Just In Case - (Original, M) - 1/1

[Garnet]

Hi! Cross-posting this one from tumblr. I found this in my drafts nearly finished, so I banged out the rest, gave it a once over, and slapped a bow on it. It probably could have gone in my drabble thread, I guess, but then @Nova went and did a gorgeousamazing cover sketch for it and now I must SHOW THE WORLD.

Anyway, this involves my monster character Sanjit from our collaborative modern fantasy universe. Mostly in human form but a little extra extra (still humanoid) at the end. It’s set in San Francisco in the 1970′s but I didn’t bother to make it fit the era too hard or give many nods. Just for your reference. Enjoy!

---

 

 

 

The gauzy, layered film of a secondhand curtain whisked back from the picture window, and cringed the occupant of its glare into immediate, croaking dismay. Head tucked, knees gathered, so that the fetal shape of him was a sad and crumpled comma in a pool of cheerful sunshine.

"Oh My God," Cream blurted. "It's two in the afternoon! How are you still asleep?"

In response, the disaster of patterned flannel and crinkled sheets reeled back for a shuddering inhale, caught all crackling around the edges, and then doubled in on himself with flurrying purpose.

"...ighk-SCZSHHhh'hhh!"

Cream paused for a moment, impressed by the force and volume from his roommate's relatively more compact shape. He was also waiting for the follow-up, and was not surprised when the wretched mess he'd uncovered snagged a shallower breath and vented it into the sore cup of both hands. Over and over, accompanied each by a twitch of his shoulders and a groan of the mattress upon its wobbling boxspring.

"Ih-chsszh! -- chsszh! chsszh! chsszh! snrff... ughk, I," he tried halfway through, expression a quavering limbo, "I...--ih'CHZSSCH'ue!" Cream might have worried for his oxygen levels, if not for Sanjit's natural resilience. Anyway, he seemed resigned to his fate, crunched in and sneezing with thick and aching abandon into the private space of his curled body.

When the fit at last ended on a cracked throat note of misery. Sanjit gathered himself up into a closer knot still, and creaked his woe. "Shud the wih'dow." With guilt creeping in, Cream replaced the thin barrier between the city beyond and the concentrated horror within, once again casting his roommate's shape into pockets of terra cotta and fuzzy shadow. Nice colors, to a passing eye, but they worried the homecomer more than any more unnatural shades.

"That cold didn't go away, huh?" He ventured, as he docked one hip to the edge of the mattress. Usually, Lulu could be found curled up here as well. His own cat tended to favor Sanjit's company over his own, but even she must have deemed the salvo of each new fit too much for her time.

"God'worse," Sanjit muffled from the fold of both arms.

"Oh, honey."

This was a problem. Not just because he genuinely liked his live-in companion's actual company, but because his was a nature especially contingent upon a functioning nose. Cream placed a pale hand upon a thin, dark arm, and rubbed what he hoped was some of his good will into the clammy skin. "What happened? I thought you were usually pretty resistant to this stuff."

"Usually," Sanjit lamented, still without untucking his head from the fortress of his own limbs. Cream's best impression of him came in sharp, underfed angles and curls of tangled hair that he kept luxurious on a sparing diet of.... what, rotten avocados and dead fish? One day he'd have to ask for his regimen. "But d'othig lasts foreh-hh-HH!" Cream's hand cringed back as Sanjit's figure tightened into a series of short, abbreviated "ihggksh!" noises that he wasn't quite sure to place as either a cough or a sneeze. To be safe, he didn't bother to procure a blessing.

"...right. Do I need to backpack your ass over to the hospital?"

"Hah," Sanjit uttered. A short, bitter sound through the usual layers of his thick Bengali accent. The congestion had occluded them a little, and the typical, quick lilt of his voice was slower now, sludgier. "See what they will do for m'be."

"Fair enough," Cream acknowledged, who calculated roughly the amount of amoxicillin needed to treat what Sanjit was. Far beyond the limits of human medicine, he thought, even if they'd agree to let him in the front door of whatever imagined hospital might prescribe it. Times were changing, but not fast enough for monsters like this, with needs like this.

"What else can I do?"

"D'othig," Sanjit grumbled, petulant and ill. Even if he had long accepted that nothing would ever come of this abiding relationship of theirs, Cream allowed a small kindle of affection to stir in his heart at the miserable sight of him. Maybe it was just pity.

"You could be big, at least. You know I don't mind."

"Hm," Sanjit answered, dispassionate, and Cream left it at that. When quiet reigned for several moments too long, Sanjit's froggish voice raised out of the muzzy afternoon haze. "How was Michael?"

"Oh," Cream said, quietly. He leaned back on one hand, the mattress creaking under his shifting weight. "... not all that I'd hoped for."

"I thought you had hid id-- snffhh! ... hit it off?"

"We did, at first," Cream grumbled, as he used the other hand to smooth Sanjit's shirt hem, chiffon or something lighter. Who fucking knew his fashion choices, even on his sick days. "Things were great, when he was in town. I mean, you remember?"

"I remember," Sanjit supplied, with a bitter sort of amusement.

"Hah. I mean, it was great then, but this was. I dunno. He was so distracted," Cream lamented, of his long weekend spent upstate. "The first night we had a few drinks, fucked, it was nice. But he ended up just like... working or... running around most of the weekend? I just stayed at his pad and watched cable. I'm pretty sure he went out with friends one night, and just came home to get a blowjob. It was almost embarrassing. I'm starting to think that he just wanted a place to stick his junk."

"Ho'dey," Sanjit gritted, through the ruined topography of his throat. "What are you doing with a fug'k off lig'ke thad?"

"I can't even understand you, fox. Really."

Sanjit sniffed hard, tightening his features into quiet crinkles of agony, before he went on. "I mean, you are too good for some simpering old queen who doesn't know his ass from his face."

"I'm not, though," Cream sighed, and lay down beside the crumpled shape of him. The bed was small, but so was Sanjit, and so he was free to take most of it. "Have you seen me? It's like God spilled a person."

To Cream's grunting surprise, Sanjit's elbow drove back into his gut, more admonishing than any effort to create a buffer of space between them. "I mean what I mean, stupid," he growled, then rolled over to face him in a bleary heap of limbs. Just two arms and two legs, for the moment, but he still managed to make it look complicated. "There are a lot of ways to be beautiful. Look at me. Sweaty, weak, and I'm still fucking gorgeous, but it does not make me good on the inside. You, you have got it good all the way through, top and bottom."
 

Cream bit his lip to button down his grin. "Was that a sex joke?"
 

In lieu of an immediate response, his companion's expression fractured into a crumple of dismay, lip curling back from teeth that seemed they should be a little sharper than they were. He took a breath, but spared Cream the crossfire as he twisted away and wrenched with release.
 

"--igk'KSSZSCH-ue!" It was a throttled, painful sound, nothing like the tired, but irritated fits he'd been starting in on before Cream had headed up to Sacramento. This sounded like something suspiciously more sinus-y, which... well, he didn't know much of Sanjit's physiology, beyond the obvious sticking points, but that probably couldn't be much fun. "...IH'CHISSCHhh!"
 

"Ouch. Bless you, honey."

 

Sanjit sighed, but slumped back with more resignation than bitterness, and wiped a weepy nostril. He hadn't really even bothered to cover the wet spray of release that now speckled the sheets on his side of the bed, but Cream couldn't begrudge that. His space, his... germs? "Yes. That was a sex joke."
 

Oh. Right. He laughed, when the thought returned, and shook the bed. Not with the strength of Sanjit's sneezes, but enough to make its frame rock. "Well, thanks for not making it a cannibalism joke, anyway," he said. That topic, as it turned out, was not any more taboo than any of their others. Even when you were a human living with your apex predator.
 

Sanjit groaned, the sound turning gravelly as he rolled back into the pillows. "I have not had an appetite in days. Lucky you."
 

"And there it is," Cream chuckled, but sat up and rubbed his beard. "Seriously, though, that's starting to sound nasty. You think you're getting an infection?"
 

"It feels it. I hope not."
 

"Me too." For everyone in the building's sake. "I'm curious, though, no blue? I thought it was supposed to feel kind of good to take a glamour off. Might help."
 

"It's not a glamour," the sorry heap reminded him with a sigh that sounded a little pitted and catching, like it wanted to either rattle in his chest, turn into a cough, or both. Nasty. "It does feel the most comfortable, but for..." He thought for a second, squinting the wet black of his eyes open and jerking an impatient hand towards his face. "Nose... things? Everything is so dramatic. I sneeze and the fucking dishes rattle."
 

"Better to take the human handicap, huh?"
 

"Sometimes. Also, I do like to fit in the bed. You want to talk about your ass being big..."
 

Cream laughed again, already feeling some of that hollow disappointment of the weekend beginning to fade away, replaced with the comfort of routine banter. That coming home to a sick monster in the shitty side of The Castro was nicer than actually seeing his once-promising new beau was... probably pretty telling. But that was something he could explore at the bottom of a glass of wine later tonight. For now, he gave Sanjit's shoulder a pat.
 

"Okay, well. If you change your mind, I'm fine with it." That sort of thing had been generally implicit since Sanjit had moved in. That wasn't the sort of roommate situation you walked into blind, even if you did share an outcasts sticking together sort of vibe. Even so, sometimes it was nice to say things explicitly. He got the feeling that creatures of his caliber heard it even less often, though Sanjit would sneer at the idea of needing any validation.
 

Exhaustion mitigated that response now, as he turned back towards the wall and flopped a weary hand at Cream. "I'm going back to sleep. Throw something if I snore."

---
 

The nightlife turned out without him, that evening, in neon slips and streams of first dates, chance encounters, and missed connections. The city would thrive on, and so would his love life, but the glass of wine had turned into five, and it wasn't until the early hours that he jolted out of his break-up coma.
 

The walls were shaking.
 

Or... more accurately, the wall his headboard leaned against. Through the slur of his boozy brain, Cream identified an accompanying racket, and groped a hand towards the nightstand. Earth quake, probably. It didn't feel like a bad one, but he could grab the cat, wake Sanjit, and...
 

"H-WRISSZSCHH-ue!"
 

Oh. Just as he'd stumbled his slippers on, he registered through groggy blinks the two wild green eyes of Lulu, hiding under his bed. Also the sound of someone drawing a painfully audible, warbling breath through the wall. Not an earthquake.

 

"--h'WRHSSCHH!"
 

Nonetheless, he navigated the bedroom and hall beyond via the ambient light of the city pooling in through the windows, and trudged to the living room. He moved softly, despite his bulk, and with arms tucked close to his chest, he made discreet his peek around the corner.
 

His roommate, in his most terrible shape, sat sprawled on the living room floor as if he'd slumped there in a final defeat. Cream didn't strictly expect many other postures, since most of their furniture was far too small for a rakshasa, and Sanjit couldn't stand up straight in this apartment without hitting his head on the ceiling. He could throw in the fucking towel on pretending at humanity, though, and was doing so now among the shattered remains of what seemed to be a drinking glass. Possible that he'd dropped it. Equally likely that he'd dashed it to the floor in a fit of aggravation. The rake of new clawmarks that decorated the coffee table, their furrows rim lit by the glow from the kitchen, nudged the evidence in one direction.
 

"--h'WRISSCH! ... --hh'WRRISSCH!"
 

Four long, lithely muscled and bare blue arms clenched with the effort of his furious sneeze, its very sound suggesting how sick of this shit the owner was. Between the talons that scraped across the carpet with the capsizing pitch of each explosion, the long, thick tangles of black hair that had half-shrouded his face, and the sharp lines of his tusks that jogged down like paired spears, Cream deemed it wise to stay as a bystander. He'd already decided not to mention the coffee table, in the morning. Probably not the glass, either.
 

He did, however, stay transfixed to the spot just long enough for one more sneeze, built from the arch of soft nostrils turned a wrathful shade of raw salmon. The stretch of Sanjit's twitching grimace, teeth bared, could so easily be interpreted as a snarl that Cream needn't imagine the real fear of someone staring down that menace as a genuine threat. Even as the result of a tickle that had stayed too long and wriggled too deeply into his sinus, it was an ugly sight. The shuddering pattern of his inhales sounded grunting and tigerish in his chest, nothing like a human as he arched back, back with angry desperation...
 

"Huh-WRISSZSCHH-UE!!" 

 

In the copious silver spray of release that followed, Cream vaguely hoped that his roommate would remember to wipe down the literal entire floor when both he and his nose had finished their tantrums. For now, as Sanjit bent forward into the coughing fit that had naturally followed, he edged carefully back down the hall. He had yet to regret his decision to share an intimate living space with a monster, particularly one rumored to dine on his own flesh. Even so, it was easy to forget all the sharpened points and many eyes until they were clenching and grimacing in the midst of something uncontrollable.

 

Tomorrow, he'd drop by the pharmacy to pick up tissues and tea and something stupid and shiny that might earn a smile. Tonight, just in case, he locked the bedroom door on the way back in. 

 

 

[March Hare]

Ohmygod.

I'm drunk and now THIS.

WOMAN. MAH FEELS.

ALSO EVERYTING.

let me trythis when sober. 

[Mr. Black Cherry Berry Tea]

Just stopping by to say that this was lovely and delightful. Thank you for writing and sharing.

[Arty]

Medic!!!!!!! Arty has fallen sick due to handsome blue monsters!!!!! 

 

CODE BLUE!!!!!!!!

[Dusty15]

4 hours ago, Garnet said:

Sanjit sighed, but slumped back with more resignation than bitterness, and wiped a weepy nostril.

I hadn't thought to describe a nostril as 'weepy' but now I'm totally weak for it and I love it  

Sexy and fun and original and so very well written! Brilliant, as always, Garnet! (And Nova, too, with that gorgeous drawing!!)

[March Hare]

"a wrathful shade of raw salmon"

THAT is GORGEOUS.

 

[Sageacity]

Mmm. You are a genius with putting fool proof imagery into the reader's mindscape. Man do I pity Sanjit, this bug isn't giving him any rest.  

And don't get me started on the wicked limelight on his irritated and flushed state, and any time you put "arch" to use in the story promises a good time. 

 

[Nova]

I am so ugly in love with this man and so weak for backstories with past relationships for characters that I know well. It gives me a “when we were strangers” feel that’s both exciting and relaxing at the same time. 

Not that there’s much relaxing about this story, because jesus, it’s all so hot, hot, hot and it doesn’t matter how much I fan myself. Still melting. Like I said to you before, I sometimes feel I should have some sort of sympathy for him when he’s suffering, but… there’s just no room for that, you know? I only have need, lust and heavy breathing to offer. Sorry, Sass.

Blblblb… whenever I read him, I find myself cross referencing it to past texts and things I know/remember, and my reaction to the g’s and k’s in the sneeze spellings was ridiculous. In the best of ways, of course. “Oh man, oh wow, he’s not feeling great right now *sweats* ♥”  Or, you know:

Quote

"--igk'KSSZSCH-ue!" It was a throttled, painful sound, nothing like the tired, but irritated fits he'd been starting in on before Cream had headed up to Sacramento. This sounded like something suspiciously more sinus-y, which... well, he didn't know much of Sanjit's physiology, beyond the obvious sticking points, but that probably couldn't be much fun. "...IH'CHISSCHhh!"

^ Pretty much sums the best of my feelings up: "That sounds worse than ususal". And that you, in passing, mention how things have grown progressively worse over time like that? Thick sin. Little hints at nice things in the past are one of my favourite happy-horn-drugs in stories. You added a thing like that in Payment Owed as well – an "you were sick a few days ago" – and I still shiver when I think about it. This... is an even higher number on my Richter scale. 

Also: 

Quote

He could throw in the fucking towel on pretending at humanity, though, and was doing so now among the shattered remains of what seemed to be a drinking glass. Possible that he'd dropped it. Equally likely that he'd dashed it to the floor in a fit of aggravation.

^ I'm so, so sorry Sanjit, but your visible flashes of maybe-anger/frustration rubs me in all the right ways because: that's the spot. Uhghghg...

And a last, not entirely unrelated thing that I (also) love:

Quote

[...]the long, thick tangles of black hair that had half-shrouded his face[...]

He has so much hair and even more when he's big. And there's so much that will be a tangled, sweaty, ugly mess and I just... It's so nice. His fancy ass, ruffled like a ducking in the rain storm. Terriblö.

Just have my heart, girl. All of it.

 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I always enjoy your stories Garnet. You never fail to please.

[M214186]

Loved this story. A very nice deviation from your normal roommate story. 

[Oolia]

On 1/6/2017 at 2:40 PM, Garnet said:

He was also waiting for the follow-up, and was not surprised when the wretched mess he'd uncovered snagged a shallower breath and vented it into the sore cup of both hands. Over and over, accompanied each by a twitch of his shoulders and a groan of the mattress upon its wobbling boxspring.

 

On 1/6/2017 at 2:40 PM, Garnet said:

Anyway, he seemed resigned to his fate, crunched in and sneezing with thick and aching abandon into the private space of his curled body.

 

On 1/6/2017 at 2:40 PM, Garnet said:

With guilt creeping in, Cream replaced the thin barrier between the city beyond and the concentrated horror within, once again casting his roommate's shape into pockets of terra cotta and fuzzy shadow. Nice colors, to a passing eye, but they worried the homecomer more than any more unnatural shades.

These are just a few of the beautiful images you always manage to paint with exact, perfect words, yet they are always unique and interesting. I'm in awe of your talent to craft such detailed, poetic scenes with few words.

I also love how real your characters are. They always have a little backstory of where they were, where they'd been, things they've done that we haven't seen but can imagine, little quirks and inside jokes they have with each other that ensures none of them are cardboard characters just placed here for the story. They just feel so rich and alive every time! How do you do this

On 1/6/2017 at 2:40 PM, Garnet said:

The nightlife turned out without him, that evening, in neon slips and streams of first dates, chance encounters, and missed connections. The city would thrive on, and so would his love life, but the glass of wine had turned into five, and it wasn't until the early hours that he jolted out of his break-up coma.

Now this is my favorite sentence in your entire story. It legit makes me want to write and try to be as good as you  Beautiful and inspiring.

 

[Chickadee365]

Your descriptions and sneeze spellings are absolutely to die for. To be honest, I'm normally not a fan of non-human stuff, but your writing is so phenomenal that species is irrelevant  love this soo much!

[queenie]

Well played. The characters, the works, the description-- I love it all.