Sicker by the minute (2 parts :) )

[doggo]

Just a little bit or something............

“Oh, Marcus? He's not well."

“Actually, that's not it. He's taking care of some business in the Bubble, keeping the officials happy.”

“Really? I saw him in last night... he didn't look like he'd be much use outside bed... oh scratch that, not much use in bed either!”

Just a couple of us laughed at Martha's crude joke, actually I wanted to laugh too, but being new to the group I was too worried of stepping on someone else's toes.

“Don't worry about him," Jerome said. "He's quite knowledgeable about the workings of the Bubble and smarter than all of you banded together. He's the boss's son, after all.”

Marcus was one of those few of us who could move in and out of the Bubble as he pleased. Genetically speaking, he was like us, descendant of the lone survivors of the apocalypse – he could take the radiation and didn't need to take any of those strict safety measures the insiders needed. But he had grown up in there with his mother who had agreed to be a test subject, as long as they would provide her child with the safe environment, the protection and the chance to be educated and cultured like was only possible inside the Bubble. And now when he was all grown up he was a fantastic liaison to the inside, just what the resistance needed. I decided to keep my mouth firmly shut and just listen to the others.

“So let us revise the plans. Alex," he said, pointing at me with his eyes on the crudely drawn map. "You are driving again. Now, there's some details we need to work over. Everyone pay attention.”

…

I couldn't catch sleep that night either. Perhaps I was nervous because of the upcoming operation, or was it just that I couldn't still feel comfortable living here, with this strange group, in this strange place, where they knew so little about me. I took all precautions I could, I didn't really feel like the specifics of my body were anyone's business, I didn't really owe them any details, but it still made me uneasy, being this close to so many people. I eventually got bored of rolling around in my bunk, and decided to step out a little to get my mind off things. Perhaps make a cup of tea, it didn't exactly help me sleep, but it gave me comfort.

A lone bulb hanging from the ceiling cast weak light on the piles of cardboard boxes, tin cans, boxes of detergent, dirty boots and overalls, random tools here and there, stacks of paper... I wasn't exactly a neat freak but the kitchen could be barely recognized as one. I filled the kettle and sat down by the table, listening to the heavy, almost eerie silence that took over this kolkhoz-like nest of rebels by night. Only the water warming slowly on the stove, and the wind howling outside, cold air creeping in through the clumsily sealed windows... if I could find a roll of tape I could probably do something about that, I had already done the window of my own room.

It was then when I heard the clatter, realizing that someone was pulling the door. Fear took me over over in an instant, there was someone trying to get in and it must have been the light of the kitchen that had lured them here. I crouched down and tried to tiptoe to the switch, shaking from head to toe, trying my damnest to not to make a sound. Should I call others? Make an alarm? I slid down the switch and leaned to the wall, panting.

“Hetttsigh!” A sneeze muffled by the door caught my ears, and then some cursing. That voice was familiar. The door was pulled again.

“Who's there? Who's awake?” That voice... as weird and edgeless it sounded, I could tell it was Marcus. I sighed of relief, I almost laughed a little, and switched the light back on. What the hell he was doing here though? I went for the door.

“Jesus, Marcus, you scared me out of my wits. What the he.... Why are you here?”

He walked in right past me, inside, turned around, and sneezed again. “He.... Hetsss-ih-ghn! ...Fuck!”

That must have been the first time ever I heard him swearing, which baffled me even more. He rubbed his nose with his knuckles and sniffled. The sound was very wet, his nose must have been streaming. “Are you going... goh.... HESSSCHIIgh-ah!” he grabbed his throat, making an expression of pain, and continued with a hoarse, thoroughly congested voice. “Are you going to close that door?”

Damn, I must have blushed a little, I felt like an ass. “You scared the shit out of me, Marcus. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be in the Bubble?”

The snow was melting and falling off his clothes, forming a puddle in his feet. He had took the kettle off the stove. “It boiled already.” He pressed his wrist against his nose, sniffling again, and dug up a bundle of wet tissue paper from his pocket. “Oh yuck... it's gotten all wet... I cad't blow idto this.” He sniffled again, tilting his head back. His nostrils looked painfully red and chapped, and his eyes, normally so alert and vividly blue, looked tired and watery. “HESSSSCHOAGH!” The sneeze threw his whole upper body forward. “Fuck damn it!” He had buried his nose in that awful mess of what used to be tissue paper. A shiver ran through him and he whimpered a bit, giving his nose a loud, gurgling blow that nevertheless stopped quite short. With a miserable expression on his face, he started wiping his nose first into the tissues, then into his wrists, while trying desperately to sniffle back a thick stream mucus spilling out from his red, swollen nostrils. “I cad't blow idto these,” he whimpered. “It goes right though.” At that point I paid attention to the glow on his hollow cheeks. He had obviously a fever too, no doubt about that.

“You... sit down and wait a moment” I helped the coat off him, trying to not to look at his face as I felt he was probably ashamed of the very unclean state of his nose. I went to get a box of tissues from the bathroom, grabbed a towel with me too, and went back. He was still shivering, like a blade of grass startled by a gust of wind. I threw the towel on his head and handed him the whole box.

He sat there with the tissue box on his lap and kept blowing while I was rubbing his wet hair with the towel, trying to get as much moisture out as I could. When I sat next to him I saw him gazing into another tissue, looking disgusted, and coughing weakly. “I feel like I might suffocate on this stuff.”

I couldn't help but to frown sympathetically and reach my hand to try his forehead. “You're running a fever, Marcus.”

“I doh... dh... Hetsschiigh!” Even if he had tried to aim to the floor on his right, some spray landed on me, especially the hand I had whipped off his forehead the moment I realized he was going to sneeze. He looked mortified, took a fresh tissue and started wiping my hands with it. “I'b sorry, so sorry I'm this... this... grotesque.”

“What an awful cold,” I sighed, taking the piece of paper from him. “You're not doing yourself any favor sitting here in wet clothes. You should head back to your place to sleep.”

“I can't get in there,” he sighed, and leaned his elbows into the table, rubbing his eyes and forehead with his palms. “It's the damn new lock system, it's not working... again! There must be some problem with the power supply. I said it was not reliable... So when I saw the light here, I thought, perhaps I could bunk in the kitchen or something...”

“Isn't there anyone who can open the door for you?”

“No, there's normally only dad and Martha, and neither is getting back before tomorrow. But I figured...”

“So what would you have done if I didn't happen to be awake? Would have froze out there?”

“Slept in the van.”

“Would have caught your death!”

“Smashed that window.”

“Our window!”

He broke into grim laughter that was mixed with coughs while I stood up and went to the kettle. “I was making tea. You could use a cup of something warm too,” I mumbled. I must admit I didn't quite know how to act around this Marcus who was so unlike the one I was used to know. Granted I had probably never talked with him one-to-one, there were always others around, but I used to know him as this rather reserved, serious sort of young man who was well-mannered to the point of unfriendly. I had heard him laugh but only in reaction to things that people like his dad and Martha said – people he had known for a long time, and even then it was not laughter that invited others to join, but more like some sort of acknowledgement of belonging in a group of very few who could reach under that surface of matter-of-factness.

And when it really came down to it, it seemed almost like he was only open and sincere when conversing with his father, the man whose elegantly chiseled face was not unlike his own; talking about it, they really looked like each other, except Matthew was somewhat taller, somewhat more strongly built – and had that air of warmth around him that tended to make people feel safe and willing to help him, which his son didn't share – while Marcus, partly due to the virtue of being much younger, had such a light yet graceful way of carrying himself that it made me often feel painfully clumsy... which was quite unlike me too. Strange how the situation had changed, I thought, handing a steaming cup of tea to this ragged, drowsy boy who sat there shivering from head to toe, looking like he might slip into slumber any minute if it wasn't for his constantly dripping, apparently intolerably stuffy nose and such a frequent need to give in to those wet, wet sneezes that sprayed all over the tissues and his hands and made his eyes water enough to draw a lone tear down his cheek.

“Ehhh... Hettsigh! … he... ESSSSCHOAH!” he had spilled a good deal of the hot tea on his hands while sneezing.

“Oh let me take that... shees... that must have burned.” I inspected his hand while he wiped his nose with another.

“It's ok,” he snuffled into the tissue. “Hesschowhhh!” he turned away from me, moaning a bit, he sounded so irritated. I winced at the sound of the following blow, it was so thick and gurgling, and while gasping for more air a silent, weak “ahhh!” escaped his lips. I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I don't know... how can you get back to your own bed, or when, but if you can't now you can bunk in my bed. Your shoes must be wet too... see there's another puddle, I swear you'll catch your death, I mean... jesus, Marcus, you're so sick.”

“I can't get back before tomorrow morning, I can't override the lock, he was meant to teach me how but...”

“Ok. Come on. Let's get you off those wet clothes.”

…

I didn't exactly have anything in my closet that would fit him, he was quite a bit taller than me, with obviously broader shoulders, I am quite tiny myself for a guy. I pretended not to look when he was taking off his clothes, but couldn't really resist taking a glimpse at his beautiful, supple body... which led me to notice something I didn't expect. I lost focus and gasped. “Is that a...”

“Yeah.” He sniffled and pinched his nose, making scrunched-up face that signaled fighting a losing battle against another sneeze. I watched the muscles of his back tense when he eventually let his jaw hang slack and cupped his nose with his hand, turning his face down and sneezing a loud “Hessschoogh!” that bent his body forward from the waist. Clenching his fist, he sniffled deeply, rubbing his nose with his knuckles. The movement was very careful, apparently his nose was starting to hurt quite bad after all the sneezing and blowing. “Yeah, it was a gunshot wound. That's why I couldn't stay in the Bubble, they would have made me go through a medical check and there is no record of that one. And I was so obviously infectious.” Which his back turned at me, I could barely make sense of what he was saying, his voice was so thick with congestion, he had lost all his n's and m's. “Ugh... I should was my hands...” he muttered, and walked to the small sink by the door.

...

I urged him to take the bed while I would sleep in an old armchair I had fished from a thrash skip. “You'll get sick too, it's so cold...” he mumbled from under the covers, hugging the box of tissues like it was a treasure.

I felt tempted to go sleep next to him, as it really was quite cool even inside, but I didn't feel comfortable enough to be that close to someone. It wasn't like I was expecting him to suddenly grab my crotch and realize that from his point of view something was missing, but I just didn't want to do it. There's some boundaries I don't like anyone to interfere with, and this was one.

“I'm more likely to get sick if come next to you. You should see yourself.”

“Suit yourself...” I heard some coughing, and another thick, crackling blow. He let out a ragged sigh, I might have imagined it but it sounded like his breath was wheezing a little. “Don't stay there if you're cold, Alex. There's enough room... HESSSchigh! Oh damb.” He sniffled deeply. “Looks like this cold isn't letting either of us sleep, huh?...”

“Just try to rest some, Marcus. I swear you sound worse by the minute.”

He did answer me something, but I couldn't make much sense of it. I could pick up a “sorry” from the mess of whimpering and groaning, perhaps there was something else, I couldn't tell.

[JenJen]

Oh, what a cool idea! I really love the post-apocalyptic setting.

That cold Marcus has is out-of-this-world awful. I feel so bad for him! I just want to cuddle him up. And oh man, you included one of my very favorite things - sneezing and spilling a drink. Heeee~

You're an incredible writer...I sincerely hope there will be more!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Oooh, lovely story, pig.

[flower]

I'm really enjoying this, pig. Can't wait for more.

[Skiffy]

This is incredible, for both the on-topic parts and the actual story. I love your writing- if you ever write a novel, can I please pre-order a copy?

[Dusty15]

Holy moley, Pig! You should write more often! This is incredible....seriously. Will there be more, because I'm loving this!

[sneasons greetings]

Love this very much! Please continue!

[RSB]

Love this. Especially the end where Marcus offers to share the bed...

[doggo]

Awwwwww, thank you for all the sweet comments! !!

I didn't originally intend to continue but perhaps I just could. I won't promise anything awfully long or interesting but perhaps some added misery.

I love your writing- if you ever write a novel, can I please pre-order a copy?

haha I wish I could write anything else than sneezefic but sadly it looks like I can't! But oh well, in the end, sneezefic isn't so bad either...

[VoOs]

Yet another peekhole into one of your compelling worlds.

So well-written. So delicious.

[doggo]

Thanks, VoOs!

--

Ok, I wrote some more. Hope you find it enjoyable. I do know I enjoyed writing it!

PART II

I didn't find it any easier to fall asleep than before. I had spread my coat on my lap, trying to fit as much of my legs and arms under it as possible, but I still felt chilly. Eventually I did doze off for a while, even with the sound of Marcus snoring softly - just how could he be so full of cold, poor devil. The bliss didn't last that long though, I woke up to the strange, even frightening sound of him talking in his sleep. First I just tried to ignore it, I didn't even make any sense out of what he was saying – was it even in any real language? - but as he started to sound more and more agitated, I couldn't help but to go and check on him.

The moment the back of my hand touched his forehead, he whipped his head violently aside and made a terrified sound. “Marcus...” I tried to whisper. That fever he had was no joke. I went through my stuff to find a painkiller, something to get the fever down a notch, while listening how he continued babbling... It came in short, gushing series of sounds, he was very agitated, sometimes it almost sounded like he was begging. To tell the truth, it was almost a painful thing to hear, I couldn't even imagine what sort of nightmares he must have been having. I went back to him, taking a bottle of water from top of the pile of cardboard boxes that worked as a nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, putting my hand to the side of his head, firmly but gently, caressing his sweaty auburn hair with my fingers.

I didn't even need to call his name, as my touch made him open his eyes in an instant, trying to jump up, but a fit of coughs forced him to curl up to his side. “I'm sorry I startled you, Marcus. But you're so feverish, it's worrying me. Please take a sip.” I offered him the water while he was mopping his nose with a used tissue. He didn't say a word, just grabbed the bottle and took a couple of greedy gulps before he had to stop to breathe. His nose was sill visibly running from the left side. He pursed his lips together and tried in vain to sniffle it back, but it was no use anymore – all he could make was a short, muffled squeak that ended in the off-putting, gurgling sound of a heavy mass of thick mucus moving in a thoroughly congested head. He made a face so resigned I felt like something had grabbed and squeezed my heart a little. “Uhh... I feel horrible.”

“I bet you do,” I said, as gently as I could. “Hey, it would be good if you took this... I'll give you another one later if it doesn't get your temperature down enough.”

“Thagk you,” he said, taking the pill and downing it with another gulp of water. “I'm sorry I woke you up, dreams...” He covered his eyes with his hand, leaning forward. “Sorry, head is swimming..”

That's two “sorries” too much, you poor thing, just lie down for God's sake, I wanted to say, but just managed to resist the urge. “Must be the fever... perhaps you'd better lie down.”

He raised his head, looking confused, gazing into his palms. “Uh... I...” His brow furrowed slowly and his breath started to hitch. “Huh... HESSSSCHIIIGH! Eh... eh... He-ESSSCHIIGH!”

I swiftly snatched a couple of tissues from the box, half empty by now, and wiped the mess off his hands, while he sat there helplessly, coughing. “That cough is getting worse as well... “ I hesitantly took the liberty of wiping his nose clean too. “How on earth did you get yourself that sick,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. He didn't resist, just mumbled another barely audible “sorry”.

I sighed and grabbed his shoulder, guiding him back down. He closed his eyes, and I slowly pulled my hand back. When I watched him lying there, I couldn't help thinking that nevertheless he was beautiful. Strands of his hair, ever so slightly curly, stuck to his cheekbones and his forehead that glistened like glazed porcelain. If it wasn't for the unsightly state of his nose, he could have been an angel.

“Just... it doesn't make sense...” he suddenly mumbled drowsily. “Why were you dealing with such people?”

“I needed to borrow money. A lot of it.”

“Yes but... such people, how could... why would... a kind, cautious boy like you, it just... doesn't make sense.”

A boy? Luckily his patronizing attitude amused me at this point more than it irritated me. He could be a bit older than me, but I swear, not more than a year or two, really, three at most. There was a wry smile on my face when I answered: “Few things make sense in the middle of the night.”

“Yes but... you don't make sense in daylight either, you don't... you...” that was where he drifted back to sleep.

[Salamander]

Oh my goodness, this is absolutely wonderful. I saw you post the first part and waited to get a moment to sit and savour it, and I'm so very glad I did.

This is pure porn for the fever-whore in me. Your style is beautiful, your characters are intriguing. This is my favourite thing I've read in a while x

[JenJen]

Gwwwaaahhggghhhhh~

Oh Pig, such a sweet part two!

"It came in short, gushing series of sounds, he was very agitated, sometimes it almost sounded like he was begging."

Totally my favorite line. I can his noises so perfectly in my head. Poor, poor Marcus.

[ellwren]

This is great! Characters are really intriguing. I hope there's more! I like your combination of worldbuilding with plot and character interaction - how you subtly bring in the back story with minimal exposition.

Also, hotness.

[Ciuty80]

this is just too GREAT!!!

thanks pig for a second part!

[VoOs]

Imma steal your ability to write dialogue now, kthnxbye. <o>____<o>

[SterlingSilver]

PIG, HOLY MOTHER *%$)($Y*%^@()

I'm sorry, I can't be more coherent.

Why are you so amazing? This is absolutely delich-mmmmmm.. SO cute. SO adorable. SO heartwrenchingly lovely.

I want to see more of this most definetly <3

[telltale]

I adore this and everything you stand for. ;DDD

[Dusty15]

He made a face so resigned I felt like something had grabbed and squeezed my heart a little. “Uhh... I feel horrible.”

Ahhhhh gorgeous. I feel a little like that every time I see someone I like who is sick

[March Hare]

You are really good at this kind of thing... this building an entire, intriguing setting in just a few sentences and some chunks of well-turned dialogue. Also, as someone else said, HOTNESS. Your sneeze spellings spin my yaywheels!