What Happens in May

[VoOs]

Because the world needs a male allergy fic every once in a while.

 

No plot in sight, only self-indulgent hayfever misery. Also, I wrote this between four and five in the morning, so I expect there are some mistakes in there. 

 

Characters are my OCs, Isandro and Ida. This is basically what these losers are for.

 

————————————-

 

It’s Saturday morning, on a warm, breezy, sun-sprinkled day in the middle of May.

He’s grateful for that first fact. The other two? Not so much.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, he reaches through the small jungle of houseplants on the kitchen windowsill, locates the radio and switches it on. He manages to catch the second half of the eight o'clock news, followed by the weather (partly cloudy, up to 23 degrees Celsius) and then - the pollen forecast. The perversely cheery radio voice only confirms what he has been suspecting from the moment he pried his eyes open this morning: grass pollen, birch, oak, elm; all of his old nemeses are off the charts today and his entire face is under fire from their joint onslaught.

“Well, won’t this be fun”, he grumbles, to nobody in particular. Not that he’s bitter or anything. Why would he be? After all, his eyeballs only feel as though somebody has taken a sandpaper to them during the night.

He turns off the radio. For a minute, the only sounds to be heard in the small teal- and terracotta kitchen are the soft burbling of boiling water and his own sniffling.

Snff… he clenches his hands inside the pockets of his dressing gown … snff… he shouldn’t…  snrff… it’s only going to make it worse in the long run… snf, snf, snrrff! Oh, for fuck’s sake…!

The entire inside length of his nose feels throbby and hot with itchy swelling, a tick(l)ing time bomb primed to go off at any moment. Against all better judgment he brings his hands up to rub at it, and once he starts he can’t stop, his fingers pinching and working the dark pink ovals of his nostrils back and forth and round in frantic circles, desperate for even the smallest bit of relief.

His eyes are spilling over, tears wetting his cheeks and dripping from his chin as he pours his tea and butters his toast. With his hands occupied elsewhere and his nose momentarily left untended, all it takes is one sniffle and the itch in his nasal passages seems to virtually explode; the butter knife clatters to the floor as both of his hands return to his face, clamping his burning nose between his steepled fingers. Massaging up and down, the yielding cartilage popping audibly, the skin on his nose already raw from the friction, and yet no matter how long or hard he rubs, he’s unable to get at the deeper itch, further up in his sinuses. Unreachable. Unbearable. And quickly building to a tipping point -

“huh'hh…”

He lowers his hands and tilts his head back, his mouth falling open, helplessly slack at first, then curling back to reveal his teeth in a ticklish grimace-

“huhh…uh'huhh…”

His nostrils flaring in and out in time with each involuntary gasp -

“heuhh… hh!-hh!-hhuh-?! Oh, come on…”

How is it even physically possible to be this absurdly itchy and still not be sneezing? This is ridiculous. The attack he’s been fighting to keep at bay ever since he woke up with his nose shock-full of pollen suddenly can’t happen soon enough, and he’s in agony. He absolutely has to sneeze. He has to. Oh god, just let him -

“hh… hhheh…”

Still, for another twenty seconds or so, his allergies see fit to leave him hanging, the entirety of his attention held hostage by the twitching mass of irritation that is his hayfever-stricken nose. Then, as though the universe has finally decided to take pity on him, the clouds in the sky outside his kitchen window break apart to reveal the morning sun. Mercifully, its light is bright enough to pierce through his closed eyelids, triggering his photic reflex as easily as one would flick a switch. One last, sharp gasp, and then he’s snapping forward, doubling over with a gale-force fit of rapid sneezes:

“AESCHtsh! - ATSCHuh! - ‘TSCHh'TSCHngh’HNGTSHh!!”

The attack goes on and on, barely making a dent in the itch even as the sneezes scrape violently past the back of his throat and rip through thick layers of pollen-laden congestion. Leaning one hand against the kitchen counter to steady himself, he presses the palm of his other hand tightly over his mouth and nose in a futile attempt to muffle the sound and force, somewhere at the back of his mind foggily remembering that Ida worked the night shift on Friday and still needs, and deserves, at least another couple of hours of sleep.

He needs to keep it down. But more than that, he really needs to -

“aeh'NXGHh!”

Is it actually getting worse? The sneezes don’t seem to offer him any relief whatsoever, but rather they are triggering each other in some sort of volatile chain reaction. His eyes are streaming, and so is his… ah, fuck, where are the paper towels?

“’h'nNGXh!-'nxgh!-ah! -’HXXXnkt!”

Ow. Note to self: attempting to stifle by pinching his nose shut mid-fit is not recommended. Not if he wishes to keep his eardrums intact.

“hh'AESCHhuh! AESCH!-eish!-'eish!-’eish!-'esh!-’sh! - - -!” (Breathe, you idiot!) “heaahh…!- AH'EGHSCHooh!!”

And that’s when the realization finally hits: he forgot to take his allergy meds last night. Because he fell asleep waiting for Ida to come home and she, of course, was too considerate to wake him up when she did. Normally there are at least some antihistamines left in his system from the night before, lasting him until the morning meds can start to take effect, but not today. Today of all days, when the pollen count is one of the highest in memory. Because of course it is.

So. This is life sans antihistamines, in the height of hayfever season, and it is not pretty.

Now, if he could only stop sneezing for three seconds so that he could see where he was going -

“AESHuh! - ASCHhuh! 'hTSCH-tshh-tgSCHh!”

That’s clearly asking too much.

“Iso?”

And so, it would seem, is asking for the chance to get himself under something resembling control before his wife sees him in this state.

“Have you taken your…? Ah, hold on. I’ll be right back.”

While Ida is off in the bathroom, he manages to feel his way to one of the kitchen chairs and slump down on the seat. This is probably for the best, since he’s started to feel rather woozy from lack of oxygen. And he still feels as if he’s snorted a three foot line of pollen straight up his sinuses. The whole center of his face is basically a red focal point of inflamed nerve-endings, and he’s so congested that he’s now forced to sneeze entirely through his mouth (which can’t be helping his situation one bit).  

“Here. Meds. As quick as you’re able.” Ida is back, pushing a pill into his hand while placing a glass of water on the table in front of him, and he is so genuinely grateful that he for a moment forgets to feel embarrassed.

Once he’s downed the pill and placebo has set in, if not the meds themselves, he’s able to get a couple of words out between further flurries of sneezing.

“I'mb… ’hnxgh! … I'mb a real catch, am I not?”

She twinkles as him, her smile lopsided and kind beneath her bowl cut.

“You most definitely are. I mean, usually I prefer to be off duty when I’m at home, but this is alright.”

“You’re a’d angel”, he sniffles, dead serious.

“I’m something even better: I’m a nurse.”

“Sabe thi'g.”

“Aw, shush. Come back to bed with me?”

He grinds his exhausted nose against the heel of his hands, still feeling the tickles buzzing in there like a swarm of angry wasps.

“I will still be doi'g this for ahh… ah'tsch! …f-for a while yet.”

She leans in and places a light peck on the tip of his nose, causing it to twitch dangerously.

“I don’t mind.”

 

Edited November 12, 2016 by VoOs

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

Whelp I'm done.   This was wonderful!!

Edited November 12, 2016 by Kaze wo Hiku

[Shamaël]

Wow. Just... wow. I love your writing. I really do. In fact, I've been reading (and greatly enjoying) everything you've written and drawn for Sherlock (your fics and Spoo's fics just caught my attention on Internet when I wasn't registered on this forum) and I'm very glad to discover your OC's. Thanks for sharing.

[SneezyHolmes]

Wonderful work! I loved how descriptive this was!

[tenderwarrior]

Very cute! I love allergies. This was a real treat!

[Dusty15]

Pure delicious allergic torture  There's not much better, especially from you! That was very much enjoyed

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Yowza! That was amazing. 

12 hours ago, VoOs said:

So. This is life sans antihistamines, in the height of hayfever season, and it is not pretty.

Well beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my dear. And this was bea-u-ti-ful!  

12 hours ago, VoOs said:

“You’re a’d angel”, he sniffles, dead serious.

“I’m something even better: I’m a nurse.”

“Sabe thi'g.”

Aww... 

12 hours ago, VoOs said:

“Aw, shush. Come back to bed with me?”

He grinds his exhausted nose against the heel of his hands, still feeling the tickles buzzing in there like a swarm of angry wasps.

“I will still be doi'g this for ahh… ah'tsch! …f-for a while yet.”

She leans in and places a light peck on the tip of his nose, causing it to twitch dangerously.

“I don’t mind.”

 

Nope, none of us would. Now would we? 

[Shay]

Well, that was an intense little story you wrote. You're quite a master at describing allergic torture.

[March Hare]

You are so perfect at pr0n it's fucktastic.

[RemedyBane]

in love with this

[Wild Man]

This is the best thing ever!!!

 

 

[Christine sandy]

Wow... I loved it!!!! One of the best stories ever