Warbler drabbles!

[stephab13]

Hi guys,

Thank you all for your feedback and support. You are all amazing people.

Now. Uni is insane... I'm about to disappear for about 6 months time. I might be able to pop in on occasion - but I'll be harder to catch than Snorlax. I might still keep writing, but at least until this semester is over, I'll be hiding away in my bat cave, surrounded by anatomy and physiology books.

I wish you all the very best for the next 6 months. I'll try to post when I can. And, I'll definitely see you over the other side!

Take care,

Steph

[browneyes]

Nooo don't go

[stephab13]

Okay, I know I said I was going to hide, and I still won't make any promises. But, well, I wrote something in the few days before uni started again, and I now have a computer with my own personal internet I may as well upload for you :-)

So, I started off wanting to do more fetishist!Santana but that didn't want to come out... so instead you get this. I also have a little of a reunion story written - but it's going to take me awhile. Uni and work... yeah. No promises. But it is being written.

Hope this one is okay to tide you through a little though :-)

And thank you again for all the prompts. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to act on them, but, I promise you that they WILL EVENTUALLY get written. It just... may not be for a while. But I'm trying :-)

Alright. Enough rambling. Story time.

Prompt: Engage

Characters: Wes, Santana (cold)

“Choo…”

“Bless you.”

“Hik-choo.”

“Bless you.”

“Choo… choo… hik’choo!”

“Bless you… bless you… bless you!”

Santana shook her head… but groaned, promptly regretting it as her world spun around her. She cleared her throat – not that it did much good. “Just… hik’choo!... just stop, okay? I… choo… I have a… choo… a cold and whatever the hell you’re… hik’choo!... you’re wearing is probably bugging my nose,” she rasped, lying down across Wes’ lap and her Biology textbook falling open, abandoned, shoved roughly by his side.

“Babe…” He ran a hand through her hair, reaching across for the box of tissues by her bedside table. Her lack of snarky insults– pet names, by her standards – was worrying him a little. “You feel a little warm…”

“No shit, Sherlo-choo!” She coughed, though thankfully it didn’t sound overly chesty – just stuck somewhere up in her raw, swollen throat. “Fuck. I think… choo… it’s a sign. This cold… hik’choo!... obviously doesn’t want me to… to… choo… to insult you.”

He smiled. “Or else, karma’s just a bitch.”

She sneezed in agreement. “I just want this… choo! Hik’choo! Ah fuck. Come on! This… choo… sneezing… choo!... to sthik’choo!... to stop. It’s… hik’choo! Hik’choo!... driving me… choo… nuts. Ugh.”

Wes hummed, bending over to kiss right down the bottom of her throat, where he could practically feel the infection, in a temporary break between sneezes. It was rare to see his girlfriend like this, so vulnerable, with her nose dripping and her voice disappearing and her fire dampened by some form of rhinovirus and streptococcal bacteria. He was surprised that she’d still agreed to see him – usually when she was in a bad way she’d hide, whether behind bitchy comments or a locked door… there were a few days a month when Wes knew not to go anywhere near her… but something today had broken. Or maybe she just actually missed him – he’d been sick himself, then exams had come up and somehow things had just gotten in the way.

Santana must have been thinking a similar thing, as she rolled over onto her back to look at him, a hand hovering ready by the side of her mouth, tissue dangling down like a flag at half-mast on a still day. “You know, I’ve always… choo… found doctors to be… hik’choo!... kinda hot…”

“I did indeed,” he grinned, recalling the first time she’d said that… That was the first time he actually believed he stood a chance with the dragon. “Too bad I can’t say the same for sniffling, dripping messes like you…”

But Santana didn’t seem to hear his words. Or didn’t care. Or didn’t particularly feel like going over old history. “And like… you and me… hik’choo!... We’re pretty hot… choo… We do alright for ourselves. Hik’choo!”

He snorted. “Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

“So will you… hik’choo! Hik’choo! Hii’IISSH’oo!... will you marry me?”

Wes plucked a few more tissues for her. “Babe…. that’s the cold medicine talking.”

“Maybe,” she avoided, sniffing. “So, will you?”

He put a hand on her throat, this time kissing her forehead. “Sure.”

“Good. Choo.”

“Bless you… times 26.”

“Choo! Hik’choo!”

“Bless you! Bless you!”

“Hey, Wes? Hik’choo!”

“Bless you. Yes?”

“Choo. Screw you.”

“Yes, babe,” he grinned, running his fingers through her hair. “I’d be delighted.”

[stephab13]

Hello, my lovelies!

So... I'm not going to go on with the apologies yet again. I just had a midsemester exam last week though, so... hopefully things will calm down a tad :-)

I started a mini Warbler fic as well, on here, just in case you haven't seen it yet - taking DogLover's prompt for a sneezy reunion. Because they are adorable.

But this one is based on katia's - Wes can't stop sneezing while trying to give other warblers notes/critiques on their performances - which sounded probably a little too hot than I really want to imagine. Not entirely sure if it was the talking about music while sneezing that you wanted or just thought... I don't know. I do enjoy him going music nerd, and I'll have to put more in there on other occasions for you. But, sneezy Wes trying so hard to focus on his Warblers - and to stop the sneezing! ... and I may have gone overboard on the fit. But, hey. It had to happen at least once.

Hope you all enjoy it!

Prompt: Voice

Characters: Warblers, Wes (read to the end if you want to know why )

“Heh’kishh’oo! Ugh. Dambit.” Wes groaned, blowing his nose. Again. Why can’t I stop sneezing? “Heh… Heh’kishh! Heh’kishh’oo!” It wasn’t ragweed season. The room wasn’t dusty. Or, well, it may have been, but seeing how he’d woken up with a sneeze and there wasn’t a single room in the whole school that seemed to bring him any relief, he doubted it was a dust allergy playing up. No asthma meant it probably wasn’t either paint or illness… So, Wes had no idea.

It couldn’t come at a worse time, either. He was currently in the process of reviewing Warblers – something they did every 3-6 months. Being an all-boy’s school, breaking and changing voices made choir… interesting. So they liked to listen to everyone and adjust parts if necessary. And just to get general feedback. Only problem was, this semester had found the other two council members both missing, and Wes stuck in what was currently the 7^th hour of a long, drawn-out, sneezing fit.

“Bless you!” Nick, who’d just finished singing for him, smiled sympathetically. “It’s not allergies, is it?”

“Ndo idea,” Wes responded. “You’d think there’d be others mbiserable like mbe, if it were ndormbal allergies.”

“Yeah, I’ve been fine. And I haven’t heard a peep from Blaine either.” The younger brunette pulled a pack of travel tissues from his pocket, holding them out to the senior.

“Thandks… At least you got through your song without interruptiond…” He opened up the packet gratefully, finally able to wipe his nose with a dry Kleenex. “… I’mb sorry. What was I saying?”

Another sneeze was building, itching at his nose. Actually, it wasn’t really another one – all day there’d been one building, leaving him stuck in perpetual pre-sneeze. It was horrible… But this one was actually making itself known now, causing his breath to hitch again.

“Heh….!”

No. False start.

“I hate that!” Nick’s eyes were still twinkling at him, though they were warm and understanding. He wouldn’t make a deal of the sneezes – but he definitely got it. “Uh… you were saying something with pitch…”

“Ah. Ta.” Wes sniffed. “Yeah. Your pitch is actually pretty good, especially ind your upper ra-ge, but you ndeed to trust yourself mbore. Just sing with a little mbore condfidendce – because you’re ambazing. Truly. And, it’s and honour to sing with you.”

“Wow. Thank you!” Nick promptly turned bright red while his lips stretched to meet each eyes in a huge grin.

“Welcombe. Cand you send ind whoever’s ndext?”

“Course. Thank you.” Nick came over to shake his hand… it was one of those strange formalities that Wes couldn’t bring himself to shake. Then he turned and exited, brown hair bouncing in the light.

It was probably a good thing, too, Nick leaving then… Wes really needed to sneeze. Every inch of him earned for that build up of power, and expulsion of air – and hopefully the prickling in his nose with it. And maybe, just maybe, he could give himself enough of a fit before the next Warbler came in to be critiqued and assigned to the correct part. Maybe he could hide it then. It wasn’t that he was shy, so much. More that he was operating under the delusion that he was perfect, not plagued with human flaws – and sneezing was most definitely one of those.

“Heh… heh…”

Oh, come on.

“Ha-aaa-aaa…”

It was there. Right there. At the very tip. Pinching it didn’t really do anything…

“Heh… Heh...”

Nearly there.

Three.

Chest swelling. Huge air.

Two.

One.

“Heh’kissh’oo! Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh!”

That was better. The itching and burning had died down to a dull tingling when he noticed Trent standing in front of him.

“Bless you!”

More blessings. Though Trent had a mischievous grin on his face – he knew how much Wes hated drawing attention to whenever he sneezed, and so would have said it just to piss him off. Well, it wasn’t working. Not today.

“Thadks, Tredt. How are you goigg?”

“I’m great, thanks. And you sound horrible!”

“I’mb alright. Cad’t seemb to stop sdeezing though,” he admitted, “so mby advandce apologies if I idterrupt you at andy poidt.”

Trent smiled. “I hang out with Nick and Blaine. Trust me – I’m used to sneezes.”

“So, this will be your first official review, wond’t it?” Wes quickly changed the subject, getting straight down to business – not to defeat any Huns today though – because business is business, and business must grow, regardless of crummies in tummies, you know.

Great. Apparently the sneezing had affected his brain, and made him think in terms of Dr Seuss.

Trent nodded.

“Pretty buch, the head council mbember will check ond the others, listend to themb sigg, work out whether they ndeed to cha-ge parts, see how they’re doigg and just genderal feedback.”

I still ndeed to sndeeze…. Wes almost laughed, realising that even his thoughts now sounded congested.

“So, I’ll get you to sigg a couple of thiggs – whatever combes idto your head, add thend a few parts ond top of mbe – just to see how your voice is sitting. Yours probably hasnd’t cha-ged mbuch, but we’ll do it andyway. Heh’kishh’oo!”

Damn, that one snuck up on him.

“Bless you.”

Wes shook his head. “Dod’t. It’s godda happend a lot today.” He sighed. “I kndow I’mb gonda idterrupt you… but we have to go ond. Ndow, if you were to choose onde sogg to perform – with you soloigg – what would it be? Take a mbindute or so, add, whend you’re ready, I’ll listend. Let mbe kndow if you ndeed… ndeeeee… ndeed a ndote, too. Heh’kishh!”

“Bless you again.”

Wes stuck his tongue out. This was really starting to get on his nerves now… He wanted to crawl up into a private hole surrounded by tissues and antihistamines and dust filters - even though the notable abscence of asthma virtually rules out dust. But, Trent deserved his attention. He could only hope that the sternutation would keep to a minimum.

“I, uh… I’m ready,” Trent said, a little nervously though still with that cheeky grin. “Could I have a Bb please?”

“Heh’kissh’oo! No,” Wes grinned. So, it had morphed into one of those fits, with anywhere between 3 and 30 seconds between sneezes. Like hiccups. Okay. But he hummed the note anyway, leaning back in his chair to fully enjoy… sorry, critique… Trent’s performance.

Trent stood up, drew in a deep breath… and broke into the biggest smile Wes had seen from the freshman in a long time.

Spy on me baby, use satellite,

Infrared to see me move through the night.

Aim, gonna fire – shoot me right.

I’m gonna like the way you fight.

Oh, God. Tom Jones. Really?

“Heh’kissh’oo!”

Okay, he was allowed to laugh. Trent was obviously having fun, swishing around the council desk, grabbing Wes’ tie and shamelessly flirting – definitely an interesting side of the boy to see!

Now you found the secret code I use

To wash away my lonely blues

So I can’t deny or lie cos you’re

The only one to make me fly.

“Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh’oo!”

Sexbomb, sexbomb, you’re my sexbomb.

You can give it to me when I need to come along.

Sexbomb, sexbomb, you’re my sexbomb,

And, baby, you can turn me on.

Baby, you can turn me on.

Wes wolf-whistled as Trent’s song ended… and then sneezed again.

“Bless you!”

“Were you waitigg the endtire timbe to say that?”

“Maybe…” Trent stepped back away from the desk. “So… any comments? Did I do okay?”

“That was… heh’kishh’oo!... wo-derful. You’ve got a real… a real… heh’kishh!... a real edge to your voice that’s just a… heh’kishh! … a pleasure to listend to. Your pitch is – heh’kishh’oo!... perfect, add the condtrol you keep over both timbigg add… heh’kishh!... ndotes ndever fails to ambaze mbe – evend if you are the resident… heh’kishh’oo!... percussiondist. Add, what astou-ds mbe mbost of all, is how far you cand exte-d your chest voice ind both directionds – add… heh’kishh!... add I’d love to see how far we cand push a falsetto, ondce your voice findishes settling. But, well, I don’t think… heh’kishh’oo!... that we could ever perform that song.”

Trent pouted. “The Warblers need to loosen up a little. We deserve to have a little fun.”

“Add I dond’t disagree with you,” Wes thought aloud. “But… Sexbomb is a little… a little…”

“Inappropriate?”

“Heh’kishh’oo! Indappropriate,” he agreed, deciding to blow his nose again. Though he knew the burning wouldn’t let up until he’d had a massive bout of sneezing or three… “Sombe jazz could be a great cha-ge though. Do you listend to a lot?”

Trent honestly looked offended. “Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?”

Wes laughed, shaking his head. Only Trent… “So, if I asked you to scat, could you do it?”

“I do sing with the Warblers, you know.”

And, out came the sass. “Ndot as a soloist, you dond’t. Scat for… heh’kishh’oo!... for mbe. If you dare.”

Trent laughed, shaking his head.

It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing!

Shoo-be-doo-wop, shoo-be-doo-wop, shoo-be-doo-wop, shoo-be-do-wah!

Don’t mean a thing, all you gotta do is swing!

Scoo-be-doo-bop, shoo-be-do-wah, doo-be-doo-wop, doo-be-doo-bah!

And he absolutely nailed it. Here he stood, a mere boy of (not 12) 15, scatting to dual the masters. “You’d mbake Ella proud…” he murmured. “Damb, David add Blainde… Heh’kishh’oo!... ndeed to hear you sigg that. Heh’kishh!” He paused, thinking. “… We cad’t do Sexbomb, but Tomb Jondes is a definite… heh’kishh’oo!... possibility. If I start siggigg back-up, cand you… heh’kishh!... sigg solo ond top?”

“Are you gonna be able to stop sneezing long enough to sing back-up?”

Wes smiled. “Sndeezigg is partially a… heh’kishh!... a reflex. I cand distract mbyself add, mbaybe. Have you ever actually sndeezed ond stage? Heh’kishh’oo!”

“Now that I think about it…” Trent bit his lip. “No… and I had a monster of a cold for my last performance – I sounded like you do now!”

“Yeah. Your braind cand… heh’kissh!... cand sombetimbes prioritise it. Like, you also do-‘t tend to sndeeze under water. Kishh’oo! ... Breathigg is mbore imbporta-t.”

“True.”

Wes sniffed, trying not to either cringe or blush at the horrible liquid sound. Trying to sing would be at least worth a shot – and he didn’t want to waste Trent’s time. Plus, his chest was now starting to hurt and he was so tired, and his eyes felt bloodshot… Okay, he felt kinda bad and just wanted to get through everything as quickly as he could. Preferably before the uncontrollable sneezing fit that he could already feel brewing. “Alright. If I sndeeze, or if I stop combpletely – keep goigg. Heh’kishh!... I wadd to see how you go siggigg agai’st other parts, but... heh’kishh’oo!... we mbight just edd up seeigg how you deal with… heh’kishh!... distractions. Heh’kishh’oo!”

“How can you talk through the sneezes?” Trent asked. “I don’t sneeze like you do… but whenever I need to sneeze, all I can think about is breathing.”

Wes shrugged. “Practise. It’s beend like this all day.” Then ignoring the hiccup-like jolting and burning in his sinuses, Wes attempted to sing.

He managed to hold on through a verse… and then another… but when Trent got it’s not unusual to be mad with anyone, he had to break away, throwing a finger under his nose with such force he was surprised he didn’t knock out any teeth from his maxilla. With his other hand he first tried rubbing his nose, before deciding to pinch it near the tip… but he was fighting a losing battle. Then, as Trent started his next line… Wes began sneezing again.

It’s not unusual to be –

“Heh’kissh’oo!”

with anyone.

“Heh’kishh’oo!”

But if I –

“Heh’kishh’oo!”

That you’ve –

“Heh’kishh!”

At any time

“Heh’kishh’oo!”

It’s not unusu –

“Heht’CHOO!

To find that I’m in –

“Heh’knxt! Heh’knxt! Heh’knxt!”

At some point, Wes stopped listening to Trent singing. He couldn’t. The sneezes were just… too much… There was maybe a second now between sneezes – barely enough time to catch a breath.

“Bless you! God! Are you okay?”

“I’mb finde. Heh’kishh!... Just a little… heh’kishh’oo! … a little… heh’kishh!... a little sndeezy. Heh’kishh’oo!”

“You don’t say,” Trent replied sarcastically, but then his voice dropped, taking a more sympathetic quality. “You want some tissues or something?”

Wes shook his head, massaging the skin over his maxillary sinuses before trying to rest his head on the table. “A shovel… heh’kishh! … mbight be mbore effective. Hah-YISHHH’UH!” He groaned. “God… heh’kishh!... please…”

“Can’t catch a break, huh?”

“Heh’kishh’oo! Heht-CHOO! Heh’knxt!” They were even coming faster now, and stronger, making his chest hurt and head spin. “Knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Kishh’oo!” He couldn’t tell if the stifling helped or not… but they definitely jolted him. “Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Heh’knxt! Heh’kishh’oo!” He could feel Trent’s hand on his back, rubbing small circles up and down, and tried to focus on that, to try and gasp at some sort of rhythm. “Heh’kishh! Heh’kishh! Heh’knxt!” No, the stifling made them come even faster, take even longer before he could breathe again. “Knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Knxt! Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh’oo!” He was gasping, vision swimming.

“Jesus… Wes…”

“Cad’t… Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’knxt! Knxt!Knxt!Kishh! Kishh!Knxt’oo! Heh’KISHH’UH!...” Quick gasp. “Cad’t stop. Heh’kishh! Heh’kishh’oo!”

But then, almost as soon as he’d claimed that, like it was mocking him, his nose finally decided to stop – and with a final booming sneeze, sounding more like one from David than Wes, he collapsed down on the table, panting, trying desperately to just steady his breathing and get the oxygen and carbon dioxide flowing around his body in the right way again.

“You done?”

“Thick so…” Wes whispered. He felt like he’d just run a marathon… his heart was pounding, his chest was tight – probably the very beginnings of an asthma attack – and he wasn’t entirely sure he could see straight. Or that his nose and throat were still attached to his body.

“This room can’t be good for you…”

“I dod’t thikk I cad listed to you ady bore, Tre-t, I’b sorry.” He felt horrible. Such a great beginning to Trent’s Warbler career. “Id’s dot fair od you.”

But the freshman just shook his head, an almost ironic half-smile on his lips. “Honey, I’m surprised you’re still conscious. I’m more worried about you to care about my review. Now… Do you want to go back to your room?”

Wes shook his head. “Started sdeezigg there.”

“What are you allergic to? Dust?”

“Dot a dust allergy. Dot this tibe,” Wes muttered – but Trent either didn’t hear him or didn’t believe him.

“I think…” He paused, biting his lip. “Bathroom’s probably the cleanest place. And there’s water. And towels.” He slowly stopped rubbing Wes’ back – instead opting to drag one of the senior’s arms around his neck. “Alright. Up we get. Lean on me. We’ll get you out of here.”

“Tha-k you. I’b sorry.”

Trent sighed. “No apologising. Just concentrate on getting one foot in front of the other. Bathroom’s only a few doors down.”

“Bout 100 feet,” Wes said, voice remarkably steadier. “I coudted. You guys get sick too ofted.”

“Well, it’s about time we helped you out,” Trent replied. Though he stopped halfway down. “You smell something?”

Wes laughed. “You’re seriously askigg be thad?”

“Okay, bad question. But…” he frowned, and Wes began scrunching up his nose. “… you aren’t allergic to pine, are you?”

“Pide…?” Wes repeated, warily. But any other answer he had was stolen from him as, yet again, he found his breath hitching. “Heh’kishh’oo! Ughhhhh.”

Trent just grinned, steering them in the opposite direction. “You want some antihistamines?”

“Dot ad allergy. Heh’kishh!... It’s a sedsitivity. Beds do dothigg.”

“You poor bastard,” he smiled. “Well, I’ll tell the cleaning ladies to lay off the Pine-o-Sol. Meanwhile, let’s get you into bed and open some windows… and maybe steer clear of the 3^rd floor bathroom!”

[DogLover]

Oh, so lovely! Weeeeeeeeees...

I loved how he was so sneezy, and I thought he couldn't get any sneezier, and then he did! And of course I love musicnerd!Wes. And extended sneezing fits. And people trying to just keep going about their business while having them. And talking through them. And (this is a new and fantastic one), singing through them holycrapthatwashot. And mystery!allergy fics where you find out the reason for the sneeziness. So, basically, this pushed all the right buttons

Also, yay things might be calming down, so you'll be around more! I was kinda confused as to how it's already midsemester in August, but then I realized that there's probably a different schedule in the southern hemisphere. (You are an Aussie, right?)

[katia]

xxoxooxo WONDERFUL

[Zane]

"OH MY GAGA!!!!!" You......You wrote more Wes ones.............. I....I think you killed me..........

[Emily]

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWWWWEEEEEEE

I never watched Glee and I don't think I will because your stories are totally enough to get my overly active imagination going and fantasizing all these sneezy boys holy jesus

and I think I may have died a little just now reading the Wes one.

[stephab13]

DogLover: Yep, most definitely an Aussie! Though mid-semester break is a little misleading... Both of my subjects have two mid-semesters (ignoring the fact that one of them is the second last week of term...) But, God. Wes... I think I need to do a second drabble series, just for him. With lots of music-nerdiness and crazy-arse fits like that

katia: Hope I did it justice for you!

Zane: Hahahaha of course I did more Wes ones. I mean... it's Wes. Come on. But, don't die! I'll miss your crazy expressive emoticons!

Emily Wow. Thank you! Although, I will also say, don't watch Glee No one hates it more than the fans. And I'm blaming that largely in part to the notable absence of my boys post season 2. Even in season 2... But, I love my boys... And... I may have died a little writing Wes' latest as well...

So, this one is, yet again, for DogLover, who I really can’t thank enough for her prompts. This one was, “Sometime around Regionals: the Warblers play a prank on Sebastian that involves sneezing. Or, alternately, New Directions does.” Of course, the plot bunnies didn’t want me to get away with this straight the first time – so, I’m extending this, because I can’t just deprive you all of Grant, now, can I?

Also, as a side-note... I really don't like writing Sebastian in such a one-sided manner. You'll get more dimensions of him later. It's just that this is a seriously BIASED viewpoint, especially after the slushee incident.

Prompt: Awkward

Characters: Nick, Jeff, Trent, Sebastian

“This has got to end!” Nick spat furiously, pacing around the room. “I don’t care whether he knew about the damage it would cause or not. Kurt was our friend – Blaine was our friend – and we were all too weak to stand up for them. We let them down.”

“We let ourselves down,” Trent said from his bed, leaning back against his elbows.

“We didn’t know Andrew was going to tamper with it,” Jeff tried to calm them down. “I feel horrible. Really, I do. Sure, they jumped ship, but nothing deserves what that bastard gave them.” Okay, maybe even the Aussie was a little to riled to think straight.

“It was just a slushee though… right?” Trent asked with a sniff. He’d been the only Warbler who refused to take part. The only one with any guts, brave enough to stick up for their friends. The only one who stood unnoticed and watched, who rushed to Blaine’s side and went with them to the hospital… “I mean… I mean, I know it wasn’t, I know there was stuff in there. But, morally...”

Nick finally stopped pacing, dropping by Trent’s side. “Morally, you’re the only one in the clear. Trent, you have nothing to be ashamed of. The rest of us, on the other hand…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Nick.”

“But we’re just sitting here!” Nick responded. “We can’t let him get away with this. We just can’t.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Jeff stiffened.

“An eye for an eye?”

“I’m never looking at a slushee the same way again,” Trent whispered. “We can’t take Sebastian’s eye – even if Blaine does end up losing his. It’s not right.”

“But we have to do… to do… heh’ngt!... to do something!” Nick continued, ignoring the sneeze. “Not to the same extent. No grievous bodily harm. But something to let him know that what he did… heh’ngt! Heh’ngt!... is not okay.”

Jeff looked over at his boyfriend, hand automatically pulling a tissue from his pocket. “You know what?” he asked, a small smile on his face – the lightbulb over his head was practically tangible. “I think I might have an idea…”

And so the plan was hatched. The next day, Trent, as the only person who could actually call himself Sebastian’s friend, would run interference. Meanwhile Nick, who was on laundry duty for the house, would find some way of covering Sebastian’s clothes with sneezing powder, and Jeff would pour it all over the sheet music they were planning to use next rehearsal – which Sebastian, as captain, was in charge of handing out – so as to embarrass him at the most opportune moment.

What could possibly go wrong?

Jeff supposed, in retrospect, that he should have known something was off the next morning. Perhaps Nick sneezing wasn’t that strange – it was winter, there were heaps of bugs going around, and his boyfriend never had the strongest immune system to begin with… But, even still, the boy was clearly miserable from the sheer amount of sneezes just over breakfast – and his eyes, while watering, hadn’t begun to itch or swell. Which… wasn’t like normal allergies… And he still had normal colour and appetite, so he didn’t seem sick…

They’d met, as usual, outside Jeff and Sebastian’s door before brekkie. But, even before the door had opened, as he waited for Sebastian to finish buttoning his shirt, he could hear Nick and David outside.

“Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt!... Oh, man! … Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt’chuh!”

“Bless you! You getting sick again?”

“I hope… heh’ngt! Heh’ngt’chhh!... hope not. Jeff, hurry up and get your… your… heh’ngt! Ngt! Ngt!... your ass out here!”

“Allergies then?”

“Heh’ngt! Far out! David, I have no idea. I’m just… sneezy today. Heh’ngt’choo!”

“Jeff, we need your magic healing hands out here!”

“How do you know about those?” He heard Nick mutter, before raising his voice through the door. “Jeff? You cheating on me? Heh’choo! Heh’ngt!”

“You might want to bring some tissues, if you have any, too, Jeff. Hurry up, man!”

Jeff didn’t really notice Sebastian’s smirk. Or, well, he did, but, well, there was a reason why he was nicknamed Meerkat… He didn’t, in any case, see the slightly stronger sadistic influence in the smirk that morning anyhow.

“Just open the door,” Sebastian waved, taking his own precious time with his uniform. “It’s not like they’ve never seen a shirtless guy before. And, I mean… I have nothing to be shy about.”

Jeff gave him a once-over. “I’d rather my boyfriend didn’t have to ogle you, thanks,” he replied, somewhat coldly.

“Ah, go give him a kiss. I’ll see you later… Tell him I hope he’s feeling better soon.”

Even those words didn’t trigger anything… So many warning signs he should have picked up on… But instead, Jeff was just glad to get out of his company. “I shall. Ta. See ya at brekkie.” Then he grabbed the Kleenex box from his bedside table and rushed out to greet his friends.

“And, again!” Sebastian clapped, a little breathlessly. “You all sound heavier than the contestants of The Biggest Loser after being let into Wonka’s factory. You’re more off-beat than Tory Blake, and flatter than Emma Watson’s chest. And, for God’s sake, Nick, can you stop?”

Jeff glanced over at his boyfriend in concern. Nick had half-turned away at the back, stifling sneeze after near-silent sneeze into his hands, in another of God-only-knows-how-many fits for the day, his whole body jolting forwards. “That’s out of order, mate.”

“Organising you lot is like herding cats. Having one of our soloists sneezing non-stop is not helping.”

“That’s not fair!” Thad spat, rubbing Nick on the back.

“Well, I’ve got news for you, Thad,” Sebastian sneered. “Life isn’t fair. You better get used to it now, because you’ll be in for a rather rude awakening otherwise.”

But Nick shook his head, letting loose one final sneeze. “I can’t help it, Seb, add I’mb sorry. But I should be good for the mbeantimbe.”

“Yeah, well, we’re out of time for your solo,” the captain stated. “Maybe next week – but now we have to move on. I’ve got some new music in the desk though – could you bring it to me?”

That’s when bells finally started ringing for Jeff… though he was still praying… With Nick’s nose today as sensitive as it was… well, something had to be causing it… but if he picked up that folder, flicked through it, spreading sneezing powder everywhere… Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing the Warbler desk also held a few spare umbrellas…

Nick just smiled, desperate to prove himself – though Jeff saw the flicker of fear split his face like a bolt of lightning. “Of course. Tob drawer ond the left?”

“That’s right. Thanks.” And nobody could miss the smirk that time – the whole room was watching them nervously, even though none other than the four boys knew what was going on.

Nick bent down, sliding the drawer open… Jeff watched his nose twitch, his eyes flutter shut ever so briefly… a hand raising to his irritated nose, rubbing the side, covering it… a small groan… his breath hitching… But, nothing. He crossed the room, one hand keeping the folder firmly closed, and handed it over to Sebastian. "Here.”

“Thanks, Nick. It’s nice to know you’re still good for light duties.” Sebastian then opened the folder, coughing as some fine white dust rose… coughing straight towards the brunette, who hadn’t the time to duck out of blast radius.

The effect was instantaneous. “Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt! Ngt! Ngt! Heh’ngt’chuh! Heh’ngt’chOO!”

“Bless you!”

Jeff rushed to his side… but Nick hadn’t finished.

“Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt!... Oh, fu… fahhhh… Heh’ngt! Ngt’choo!... Ow… God… Heh’ngt! Heh… HRRRRASHOO!”

With the final bellowing sneeze, Nick blushed beet red and dropped to the ground. Jeff instantly sat next to him, pulling his baby over to him, handing him yet another Kleenex and allowing him to burrow his warm face into his neck. “Bloody hell. Are you okay?”

There was a small noise of assent, muffled as the sound hit his skin, and a tiny jolt as Nick sniffed.

“Wow. Sorry about that, Nick,” Sebastian said from above – though he didn’t appear overly apologetic. “Didn’t realise the folder had collected so much dust overnight.”

Jeff wanted to spit at him… but instead, he just wrapped his arms around his boyfriend a little tighter, more defensively… Wes might have said, marking his territory a little more clearly… though all he wanted to do was to protect Nick from further embarrassment.

“I’mb finde,” Nick whispered. “Jus’… Do I have to mbove?”

“No, of course not,” Jeff reassured him. “You stay right here with me. I’m sure the others won’t mind at all. Sebastian can work around us… Can’t he?” he addressed back up at their leader.

“It’s funny… Dust really gets me sneezing too…”he continued, feigning unawareness of what he’d caused… if Nick’s lungs started acting up…

But… he knew. Jeff didn’t know how he knew, or what he’d done, but he knew what they’d tried. Nick was like this because of him. Hadn’t he done enough?

“But you know what gets me even more than dust?” He dropped down next to Nick, the Warblers all glaring at him – though he seemed unaffected by the hatred they all felt. “Laundry powder.” With that he clapped Nick on the shoulder… and a fine mist of white powder fluttered out – the same concoction of washing powder and white pepper that should have been all over Sebastian.

Nick whined, tears springing to his eyes, forced from frustration and embarrassment and the sheer desperation to rid his nose of all irritants.

“Baby…” Jeff had clapped a hand instantly over Nick’s face to try and stop him inhaling any of the cloud. “He’s allergic to the powder, you prick.”

Nick squirmed, coughing a little, before his breath began itching… with an audible wheeze.

“How was I expected to know there’d be crap all over his blazer?” Sebastian asked innocently, words dripping with hidden malevolence.

“I… You…”

Nick whined again, rubbing his nose desperately against Jeff’s chest.

“Just let them out, baby. It’s better for your lungs that way.”

“You know, I think our clothes might be a similar size…” Sebastian pondered. “Maybe they got mixed up in the laundry?”

“I’mb… gonda… gonda… hehhhh…”

“Shh, Nick. It’s okay.”

Sebastian bent down, pulling at the tag on the collar of Nick’s blazer. “Would you look at that? It is mine.”

That bastard. He’d switched it. After the sneezing powder had been poured everywhere. Nick had been constantly sneezing all day, verging on asthma all day… because of Sebastian.

“Gonda… heh’ngt! Heh’ngt! Ngt!”

“Well, isn’t this awkward?” Sebastian drawled, smirking as Nick finally bent over with sneezes, conveniently ignoring the glares from Jeff – and the rest of the Warblers. “You need to be more careful, Nick. Don’t want to go getting my allergen-ridden laundry with your sterilised clothes.”

“Heh’ngt’choo! Heh’ngt’choo! Heh’ngt! Heh’ngt! Screw… screw… heh’ngt’choo! Heh’ngt! Ngt!” Nick gasped. “Screw you. Heh’ngt’choo!”

Jeff didn’t think he’d ever hated anyone, but now? Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing he hadn’t picked up Wes’ temper.

“So, if you don’t mind, I’ll be off to collect my own nice, clean, laundry.” He even had the nerve to place a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “You take care now. And to the rest of you?” He turned to the group. “Rule one of warfare: never underestimate the power of your opponent.”

“Heh’ngt’CHOO!”

[Bgrace27]

wow. so great!

[stephab13]

And, finally, a continuation of the last one. Should be one more part, I'd imagine.

... And, 5 more weeks til exams are over!!!

Prompt: Lower

Characters: Thad, Jeff

They weren’t entirely sure when it had happened, but sometime after the infamous clothes-switching-and-sneezing incident, the Warblers all banded together for Project X.

Their mission? To make Sebastian pay. Preferably by inducing a sneezing fit big enough to rival one of Blaine’s.

Jeff was the one leading the charge – as Nick’s boyfriend, and Sebastian’s roommate, he was in the best position to monitor the leader, to gather as much information as he could… and to protect Nick from any irritants that just always seemed to find themselves in his room throughout the course of a day.

However, with great power comes great responsibility, or something equally as pithy.

Such as a pale and red-eyed Thad standing in front of him just outside the changing rooms, before PE.

“God, you look horrible!” Jeff said, watching his friend sniff. “Are you alright?”

Thad shrugged, before glancing off into the distance… His eyes flew out of focus, his face contorting before he bent over, sneezing into his cupped hands.

“Bless you…” Jeff handed him a tissue. “Is this the next cold going around?”

“Hrrr’USH’oo!” Thad stood up, and shook his head, before bending over again. “… nnn’GTCH’uh! Heh’ASH!... Ugh…”

“Allergies?”

“No.” Thad blew his nose, watering eyes locking into his. “But I have a favour to ask…”

“What’s that?”

“Can you tell everyone… hehhh’ASH’uh!... where Sebastian’s locker is? It’s not… ESHOO!... It’s not the lower one!!!”

[stephab13]

secretsneezelover: Thank you!!!

Hey guys!!! So, semester has finished, finally!!! I have... 3 weeks, I think, until exams are done, plus a concert tomorrow and my driving test on Wednesday :D So, most likely (though you've seen what happens whenever I say this ) this will be the last installment until my exams are done. But it's so close, I can virtually taste it. HOMG.

So this one is still a continuation of DogLover's prompt, but, of course, I can never actually stick to the prompts, so... it's very... periphrastic? So I'll definitely do this one again, because, dear God, I know what I can do for it and I want to do it justice. That being said, you still get some miserable!Sebastian today, along with caring!Jeff :-)

So, here we go.

Prompt: Plead

Characters: Sebastian, Jeff

“HeeeISHOO!”

Abso-bleeding-lutely fantastic.

He knew they were out to get him. Not in the paranoid-sitting-rocking-in-a-cupboard-with-a-foil-hat-on out-to-get-him. But out to get him in the sense that he knew he’d screwed up, majorly, and every single person that he’d ever let himself think he had a chance of being friends with… hated him, and now, for whatever reason, were trying to prank him… by making him sneeze.

Even Jeff. Jeff, who had stood down all of his advances. Jeff, the kind, blond Australian roomie, who put up with all of his crap. Jeff, the only person who still, to this day, didn’t hate him. Even Jeff was trying to bring him down.

“Bleshoo,” came a mumbled, mostly-asleep, response as sheets rustled and his roommate rolled over in his own bed.

Of course today he’d wake up sick. He’d wake up with a sneeze, that he didn’t even have time to cover or muffle, that would probably end up waking the other half of his room.

At least it was 5:30 am, and close enough time to be waking up.

… He had to sneeze again. It was right there, at the edge of his nose, all throughout his sinuses. A burning, itching sensation, spreading down his nasal passage. Not like ants were running through them – like a dust allergy might. Not even ants carrying torches, like would happen on the first day of spring before the antihistamines kicked in again. It was like… an army of pollen that had come to life, marching up and down his swollen and probably hideously blocked nasal passages as his head throbbed to the beat of whatever goddamn song he happened to be arranging.

Sebastian whimpered, then promptly broke into a fit of coughing.

“Seb?” He heard Jeff sit up, rummaging through his bedside table for… something.

“Hep-choo-choo!” He almost breathed a sigh of temporary relief to finally sneeze… but it caught in his raw throat, and he curled over in bed, chest jolting as he tried desperately not to cough out loud again.

“Y’okay?”

There was a weight near his chest as the bed depressed – Jeff having sat down right by him – and frozen, dry fingers against his forehead.

“Seb? Y’alright, ma’e? Talk t’me.”

He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t bring himself to look into those compassionate brown eyes. He didn’t deserve to see the warmth and understanding there. All he deserved was just… to lie here, in bed, in this absolute misery, with one of the fabled gavels in his head and acid pouring down his throat with the post-nasal drip and…

Goddammit, he really needed to sneeze.

And he didn’t want a roommate that cared enough, that he would get out of bed at 5:30 in the morning because he sneezed. Who would get out of bed, and run through the room to find antihistamines and cold and flu crap and a bottle of water, because he happened to wake up coughing. Who was pulling out an ear thermometer, because he was shivering and obviously sick. He didn’t deserve to be looked after. Especially not lately. And especially not by Jeff.

“Jesus,” the Australian cursed. “You don’t do things by halves, do ya?”

“Wha?” He managed to get out.

“Your temperature’s 103.7.”

Sebastian just sneezed in response, another double that scraped right at the back of his throat. Not that it really made a difference… he was so stuffed up that absolutely nothing was coming out… especially not the itching. If anything, sneezing almost made it worse.

“Seb? Can you hear me?”

“Wha?”

Jeff shook his head. “Don’t fall asleep on me, mate.”

“Ndo, ndot asleep…” he murmured, clearing his throat. He looked over at Jeff, who was now trying to pull his doona off him. “Ndo, Jeff. Please.” He kicked out, pulling the covers tighter to his body. “So cold…” And his head was so heavy… his eyes closed…

“Sebastian!”

“Wha…?”

There was a sigh. “You fell asleep.”

“Ndo… I was restigg mby eyes.”

“Bet they’re burning, hey?”

Sebastian nodded, opening them only a tiny slit, filtering out the light… which he couldn’t believe was only coming from the bedside lamp. It was like someone had replaced the usual dim bulb with a search light… or a laser, directed straight into his skull. “Too bright…”

“Sorry.” A click and the light faded out. Then some foil and plastic popping… like pills.

“Too loud…”

Jeff sighed again. “I’ve got Advil.”

“Ndo.” He didn’t want help. Didn’t deserve it.

“It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Ndo. Please.”

“Come on, Seb. Open up.”

“Don’t let Ndicky hear you say that.”

Jeff groaned. “Just open up and swallow.”

“Don‘t thindk that’s mbuch of an imbprovembent.”

“You’re lucky you’re sick,” Jeff said, taking advantage of Sebastian’s gaping mouth and throwing a couple of tablets in. “Otherwise, you’d never get away with that.”

“Finde. Sorry.” He swallowed the ibuprofen, grimacing at the sudden pain ripping through his throat. He knew he could be a bit of an ass sometimes, particularly when sick. And Jeff didn’t deserve that…

“How are you feeling?”

Sebastian rolled away from the blond, coughing into his hand.

“The meds will kick in soon.” Jeff leant over to brush a few wisps of hair from his sweaty forehead, trying – and failing – not to cringe at the heat… and how horrible he must seem.

“Why are you beigg so ndice to mbe?”

“Because apparently I inherited Wes’ unfounded compassion along with his gavel,” Jeff said with a fond roll of his eyes. “Or maybe because you’re sick, and the others are going to keep giving you crap regardless. You deserve at least one friend.”

No, he didn’t.

“Do you want anything? Tea?”

“It’s five ind the mbordigg…”

“Right you are.” Jeff grinned. “Irish whiskey then?”

“Hep-choo! Hehhhh-HIKSCH’oo!”

“Bless you!” A tissue box appeared by his side, though he was loathe to take any. He already knew that he’d spend most of the day blowing and rubbing at his nose – most of it to no avail, other than rubbing and chapping the skin – and he was an actor, dammit. His face was like an empty canvas. Uneven texture would not help anything.

… And now he was starting to sound like Gayface-the-honorary-Warbler.

No. Once-Warbler. He’d forced the others away from them, and now Kurt and Blaine were gone.

… Kurt and Blaine.

He really was a bastard sometimes.

A tear trekked down the inlet of his nose, and he wiped it away hastily. He wasn’t crying, as such. More that… well, he was sick, and being sick always made him more thoughtful, more introspective… And while he had many regrets, while virtually all of his facets were sharp and cutting… he was never a bully. Mean, yes. Crude, yes. Spoilt, deceitful, manipulative, yes. But, abusive? Never before. Being here, he’d crossed some sort of boundary… and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to toe the line back to humanity again.

“Hey…” Jeff’s hand was on his shoulder. The Australian was so… touchy-feely. Sebastian was finally starting to get used to that again – to not be treated like a disease, and a remarkably contagious one at that – but all the contact was doing at the moment was radiating pain through his entire arm. “What’s wrong?”

His breath was hitching. I’mb ndot cryigg,” he whispered, his voice only a little shaky. “I just… ndeed to sndeeze.”

At least Jeff had the decency not to pry. “You want some help with that?” He grimaced a little – Sebastian could see it now, the lights had gone out and the trickle of daylight through the crack in the curtains… wasn’t blinding. “I, uh…”

“I kndow what you guys have beend doigg,” Sebastian said, for once trying to keep the snark or sarcasm out of his words. “I deserve it. It’s okay.”

“Oh.” Jeff sounded… he couldn’t tell. But then there was a whiff of air as he smiled. “Well… I do have a heap of white pepper, if you want…”

“Ndo. Please.”

“Fair enough.”

They drifted into silence again, bar Sebastian’s heavy breathing through his drooping mouth and the occasional cough or sneeze. Jeff had settled himself at his desk by the window, his pen scratching away as he worked at his homework in the near-dark, and Sebastian just lay there shivering, trying to will himself back to sleep.

But apparently, despite his every attempt to be quiet and not impose any more than necessary, it was too much for Jeff. “Seb? Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Water or tea or some toast or jelly or anything?”

“Uh…” He coughed. “Cand I have sombe water? Please?”

“Of course!” Jeff pulled out a bottle from his magical bedside-table-slash-kitchen-sink. “I forgot how polite you are for a sick person.”

“Shuddap.”

“Is there anything else you want?” The back of Jeff’s hand brushed against his forehead again.

Sebastian bit his lip. “Ndo…”

But Jeff saw straight through his lie. “Yeah, there is. Out with it.”

“Finde.” Sebastian turned his head to look the blonde in the eye. “I’mb really cold…”

Jeff stared at him. “What?”

Time to turn on the puppy dog eyes. “I’mb cold.”

“Actually…” Jeff grinned. “You’re really hot. And don’t you dare make any comments about Nick.”

”Hep-choo! Hep-choo! Hep-choo!”

“Bless you.”

Just what he needed to make him appear more pitiful. But he wasn’t quite finished. “Hep-choo! Hep-choo! Heh… heh… heh’ISHHH’oo!”

“Bless! Bet that cleared out your system…” Jeff wrinkled his nose, holding out the Kleenex box.

“Tha’k you.” Sebastian groaned. “Please, Jeff. I’b so cold…”

The blonde shook his head… then sighed. “Shove.” Then he crawled on top of the bed, letting Sebastian collapse into him and melt into the supposed warmth he was taking from his body.

“Tha’ks.” And with a small whimper – though this one more of content than pain for once – Sebastian began to fall asleep.

[gummiflummi]

Months ago I was using my miracoulous google skills in order to find me some good sneezy fluff fiction and I ended up here in this thread. I've been following you ever since, never able to comment on your beautiful work ... until last night, when I decided to get an account.

And here I am again, thanking you for sharing all these epic drabbles and promising to make up for all the times I wasn't able to point out all my favourite moments.

Starting now: I just love the fact that Jeff is Australian. And Sebastian all feverish - yum.

[stephab13]

gummiflummi, Welcome to the forum! LOL That's exactly how I found here as well! But very glad I did... It's nice to have a place to, er, let my fetish out without fear of judgement :-) Thank you! I love the fact Jeff is Aussie too... He's so easy to write that way. And, Sebastian. Oh, my darling. I'm so mean to him. And you guys don't even know the half of it yet... Thanks for commenting though! And I hope the rest of what I post is to your liking! Feel free to prompt me, too, if there's anything you want to see - prompts are love :-)

So, yep, Wes decided he wanted to be tortured. I'm totally going to blame this on my Wavel earrings that came today. And, yes, you read that right. I have a pair of earrings where one is Wes and the other is a gavel.

... I think the store owner thought I was nuts, but, hey. Wavel are forever!

But, yes. Despite what I know I should be doing, I've been writing. But but but but I really need to study, so hopefully the two that get posted tonight will tide us all through for the next 3 weeks...

So, yep, first up, you get some sick!Wes and Wevid bromance :-)

Prompt: Caring

Characters: Wes (beginning a cold), David

Words: 1,907

“Oh mby God.”

David looked up in concern at his best friend. He’d noticed the senior a bit… quieter than normal tonight. Not worryingly so – he did, after all, have 8 pieces of assessment this week, plus a few of the Warblers were sick so of course Wes was running himself to the ground trying to look after all of them as well as get his studying and assignments done. So, him sitting by the late-night fire with a box of tissues beside him… may have been slightly unusual, but not unexpected. “You okay?”

Wes exhaled. “Yeah, finde.” He groaned, snaffling some Kleenex from the box. “I’d kill to sndeeze right ndow though.”

“You sick?”

Wes tilted his head, crease forming between his eyebrows as he peered over the top of the tissues he was holding to his face. “Hope ndot.”

“You sound sick…” David had to be careful. All the signs were there – the quietness, the pallor which he’d just assigned to stress before… the quiet sniffling all night. “Are you hot?”

Wes shrugged, tissues still pressed to his nose. “Your mbother certaindly thinks so.”

And the deflection with a joke. He sounded so congested… which was definitely, for Wes, very easily passed off as allergies. So, the denial… yep. Whatever it was, he was sick.

Finally he gave up, blowing his nose. “Ugh. God. Sorry. Apparently my sinduses have turned indto a tap…”

“Ew.” David crinkled his own nose. “Maybe you should take a break?”

Wes looked down at his watch. “Ndah. Id’s ondly 10. I’ll findish mby chemb report first.”

“Chem report?” David frowned. “Didn’t you hand that in today?”

“Oh…” Wes had plucked another few tissues out. “Yeah, mbaybe…”

David couldn’t help but raise a hand to his friend’s forehead… which thankfully was about room temperature. Maybe a little warmer… but definitely not the burning he was expecting.

Wes sighed. “Damb it. If I could just freaking sndeeze…”

“Ew.”

“You’re telling mbe,” his friend muttered, before giving another gurgling blow. “Ughhhhh. How can it possibly be this full already?!”

David shook his head. “You are so sick.”

But he cracked up as Wes, rather maturely, stuck out his tongue. “Yeah, okay, mbaybe I’mb getting a cold. I always get sick around ndow…”

“Ew.”

“Honestly, David, do you really ndot have andy other words to say? I was under the imbpressiond that English was your best subject?”

“Ew.”

Wes shook his head, before kneading his forehead. Of course he’d get a sinus headache. David knew him too well by now – knew the warning signs to look for. Next would come the clearing of the throat before humming – obviously meant to hide the fact that his throat was absolutely killing him – and then either coughing as the infection established itself around his chest, or sneezing. Hopefully, for both their sakes, it’d be the latter – because a frustrated-and-desperate-to-sneeze!Wes was never fun. “You are so mbature.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

“Ugh.” He sniffed. “That’s what your mbother said to mbe last ndight.”

“Wes…”

“She’s kindky, that womband. I had ndo idea… the thi’g she cand do with a gavel…”

“Wes! Ew! Stop!” David shook his head… though at least, no matter how terrible it may be, he hadn’t lost his sense of humour.

“Alright. You used the safe word.”

“What?!”

Wes smiled, blowing his nose yet again. “Ew.”

“Ew?”

“David, you are ndot a parrot. Use your words.”

He groaned. “Is this meant to be making sense?”

Wes winked at him. “Our safety word. It’s, ew.”

“Ahhhhh! WES! You are so dead.”

He was about to punch him, though, when it happened. Wes cleared his throat, then softly began singing Rumour Has It.

“You are sick.”

Wes shrugged sheepishly. “I ndever admbitted to that.”

“It’s not a weakness to be sick, Wes. Especially with the amount of stress you’re under.” David shrugged his blazer off, placing it over the shoulders of his friend. “Come on. You need to get some rest at some point in time.”

But, in the distraction of keeping Wes warm, the senior had picked up a pencil, brought out a fresh lined page and was flicking through The Great Gatsby. “I have and essay tomborrow. I ndeed to go over quotes add thembes.”

“Wes, you can recite F. Scott Fitzgerald by heart, you know the text so well. Just make up some stuff about the colours and how they reflect the American dream.”

But, he wouldn’t budge. Not even to drag a tissue under his nose.

“Wes, remember the appendicitis incident? We don’t need a repeat. There’s no point working yourself to death.”

Wes just sighed heavily, clearing his throat again and pressing the back of his hand to his nostrils. “It’ll ondly take mbe mbaybe half and hour. Please, David. Let mbe keep workigg.”

Now it was the African-American’s turn to sigh. “Fine. Whatever.”

“I know you care, David. You’re worried. But I’mb okay. I prombise.”

He never looked up from his text at all during that conversation. “Blow your nose,” David reminded him as Wes sniffed rather wetly. “And I’ll go make you some tea, alright?”

He looked up at that stage, and David had to bite his tongue to stop himself gasping. It seemed like in the last ten minutes Wes had already deteriorated – his eyes were bloodshot and sunken, and the skin under his nose was rubbed raw and glistening slightly. He honestly looked thinner, tireder, weaker… but there was still the flame burning in his eyes. “Tha’k you,” he said, genuinely, giving a tiny smile. “I wo’t be too lo’g. I kndow I’mb a stubborn idiot, but I really do appreciate it.”

“Welcome.”

It was so typical of him. David wished he knew how to get Wes to see that… to allow himself to be human, to not be afraid of everyone leaving him if he showed what a mess he really was. But, to Wes, anything less than 100% selflessness was considered selfish, and therefore would act almost like a demerit point on his road to redemption. So instead of doing the normal thing – admitting being ill, maybe taking it easy for a few nights, he’d push himself to the absolute limit until he ended up dropping. The first time it had happened, he’d gotten appendicitis and missed three weeks of school. After that it was mononucleosis, then it was the 107 fever, then… the dislocated shoulder… David was pretty sure there was a month of pneumonia hidden somewhere in there, too – though, of course, he’d still sung lead for half the Warbler setlist then, despite the distinct lack of oxygen floating round his body…

God, the idiot. He was. Why couldn’t he just admit to being sick? Then David – and the rest of the Warblers, too, because, despite how well Wes could cover his tracks, family were family and they always knew something was up – wouldn’t worry themselves to death for weeks. Why could he not just let himself be taken care of, for once? Because that’s what family was – give and take. But for Wes, it was all just give, give, give.

The kettle boiled, and he poured it into a mug with some chamomile tea, a cinnamon stick and honey. He cupped it in his hands, breathing in a little of the fumes as he walked back to the common room.

To his surprise, Wes’ nose was no longer stuck in the book – but it wasn’t stuck inside a fistful of tissues either. Instead, it was flat against the surface of the desk, his nostrils flaring wildly.

David set the mug down on a coaster, then bent down to look into Wes’ glazed eyes. “Dude. What the hell?”

Wes blinked at him, looking sheepish. “I, uh…” He coughed. “I thought mbaybe sombe of the cleandigg stuff mbight be ond the desk add I could smbell it, cos that always mbakes mbe sndeeze. But, I ca’t smbell a thi’g, and ndothigg is workigg add mby ndose is killi’g mbe, David. It itches…” he whined, sitting down in a huff.

“Yeah, that tends to happen when you have a cold.”

Wes just poked out his tongue.

“Did you try looking in the light?”

He nodded. “I evend tried getti’g sombe dust fromb the mbandtlepiece. Ndothigg. I really, seriously, desperately ndeed to sndeeze. It’s drivigg mbe crazy!”

David sighed. The whining… The fact that he’d dropped all pretence – and his books – was even more worrying than before. “Here.” He pushed the tea over. “I know you’re not Blaine and you don’t react to the cinnamon, but if your nose is really sensitive, the fumes might be enough…”

Wes had already buried his nose in the cup. “Heh… heh… heh… Oh, God, combe on!”

“Drink your tea.” David took the senior’s moment of distraction to pack up his things neatly. Perhaps if he was that desperate, he could convince him he’d gone through it all already…

“It’s right there, David,” Wes pleaded. “Right at the tip. I cand feel it.” He scrubbed furiously over the vestibulum. “I ndeed to… to… to… heh-heh-heh-heh-heh…”

David sighed. “You trust me?”

“Heh… heh… of… of course…”

“And you know I’m straight, have a girlfriend, and absolutely no interest in you whatsoever?”

“Yes… heh… Please… he… hehhhh… help mbe…”

“Then stay still. And trust me.”

David wrinkled his nose, not looking forward to this. But… it worked on his girlfriend all the time. It always made her sneeze, a gorgeous little thing so unlike her brother, that always made them both giggle. And it honestly was paining him to see his best friend in such pain right now…

He leant down, stroking Wes’ nose from bridge to tip, then kissed it.

Instantly, Wes pushed his face away from him, turning away into his elbow. “Heh’kisshhh’oo! Heh’kishhh! Kishh! Kishh’oo! Heh… heh’kishh’oo!”

“Bless you! Is that better?”

But Wes had a finger up, his breath fluttering. “Ndot… heht-CHOO! Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh!... ndot donde yet. Heh’kishh’oo!”

They were deep and scraping at the back of his throat… David couldn’t help but wince. Though there was nothing to do but wait the fit out.

“Heht-CHOO! Heht-CHOO! Heh-kishh’oo! Heh… heh-YISHH’uh!”

“Bless you?”

Wes shook his head, hands covering his mouth and nose. “Thick there’s ode bore.”

David held out a few Kleenex, which Wes took with a hand… then…

“Heh’knxt! KNXT! Heh… heh… heh-YISHHHHH’UMPF!”

David waited a minute, handing tissue after tissue to his friend as he kept filling them, before he finally spoke. “Guess you really had to sneeze, huh?”

Wes flicked his eyes up and down, too weak (or dizzy?) to nod properly. “I’b sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You… did’t have to do that. Tha’k you.”

“That’s what friends are for,” David said with a shrug. “But, I’m not doing that again. And you need to get into bed.”

Wes sighed, giving his nose one last blow, a grimace of pain written plainly over his face. “I thi’k you’re right. Add, I owe you.”

“Damn right you do,” David said, packing up Wes’ bag. “Now, not another word from you.”

“But – “

“No.”

Wes sighed. “I just wadt to say – I kdow how I get whed I’b sigck. Add, before a fever overtakes by bi-d, I wadd to tha’k you for carigg, because it really does bead so buch to be.”

David grinned. “Like I said earlier – that’s just what friends are for.”

“Thadks, bad. I love you.”

“Love you too, man. Now, bed!”

[stephab13]

And, final one for tonight. Because I desperately miss Niff. For DogLover, who said, "I think Jeff and David should have allergies... You should write something in which one of them develops a mystery allergy and everyone else has to figure out what it is."

Of course, as usual, I've taken a bit of liberty with the prompt... I'm sorry... but I hope that this is okay in response! Plus, it's Niff. I've really missed writing them! :-)

So, here. Here's some Jeff!torture! Mwahahahahahaha

Prompt: Believe

Characters: Nick, Jeff (allergies)

Words: 1,341

“Hehhh’atchoo!”

“Bless you!”

“ZzzzISHOO! ISHOO! ISH!”

“Bless – “

“HRRR’USH’OO!”

“Bless you!” Nick grabbed the tissue box from his desk, holding it to his sniffling boyfriend.

“Ta…” Jeff collapsed back against Nick’s bed, where he’d taken refuge after throwing away The Catcher in the Rye and his highlighter, blowing his nose.

“Are you sick? You’re sneezing a lot…”

“I dunno. Maybe. My throat hurts…”

Nick hummed sympathetically, dropping his pencil down and joining him on the bed, snaking an arm around the blonde’s shoulders and stroking his soft hair.

Almost instantly Jeff’s nostrils started flaring and his breath hitching. Nick could feel the muscles of his stomach tensing rapidly.

“Bless you?”

“Heh… heh…” Jeff whimpered. “Heh… I need… neeeee… need to… to sneeeeee… heh… sneeze… but it’s stuck…”

“Look into the light,” Nick advised. “That usually helps me.”

“Heh… ATCHOO! AtchOO! AtchOO! ATISCHOO! Ugh…” Jeff coughed, holding another handful of tissues under his streaming nose.

“Bless.” Nick was a little worried now. Jeff sneezing was pretty rare. Possibly the Australian in him had just hardened his sinuses (who says evolution stopped in humans?), because he didn’t have any allergies and, other than the gluten-nightmare, he never really got sick either. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap.”

Nick snorted. “Yeah, I’d imagine so. You sound really stuffy… but what’s wrong? Other than your throat?”

“My eyes and ears kinda itch…”

Well, that sounded familiar. “I… think you might be allergic to something…”

“Nah. Can’t be.”

“Well, it could be a sinus infection, I guess…” The itching was so stereotypical of allergies though… but Jeff wasn’t allergic to anything. And Nick’s room was about as hypoallergenic as humanly possible. (Either way, he feels pretty horrible. He looks terrible. You should try and make him feel a bit better.) Nick reached across, pressing the back of his hand across Jeff’s forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever though.”

“Small… small… small merciesISHOO! ISH! ISH!”

“Bless you!”

“Besides,” Jeff said with a sniff, “what would I be allergic to? It’s not like we’re in the allergen-breeding-ground of David’s room…”

“Well, have you bought any new clothes or anything recently?” Nick’s science brain flicked into motion.

“No.”

Oh, God. That one syllable nearly broke his heart, it was so downtrodden. Like the idea of an allergy had given him some sort of hope, and it had just been stolen from you. “Baby…”

“I feel really bad, Nicky… What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” Nick pressed a kiss to his temple, before rolling over and straddling the Australian. “I’m sorry.” He leant down, eyes closed, pressing his lips softly against Jeff’s.

But then again, his whole body tensed and Jeff wrenched his face away. “HrrUSHOO! USHOO! Heh… HRRUSHOO! USH! USH! USH!”

“God! Bless you…”

Jeff’s eyes were burning red now, tears leaking out the corners and down the side of his face. He brought a hand up, rubbing at his ear. “It’s gettigg worse. It’s so itchy…” he whined.

“Don’t rub,” Nick said immediately, without thought. Something had to be causing it. But, what? “Do you want some Zyrtec?”

“… Maybe.” Jeff’s breath was shaky. “Will it help?”

“It won’t hurt if you are sick, rather than allergic.”

Jeff nodded, and Nick leant over to give him another kiss… and again, Jeff’s whole body began to spasm. “Heh… heh’ISHOO! ISH!”

Nick leapt up in an instant, jumping across the room. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“You’re allergic to me,” he said, a little confused. He hadn’t changed his soap or shampoo or gel recently…

“No, I ca-‘t be,” the blonde said, sitting up (and swaying a little) and reaching an arm out towards him. “How cand I be allergic to you? I’mb ndot allergic to andythi’g… and you are.”

“Well, I don’t know, but I’m making you worse, Jeff.”

Jeff laughed as he rose to his feet and crossed the room.

“Jeff, don’t, sweetie.”

“I’mb ndot allergic to you!”

“Wanna bet?”

But Jeff had stopped a little over halfway, his breath yet again beginning to falter. “Ugh…”

Nick sighed. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

Jeff nodded.

“Fine.” Nick crossed to meet him in two steps, hovering just out of arm’s reach.

“Heh… heh… heh…”

“Enough for you?”

Jeff shook his head.

“God, you’re incorrigible.” With a shake of his head, Nick stepped forward, slipping his arms around Jeff’s shoulders and pulling him in for a hug.

The effect was instantaneous. “Heh’ISHOO! ISHOO! ISHOO! Heh… Heh… HrrUSHOO! USHOO! USHOO! USHOO! USH! USH! Heh… heh… heh… ISHOO! ISH! ISH!” A sniff. “Bloody hell! USHOO! USHOO! USH! USH! USH!”

“Bless you,” Nick said as he stepped back, brushing off his shoulder. “You see?”

“Yeah, okay,” the blond finally gave in, walking back to the bed and sitting at the base so he could lean his head back. “You bight be right. But, seriously, what the hell?”

“I know.” Nick pulled out a packet of Zyrtec from his bedside table, throwing it to the blond.

“What have you dode recedtly? Sobethi’g bust have cha’ged…”

Nick was grabbing his water bottle from his desk when it hit him… His eyes caught sight of a small bottle which he’d forgotten to put back in his bathroom earlier. “My cologne…”

“Whad?”

He grabbed the bottle, holding it up. “This,” he said a little louder. “You’re probably reacting to this. I only got it a couple of days ago…”

“I thi’k we deed to be proper sciedtists add test your theory. Just to be sure.”

This coming from a boy on the honour roll. Nick groaned. “I hugged you and you sneezed seventeen times with barely a breath between them. What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Here.” Jeff held out his hand. Nick didn’t trust him with it… but his mouth was drooping open in such an adorable manner, and his eyes were red and streaming and he looked so vulnerable… and then, of course, he had to turn on the puppy dog eyes.

Nick sighed as he handed over the cologne. “Be careful.”

But, too late. Jeff had sprayed it into the air, nose sucking in what tiny amount he could.

Time seemed to stop. The droplets just hung in the air as if frozen, like gravity had decided to take a holiday. Nick could have sworn he saw his own mouth gaping open, his worried expression painting his face, distorted in its reflection off the curves of the liquid, thousands of them, as if glinting off the eyes of a spider.

Jeff gasped… then began waving a hand in front of his face… And then, “Heh’USHOO! USHOO! USHOO! USHOO! USHOO! USH! USH! USH! USH! USH! Heh’USHOO! USH! Heh… heh… ngTCHuh! ngTCH! ITCH! ITCH! ISH! ISH! ISHOO! ISH! ISH! Heh… heh… hrrUSHUH!”

“You done?”

Jeff nodded miserably. “Thi’k so. Why’d I do that?”

“I have no idea,” Nick said, honestly trying not to laugh. “Because you’re Australian and a daredevil operating under the idea that you’re not human?”

“Hey, just because by coudtry has a healthcare systeb that actually works…”

Nick grinned, and Jeff grinned sheepishly back.

“I’b ad idiot.”

“Yes. Yes you are.” Nick reached out, pinching Jeff’s nose before kissing his forehead. “Well, babe, I believe you’re allergic to my new cologne.”

“Of course. The ode thi’g you do-’t react to is the ode thi’g I do.” Jeff sniffed as he shook his head. “Jesus Christ. How do you pud up with this?”

Nick chuckled. “Antihistamines.” He held out the tissue box again. “I’m going to go shower, okay? Don’t do anything stupid in the time I’m gone.”

“It is be we’re talki’g about,” Jeff said, a little woozily. “But, I deed to clear out by dose. Bi’d if I joid you?”

“Of course not.” They stood up at the same time, and Nick couldn’t help but pull his poor, vulnerable baby into him, spinning him round and nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Heh’USH’UH! ISH! ISH!”

“Whoops…”

“ISHOO! ISH! ISH!”

“Bless you…”

“Oh, shut up,” Jeff said, pulling out two towels from the cupboard. “Just get that crap off you!”

[Emily]

...may I say that I've developed a crush on Wes after reading your drabbles? ; w ;

[stephab13]

For greetingsfromBoston... whose prompt, again, I've taken liberty with. I'm horrible at filling these! But still, it's fluffy... :-)

So, the prompt was, "Like Kurt or Blaine wants to keep a kitten but the other is allergic though doesn't say anything since he loves his boyfriend too much type of thing."

So, here we go! Hope you enjoy it!

Prompt: Found

Characters: Kurt, Blaine

“Come here, baby! Come on, Bella.”

Kurt frowned as he pushed open the door to his New York apartment. Last time he checked, they hadn’t adopted any animals, and Blaine wasn’t really the type of person to nickname parts of his anatomy… He must have spent the day writing. He always got a little loopy after a day of creativity…

That still didn’t explain the random smacking noises, though. Or why it sounded like he was talking to an imaginary animal…

“Honey, I’m hooooome,” he sang, dropping his keys and bag by the table in the hallway. It was so great to be back where he was wanted and appreciated… even if by an insane person.

“Oh, hey, Kurt!” Blaine appeared by his side in an instant, arms wrapping themselves around his body. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he said, glad to relax into his fiancé’s chest after a hard day of work. “Jennifer’s lost it completely and wants leather corsages for the vinyl edition. Lucy had yet another breakdown, poor girl, I keep telling her to take a few days, but of course she’s terrified of losing her job if she’s human, and Jesse, just…”

“Hey.” Blaine cupped his chin, pulling him forward for a kiss. “That’s not your problem. You’re brilliant, and don’t you forget it.”

“That’s easy for you to say, and much harder for me to believe,” Kurt replied. “But, thank you. And what about you? What roads did the mysterious Blaine traverse today?”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “I spent the day on harmonies. Got bored around lunch, so I went for a walk. Which reminds me… I’ve got a surprise for you…”

Oh, that was just what he needed after ten hours of pure adrenaline and caffeine… “Wait, wait, wait,” Kurt said. “Do we need to wait for Wes to get home to hear it? Because, I swear, if this is anything like the time you nearly burnt down the kitchen, I only want to hear it once.”

Blaine snorted. “No… Not quite. I think you’ll like her.”

“Her?”

“Bella,” Blaine said, his eyes lighting up. “I found her today. She was left abandoned in a building.”

“And again,” Kurt asked, with a small feeling of dread, “her? What or who is she?”

“A kitten!”

Of course. There were three things that could put Blaine in this mood: music, Kurt, and animals. Unfortunately, however, an animal in need seemed to override Blaine’s usual selfless thoughts. Or, well, thoughts of his boyfriend… Because every time, he seemed to forget that Kurt was horribly allergic to virtually any furred animal.

… But how to tell him? Kurt rubbed at his eyes, which were already starting to itch. These situations always lead to a fight… not because he was pissed off, but because Blaine would get angry at himself for not remembering, and Kurt for not telling him sooner…

But, then again… Wes had moved back in with them. Maybe Kurt could just wait it out until their gavel-wielding (actually, technically, stethoscope-wielding, though no one could ever let him forget his first instrument) friend got home. Let Wes do his dirty work. Plus, he’d probably jump at the chance to observe an allergy attack in action, with all his newly obtained knowledge. So it’d be a win-win situation.

Yeah. He’d do that.

“Hichiew!”

“Bless you.” Blaine moved away, grabbing Kurt’s hand instead and pulled him towards the ‘living room’. Which really was an apt description – being a New York apartment, there were two bedrooms, one bathroom, and then a kitchen/dining/lounge room all rolled into one. From either the loveseat or the armchair-in-the-shape-of-a-hand (and maybe the cat could manage to wreck the damned thing for once) you could see the television, the stove and the traffic down below. It was small, yes, but it was warm and cosy and, well, home.

“Thanks.” Kurt sniffed, already feeling an attack brewing. “So, what time are we expecting Wes back tonight?”

“No rounds – just classes, so… up to an hour?” Blaine pushed him into the seat. “You look tired. Relax – I’ve nearly finished cooking. We can sit and enjoy the quiet for a while.”

“Thank you.” Kurt switched on the news, curling up like a cat in the chair… A cat which still hadn’t decided to appear yet. Good. The less contact he had with the poor creature, the better. As long as it wasn’t on his bed… It could go make a home in Wes’. Wes loved animals too. And, as far as they knew, wasn’t allergic.

Blaine, meanwhile, was humming as he bustled through the kitchen, adding salt and pepper to some amazing-smelling sauce and then stirring a pot of cooking spaghetti. This was incredible… They’d had their problems, sure, but every day Kurt just… waited with baited breath to wake up. Because here he was, in New York, still climbing the ranks at Vogue magazine, with a boyfriend… fiancé… who was always there whenever he needed it, be that a coffee at 6 in the morning, a hug after an emotional day or food whenever he was too tired to do it himself. Of course, the fact that Blaine worked part-time as a kitchen hand had nothing to do with the magic he could create with some oregano and a slice of bread.

Yeah. He really was the luckiest person. He had a family, a roof over his head, and a virtual guarantee of his bills paid...

Kurt’s eyes were just starting to close as a weight pressed down on the couch next to him. He would have thought it Blaine with dinner, if not for the tiny bell jingling and the purring… and then the softest lump of fur settling itself on his lap.

He cracked open an eye. “Hi. You must be Bella.”

The cat meowed, turning to look at him with brilliant green eyes.

“Well, aren’t you just adorable?” Kurt purred, scratching it under its chin… Which it… she… seemed to enjoy, its eyes closing as a tiny jet engine kickstarted.

It was such a pity he was allergic to them. Pavarotti had been… amazing. The first pet he’d ever been able to keep longer than a couple of weeks. But he’d always wanted a cat. They were so… proud, yet still loving. Very self-reliant and low maintenance and, really, everything you could want from a pet.

“Hi… hichiew! Hichiew! HiCHIEW!”

“Bless you!” Blaine had reappeared, setting down two plates on the coffee table. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Kurt said with a sniff. He couldn’t tell him… “A little tired, maybe…”

“Maybe you’re getting a cold?”

Kurt shrugged. If that was the conclusion Blaine wanted to draw, he wouldn’t complain.

“We can ask Wes when he gets home. He’s practically a doctor now anyway.”

“How much longer does he have left again?”

“A couple of years. He’s doing mostly placements from now though, I think.” Blaine sighed as he wriggled up behind Kurt, body squeezing himself into any space to cover any spare inch of Kurt’s skin left exposed. “But, if you’re up to it, we may as well eat.”

“That honestly sounds wonderful.” Kurt bent up, capturing Blaine’s lips in a kiss, enveloping himself in him – the honey and mocha of his lips mingling with the slightly smoky musk of his cologne, and the very hint of shiraz.

Though, of course, they were forced to break apart when a tiny, fluffy arm reached out to bat Kurt’s cheek.

Blaine burst into laughter. “Bella! Leave Papa alone!”

“Hi… hi… hi… HICHIEW!” Kurt sniffed again.

“Bless you!” Blaine held out a blue handkerchief, which Kurt took, nuzzling his nose into the soft fabric. “Early bed tonight.”

Kurt just nodded, picking up his plate and cutlery. “I’mb sorry.”

“For what? For sneezing?”

Kurt murmured an acknowledgement.

“Darling, you live with me. I’m pretty sure one of my fits is more than enough to cover an entire year of colds from you!”

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t look as cute.”

Blaine snorted. “I still don’t understand how you could possibly think me shooting snot halfway across the room as I lose control could be cute…”

Kurt stiffened.

“But, hey, your little sneezes are pretty cute too. They’re so… “

Kurt screwed up his nose, feeling his breath hitch, like the mere talk of sneezes was sending more histamine to his sinuses.

“… adorable,” Blaine continued, a little oblivious. “The way your breath kinda stops and you just try so hard to not let anything out…”

“Heh… heh… hi…”

“And then – “

“HiCHIEW! Hichiew! Hichiew! Hiii’ESHU!”

“Then that happens,” Blaine grinned, snatching his handkerchief from Bella’s claws (where she was currently trying to nest) and wiping at Kurt’s streaming nose.

“It’s disgustigg,” Kurt said with a face… or, well, half a face, seeing how the rest of his concentration was now on not sneezing out the freaking dander on the handkerchief.

“It’s adorable. I think you’re adorable.”

The elephant. He never forgot. Though, then again, it wasn’t like Kurt had forgotten that first time behind the curtain either… “You are such a… such a… suchadorkhii’ESHU! Hichiew!”

“Bless you, Kurt!!!”

The pair looked up as a third set of keys jangled into the bowl in the hallway, signifying only one thing – Wes was home.

Bella jumped off her perch on the couch as footsteps came closer, the bell jingling as she ran off to greet the new intruder.

“Okay, I know I had a really long day, and rememorising the entire Kreb’s cycle in five minutes is enough to drive anyone batty but… we didn’t have a cat when I left this morning, did we?”

Blaine grinned. “This is Bella, Wes. I found her in an empty building.”

As Wes bent down to scratch the darling, Kurt decided he could risk another sniff and a swipe at his itching eyes… but, even as he did so, he could feel Wes’ dark eyes boring into him. Because, of course, the Asian wasn’t too enraptured by an endangered animal to forget about his friend’s… er… furry little problem.

“Dinner’s on the counter – it should still be warm.”

Wes shrugged off his jacket, grinning. “It smells amazing.”

“So how was your day?”

Wes groaned, and promptly began explaining exactly how his lecturers were evil and exactly what he was planning to do with their spleens.

Kurt, however, had other problems. Bella had decided to resume her perch on the back of the couch. Which Kurt could deal with… She really only caused a little eye watering and nose running at that distance. But, almost as if she knew the effect that she was having and wanted to… maybe piss Kurt off… she was batting her tail gently, wanting attention… He could see fur flying from the couch, hovering in the air, then forming a dart and poking itself right into his right nostril.

… Okay, a slight exaggeration there, but having a tail brushed against your nose when you feel some sort of moral obligation to not sneeze and react to it was… not what he needed.

“No, Bella. No, darling,” he whispered, one hand rubbing his nose while the other scratched between her ears.

She turned to face him, with such an innocent expression on her face. What, Kurt? What am I doing wrong? I’m just a cat.

“You’ll make me sneeze,” he whispered back. “It’s not your fault… but it has to be our little secret…”

Her ears pricked back… and she stood up, rubbing herself up against Kurt’s cheek.

“God, you are just… just…”

But that was all that he could get out before his left sinus decided to burst out his nose.

“Crap! Hichiew! Hichiew! Hi… hi… hichiew!Chiew!HiCHIEW!”

“Kurt.”

There was a hand on his back… but he wasn’t finished yet. “Hi’itsch! Hi’itsch! Hi… heh… heh… hichiew! Hi’itsch! Hi… hi… hii’ESHU!”

“Bless you…”

The blue handkerchief reappeared by his face, but through his bleary eyes, he saw Wes snatch it away and instead hold out a clean, white one. “Here. It’s dry.”

“Thanks, Wes.” At least now he wouldn’t have to clean off his face in more allergen…

Blaine hugged him. “Guess it’s a sneezy cold, huh?”

… The oblivious idiot. Kurt and Wes both locked eyes, the flicker of farce bouncing between them.

“Blaine…” Wes shook his head. “Look at him.”

“What?”

Wes was pulling out a packet of Benadryl from his bag… “His eyes. Do they look… puffy to you?”

Blaine pulled Kurt’s face around… and swore.

“Yeah. You’re an idiot. Beat yourself up later… I’ve still got a few gavels in my cupboard.” Wes handed Kurt a couple of pills. “Swollen eyes, sneezing, he’s even got a rash coming up over his cheek… Yep, that’s histamine. Unless the cat gave you pox.”

“Kurt…”

But Kurt just hugged him. “Ndot your fault. As lo’g as she does’t rub herself againdst mby face, she’s finde…”

“You have a freaking rash, Kurt.”

“Which will go down after the antihistamines kick in,” Wes was quick to reassure them.

Kurt, of course, jumped on that hope. “So I’ll just do what you do – take some antihistamines every day. Then we can keep her.”

“Kurt…”

Blaine and Wes both spoke at once.

“We can get another pet,” Blaine said, while Wes grinned. “We can trial her over the weekend… but only if she gets to sleep in my room!”

“I vote for a trial period,” Kurt said. “I’ve always wanted a cat…”

“You have a rash…”

“Which will go away with meds. Wes said. Don’t you trust him?”

Blaine glared at their friend… which caused the other two to burst into laughter.

“Oh, smbile, hondey, or else the wind’ll change,” Kurt teased him.

Wes had a similar idea. “You’ll hurt yourself like that. I’ve always wanted to see an aneurism in reality…”

“Shut up!”

They all burst into laughter.

Then Bella mewed again.

“Combe ond. We’ll try for the weeke’d… add if I die, we’ll find her a ndew home.”

Blaine sighed. “You’d really do that for me?

”

“And for her, too,” Kurt reassured him.

“I… I love you, you know,” Blaine said.

“Love you too.” Kurt leant up, rubbing noses with Blaine.

Wes chuckled. “And I love food!”

They broke apart, staring at him… but then Kurt found his nose scrunching up yet again.

“HiCHIEW!”

Bella jumped away, skittering to Wes’ feet.

“Well, at least she learns pretty quickly,” he commented as he scooped her up into his arms. “Go shower, Kurt, it’ll clear out your sinuses. And I’ll make sure every single item in our house is covered by dander by the time you’re back!”

“Screw… screw… hi’itsch! Screw you!”

Blaine turned to Wes as his fiancé walked into their bedroom. “I’d watch it, Wes. Christmas is coming up… and we all know how you are with pine…”

[stephab13]

Oh, and, Emily - I'm not sure if that was intended as a compliment, but I'll take it as one

Ah, Wes. Our amazing, loveable, idiot. I... may or may not have a crush on him too. Though, I think it's a little sadder when you've a crush on your own character... Or, virtually your own character. Le sigh.

... SO instead I'll just turn everything onto Telly Leung. Who actually released an album. And covered Firework. Like, who does that?!

And again, I'm running off to my batcave of anatomy and physiology books and fangirl

ANd glitter. There's ALWAYS glitter.

[Emily]

Blaine snorted. “I still don’t understand how you could possibly think me shooting snot halfway across the room as I lose control could be cute…”

^ Okay I snorted when I read that. LOOOOL

Because, of course, the Asian wasn’t too enraptured by an endangered animal to forget about his friend’s… er… furry little problem.

Pardon? If my eyes are not deceiving me I do believe I see a Harry Potter reference there.

Andandand Wes is totally adorable 8'D And KurtxBlaine. D'aaaw they're just adorable little sneezy boys in my head. I never wanna see their real faces so I can preserve them in my imagination. ; ___ ; OH THE HORROR WHEN EDWARD CULLEN WAS NOT THE HANDSOME MAN IN MY IMAGINATION (really, it's impossible to unsee Robert Pattinson).

(I'd do the same if I were Kurt heheh kitties > allergies

We've clearly got our priorities straight.)

[stephab13]

HOMG. 15,000 views. Are you guys kidding me? This is inSANE.

Thank you. I'm... oddly flattered. :-)

Emily - Yep, TOTALLY a Potter reference - I was wondering who'd spot that And I definitely get what you mean by Rob... because he really wasn't how I pictured Edward... though I can't remember how I did picture him to begin with. Just... different

I'm interested, though, as to how you picture my boys? Because I don't think I've really given them many physical descriptions...

Oh, and, kittens. Yeah... I'm like Kurt - I'm definitely allergic to cats, dogs, horses, rabbits... And we happen to have a golden retriever and a Birman. Thankfully my cat, despite how she just screams ALLERGEN, is actually hypoallergenic - I've only ever reacted to her when she's broken my skin after I've been clipping her claws. The dog, on the other hand...

But, animals are totally worth it!!!

[stephab13]

And, I'm dedicating this next one to Emily, who, I've heard, can appreciate sick and feverish boys being sent out into the rain... And should be my last little (little????) update for awhile. But, we'll get there. Exams in a week. Nearly done. *exhales*

Prompt: Shelf (which… you’ll find… very minutely… but, honestly, how was I meant to write a story about a shelf?!)

Characters: Wes (the idiot…), David, Trent, Thad

It started, for once, not with a sneeze.

It didn’t even start in a Warbler rehearsal. It didn’t start in class. It didn’t start with Wes hearing someone crying, or with him playing the role of the hero yet again.

In fact, Wes wasn’t entirely sure if he could pinpoint any sort of beginning to it all. So instead, he found himself in trackies and a hoodie, his nose running and his eyes prickling with a small increase in body temperature, rummaging frantically through his room for any sort of antipyretic drug.

… It was all very strange. Wes’ room was usually in perfect order, and, with his eyes closed, he could tell you where everything in it was, from his straw fedora to his English essay completed on the 5^th of February in 2009. Adding to the peculiarity was the fact that, for once in his life, Wes was actually taking time out from his life to look after himself.

“Damn it!”

It was only a little fever. Only a couple of degrees. It was in that honeymoon period, where it could go either way – where your eyes felt like they could shoot fireworks and your skin crawled with thousands of bugs and your entire body felt that little bit stifled and oppressed, like when travelling in a car in the middle of summer. He hadn’t hit the cold stage yet. He wasn’t seeing stars. He could still think with some vague sense of clarity.

… Though perhaps not as well as he might have hoped. He was, after all, in the process of checking his doona cover for Advil.

“Heh… Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh! Heh’kishh’oo!” He paused briefly, running a sleeve under his nose. “Ugh. Crap!” He sat down. This… was not good. He was way past the admitting-to-himself-that-he’s-sick stage. If Wes knew anything, it was fevers. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed to be sick and not have it shooting up to 104. So, realising that he had one – even if a nice, gentle one, only a little over 100 – was not good. What made it even worse was the fact that he couldn’t find any sort of drugs to help bring that down.

Wes was like a walking pharmacy. Sprained your wrist? Sit down and let Mama Wes bandage you up. Blaine’s blood sugar is low? Here, go give him these jellybeans from his blazer pocket. Got a cold? Wes has got a marvellous selection of tissues and handkerchiefs for you to choose from.

So why the hell couldn’t he find any acetaminophen?

And what the hell could he do about it? There were drugs in the choir room… but he couldn’t go there. He couldn’t let his boys know something was going on – while he could admit to himself that he was sick, telling others was a whole other kettle of corn. And by that same logic, he couldn’t go ask Jeff, despite the fact he knew the blonde had half a packet of Tylenol in his bedside table (thank you, oh gods who control the rolling of ankles). And the nurse? He almost laughed at that idea. A trip to the nurse, in his case, always meant a trip to the nurse, complete with a 2 night stay to monitor him. Her efforts were better off on other people.

But what could he do?

“Heh… Heh-kishh-kishh’oo! Heh-ehhh-HEH! Heh’kishh’oo!”

Wes shivered, clutching his arms closer to his body and resting his head on his knees. Damn it. He was starting to spike. He could almost feel it rising, feel the future rigors about to take hold.

Well, screw that.

A clap of thunder rang out overhead and his head throbbed with the beating of God’s bowling balls. And then it started. As a fever-tear of his own spilled down his cheek, the sky opened and rain began to trickle down onto his window, leaving its faint imprint as a line of dust.

Rain. Rain. Rain.

(Rain, rain, go away.)

Who was the old man anyway? And why was he snoring? Honestly, you’d think nursery rhymes hadn’t heard of sleep apnoea machines.

The heavens applauded again, the following drone exactly like a didgeridoo… or the bass part to Feeling Good.

Wes looked out the window and laughed hysterically.

****************************************

“David? Have you seen Wes?”

The African-American glanced up from his calculus assignment into the warm – yet rather worried looking – eyes of Trent. “Nah, sorry. Can I help?”

Trent shifted to the other foot, arms crossed – though David couldn’t help but notice his fingers, pressing with increasing force into his arm. “Do you know where he is?”

A clap of thunder rang out as the skies flashed with lightning, shaking the foundations of the building – and causing at least half the boys in the common room to jump. Trent squealed.

“I… sorry… I don’t like…”

David put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, me neither. What’s up?”

“I was hoping to… to find Wes…”

The poor kid was shaking like California. Apparently he really didn’t like storms… “Well, I… Are you alright?”

Trent had nearly screamed again at a second round of lightning, clapping his hands over his mouth. “Wes,” he whispered. “Please.”

David sighed. He knew a lost cause when he saw one… Hell, Trent trusted Wes, and David wasn’t going to question that. While he’d love to be able to help him… Wes would do it better. “The last I saw, he was headed up to his room. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s sleeping, to tell the truth – he had that whole pale, sniffling, not talking thing going on. But he should be there.”

“He’s not.”

David’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“He’s not there,” Trent repeated. “It was the first place I looked. He’s not in the choir room or the piano room either…”

“Have you checked with any – “

“None of the Warblers have seen him.”

“Damn.” A surge of adrenaline froze through his body. Perhaps it was an early reaction, but Wes had the nasty habit of doing particularly dumb things – and especially when he was sick. And now, with the storm… David couldn’t shake the horrible sense of dread pressing around him. He could already see him, lying on top of the roof, fighting off falling leaves with a gavel, being crushed by a tree…

“What are we gonna do?”

David whipped out his phone, sending a hurried text to Nick (who was currently caught up in the nurse’s office with a wicked case of tonsillitis) to ask if he’d seen the senior. “Trent?” he said while doing so. “Can you go find Thad? Tell him we’ve got a nine-oh-seven. He’ll know what I mean.”

“Wes’ gavel was stolen by a small child?” A voice came from over his shoulder… and Thad waved. “Yeah, I’ve been here literally the entire time you have – just over the other side. What’s up?”

“A nine-oh-seven, obviously.”

Thad sighed. “Dude, I read that manual, like, once. And Trent is right here so I think you can just… be a bit more explicit?”

David bit his lip. “Uh… Wes is MIA.”

“Not in his room?”

“No.”

“Choir room? Piano room? Nurse’s office?”

“No, no, and…” David’s phone buzzed. “No. Nick… sorry, Jeff, says to bugger off and leave them be. How lovely.”

“Well, this is great,” Thad said, frowning. “Where was the last time you saw him?”

“He’s not a baby doll, Thad, no matter how short he may be. He will have moved in that time.”

Thad sighed. “Your best friend – our lead council member – is missing, David.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. Trust Wes… “Last I saw, he was going upstairs. I think he muttered something about bed – unless he was talking about med interviews, which he may have been, because he sounded all stuffed up all day… but I don’t know.”

“Is he sick?” Trent asked.

“Uh…” David thought. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What does he usually do?”

“Turns into a cat, usually, and hides from us all…”

Trent bit his lip. They could both see the cogs turning in there… Trent, no matter what labels you put on him, was something special. Perhaps it was simply the time he spent around Wes, but there were so many similarities between the two. And, hell, maybe it was just his creative mind. But Trent was remarkable at two things – problem-solving, and understanding people.

Come on, Trent, David whispered to himself. Pull through for us.

“So, do you think he could be in a hiding place?”

“No.” Thad spoke this time. “He’s too selfless. He goes to his room, and shuts the door, and occasionally he’ll drown himself in meds but most the time we’ll find him collapsed in a bathtub.”

… Well, there was a reason Thad was on the council, after all.

“So, he’s sick… He won’t want to be found…” Trent was pacing up and down, wringing his hands. “Why collapsed in a bathtub?”

“Fever.” David’s mouth went dry as it started to sink in. “He gets really high fevers, so he’ll try to run himself a bath and some self-protective mechanism kicks in and stops him putting water in for when he does… you know… pass out…”

Trent drew in a deep breath… and then something clicked. “The rain.”

“What?”

“It’s raining.”

“And your point is…”

“It’s bloody raining, David. You can’t actually drown in the rain unless it floods.”

The realisation hit him and his mouth dropped open. He grabbed his blazer, catching an umbrella that someone through from a few tables over. Trent and Thad were mirroring his movements.

“He’s outside…”

“Let’s go.”

“Quick.”

All three spoke at once, before they broke into a run and sprinted out into the rain.

****************************************

For once, David found himself grateful that his friend was so sneezy. Usually he just found Wes’ allergies hilarious… and then annoying and distracting… but today, amidst the roar of thunder and the splash of rain hitting any object in its path with the sound of a possessed metronome, the blanket of water and near pitch blackness making it almost impossible to see anything… David’s perfect pitch was the only sense he had any sort of hope in.

They’d split up the instant they’d hit the main entrance. Thad had turned east, Trent south, and David was left to circle the north and east blocks. Luckily he knew them like the Warbler handbook, because, as he stumbled over a fallen log, he had no chance of seeing anything.

He turned to the side, ears straining. He could hear Thad and Trent calling out in the distance. He could hear the wind whipping around his head, whistling around an A. He could hear trees straining at their roots. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

He could feel the gravel crunching under foot as he stepped off the driveway and onto the path winding through the grounds. Feel the rain whipping on his face, feel his teeth biting into his lip as he struggled to not panic. Feel movement, everywhere.

“Heh’kishh.”

Hear the whisper of a sneeze?

“Wes? Is that you?”

“Heh’kishh.”

He squinted into the distance, looking for any sort of movement. He couldn’t tell if it was just his own pure wishing that made him turn the white noise into a sneeze. He’d give anything for it to be Wes. To find him and bring him inside. Kicking and screaming, if need be.

“Heh-kishh-kishh-kishh’OO!”

There it was. That augmented fifth. Only Wes could manage to do that, like even in his sneezes he had to prove how much control he had vocally. Freaking perfect pitch and what not.

“Heh’kishh’OO! Heh’kishh’oo!”

And back to the expected octave jump as he began losing control… David didn’t have much time…

“Heh… heh… heh’kishh!”

“Wes! Where are you?”

“D… D… heh’kishh! … David?”

“Wes, it’s too… you need to tell me where you are. Can you stand? Wave to me?”

He took a step forward, blindly. Turning his head to the side, he stepped forward again and closed his eyes, letting his hearing take over… At a later point, he might laugh at searching for his best friend with echolocation, but for now he was too set on finding Wes before he passed out.

“Keep making noise, Wes. I’m coming for you.”

“HEH-KISHH! Heh’kishh’oo!”

Louder to the right. He took a few paces further in. “You still with me?”

“David?” Wes’ voice sounded hoarse, congested, like the smallest movement would rip it to shreds. And so tiny and scared and vulnerable… so unlike the senior normally. “Where are you?”

“Not far away,” he prayed, opening his eyes. “Wave for me?”

There. Only a few yards away, on the footpath, under some sort of shade, was a tiny, shaking, slightly blacker lump… with some blacker object sticking out the side and jolting up and down. That had to be him.

“Can you see me, Wes?”

“Yes. Heh… heh’kishh! Heh’kishh’oo!”

And, as he sneezed, David reached him, kneeling down without thought behind his friend and sheltering his body with his own. His… very slippery and wet body…

He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Thank God the idiot had thought to wear track pants, because David wasn’t sure he could ever forgive him if they marched him back inside in just his boxers.

“Wes…”

“You cabe for be. Heh’kishh’oo! Heh’kishh’oo! HEH’KISHH’OO!”

“Of course I did, you idiot. Why did you do that, Wes?” David peeled off his jumper and blazer, drying the teen as well as he could with his own shirt before forcing his uniform over the smaller boy’s head. “You had us scared to death!”

“I’b so hot… add cold…”

David shook his head. “Yeah, my Mom told me. Can you stand?”

“Heh’kishh. Heh… Heh’kishh.”

And his sneezes had reverted to that scary, barely audible state… which they only turned into either during an asthma attack or minutes away from collapsing. Coupling that with the shudders wracking Wes’ entire body, the heat roiling off him to the point where David could have sworn it a summer storm… and there was his answer. There was no freaking way that Wes’ feet were touching the ground, let alone supporting any weight.

“David? I do't feel well…”

Shit. Things were really bad if he was admitting that. “I know, Wes. Are you gonna hurl?”

“Do…”

Well, at least there was that. “We’re going inside, okay?”

“I could’t fide ady bedicide,” Wes tried to explain. “I looked everywhere.”

David shook his head, scooping up his seriously-light friend in his arms. “Don’t talk.”

“I looked od the shelf, but the gia’t talkigg badada said he stole it. Why did he do that? I deed that bedicide.”

David broke into a jog, not wanting to jolt his friend too much but knowing he had to get inside as soon as possible. The ‘talking banana’ meant that Wes had been delirious before venturing outside…

“Heh’kishh. Heh… Heht-choo.”

“Stay with me, Wes. Don’t sleep yet.”

“But you’ll look after be. Heh’kishh.”

“Yeah, I will,” David reassured him. “But the rain sent your fever soooo high. I’m… I’m your friend, but I’m not a doctor and I’m not some voodoo healer either.”

And, finally, the front entrance to the school loomed over him, crackling and leering as lightning continued to flash overhead.

“TRENT! THAD! I HAVE HIM!” He screamed over his shoulder as he kicked open the doors. “Hang in there, Wes. We’re nearly at the nurse.”

“I’b so tired. Add… add… icky… add… add I have to sdeeze,” he whispered, almost apologetically.

Turn the hall and down the next corridor. Ignore the boys in various study halls and classrooms staring. “You can sneeze. It’s okay. My shirt’s going into the wash tonight. And I’m pretty sure I already have your germs, after spending all day with you.”

“Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo.”

“That’s right. Let them out,” he tried to sooth him. One flight of stairs and they’d be at Ms Wearne’s office.

“Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh’kishh’oo. Heh… heh…”

David’s stomach jolted along with Wes’. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a sneezing fit before… but these were different. So… so weak and rhythmical and… stealing whatever energy he had left.

“HEH’kishh’oo. HEH’kishh’oo. HEH’KISHH’oo. HEH’KISHH. HEH’KISHH. HEHHH’KISHH.”

Wes had started trembling again as his sneezes increased in both volume and pitch. “Keep breathing…”

“HEH’KISHH’HEH’KISHH’HEH’KISHH’HEH’KISHH’HEH’KISHH!”

David kicked open the door.

“Heh… Heh… HEH… Heh…”

Wes’ grip was loosening on his shirt, his head falling back as he finally started to lose consciousness.

“Heh… heh… choo… choo… choo…”

“Please, Ms Wearne,” he turned to the nurse, eyes huge, as he lay Wes down on the first empty bed he could see and squeezed his hand. “Call an ambulance and I’ll explain.”

“Da… heh’kishh…vid…”

And with that, Wes fainted.

[Emily]

I've reread this like three times after I read it this morning and have finally gathered myself together enough to write a reply. (OUSAOIDUIOFDUAIDSFAIPODSGAAAAAH WES IN THE RAIN HE FAINTED OHMAHGAAAAAAH )

Btw you deserve every one of those views! :'D plus, the longer you're obsessed with the Warblers, the higher that view count goes (you can attribute about fifty of those to me for now )

Not an HP nerd for nothing! LOL In my head, they're actually all kind of like...very realistic looking anime characters? Or they become based off of real people I find attractive within their respective ethnicities...Actually a lot of the time, I picture the sound more and their personalities and then that goes and yeah Idon'tknowwhatI'msaying.

[tenderwarrior]

Thank you so much for the Klaine kitty fluff! It was so adorbs. (: I can't wait for more!!

[Zane]

Oh my Gosh!!! Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good!!! *Goes back to re-read it like a trillion times* I can't believe you updated!! And 2 more Wes fics!!!! You killed me!!! I......I ughhhhhhhh...... I honestly don't know what to say! *EXPLODES FROM Wes FAN GIRL OVERLOAD*

[stephab13]

Emily: The Warblers are just wonderful... Hahaha but I thought you might appreciate that last one! What you say about picturing characters is really interesting... I can definitely identify with the 'seeing their personality' thing. I want to... see into your brain though! Because all I see when I write (apart from their personalities, I guess) is, well, the actors... It'd be really interesting to imagine hair colour and the such. Like, picturing Trent as a blonde, which is a possibility but just seems hiLARious Oh, and, Harry. Yeah... I think I've read the fourth book at least 50 times. The binding fell apart... BUT, best part is, my sister (who's 10) is TOTALLY into Potter. So, I get to have Potter days with her!!! BEST THING EVAH!

greetingsfromboston: Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it!

Zane: Hehehehehe of course I wrote more Wes ones!!! Hopefully I'll get round to updating a little more frequently... though I do now have two drabble threads - and the Warblers do feature in the other... But there's also Supernatural and White Collar and Community and whatever else takes my fancy in the future... but yes.

Okay, so this one is dedicated to whoever it was that hit me up on FFnet - and please come say hi! They wanted to see Hunter, the new Warbler... who is played by Nolan Gerard Funk and, HOMG, did someone say European that can perform gymnastics, sing, dance and act, all while speaking FRENCH AND GERMAN? Oh, and he's also some form of cadet.

... Yep. Well, Hunter is a cadet anyhow.

So, you may not know this, but my first aid company does drill and parade and the such. We never actually entered any competitions, but I've always been placed in front rank, often right marker, purely because HOLY COW DRILL IS AMAZING. Like... I had no idea how much I missed it, until I started writing this... and then found myself marching behind my client at work today...

But, sneezing while on drill? I've done it - also sneezed while driving - and both have been... well, I guess irrational fear might cover it. So, taking my love of drill (and NO I AM NOT currently picturing him TEACHING THE WARBLERS how to SALUTE and MARCH and oaisdh aosij odfj soifh oeiuh sdoi hdoi j YES BACK ON TRACK) and my... fear... I decided I'd use both to torture Hunter a little.

... Okay, maybe a lot.

And, turned out WAY more fetishy than I was planning, but... well, he just forgot to take his meds this morning, and it's spring, and he's outdoors on the grass...

Yep. Okay. Moving on.

Oh, and, Americans - especially anyone to do with the military - you'll probably hate me for this. Because I know, I've taken this all from my own training. Meaning that the same basic principle is the same, but it is not going to be right. Like... I think you guys raise a left arm instead of a right when you dress? And the commands will be different. It's... well, it's from my company, which I'm not actually allowed to align myself with on teh intertubez. BUT, yes. Don't hate me too much.

HOMG. I've talked more than the actual fic.

HERE! Go! Read! ...

Prompt: Open

Characters: Hunter (omg) and… his old school, I suppose. I can’t see Dalton having a proper cadet division… Yet…

“Parade! Open order… MARCH!”

The ranks snapped to attention, before the front rank took three paces forward and halted in line with the right marker. All in perfect sync. He could feel himself moving, feel every beat coursing through him, all actions sharp, yet the entire thing so fluid, like the parade was one organism.

This was how drill should be run.

“Number… OFF!”

The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing… It was perfect outdoors. The hat provided just the right amount of shade so as to not impair vision, but to still allow him to bask in its warmth.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

“Four!”

That was his number. He could relax, until right dress was called.

It was at this point that Hunter felt it start. His allergies… Nothing that he couldn’t ignore… at least not at this stage… but it was still a distraction… But, being outside… the pollen brushing up off the ground in the breeze…

He pushed the thought out of his head. His eyes never left the front. He would just have to hold off on sneezing, not let out this allergy attack, until they had been dismissed. Because… falling out… well, that just wasn’t an option.

“Parade! Right… DRESS!”

His right arm snapped up to the badge of his neighbour, eyes and face turning straight up to the where the right corner of the room would be located with almost whiplash-inducing precision. But, he couldn’t help the wrinkling of his nose… His sinuses were throbbing…

Focus on the tree. On the sergeant about to address your rank. Not on your nose. Not on the allergen grains shooting like a targeted missile into your body. You do not have to sneeze. You do not have to fall out of rank. You are stronger than this.

“Four… BACKWARDS.”

He shuffled back, purposefully – after all, what was the point of drill if you weren’t going to do it properly? His nose was killing him… Dammit, he didn’t need to sneeze. No matter how much it itched. No matter the ferocity of the puffs of pollen attacking him from the inside.

Hunter’s mouth dropped open a tiny bit… because even just the tiny amount of air passing through when he breathed was enough to irritate his nasal passages.

“Front rank, steady!”

“hhhh… heh-heh…”

His breath was hitching. He tried to keep it silent… At least, in this position… Actually, any time at all during parade… nobody could look at him. Apart from the officer directly in front of him, taking drill. Eyes straight ahead and all that jazz. He could only hope that it would remain quiet…

“Second rank, steady!”

It was coming. He could feel it. There was the tightening right at the pit of his stomach… and his chest had turned into a bell jar – despite how much pressure was around it, it refused to take any more air in – and he still clung to the idea of not being able to release any.

Thank God he couldn’t look directly into the sun. Because, of course, he happened to be one of the 25% of the world that was photic. Sure came in handy when his sneezes got stuck… but made situations such as these even more difficult.

“Third rank, steady!”

“Hhh… huhhh…”

You okay?, his officer mouthed to him.

He blinked. Crap! He hadn’t even realised that he’d stopped looking over to the ‘corner’. Maybe he should just fall out… He’d already broken order… Obviously, drill didn’t mean as much to other people as to himself…

“Parade, steady!”

No. He could make it until given better orders. It looked less obvious falling from ‘at ease’ than from right dress, with his arms up…

“Hehh… ha… hhh…”

“Eyes… FRONT!”

All thoughts on the blood and warmth rushing to his nose, Hunter’s head snapped back forward and his left arm dropped to his side. Then, in one smooth motion, his left leg found itself placed just behind his right foot, his hand reaching up to cover his mouth.

“Heh’tsh! Tshh! Hhhhh.. Ek’shh! TSHH’uhhhh!”

He fell back in, coming back to attention… where apparently the ranking officers had been waiting for him.

“Parade… stand at… EASE!”

He blushed as his foot moved out to shoulder-width from his right, his hands clasping behind his back.

“Stand… EASY!”

He moved his arms and clasped them in his front… but not for long. Almost as soon as he’d come back to attention the first time, he’d felt that tickle relight itself. And now it was starting to build yet again. Like whatever the hell was out here had clumped together in his nose, and was rubbing itself all over, up and down, coating the lining, burning it…

Crap. He couldn’t hold this back. He swung back into attention, not able to pay attention to the words of his commanding officer, before again falling out.

“Hick…SHHH! Hihhhh… Tshhh-tshhh-TSHHH’hhh. Heh… hehESHOO!”

Fall back in, back to attention, and back standing easy. Done. Now, focus. You’ve already made enough of a distraction. You’ve already disrupted the unity of the parade. Even if you did so perfectly… it’s still been broken. Don’t think about your nose. Don’t think about the pollen, or the dust, or the sun streaming down on your face…

Dammit, he was going to make himself sneeze purely psychosomatically.

“Parade is yours.”

Hunter somehow managed to break his attention back to the front as the regional officer stepped forward. Apparently she was here to evaluate his division and to hand out some awards… not that he could really bring himself to care about it. He did his job, and he did his job well – leading his choir to victory had been no easy feat – but now, what with the money… The disgrace… Well, he could keep his position, his rank, his honour… but now he was off to Westerville.

With a clogged nose, no doubt. Which he really couldn’t understand… It was spring, sure… but… He had remembered to take his pills that morning… hadn’t he?

”Hhhh… hihhhh…”

He scrunched up his nose, a tiny crease working its way between his eyebrows, trying to shift the blood around, away from the tip. Even a mechanical sort of scratching would work… He didn’t trust himself to sniff, no matter how badly he needed to. Sure, there was stuff just leaking down the back of his throat, and he knew it’d be horrendous for his voice… but he couldn’t make that much noise. And he couldn’t risk introducing any more allergen than there already was in the reservoir there.

“Hihhhehhhh…”

God, was his breathing always this loud?

He sniffed. He couldn’t help it any more.

Big mistake. He frantically went through the motions of falling out before cupping both hands this time over his mouth and nose.

“Hih’TSHH’uh! Hek’ESH’oo! Heh… heh… heh’tshhh’tshh’TCHOO! HehzzISHOO!”

They were only getting bigger now, too…

“Bless you, corporal.”

Back to attention. “Thadk you, mba’amb.” Back to standing at ease.

“Do you need to fall out entirely?”

He sniffed again. “Ndo, mba’amb. I believe I cand last through parade.”

She smiled. “Well, if you’re sure, then…”

And so it continued. There were a few tiny announcements – nothing significant or even really of relevance to him any more. He managed to stifle a few more sneezes successfully – nearly soundlessly. But then… something changed. Perhaps it was the intensity of the burning. Perhaps it was that it was now running up and down the length of his nose as if being chased by a man with a sawn-off shotgun. Or maybe it was just that he’d managed, with varying degrees of success, to hold off actually letting rip a sneezing attack for nearly ten minutes.

He couldn’t pinpoint when he knew it finally began. The rhythmical sneezes. Probably around when she moved from congratulating the division on their competition results, to awarding badges. But it was almost like something had exploded in his sinuses, spraying allergens everywhere, spurting into his bloodstream… and he was gone. It was there and it wasn’t letting up.

He, once again, fell out.

“Heh’ngk’TCH! Tshh’uhhhh! TSCHOO!”

Fell back in.

“Knowledge of the Order, Fire Safety and Care of An Ill…”

Fall out. “K’ESHHHhh… eshh’oo! ESH’OO! Eh… heh… TCHOO!”

“… Bless you. Care of An Ill Person, and, finally, Childcare…”

He didn’t bother falling back in this time. His breath remained hitching. “Hhhh… heh… hihehhh…”

“Awarded to…”

“iiiESH! Tshhh-tshh’uh!”

“Bless you. To Hunter Clarington. Hunter?”

He managed to glance away from his hand and into the warm eyes of the regional officer. “Ye-ESH’oo! Eh-TISCH’uh! … Yes, mba’amb?”

“Bless you. Due to your… circumstances… come see me once drill has ended and we’ll – “

“HeeyESH’uh!”

“Bless you. We’ll give you your certificates inside. But I know – “

“ehhh-hehh-hhhhh…”

“I’m not the only one wanting to put you out of your mis…”

“hih’TCH’oo!”

“…ery. Bless you.”

“ISH’UH!... Heh-ISH’oo! Hehhh… eh… KTSCH’UH! ISH! ISH-IEU! Eh… IESHU-IESHU!”

“Bless you!”

Cheeks burning a brilliant red, Hunter finally pulled out a handkerchief. The fact that the regional officer had not only acknowledged what was going on, but blessed him and altered drill accordingly… Well, he couldn’t sink any lower. Perhaps if he could just blow his nose, the attack would end. Stifling had made it worse, and actually letting them out didn’t make a difference. Maybe something would.

She smiled at him, only a trace of sympathy in her eyes. “We’ll wait for you to fall in.”

“Thank you, mba’amb.” He closed his eyes, burying his nose in the soft clean cloth and giving a honking blow… He could feel himself swaying a little with the increase in pressure to his head, and his eyes began to cloud over… but just as soon as he’d entered the vice did it release him… taking with it the reaction. He could see clearly, he could think, and, amazingly, no longer did he have to sneeze.

So, after running a hand over his head to smooth his rather-dishevelled hair (because apparently sneezing your brains out rendered even the gel of gymnasts useless) and rubbing allergic tears from his flushed cheeks, he brought himself back to attention, then straight back at ease.

“Parade…”

He looked straight at his leaders, his grey eyes matching up with the green directly in front. She… cared for him… Those eyes, that warmth, just spoke more than a picture ever could.

“Atten-TION!”

And back to one solid movement. Left leg picked up and dropped by the right. Feet at a 60˚ angle. Arms by the side, hands gripping the side of his pants. Everybody in complete unison, exactly on the beat. Like nothing of before had happened.

“Parade… Dis-MISS!”

Pick up right toes and left heel. One, two-three… one! Snap to the right. Salute the flag… Hold, two, three… March, two, three…

And all over.

Hunter… somehow managed not to sprint but just… well, march double-time back indoors. Into the hall, where there was air conditioning and filters and no dust or pollen and boxes of Kleenex.

As he entered, though, the feather-weight of a small hand placed itself on his shoulder and he spun around.

“Here.” His regional officer – Ms Beiste – held out to him one of said boxes as she drew him into the office.

“Thandks.” Well, this was… unorthodox. In so many ways. He pulled a few out, holding them to his streaming nose.

“You know,” she said, her green eyes sparkling, “they mentioned the infamous corporal Clarington to me before I came in – told me how he ran his division, how he treated everything with the utmost respect… I know men of higher rank than myself that could only dream of the control and precision you hold during parade.”

He sniffed, rubbing the tips of his fingers against his forehead. “… Thandk you?”

“Oh, it’s definitely a compliment. You should learn to take them,” she grinned, pushing him gently into a seat by the desk and shutting the door. “I mean… I’ve seen people fall out before, but… with that sort of allergy attack I’m amazed you’re still breathing.”

“Sorry,” he coughed.

“No, not at all! I merely mean to comment on your control. Especially over something as uncontrollable as a sneezing fit. You did everything perfectly. Textbook.” She shook her head, snorting. “Hunter, today you earned my respect.”

He sniffed. “Thandk you, mba’amb.”

“I have to ask… Are you alright? Is that a regular sort of occurrence for you?”

This time he was the one to smile. “The attack left mbe a little dizzy, but I’ve had worse… Definditely ndot a regular occurrendce, though, thadkfully.”

“Well, you sit as long as you need, alright?”

He nodded, slowly, before his nose began to twitch... again... "Heh... ish-ieu! It'ish'uhhh! TCHOO!"

“Bless you! Is there anything I can do?”

“Apart fromb a ndose trandspla-t?” He joked, cleaning himself up with another Kleenex.

“That can always be arranged,” she deadpanned. “I just want to say, though… I’m aware of the, uh… situation you’re currently in. But, today proved two things to me.”

He looked up at her… She was so cool, so un-military-like. He actually… kinda liked her… Kinda trusted her…

“One: that, no matter where you find yourself, you’ll always have the search and determination to pull through it. Whatever you want – if you can dream it, you can do it, kid – and don’t you forget it!”

“Add two?”

She grinned toothily, cheekily. “To never let you out into the open without meds again!”