Roses: A Bodyguard Romance (m/m)

[ticklywombat]

A/N: Hello, this is my first fic here - please be gentle! Also, no sneezing yet; expect it around chapter 3. Hope you enjoy!

"Ssh now."

The protectee's name is Robin. Accurate, because he's tiny - slim-built and skinny with it, a foot or more shorter than Mel's bulky 6'5". Mel could almost imagine him as a bird, liable to fly away at any second. Which is good, because they have to get out of here. Beside Mel, Robin holds his breath, feet in scruffy trainers falling almost silently on the slippery floor.

"Good," Mel murmurs under his breath.

The problem is, they don't know where the bastards are. It's Mel's job to get Robin out, but that's a tough job. If it was Mel planning this, he'd put people at every entrance and exit, but it's a long time since he was anything but a bodyguard. They need to get out of here, get Robin to the safe house where he can be protected properly until he gives evidence, but it's a case of making for the nearest exit and reacting if they run into danger.

The nearest exit is east of here. Mel adjusts his sidearm in its holster and touches Robin's arm. "This way."

Robin nods and follows, mouth in a tight, thin line. There's a corner up ahead, and Mel takes maybe ten steps in that direction before he hears it: faint, far away, but coming in this direction. Voices and booted feet.

Vernon's men. Mel stops.

Robin says, "What?"

"Change of plans." Mel gestures to Robin and opens the nearest door - on a room that is, unexpectedly, full of flowers. "Come on."

Robin looks into the room and freezes on the threshold.

"What?" says Mel.

"Shit," Robin says. "The wedding. Vernon's daughter."

"So?" Mel says with irritation: he can hear the feet getting closer. There isn't a lot of time.

"Roses."

"So?" Mel says, and then decides they can't afford to have this argument out here. He grabs Robin by the waist.

It turns out that little bird-sized Robin is stronger than he looks. He plants his feet and resists, but even with his unexpected strength, Mel is stronger, and Robin isn't heavy. After a couple of seconds' tussle, Mel hauls him off his feet, lifts him into the rose-room, and shuts the door. "We've got to hide," he says, once the door is firmly shut. "They're coming."

Robin's eyes widen; Mel catches his alarmed expression for just a moment as he casts about the room for a hiding-place. There isn't much, except... right there, if they get behind the table with that massive floral display, the flowers, and the stacks of compost bags and pots of table, should make them almost invisible.

He reaches for Robin's arm; Robin pulls it away, and Mel sets his jaw. "Fine," he says, keeping his voice low. "Come with me."

He makes for the table and he thinks he hears Robin say, "Seriously?" under his breath, but he does follow Mel as he steps behind the table. There isn't a lot of space - Mel has to edge carefully to avoid knocking the floral display over, but Robin is fine.

"Crouch," Mel says.

Robin does, covering his nose and mouth with one hand. Mel does the same, watching Robin's face, his careful slow breaths under his hand, like he's trying to control his panic.

It’s hardly the first time Mel’s seen a protectee panic. He puts a gentle, reassuring hand on Robin’s shoulder and says, “It’s okay. Just try to stay quiet and this’ll be over soon.”

Robin glances up and him and nods. Mel drops his hand. For the next half a minute or so he tries to get into a more comfortable position without upending the giant floral display. It doesn’t work all that well, but he can just about rest his forearms on the table without sending the flowers crashing to the floor. They do wobble a bit, for just a second, but then they’re fine.

Silence falls. Robin is eyeing the flowers with a look of intense suspicion. Through the door, Mel can’t hear the men approaching yet. Keeping his voice low, he says, “What’s the problem with the roses, anyway? You’re not… scared of flowers, are you?” People are scared of all sorts of weird things, as Mel has had occasion to find out.

“Allergic.” Robin’s light voice is soft, and muffled by the hand over his face. “And you’re showering me with pollen.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Mel isn’t sure he can move his arms again without disturbing the flowers, so he doesn’t. Instead he holds still. “You’re not going to sneeze, are you?”

Robin gives him an annoyed sideways look. “Not immediately.”

“As soon as they’re gone, we’re out of here,” Mel says. Robin nods and looks down, focusing on his breathing. Mel waits.

He’s a bodyguard. Waiting is his strong point.

In the end it takes less than a minute before Mel hears the booted feet getting closer. Voices, though he can’t quite make out what they’re saying, through the door. Mel worries they’ll open every door, but they don’t seem to be - they’re moving too fast. With a bit of luck, they’re headed for Robin’s office, where Robin most decidedly is not.

After another minute or so, the boots move on, and the voices begin to fade. Mel waits until they’re completely inaudible, then murmurs, “Okay?”

When Robin doesn’t answer, Mel looks at him. He’s scrubbing at one eye with his free hand, and the other is blinking rapidly. After a second he says, “Fine.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Robin gets up first, sliding out from their hiding place with ease. Mel follows more carefully, watching the floral display wobble dangerously as he does. Robin gaps and catches it with both hands, holding the pot steady. It’s impossible for him to do that without getting up close and personal with the flowers, but it avoids a loud and messy crash. When Mel is out, Robin backs quickly away from the flowers - these ones, anyway. The room’s full of them. As he steps back, he raises one hand to touch the side of his nose.

Mel steps past him and opens the door just a crack, as quietly as possible, and peers out. The corridor is empty.

“All clear,” says Mel.

He opens the door wider and steps out of the flower room. He hears a small, delicate sniff from behind him, and then Robin follows.

[starpollen]

Ooooh this is very promising. 🤩

[anna]

Omg this is amazing!!

[BabyGoth]

Yay! I LOVE allergic men! Thanks for sharing! Cant wait!

[ticklywombat]

They walk - around the corner, and then another. This place is a maze. Mel has a solid sense of direction, and he stared at the blueprints of this place for an hour before he came to get Robin, but even he has to stop at the next intersection, trying to decide which corridor will take them closer to the east exit.

Robin stops beside him and gives another little sniff. “What’s the problem?”

“You know the way out of here?”

“Not this way,” Robin says. “I’m just a contractor, remember, only been here three weeks.”

That’s right. He came here on a temporary contract, spent his first three days snooping around everything he had access to and quite a few things he didn’t. Day four, he called the cops. The guy might be little, but he’s no coward.

“Left, I think.”

“Okay.” Sniff.

They go left, then right at the next T-junction. Robin, who listened and paid attention in those crucial first few minutes, is a couple of steps behind Mel, keeping as quiet as he can, making sure his trainers don’t squeak on the shiny floor.

Mel, who is also listening and paying attention, notices another little sniff. Then another. They’re getting more frequent, as they walk, until he hears a sniff every few steps. He glances over his shoulder to see Robin rubbing under his nose with a knuckle.

“Bothering you?” he asks.

“Itches.” Scrub. Sniff. “Fucking allergies.”

“Try and hush.”

“Kay.”

They walk on. If Mel’s guessing right, and they don’t get lost, he figures it’s about five or six more minutes to the exit. Not far at all. Mel has tissues in the car, and Robin can give his nose a good blow.

Behind him, Robin sniffs again. They’re starting to sound a bit wet.

Every time he looks back, Robin is touching his increasingly pink nose. Rubbing the side, or pressing his knuckle up against the underside, obviously trying to scratch that itch. Snf… snff.. snfff… The last one sounds really wet. “Ugh.”

“Not much further,” Mel says, looking over his shoulder. Robin is squishing his nose up with the back of his hand. “Three, four minutes.”

“Okay.” Snfff.

They round one more corner. Mel takes a few more steps, then realises something has changed - he can't hear Robin's footsteps anymore. He stops himself, turning, and sees Robin five or six steps behind, pinching his nostrils together. He sniffs, breathes out harshly, drops his hand. Robin is pale, fair-haired, and the glowing red of the tip of his nose stands out bright against the rest of his skin. Mel only sees that for a couple of seconds, because as he watches, Robin's nose twitches, and he brings his hand back to it, rubbing his nostrils together.

"We've got to keep moving," Mel says. "You all right?"

Robin looks up at him and drops his hand, but not far - it hovers under his chin. "Starting to tihh - hh - "

The words turn into a sharp inhale. Robin's chin tips up just a little, eyelashes fluttering, and his hand shoots back up to his face, a finger pressing firmly underneath his nose. He holds it there for several seconds, then breathes the air out carefully through his mouth. "Tickle," he finishes in a more normal voice.

"Don't you dare sneeze." Mel's heart rate is increasing at the mere thought. These corridors echo; a sneeze would really carry, and he doesn't know where Vernon's men are. One pack passed them going the other direction, sure, but if Mel was running this op...

Robin's testimony will blow the whole organisation wide open. There's no universe in which he's not a priority target.

Robin nods, and goes back to rubbing his nose fiercely as he catches up with Mel.

They turn onto a long corridor.

If they're where Mel thinks they are, they've got to get to the end of this corridor, make one more right, and then they'll be at the east exit. Around the corner from there, Mel's car is parked. Not long to go. Robin's sniffling with every step now, but it's fine as long as he doesn't sneeze.

Snffff.

Snffffff....

Snf!

"Hh - "

Mel turns on his toes, shoes making a tiny squeak on the floor. Robin's holding his finger under his nose again, mouth open, eyes squinting shut, but he's resisting. Mel says, "Can you hold it?"

"Not forehh - " The finger presses up harder against his red nose.

Mel cuts him off. "Couple more minutes. Nod or shake."

It clearly costs Robin some effort, but he nods.

"All right. Get it under control, then come on."

He waits while Robin slowly and carefully breathes out, sniffs hard, pinches his nose together, before moving on.

They get about five more steps, each one punctuated with a harsh sniff, before: "Hh!" Mel looks over his shoulder to see Robin fighting again to hold in his sneeze. He waits, aware of his own harsh breathing, until Robin lets out the breath, then turns without a word as soon as he seems to have recovered himself.

Ten more steps. Twenty. Every one of Robin's inhales is a sniffle; Mel can hear him carefully pushing each breath out of his mouth. Every now and then, it's a double sniff, and a big sigh out. Then, suddenly, in an urgent whisper, "Mr Brand."

Mel turns. Robin's mouth is open, nose scrunched and twitching. "I'm gonna snihh - snihh - hhh!" His finger presses up against his nose again, but it doesn't seem to help. "Hh..."

Mel panics. If Robin sneezes, there's a good chance he'll bring Vernon's men down on their heads. Mel's good, but he can't defend against ten or twenty armed men with only his Glock and a sneezing computer genius.

Robin pinches his nose. He presses his lips together, but they part again almost immediately. "Hhh..."

Mel doesn't know what to do.

"Hhh!"

[brownsasha11]

I am already intrigued. The suspense is well done. Can’t wait for more

[anna]

Eeeeep!! 😬

[deadaccount]

I'm already hooked on this one. You're amazing at building tension and interesting characters. Can't wait to see where this goes!

[A57]

oh this is lovely!! and this cliffhanger 

[ticklywombat]

A/N: Thanks for all your lovely comments so far! Feeling a bit embarrassed to post my First Ever Actual Sneezing, but I hope you enjoy it. 😃

---

Door.

Robin is clearly fighting with all his might, and clearly losing - he can't open his eyes or close his mouth, top lip pulled back to reveal his teeth, fingers going white pinching his nose shut. His body freezes, poised for the explosion, the second before Mel sees the door.

He has no idea where it goes or what's behind it, but it doesn't matter - it'll put a barrier between Robin's sneeze and the echoing corridor. Robin's body is rigid with muscle tension as Mel grabs him, one arm around his waist, the other reaching behind him for the door handle. It swings towards him. Mel drags. This time Robin has nothing to resist with, all his resources devoted to either fighting the urge to sneeze or preparing to let it go.

He hears another urgent "Hh-hh!" as he backs, fast, into what turns out to be a tiny room, his back hitting the wall almost before Robin is inside. Somehow he manages to reach past Robin for the door, pulling it shut as quietly as he can manage, half a second at most before Robin's head bobs sharply forward and his free hand flies towards his face. "Hh'kssh-kssh!"

It's very soft. Mel thinks, Well, that was a lot of fuss for almost nothing, but he's barely finished the thought before Robin's head bobs again. "Ksssch!" And again. "Hh'tsscht!" He isn't stopping. "Tsscht! Tscht! Hh - Hh’kssxt! " The sneezes are still soft, but Mel thinks there was a little more force to the last one. "Hh - hh'tsccht! H'tccht! Htch! Hetchh!"

They're definitely getting stronger. Robin's shoulders are starting to jerk forward with each sneeze. They're pressed so close in the tiny space, Mel can feel every movement of his body. "Hessch! Eh'tsch! Estchhh! Eh... ehtchu!"

Mel's glad they're not in the corridor. These are starting to get loud, and Robin clearly isn't done.

"Hhheh…” Pause. Robin’s body tightens, then jerks again, harder. “Ehh'tschuu! Ehh'tschiew! Ehhh... hhehhh..."

The rigid tension is back, Robin's body a solid hard line against Mel's. His hands are cupping his nose and mouth, muffling the sound, though not very much at this tiny distance. "Hheeehhh..." The tension builds, then snaps. "Eh'tschuu! Tschoo! Ehh-ehhh'chieeew! Eh! Ehh... Ehhh'CHOOO!"

Robin is snapping further and further forward as the sneezes intensify. If he goes much further, he'll knock himself out on the door. He wraps one arm around Robin's waist, holding him steady. "Ehh'CHIIIIEW!" Mel brings the other arm around too, a little higher. "Ehh-CHUUUUUH hehh..." Tension starting to build again. Robin's head rises a little from his hands, and Mel catches a glimpse of the mess caught there. "Ehhh... Hehhh...." His head tips back, chin lifting, his hair brushing the underside of Mel's chin. "Hheehhhhhh... ehh. EH'TCHU! EH'TSCHIEW! EHH-EHH-EHHHEE-TSCHOOOO!"

His body convulses against Mel's arms with each explosion, then relaxes suddenly. Mel listens to Robin's fast soft breaths, feels his ribs and belly rise and fall against his arms. His own breath is not entirely steady, for some reason, but after a few moments, he trusts his own voice enough to ask, "Are you - ?"

The sudden resurgence of tension cuts Mel off before Robin even makes a sound. He turns his head to look, and Robin's eyelashes are fluttering again as he struggles to keep his eyes open. His nose, right up close, is twitching and wriggling, nostrils flaring. And as Mel watches, Robin's mouth drops open. "Ah..."

Nothing for a second, just frozen tension. Mel can't look away. Then: "Aah... aaahh..." His nostrils seem to flare wider on each inhale, and the minute his breathing pauses, his nose twitches again, spurring another gasp for air. "Haaahh... aahhhh... aaaahhhh..." He isn't breathing out. Mel can feel his chest inflating, muscles rigid in his back as the sneeze builds inside him. This looks like torture, and Mel is overcome with the urge to stop it. Maybe if he lifted one hand and tickled the tip of Robin's red, twitching nose - would that set the sneeze off? Or just frustrate him more? "Aaaah.... haAAAH..."

Mel can't quite make himself do it.

"...aaaaAAAAH... AAAAHHHH...." The back of Robin's head hits Mel's shoulder; it's officially as far back as it can go. "AAAH!" His head presses into Mel's shoulder. Robin's whole body is tight with tension, frozen in place, ready to blow.

Nothing for about a second. Then Robin's nose gives the tiniest twitch, and the tension breaks. "AAA-TSCHIEW! ATSCHUUUU! AHH-AH'TSCHOOOO!" Robin's whole body flies forward, the force of the first sneeze almost taking him off his feet. Mel tightens his arms around Robin's slight body, feeling every jerk and convulsion until at last, Robin is practically hanging off his arms, only touching the floor with his tiptoes, panting from sheer exhaustion into hands that, now Mel has a chance to look, are dripping with clear mucus.

It takes quite a lot of breaths before Robin stops panting. Mel tells himself that's good - it gives him a chance to get his own breathing back to normal, too.

At last Robin says, "Uuuugh." He sniffs. "Allergies are so gross. You haven't got a tissue, have you?"

"Not sure just one tissue is gonna be much use." Mel is still holding onto Robin, who has managed to ease himself all the way back to a standing position. This place is so cramped, he's not sure what else to do with his arms. "You done?"

"For now," Robin says.

"For - ?"

"I'll be sneezing on and off for an hour or two," Robin says, and sniffs, hard. "Fuck roses." He makes a wordless noise of disgust, wiggling his dripping fingers. "How about that tissue?"

"I haven't got any," Mel says. He's struck suddenly with an image of his mother, always with at least one tissue up her sleeve to combat runny noses. Bodyguarding is not usually a lot like babysitting. "Hang on." For the first time, he takes in their surroundings. It's a tiny room, and between the two of them they're taking up most of the space, but it looks like a cleaning closet. There's a mop handle resting against Mel's hip, and the shelves are packed with supplies. Sponges... brushes... bleach... floor cleaner... aha! Toilet paper! Mel reaches up and grabs a roll, and is halfway to holding it out to Robin before he realises Robin doesn't have a clean hand to grab it with. He tears several sheets off the roll and reaches forward to gently clean the mess off Robin's hands.

"Oh, God bless you," says Robin fervently.

"Shouldn't I be saying that?"

Robin snorts. Mel thinks for a second it's the prelude to another sneezing fit, and then he realises Robin's shoulders are shaking. He's laughing. Mel feels himself grin. "Didn't count how many times," he adds, "sorry."

"I stopped bothering years ago," Robin says. The worst of the mess has been sopped up by the first round of tissues. Mel pulls another few sheets off the roll and hands them to Robin, who sets about wiping his hands thoroughly. "My ex used to, I think he got to thirty-three one time."

"Wow."

Another amused snort. "Yeah, I hate weddings."

Why? Mel thinks, and then, Oh. "I bet." Robin is done with the second round of toilet paper. Mel plucks them out of his hand and then, not seeing anything else to do with them, shoves the whole messy parcel into his pocket. He pulls more tissue off the roll. "Here, blow your nose."

"Thanks." Robin does, twice, then wads up the paper and shoves it back in his pocket with a hearty sniff.

"So an hour or two," says Mel. "Does that mean we've got to stay here until you feel better?"

"You said the exit was just round the corner, right? Couple of minutes?"

"Yeah."

"I can last that long."

Mel looks at Robin's nose. It's even redder now, but he doesn't see any sign of twitching. "Sure?"

"I'm sure." Robin nods firmly, mouth set in a determined line.

"Right. Okay. You can sneeze your head off in the car, I've even got proper tissues. For now..." He tears off another generous wad of toilet paper and hands it to Robin. "Just in case."

"Thanks," says Robin, and takes a deep breath. A totally voluntary one. Mel lets out a little sigh of relief. "Let's go."

[deadaccount]

This was quite the satisfying resolve to the cliffhanger. Can't wait for more!

[dominchoo]

man i really like this! thank you : )

[MiraKarat]

Aww thanks! I definitely would like to read more about these two!

[Kolen]

It's okay to feel shy with your first story, but don't worry!

With writing as good as yours, we'll a all be rushing for the newest update!  

[Hovercuke]

Oh wow, that was quite the fit! I loved it!

[ticklywombat]

They emerge into the empty corridor. Mel feels another little rush of relief - no men with guns waiting for them, so with a bit of luck, no one heard all those explosive sneezes. Robin only needs to control his nose for two more minutes - three at the outside - and then they’ll be on the street, where a little blond fella sneezing all over the place might get some looks but won’t be in extra danger. Three more minutes after that, they’ll be safely in Mel’s car.

That’s the plan. A plan which comes apart spectacularly about five yards from the corner.

Mel recalls that there’s a reception desk around that corner, right next to the east exit. As they close in on the corner, Mel hears a woman’s voice, high and frightened. “I’ve been trying! He’s not answering!” Then there’s a small, muffled gasp that Mel recognises: likely the woman has been grabbed. He holds up a hand, indicating that Robin should stop moving.

There’s a pause. Then a voice says, low and dangerous, “Where's Palmer?”

To his credit, Robin doesn’t gasp. Most protectees would gasp, or panic and run. When Mel looks round, Robin is stock still, though he has a look of alarm on his face. Mel gestures for Robin to turn around and walk, and follows him on silent feet away from the exit. Staying behind him, in case the man from reception comes this way.

They don’t say a word until they’ve made the turn at the other end of the corridor. Only then does Robin say, very softly, “Fuck.”

Mel is impressed by his restraint. “Yeah.”

“What now?”

“Now we figure out another plan.” Now the immediate danger has passed, Mel catches up so he can walk in front of Robin again. They should have sent more people.

“Like what?”

“The car’s by the east exit,” Mel says. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back that way, they might be watching. If we can get to the north-east, we’re golden, we’ll be five minutes from the car, but that’s fine.”

“What if they’re watching all the exits?” Again, Mel is impressed by the lack of panic in his voice. Not quite sounding like he’s asking a routine question, but closer to it than most people could manage without training. “What do we do then?”

Then we’re buggered, Mel doesn’t say. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let’s get to the north-east.”

“Right.” Another glance over his shoulder gives Mel a glimpse of Robin’s steeling-himself expression. “Which way?”

“This way.” Mel points straight ahead. Robin huffs a little laugh: it’s the only way to go apart from back towards the reception.

They walk, taking a right at the T-junction, then going straight ahead across a four-way intersection. Robin is quiet behind Mel - no words, no sniffs, just careful breaths and slow, barely-audible footsteps for a good couple of minutes. Then he says, “Why did you hug me?”

The question throws Mel off completely. “What?”

“When I was sneezing,” Robin says, a trace of sheepishness in that light voice. “You put your arms around me." Mel's so embarrassed, he stops walking, turning to look at Robin's face. "I'm not complaining, exactly, I just - why?"

Mel flushes. "You were jerking around like a puppet with its strings cut," he says. "Didn't want you to brain yourself on the door." No need to talk about how it felt, what it was like holding Robin against him as he jolted and twitched. "Supposed to protect you, right?"

Robin gives him a small, wry smile. "Bet it'd be easier to get me out of here unconscious." He cocks his head. "You could definitely carry me."

"Of course." When he's not resisting, Robin weighs almost nothing.

"Should we be moving?"

"Yeah." Mel bites back an apology and turns, beckoning for Robin to follow.

He listens for a few seconds, hears nothing but breathing and foosteps - Robin's his own. Then Robin says, "I guess a big tough bloke like you isn't allergic to anything."

"Dust," Mel says, "But that's nearly everyone right?"

"Not me. Can't go to a wedding or a funeral, but I can clean out your grandma's attic without so much as a sniffle. Weird how that goes. Do you get like me, with dust? Massive fits for an hour or two, then the headache to end all headaches?"

Mel shakes his head. "Might sneeze once or twice in a dusty room, but I'm fine when I get out into fresh air."

"Lucky sod," says Robin, and falls silent.

If Mel's right, the corridors are leading them into the quadrangle at the middle of the building, then out again. He swears this place is like a labyrinth. Maybe that's an advantage, if you run a criminal organisation like Vernon's - only those in the know can find their way around. Good way of keeping your secrets. Unless you hire someone like Robin Palmer, of course.

Robin, who not only cracked a bunch of encrypted systems and immediately went to the police, but sat tight and said nothing for two and a half more weeks while the law dragged its useless feet. If the agency hadn't got involved, there's every chance Robin would be dead at his desk right now. Instead, they're dodging Vernon's men in an unfamiliar maze-like building, and Mel made it all harder when he dragged Robin into that room full of roses.

He's reminded of this when he hears Robin sniff.

"All right?" he says softly.

"Yeah." When Mel looks over his shoulder, Robin is fiddling with his nose. "Itch is coming back."

"Need to sneeze?"

"Oh, it's coming," Robin says, and Mel feels a weird uncomfortable thrill at the base of his spine. It's the extra danger, he tells himself - the need to manage the noise and keep Robin safe while the tickle, while the allergic reaction takes control of him. That's all.

"Just let me know."

"Will do," Robin says.

Sniff.

[Arvani]

This is sooooooo yummy. I love the scenario and the two characters!! Please keep going!

[ticklywombat]

It's weird, watching the itch slowly take Robin over.

First come the sniffs. Soft and light at first, dry-sounding, not too often. Then, Mel looks over his shoulder and Robin's hand is at his face, rubbing at the side of his nose near the bridge. Mel figures that's where the tickle will come, when it comes. Right at the back of the nose where it's most irritating, hardest to soothe. They hit another long corridor just as the sniffles start to come more often, a little wetter, and the next time Mel glances back, Robin has pulled a piece of toilet paper from the wad in his pocket and is dabbing at the end of his nose. He has a distracted look on his face.

"How you doing?" he asks softly.

"Itchy." Snffff. "Fine for a bit longer."

"Okay."

Mel glances back every few breaths, checking for danger behind as well as in front of him. Robin looks more and more distracted as they walk; the itch must be getting worse. Does it tickle yet? he wonders. Would he tell me? He told me last time. That thought keeps circling around his head; he keeps having to remind himself to look out for danger, listen for feet and voices as well as sniffles and Robin's breathing. He'll know when Robin's close to sneezing from those little hitching gasps for air, harder and harder to resist...

Focus.

It's a long corridor; they're nearly halfway down it. A decent distance to run if Vernon's men show up from either direction, but not much use if they have guns, and they will. There are doors every so often, leading off to snff either side; Melvin knows some of them lead to other hallways, some into rooms with more than one exit, some to rooms or cupboards with snffff no other way out. Some good hiding-places, some good escape routes. But while Mel studied the blueprints hard, he doesn't have a photographic memory, and he can't sort out in his head which is which. If they have to run, they'll have to sn-snff!

Mel snaps his head around to look at Robin, train of thought interrupted. He's pinching the end of his nose, holding the square of toilet paper between fingers and nostrils. Mel can see a spreading spot of damp turning the paper translucent. SNFF!

"Does blowing your nose help?"

"Not exactly qu- quiet."

Was that an inhalation or just a stutter? "True."

"Keep going." Snfffff.

"Yep." Eyes front. One foot in front of the other. Don't stop. Don't watch. Don't give in to the urge to keep your eyes on the prettyboy as he slowly, oh so slowly, succumbs to the building itch. Itch turning to tickle. Tickle turning to ah... ahh...

Fuck's sake, he says to himself, quite harshly, but his brain keeps repeating, ah, ah, achoo, and it's doing something to his insides.

It's the fear. The danger. Robin is snf brave and funny and nice-looking, even with watery eyes and a red nose; Mel wants to protect him. That’s his job. The approaching fit is another locus of threat, one that, mismanaged, could bring snff armed men down on both their heads. Mel doesn't want to die in snfff the world's most labyrinthine office building, and snf-snff he doesn't want Robin to die here snff! either. He definitely doesn't want Robin to snff! die from his snfff! fuckup, and if Vernon's men come because Robin SNF! sneezed in the SNFF! wrong place, that's snff-snffff-SNFFF - 

"Hey - " Mel turns his head at the clipped word.

Robin is pushing the toilet paper up against his red nose, eyes wide, lips pressed together. He's fighting. "Tickle?" Mel asks, ignoring the squirmy feeling in the pit of his stomach when he asks the question, and the bigger squirmy feeling when Robin nods and clenches his jaw harder. Time to act. He grabs for the nearest door.

Locked. Shit.

There's another across the way, but that's locked too. Sparing a glance at Robin, who's pressing his finger under his nose, he takes a few quick strides down the corridor, beckoning Robin to follow. He hears footsteps and urgent sniffling behind him as he yanks on the door handle and opens it on a little room.

This one is lined with coat racks, laden with coats, and it looks like it hasn't been touched in years. The coats, the racks, everything, are covered in a thick layer of dust. Mel recoils, then turns to Robin. They should find a different room if there's time, but...

He looks around just in time to see the urgent expression hit Robin's face. It freezes for just a moment before his face transforms.

His nostrils flare. His nose scrunches and his eyelids flutter. The muscles at his jaws bunch - tight, tighter, resisting - then release suddenly as the tickle wins its first victory over Robin’s willpower. His mouth falls open as if pulled on a string. His chin tips up as the irresistible inhalation hits. "Ihhhh - "

Mel pulls him into the dusty room and closes the door.

[sweetnerd32]

This is so good!! I’m excited to see where it goes 

[starpollen]

Ohhhh this is delicious!!!   Do, go on!

[dominchoo]

patiently waiting for more haha

[Juto]

This is absolutely wonderful! Keep going. 

[Arvani]

I’m such a fan of this. Good lord. Thank you for sharing it with us! (And pretty please keep going!)

[brownsasha11]

Ohhh the suspense to quote @starpollen  Do, go on

[ticklywombat]

“Ihh… hihhh…” Robin’s head is thrown back, hands held up to catch the sneeze. Body tensed up, preparing for release.

Here it comes, Mel thinks. But Robin doesn’t sneeze. “Hih… hiihh…” Then, unexpectedly, he sighs out all that accumulated air. An annoyed expression crosses his face, and he reaches for the pocket of his jeans.

This room isn’t much larger than the cleaning closet, and with the coat racks, two grown men are a tight fit, especially if one is as large as Mel. Mel’s back is resting against one coat rack; Robin’s at right-angles to him, standing by another. There isn’t much light, but Mel has as a good a view of his face as is possible in the dimness. Not like last time, holding him from behind as the sneezes rocked his body. Watching his nose twitch from inches away.

Robin’s hand is still in his pocket when the oncoming sneeze tugs at his face again. “Hhiihhh… hh-hiihh… heehhh…” After that last hitch, his hand comes out of his pocket, holding the wad of toilet paper with an air of triumph. “Hhiih…”

He holds the toilet paper in front of his face, then gives another big sigh. The next two breaths are stuttery-normal. Mel finds he’s still watching intently, waiting for the buildup to begin again.

Robin’s nose wriggles, as if it’s trying to escape the tickle inside. His eyes widen, and a moment later his jaw drops. “Hhhh!”

Pause. Sigh. Nothing.

Then the whole process repeats. Wiggle... "Hhhhh - "... Pause... Sigh. Mel is so focused on Robin that he barely notices the faint prickle in his own nose as dust-laden air starts to invade.

I wanna watch you sneeze, he thinks.

"Hhh... ihh.... hiihhh..." Sigh. "Oh, come o - hhhh!" Robin sniffs, uses the toilet paper to wipe his nose, hitches again. "Hiih!" He can't seem to sneeze, but the tickle won't let him go, and Mel is struck again with the desire to stop the torture Robin's nose is inflicting on him. "Hhhiiihhh... heehhh... hihhh..." Big sigh, but then, almost immediately, "Hhhhhh!" Nostrils flaring. Eyes squinting. Almost there. Not quite.

I wanna help you sneeze. The thought comes unbidden and fully-formed into his head. He remembers his idea from last time, to reach out and tickle the end of Robin's nose. He just doesn't know if that would help.

"Hhhhhhiiiiihhh - " Robin's head tips back even further. "Ihh-hiihh - hhhh - " He's well within touching distance. Tentatively, Mel lifts one hand, reaching towards Robin's twitching nose, just as another helpless inward breath starts and his eyes finally close. "Hiihhh..."

I wanna make you sneeze.

Mel hesitates, shocked by his own thought, hand poised in midair, as the moment stretches.

"IIIIHH-TCHOO!"

Robin's sneeze jerks him forward, nose dropping into the toilet paper, and then he recoils, bouncing off the dusty coats. A cloud of dust puffs up around his body. Mel's nose wrinkles.

"CHOO! CHIEEW! Ihh-TSCHUU!"

Three more plumes of dust take to the air as Robin's back hits the coats again and again, and Robin pauses only to draw a giant breath. "Hhhheeeeeeehhh...."

He's just getting started.