a feather. It’s already starting to turn red.  He lets Angel stick the thermometer under his tongue and manages to stave off another sneeze until it beeps. 101.2. Not great, but not the worst. Angel, after seeing the reading, sighs, sounding defeated. “Fuck. M’ sorry Husk,” he mumbles, sounding miserable. Husk scoffs, though it turns into a bit of a cough.  “What’re you apologizing for?” He says, shaking his head in disbelief. “S’ okay Angel. S’ not your fault.” “I’m the one that asked you to…ta’ stay. With me. Not ta’ mention that I—that we—slept together.”  As soon as the words are out of his mouth,  Angel’s face turns bright red. Husk feels himself start to smile as Angel stumbles over his words. trying to amend his previous statement.  “NOT. Slept together, slept together, ya’ know, just regular…ACTUAL sleeping! Is what I…oh, fuck you.” Husk can’t help it; he’s laughing. Angel scowls at him, looking embarrassed.  “Sorry,” Husk says, still chuckling, “it’s just. Fuckin’ halarious to see you this embarrassed about shit like that.”  Angel rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, whateva’. M’ sorry all the same. I mean Jesus Husk, I fuckin’…” He trails off here momentarily, his cheeks turning even more red, looking the other way.  “I…literally sneezed on you at one point, this is definitely my fault—“ “If it makes you feel better,” Husk cuts him off, wanting to stop Angel from saying any more stupid shit, “we’d been…spendin’ time together quite a bit, before you got sick. You probably…gave it to me way before…that happened.” Angel has his head covered by his pajama shirt out of embarrassment, but he tugs it down so that just his eyes are visible, to peek at Husk. He lets out a strangled sounding groan of frustration and puts his head face down in his pillows.  Husk chuckles, looking at the other man fondly.  “Ah, quit feelin’ guilty Legs,” he says, rolling to face Angel, stretching out his legs, getting re-situated. “This ain’t so bad. Bein’ here with you.” Husk knows he should feel sudden, intense embarrassment having let that slip past his lips. But for some reason, he doesn’t. It must be the fever.  Angel glances up at his comment and Husk fucking relishes the way that uncontainable, shy smile spreads across the other man’s face. The pink in his cheeks spreads across the bridge of his nose and his eyes crinkle around the corners. “Yer makin’ a guy blush Husk,” he says jokingly, rolling over to face the other man.  And that’s how Husk finds himself nose to nose with Angel.   As they lay there, Husk finds himself tracing the outline of Angel’s shoulder, his neck, his hair, on the pillow. Finally, his eyes come to meet the other man’s, and the expression there makes Husk’s mouth go dry.  Angel is looking at him with what Husk can only describe as…desire.  But that couldn’t be it, could it? Even as he’d begun to shed the protective, sultry persona he used to wear, the real Angel was still a huge flirt. Now, his innuendos and sly remarks were just friendly teasing that Husk had grown accustomed too. They lacked any serious implication and never pushed Husk’s boundaries. So as Angel lay there, his breath grazing Husk’s cheek, his tongue darting out from between his lips as he traced Husk’s face with his eyes, Husk felt like he’d been launched into outer space. This was foreign territory, and Husk’s brain felt like it was being scattered in a million different directions.  “Husk.” The sound of his name on Angel’s lips seems to pull him back in, a tether bringing him down to earth. He inhales sharply, having never heard his name said quite that way by…anyone, before.  They stare at each other, and they’re so close he can feel Angel’s heartbeat through the few centimeters separating them. It’s pounding rapidly, matching his own.  Angel takes a deep breath, letting his eyes slip closed for just a moment, as if bracing himself, before he opens them and speaks again.  “Husk, I—“ But that’s all he manages to get out. Husk feels Angel’s breath stutter, sees his eyelids start to flutter closed; he watches as Angel hurriedly pulls out his handkerchief as a barrier between them. The sneeze comes so suddenly he doesn’t even have time to roll over before- “hhiii-chu!! eehhh…ehh-ixtchu! ixgtch! heh…heh-tchi! O~hhh~oh fhhuck, I’m…Ihh! ehhxtg-chu! eehhh…shorry, I cahhn’t st-sth~haa~p, ihht’s—iiihhtchu! eehh-ehhchu! ahh..ahh-CHU! snnifff. Ah, fugcking hell, sniff, I’b sorry.” Angel's face is burning, and Husk knows his own probably matches. Angel rolls away to blow his nose, and Husk reaches over to grab the thermometer off the bed, waiting as Angel flops down on his back, sniffling, looking spent.  “Your turn,” Husk murmurs, handing him the thermometer, and Angel takes it, placing it under his tongue. It beeps after a moment, and Husk takes it back, squinting without his glasses. He makes out a blurry 99.3. “Not too bad,” Angel mutters beside him, looking suddenly tired from his fit. “Think my nose just tickles.” Fucking hell, how can he say stuff like that so casually? Husk finds himself almost grateful for the coughing fit that overtakes him then, sparing him from thinking too hard about Angel’s words. Hacking, he struggles to push himself upright into a sitting position, trying to help his own breathing. His eyes are closed as he continues to cough but he feels Angel’s arms come around him and assist him, propping him up and rubbing his back in soothing circles. “Christ, we’re a mess huh?” He hears Angel say as his fit dies down, and he manages a strangled sounding chuckle, a bit light headed from the lack of oxygen.  “Think between the 2 of us we almost make one functioning person,” he wheezes, his voice cracking in and out. He brings his hands to his temples and groans slightly at the headache budding there. God, he really does feel terrible.  Then, he feels a gentle hand come up on the back of his neck and begin carding  soothing fingers through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his hairline, as if trying to massage the headache away. He opens an eye to see Angel, looking at him with concern.  “M’ sorry you feel so bad Whiskers,” he whispers to Husk, and with his other hand, he absentmindedly takes his thumb and traces it gently over the crease that’s formed between Husk’s eyebrows.  “I can tell ya’ got a headache,” Angel says softly. “Ya’ get this little line right between your eyebrows. When your head hurts.” Husk doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s supposed to say to that. Thankfully, before he can make a fool of himself, Angel pulls back, and begins to slip out of bed.  “Where’re you going?” Husk asks, his voice coming out shaky and desperate, not at all how he intended. But Angel just smiles.  “M’ just gonna grab some more water for ya’ Husky. S’ almost time for more meds, n’ you look like ya’ need em’.” He grabs the empty glass off the nightstand and quietly makes his way into the bathroom. Husk breathes an unintentional sigh of relief at the realization that he’s not going far. He hears the faucet turn on, and so does Fat Nuggets, who stirs from his place on the bottom of the bed and happily trots over to nuzzle into Husk’s palm. Husk would be lying if he said the gesture didn’t make his insides warm.  The moment is short lived however as Husk’s breath begins to hitch, again. Fucking hell, this was getting annoying. He hears the bathroom faucet turn off just as his eyes flutter closed with a tiny gasp. “Hahh…Hah-shoo! Huhh…Huh-SHOO! Huh…HRUH-SHOO! HUH-CHOO! Ahhh…AHH-CHOO!” The fit continues, the sneezes getting louder and louder, each one grating on his poor throat. He vaguely registers Angel setting the water down and then hurrying out of the room into the hallway. Husk feels his cheeks turning red; he can’t blame him, this is fucking disgusting. The fit continues for a few more seconds until it finally starts to die down, his lungs running out of air.  “Ehhh…ehhshoo! ihh…ish-shuh! Ha-chuh! Ooooo.” He groans in pain, his nose feeling raw and inflamed like an open wound, his rib throbbing from the repeated abuse. He blinks his eyes open blearily, and jumps a little, finding Angel right beside him.  “Sorry,” the other man chuckles, “didn’t mean to startle you. I just, um…”  He trails off, and extends his arms out to Husk, revealing several handkerchiefs in both hands.  “I ran next store real quick and grabbed em’. Sorry I didn’t go sooner, shoulda’ gotten them as soon as you told me why can’t use tissues. But ahh, here.”  He offers Husk a purple one, and Husk is so grateful he could cry. He takes it, turning away from Angel to blow his nose. It’s a bit painful on his already raw skin, but it does help alleviate that annoying tickle and the pressure in his sinuses.  “Here,” comes Angel’s voice from beside him, and he turns to see the other man holding out two pills and the fresh glass of water. Sniffling a little, Husk takes them, thankful that they go down without causing another coughing fit. He lets himself fall back against the pillows, spent, closing his eyes at the world around him is spins slightly. He feels the bed dip as Angel sits down beside him, and takes his hand.  “What can I do Husk?” He softly, sounding pained and anxious. Before Husk can answer, another clap of thunder sounds, and he hears Angel give a small gasp that ends in a whimper, his hand tightening around Husk’s. Husk forces his eyes open, fighting sleep. He feels a bit like he’s floating above his body, watching himself watching Angel, who's shaking a little. “Come here,” he hears himself say to Angel in a barely conscious mumble, the fever and the fatigue slowly pulling him under. “Please.” Angel doesn’t need to be told twice. He climbs carefully over Husk, not letting go of his hand, and slips under the covers beside him.  Husk feels his own arms wrap around the other man’s slender body, pulling him in close and gently rubbing his shoulders trying to ease the shaking. Meanwhile, Angel’s own arms pull Husk in close, bringing the shorter man’s head up under his chin and trailing gentle fingers over Husk’s cheekbones. He hears Angel take a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own nerves. Husk gives his arm a squeeze. “M’ not gonna let anything happen t’ ya’ Angie,” he murmurs sleepily, his fevered brain not caring that logically, in this state, he probably couldn’t protect Angel from a butterfly. His arms tighten around the other man, determined to shield him from the sound of the thunder.  He vaguely hears Angel give a slight chuckle and a happy sounding hum, managing to burrow his way even closer to Husk than before.  “I know Husk,” he whispers in the other man’s ear. “Now sleep.”   Angels POV It’s a long and somewhat restless night. Angel keeps waking up over and over, from the thunder, from the need to sneeze, what have you. Husk, thankfully, is out cold, getting some much needed rest. He hardly even stirs when Angel wakes up sneezing, and the feeling of his warm body coupled with the sound of his congested snoring helps Angel drift off again fairly quickly each time he wakes. Around 10AM, Angel finds himself awoken by a new sound. Not thunder, but whimpering. Beside him, he feels Husk stirring, and he’s up in an instant, worried that the other man is in some kind of pain. The curtains are drawn (purposefully so, to keep Husk sleeping through the day), and Angel fumbles for the lamp switch on his nightstand so he can see what’s wrong.  Low light illuminates the room and he turns to see Husk, still sleeping, but with a pained expression on his face. His forehead has broken out in a cold sweat and the poor guy is trembling with fever chills. His breathing is labored and the purple bruising from his broken rib has started to show through his fur. But the worst part is the sounds. Husk is whimpering like a wounded animal, tossing and turning, murmuring the occasional broken sounding “no,” or “please.” Suddenly, he cries out, and begins thrashing around in the bed, as if fighting off some invisable attacker. “Stop!” He chokes out in a strangled, terrified voice, and Angel is instantly by his side, one set of arms trying to keep Husk still, worried that he’ll hurt his broken rib with all the thrashing, the other set gently shaking Husk’s sleeping form, trying to rouse him.  “Husk,” Angel says urgently in the other man’s ear. “Husk, wake up, it’s just a bad dream.” Suddenly, the other man’s eyes shoot open, and before Angel can register  what’s happening, Husk is roughly shoving him back with both hands, scrambling into an upright position, his breathing rapid and panicked. “Husk, it's me,” Angel croaks, coughing a little from the sudden shove to his chest. “Stay away from me,” Husk growls, lashing out at the empty air, his eyes still wild and unfocused. “Hey,” Angel tries again, speaking softly, leaning back and giving the other man space. “Husk, it’s me, Angel. You’re here, with me, you’re safe. It was just a dream.” He watches as Husk’s fevered gaze slowly takes in his surroundings. The glazed look gradually fades from his eyes as he comes back to reality, his whole body trembling as he wheezes and tries to catch his breath. Finally, his eyes find Angel’s face, and Angel sees a spark of recognition there.  “Angel?” he manages to get out, his voice a broken whisper. Angel feels as if someone is taking a seam ripper to his heart strings, hearing the other man sound so small and afraid. “Yeah Whiskers,” he say quietly, not daring to touch the other man just yet. “S’ me. You’re here, in my room. You jus’ had a nightmare is all.” He watches as a rapid scheme of emotions flood Husk’s face, first apprehension, the relief, then downright horror.  “Oh god,” Husk croaks, all the color leaving his face. “I didn’t…Did I hurt you?”  “No,” Angel rushes to assure him, unable to help himself from lightly taking Husk’s hand. “No, of course not, I’m alright. I think I jus’ scared ya’ when I tried to wake you up. M’ sorry about that.”  Husk slowly breathes out, letting his eyes slip closed and dropping his head in his hands.  “Why would…what’re you apologizing for?” he grumbles from behind his hands. “I’m the one who—ya’ know. Fuck, maybe…maybe I should go back ta’ my room—“ “No!” Angel says with way too much force, and he grimaces at his own tone, resisting the urge to pull out a fistful of his own hair.  “I mean,” he amends, backtracking, “you can, of course, if you’re…if that’s what you want to do, I just…I’d really ahh, prefer to keep an eye on ya’,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “While you’re…cuz’ you’re sick.” Husk peaks up at him and gives a small sigh.  “That’s not…I don’t want to leave,” he says quietly, biting his lip. “I just…”  He pauses, taking a shaky breath, looking like he’s trying not to cry.  “These nightmares,” Husk tries again, voice wavering, “they uh…Fuck Angel, they can get really bad. An’…the fever, it’s only gonna make ‘em’ worse, I don’t want to—“ Angel cuts him off by pulling Husk into a hug.   At first, Husk remains stiff as a board, blinking in surprise. Angel just hugs him tighter. Slowly, he feels the other man start to tremble, the tension draining from his body, and with a shuddering exhale, he starts to cry.  Angel hadn’t ever seen Husk cry before. It didn’t last long, and he was practically silent, not a loud, dramatic crier like Angel was. But Angel could feel the shaky exhales on his shoulder and the wetness on his chest where Husk had buried his head.  Angel isn’t sure what more he can do, save to stay there, holding him. So that’s what he does. He holds Husk like he’s the only thing in the world that matters. And to Angel? He kind of is.   Husk’s crying only lasted a few moments, after which he gently pulled away, wiping his eyes and scrubbing boyishly at his nose. Angel half expected him to be embarrassed, but he seems too tired even for that. He looked utterly spent, his whole frame trembling with exhaustion, his arms pulled in close to his body, for warmth or protection Angel isn’t sure. At that moment, Angel can’t think of a single thing he wouldn’t do if it meant taking all of Husk’s pain away.  Gently, so as not to startle him, Angel brings a fresh handkerchief to Husk’s face, wiping away his tears. Husk’s eyes flick up to meet his, his expression worn and weary.  “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he says softly to Angel, his voice hoarse from crying. “These dreams…sometimes I’ll thrash and kick and…and scream and—hell, I can’t even keep shit on my nightstand anymore, I break things. I thought—“ He cuts off here briefly, taking a deep breath, gripping the comforter for support.  “I thought they might stop. At least, while I was with you. Yesterday was the first time I’ve slept for more than 5 hours in…years. But—“ He trails off again, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut.  “But they came back,” Angel finishes for him, feeling like someone has taken a sledge hammer to his heart. Husk just nods, once, and looks away, looking utterly defeated. “Hey,” Angel says, scooting closer and placing a gentle hand on the other man’s shoulder. “On the bright side, ya’ said bein’ with someone helped. That’s a good step in the right direction, yeah? Even if don’ work every time. Sides’, this fever sure ain’t doin’ ya’ any favors in the nightmare department. Eva’ heard of fever dreams?” Husk, once again somehow managing to be adorable and pitiful at the same time, gives a small sniffle and glances at him, his eyes wide and vulnerable.  “Y-you think?” He whispers, his voice shaking a bit, and Angel wraps the gray blanket around his shoulders to help keep the chill at bay.  “Fa’ sure,” he says, offering a small smile. “And if bein’ with someone helps—“ “Not someone,” Husk cuts him off suddenly, meeting his eyes. “You.” Angel blinks. He feels his brain short circuit and his tongue suddenly feels like it was stung by a bee. He can’t tell if Husk, all feverish and exhausted, even really registers what he just said. Angel can’t imagine a fully alert Husk saying anything like that, at least not on purpose, and definitely not without being intensely embarrassed. But Husk’s gaze is firm and unwavering as he looks at Angel, full of such sincerity that Angel has to look away, lest he do something idiotic like kiss the guy.  “A-Alright,” he fumbles, deciding he’ll have to unpack that comment later. “If bein’ with…me helps you, then you definitely shouldn’t go. Ya’ need sleep to get better an’ you probably won’t get much all by yourself. An’… if you’re worried about me gettin’ hurt, I promise ta’ be careful next time. I’ll move out of your way if ya’ start havin’ anotha’ one, and I’ll let ya’ wake up on your own. How’s that sound?” Husk stares at him for a moment, his tired eyes somehow still calculating, considering Angel’s offer. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, as if he knows Angel is right, but he doesn’t like it.  “I just…” he whispers, chewing on his lip, hesitantly. “I don’t…want to scare you.” At that, Angel feels as though someone stuck him with a knife.  “Husk,” he says, titling the man’s face up, his voice gentle but firm. “I could never be afraid of you. S’ gonna take a lot more than a little thrashin’ and yellin’ ta’ scare me away. Hell, I do that shit on command, every day, for a livin’,” he chuckles, and to his great delight, he sees Husk give a small smile.  “Would it…would it help if you talked about em’?” Angel asks hesitantly. “The nightmares I mean?” Husk gives a small shrug.  “Charlie thinks they’re a symptom of PTSD,” he says, and Angel glances at the other man in surprise.  He hadn’t known Husk had taken Charlie up on her offer of counseling sessions. Let alone confided in her about his nightmares. It made Angel feel an emotion he couldn’t quite place at first. After a moment, he realized it was pride. He was proud of Husk, for seeking help all on his own. Angel knew first hand how hard that could be.  “Most of em’ are about the war,” Husk says softly, his eyes going far away, as if he was seeing ghosts. “Flashbacks, that sort of thing. But ah…” He picks at the comforter, nervously. “Some of em’ are about…more recent things.” “Like Alastor?” Angel blurts out before he can stop himself. Husk glances up, giving a small nod.  “Yes and no,” he says quietly. “I don’t usually dream about him so much as the um. The jobs he sends me on. Like this last one…” Husk trails off, shuddering at the memory, and Angel gives his hand a gentle squeeze.  “You ain’t gotta relive that right now,” he murmurs, absentmindedly entwining their fingers together and stroking Husk’s palm. “But thank you, for tellin’ me all that other stuff. I know that’s…not easy. I’m ahh…I’m real glad you’re talkin’ to Charlie about this stuff Husk. S’ good you're getting some help.” Husk huffs, giving a dry laugh, but Angel can tell from the soft look on his face that his words have hit their mark. “Yeah well,” Husk mumbles, looking shy. “S’ free, an’ she…seemed ta’ be helpin’ you out a lot so. I gave it a go. Gonna keep tryin’, least for a while.” Angel’s heart swells and he gives Husk a big smile.  “That’s great Husk. M’ real proud of you.” At this, Husk blushes something awful, making Angel giggle.  “Cmon’,” he says, saving the other man from further embarrassment, “let’s get ya’ back under the covers. You need sleep.” At the mention of sleep, Husk’s eyelids start to droop, his fatigue overtaking him. Angel barely has time to pull the covers back before the other man all but collapses, sinking into the pillows. Angel gives a small chuckle, gently bringing the comforter up around Husk’s shoulders. He’s still shivering slightly, and Angel hurries to join him under the covers, wrapping both sets of arms around the other man for warmth and pulling him in so that his head rests on Angel’s chest. Husk nuzzles into Angel’s embrace, practically already asleep. Angel hums fondly, stroking the other man’s head, and delighting in the fact that Husk starts to purr again.  “Y’ sure…s’ okay…me bein’ here?” the other man mumbles sleepily, somehow still using caution while only half conscious. Angel just pulls him closer. “I wouldn’t want ya’ anywhere else,” he whispers, giving Husk’s shoulders a squeeze. At that, Husk’s purring grows even louder, and Angel is throwing mental confetti.  The moment of bliss is short lived however as Husk, drowsy with sleep, doesn’t notice that his poor, sensitive nose is buried right in Angel’s chest fluff.  Angel realizes what’s happening before Husk does, and he goes incredibly still, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest he’s surprised it doesn’t wake Husk. He watches, transfixed, as with every little breath, his fur brushes against Husk’s red nose.  “hehh…ehhh…snifff.” Angel winces, knowing a sniffle, even a small one, was not the ideal move right now. Sure enough, Husk’s hitching breath becomes even more prevalent, and his eyes briefly open for a moment, but not in time for him to become aware of the predicament before— “haahh…hah-choo! ahh-choo!” He sneezes right against Angel’s chest, not awake enough to pull away or cover. And holy fucking shit, Angel is forced to cross his legs and bite the inside of his cheek so hard it bleeds to keep himself from moaning. This is his best/worst fantasy come to life and he’s having trouble remembering how to breath.  Meanwhile, Husk, now fully awake, is staring at him looking absolutely mortified.  “Oh god,” he croaks, looking like he might start crying again. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—“ “Shhh,” Angel shushes him, forcing himself to stop being a horny piece of shit and focus on reassuring Husk. He pulls the other man back into his embrace, stroking his back and shoulders.  “Don’ worry about it Whiskers,” he says chuckling softly, pleased to feel Husk relaxing into his arms, too tired to put up much of a fight. “We’re even now.”  He feels Husk give a small laugh, already drifting off again, too worn out to rake himself over the coals. Once he resumes purring, Angel carefully reaches over with one arm and sets a new alarm, determined to keep Husk on a medicine schedule and get him healthy. He also gives himself a firm scolding, knowing that there will likely be more sneezes over the next few hours and he needs to fucking control himself.  Before long however, he feels his own eyelids start to grow heavy. The sound of Husk’s purring almost drowns out all the thunder outside, and for the first time in his entire life, Angel finds himself able to drift off during a storm. 

Haha yeah. I still have a large journal baby book my parents and Sister wrote in. Kathy has a bad cold. Kathy stayed home today from school, sick. No descriptions of sneezes though.

First of all, it just used to make me feel uncomfortable. I was fascinated by sneezing, but it used to give a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach which I could not define. Of course, this all made a bit more sense when I got older and developed a sexuality. I was obsessed with sneezes in books and movies from a very early age, and also those I saw in real life. I used to read about sneezing in our family 'medical journal' (anyone remember pre-internet when households used to have things like this?!  ). Sneezing material was much harder to come by then - much was stumbled upon by chance in the most unexpected moments!

^I 100% agree  It's such a traditional cause of sneezing, and yet features actually pretty rarely in the world of fics  Splendid job as always Chanel - the sneezes in this fic seem a little more violent than you usually write, and that suits me just fine  

@TheSneezeGirl. Absolutely the same. I already had Y.T. for watching music videos, concerts, or health-related tips or short documentaries. Once I heard a male sneezer on Y.T. I kept surfing around to see if there were others making them. Then the mumbled words "Hol*.S*€t" came out of my mouth and I was hooked. Maybe between my mid 20's-now.