E+M ("I'm Obsessed with You") M/M

[peach_princess]

Do you like:

- self-centered flamboyant models who happen to be possessed by demons?
- sad golden retriever men who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?
- watching strong characters break down to their most vulnerable state? (of course they get comforted... later)

Boy do I have a snzfic for you! It's a mix of "enemies to lovers", whump, a sickfic, and lots of rich-people bullshit. Naturally, we will have allergies later on because I cannot overlook my favorite trigger >:3
_________________________________

E+M - Part 1. (in which M is under the weather and determined to ruin E's day)

Tags: whump, sneezing, colds, m+m. Mini-chapters I and II - short character intro. Snz starts in ch. III

 

I. 

Eyes. Staring at him from every direction, surrounding him, burning him with red flames flickering in their pupils. He tries to get up, but his body feels numb. There's a lifeless body of a young man next to him. Scorched clothes expose delicate white skin, fractured like cracked porcelain by deep wounds oozing with liquid gold, overflowing, spilling on the concrete and solidifying on contact. Silver steam is rising from the gold liquid, and the man's skin is getting blistered around it. He wants to help the man, but he can't move. The eyes around him tremble and move closer, trapping him inside their circle. The dead man slowly opens his eyes, and the blinding golden light explodes from underneath his cracked eyelids, incinerating everything in sight with a deafening roar of the flames. 

Ethan jolted awake with a sharp gasp. He was covered in cold sweat, and his heart was pounding in his chest. The fire still roared in his ears, drowning out the shrieking sound of his own voice. Ethan closed his eyes and saw flashes of red and yellow, as if he was still inside the raging flames. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his small bedroom, surrounded by comforting darkness and familiar silhouettes of his furniture.

II.

"Good morning, how are you doing today?" Ethan entered a brightly-lit room and tugged on his teal scrub, straightening the wrinkles. "Hope you didn't have to wait too long.”

"Good morning, Dr. Nichols!"

A young man jumped up from his chair on the other side of the room and waltzed toward Ethan, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, his heels clicking against the floor with a loud staccato. 

"Pleasure to meet you. You can call me Marcel.” He shot Ethan a dazzling smile and extended a hand toward him. Ethan reluctantly accepted the invitation, startled by such a warm welcome to his own examination room. 

"So, how is she doing?" Ethan said, approaching a steel table in the middle of the room with a small calico cat sitting on top of it. He gently stroked the cat's hair, and she purred with delight. The cat looked at Ethan with its amber eyes and meowed in a raspy voice, as if asking what he was doing there.

"She's a good cat," Marcel leaned against the examination table, which slightly moved under his weight, making the cat jerk backwards clumsily, her paws sliding on the sleek surface. 

"I would ask you to not do that, please."

Marcel gave Ethan a surprised look but complied with the request. Ethan scratched the cat behind her ears, noting that her hair was a little brittle, and her small body felt frail as she slumped into his hands. 

"How old is Cat?" he asked, checking the notes left by the nurse. 

Marcel twisted a lock of his long black hair, pondering the question. "About 10 years? Maybe 15?"

"You don't know?"

"Oh, of course not! I just found her."

"You just found her?"

"Well," Marcel chuckled, looking at Ethan through half-closed eyelids, "not right this moment, but I found her on the street, and she followed me, so I took her home. It was 5 years ago, I think?.."

The cat looked like she was very old, likely older than 15 years, and Ethan felt a knot in his stomach as she clumsily pushed her head into his hands, purring. 

"Has she been eating lately? Have you checked her litter box? Does she have her vaccinations?"

"Oh, she's not a trouble at all," Marcel clasped his hands together, intertwining his long fingers, adorned with gold rings. "Do you have cats, Dr. Nichols?"

Ethan looked up from the notes and met Marcel's gaze, full of genuine curiosity. Ethan turned back to the nurse's notes. 

"Err, no. I don't." Ethan hesitated, considering if he should provide an explanation, but Marcel seemed satisfied with the short answer. 

"How has she been doing lately? Any changes in her habits? Food? Litter box?" Ethan repeated. 

"She has stopped eating two days ago, and the housekeeper has been complaining that she'd been making messes. What do you make of it?"

The calico cat let out another raspy meow, looking at Ethan with her big glossy eyes. Ethan felt his chest compress, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He didn't reply to Marcel and proceeded to check the cat's vitals. Her body felt limp, and no matter how hard Ethan tried to look, he couldn't find what he was searching for. Cat was dying of old age. Ethan looked at the chart left by the nurse in hopes of finding contradictions to his prognosis. 

"What was her name, you said?"

"Well, she's umm… cat," Marcel replied, yawning. 

Ethan sighed and petted Cat once again. What he was about to do was never easy, and he dreaded the feeling of helplessness that overcame him every time he had to deliver the news. 

“Marcel, your cat is dying. I'm sorry... There's nothing you could have done, she's had a long life. I... I'm so sorry."

Marcel stared at him, dumbfounded. He stopped playing with his jewelry and blinked slowly, as if he was processing Ethan's words. 

"I see," he finally said in a flat voice. "Thank you, Dr. Nichols. Do I pay at the front desk?"

Now it was Ethan's turn to be stunned. "Do you want to say goodbye to her? There's nothing I can do, but she... she will appreciate you being there in her final moments. We can make it quick, she won't feel pain."

"Oh, no worries at all. Dr. Nichols, thank you so much for taking care of her! It's been a pleasure." Marcel gave him a look that was supposed to indicate sincere gratitude. 

"Are you just going to leave her here?" the words came out louder than Ethan intended, and he exhaled sharply. 

"She is dying, right?" Marcel cocked his head. He was already at the door, holding onto the door handle. His gold jewelry jingled, and his heels clicked rhythmically as he stopped to reply.

Ethan nodded. 

"Have a wonderful day, Dr. Nichols!~"

Ethan could hear Marcel happily greeting Donna, the receptionist at the clinic. His voice was cheerful, and Ethan heard him laugh like he just got a latte on the house and was playfully denying the gift. 

Ethan scooped the cat into his arms and pressed her to his chest, trying to calm his own pounding heart.

III

"Goood morning, Dr. Nichols!~ How are you doing today?"

Ethan was having a good day until he heard a familiar voice. Marcel was sitting in the examination room with his legs crossed and his arms resting on the armrests with a hedonistic grace. He was wearing a black mock-turtleneck with a small heart-shaped opening on his chest, black leather boots with gold spikes, and black leather pants. He was covered in gold hoops and chains from head to toe. His black hair was gathered in a loose high ponytail, and his cheeks were blushed. Marcel brushed the side of his hand under his nose and sniffled, then leaned back into the chair. 

"Good morning," Ethan sighed, feeling his neck muscles tensing up in a painful knot. He thought he was done with this man two days ago. What did he want now? 

"I hope my visit is not too much trouble. I can only imagine how busy your schedule must be." Marcel brought his hand back to his nose and rubbed it vigorously. He noticed Ethan's amused look and continued, "Ah, do you like my outfit? I just returned from a photoshoot with T.A.H.R."

And picked up another cat on your way, Ethan thought.

"How did you know?"

Shit! I didn't mean to say it out loud!

Marcel rubbed his nose again, this time in a vertical motion from the bridge to the tip, which was getting a pink hue similar to his cheeks.

"Are you feeling alright? Should I open the window? There was a puppy before you, if that's bothering you."

"Ah, no worries, it is quite alright. I'm just coming down with a cold," Marcel said nonchalantly, as if he was declining a complimentary mint at a restaurant. 

"Are you sure you should be here right now?" Getting sick was the last thing Ethan needed in his already exhausting week. 

"Of course, Dr. Nichols!" Marcel said with a spark in his eyes. "I insist that you have a look at this little guy. I won't be in your way." He got up and pushed his chair to the other end of the room, then sat down, leaned back, and intertwined his fingers. 

Ethan contemplated ordering the man to wear a mask or go home, but then he noticed a little ball of fluff trying to get off the examination table all by himself. Marcel coughed into his hand, oblivious. Ethan rushed to the table and caught the fluff just in time as the kitten's claws scratched against the metal in a failed attempt to grab the edge. Ethan shot a glance at Marcel who was staring at the ceiling in a daze, his lips, covered in glittery lip gloss, slightly parted. Ethan was about to say something he was going to regret later, when Marcel's eyes snapped shut, and he jolted forward with a loud “Eh-TSCHHoo!!”, barely muffled into the crook of his arm. Marcel shook his head. "Wooo, bless me!"

No manners, Ethan thought to himself. 

"My apologies," Marcel added with a demure smile, looking into Ethan's eyes. He reached up and pulled on his hair tie, letting his long hair spill down in soft waves. He brought the hair tie up to his lips and bit down on it. As Ethan held the small fluff ball in his arms, Marcel proceeded to comb through his hair with his fingers. Gold jewellery shimmered in the dark waterfall cascading down his shoulders.

He was handsome, Ethan thought. And young, must be in his early twenties. A spoiled brat of rich parents toying with animals like they were his property. 

Still holding the hair tie in his teeth, his hands up in the air gripping his hair, Marcel absent-mindedly looked up. His upper lip curled as his nose twitched, and he inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“hh… hih… Ah-TSCHHew! Hh… Ah-tkSCHHew!”

His head snapped down, launching the hair tie onto the floor and spraying tiny glistening droplets all over his black turtleneck and leather pants. Marcel blinked rapidly, not letting go of his hair, then let out a small sigh. He reached down for the hair tie and tucked his hair in a high ponytail, then tugged on the strands to loosen them up. He brought a hand up to his nose and dabbed his nostrils on his index finger.

"Excuse me! Please don't mind me." Marcel exclaimed.

Ethan disregarded his statement and turned his attention to the kitten. He placed the ball of fluff onto the examination table and checked his mobility and physical condition. The kitten was completely healthy, but Ethan didn't trust Marcel to take care of him. 

"Hh… Hup-TSHHhew!.. Excuse me! I, uh... huh... Hh-ahTSCHew!!.. Phew..." Marcel slumped against the back of his chair and pressed the back of his hand against the reddened tip of his nose. He sniffled wetly. 

"Do you need a tissue?" Ethan grabbed a box of CleanX from the counter and held it in his hand. 

"Thank you, Dr. Nichols! How considerate of you!" Marcel's heels clacked on the tiled floor, and he graciously accepted the offer, clasping the entire box in his fingers. Ethan noticed that his nails were painted black. 

Marcel returned to his chair, scooting it closer to Ethan and the kitten. He settled the CleanX on his lap, pulled out a tissue, and blew his nose with a squelching sound. He folded the tissue and delicately dabbed it to his reddened nostrils. Ethan proceeded with his usual monologue: the kitten is healthy, here's his vaccination schedule, you'll need to get him microchipped and registered... 

"Have you taken care of kittens before?" Ethan asked, concluding his speech. 

Marcel put the soaked tissue down and leaned forward toward Ethan. "To be completely honest, no. This is my first time. But when I saw this little baby on my way home, I just knew it. It needed me, and I needed him. You know, Dr. Nichols, I never understood people who gifted pets or treated them like –"

"Kittens require a lot of attention and care, Marcel. Do you have the time necessary to provide it?"

Marcel thought for a second, then his eyes took on a relaxed expression and he smiled. He opened his mouth to reply, but Ethan suddenly realized that he didn't want to hear whatever the man had to say. Not after he left his cat to die and waltzed off without a care in the world. And now he wanted to take care of a kitten?!

"Did you at least name him?"

"I –"

"Why did you take him with you?" Ethan took a step forward and was now towering above Marcel. His voice was calm, but his eyes were glowing with quiet rage.

Marcel didn't reply. His face went blank, and he looked at his clasped hands. Ethan followed his gaze and saw that Marcel’s hands were shaking, and his palms were covered in small pink blisters that looked like a rash. Marcel slowly raised his head, looking past Ethan in the distance. His eyes lost their glow and seemed to darken, his cheeks were flushed, and his reddened nostrils glistened with mucus. He looked like a sick dog, and Ethan suddenly felt bad for how he treated this man who was obviously much younger than him and didn't know any better. Marcel blinked a couple of times, as if trying to wake himself up. 

"I apologize, doctor! I must have spaced out," he chuckled, and his eyes went back to their familiar caramel color. "Thank you so much for having a look at my little friend here! We shall be going now. I would hate to take up any more of your time."

Marcel got up and smiled at Ethan. His face looked bright again, except for a slight blush on the tip of his nose. Ethan felt as if Marcel's hands twitched as he took the kitten, but Ethan couldn't say for sure. 

"I hope you have a wonderful day, Dr. Nichols!" Marcel sniffled again and exited the room, holding the kitten in one hand and the CleanX in the other.

 

Edited November 29 by peach_princess
formatting

[dwaekki]

Interesting!! I wonder what Marcel is doing with the cats and how this relationship will develop

[Rainbow]

4 hours ago, peach_princess said:

Do you like:

- self-centered flamboyant models who happen to be possessed by demons?
- sad golden retriever men who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?
- watching strong characters break down to their most vulnerable state? (of course they get comforted... later)

Boy do I have a snzfic for you! It's a mix of "enemies to lovers", whump, a sickfic, and lots of rich-people bullshit. Naturally, we will have allergies later on because I cannot overlook my favorite trigger >:3
_________________________________

E+M - Part 1. (in which M is under the weather and determined to ruin E's day)

Tags: whump, sneezing, colds, m+m. Mini-chapters I and II - short character intro. Snz starts in ch. III

 

I. 

Eyes. Staring at him from every direction, surrounding him, burning him with red flames flickering in their pupils. He tries to get up, but his body feels numb. There's a lifeless body of a young man next to him. Scorched clothes expose delicate white skin, fractured like cracked porcelain by deep wounds oozing with liquid gold, overflowing, spilling on the concrete and solidifying on contact. Silver steam is rising from the gold liquid, and the man's skin is getting blistered around it. He wants to help the man, but he can't move. The eyes around him tremble and move closer, trapping him inside their circle. The dead man slowly opens his eyes, and the blinding golden light explodes from underneath his cracked eyelids, incinerating everything in sight with a deafening roar of the flames. 

Ethan jolted awake with a sharp gasp. He was covered in cold sweat, and his heart was pounding in his chest. The fire still roared in his ears, drowning out the shrieking sound of his own voice. Ethan closed his eyes and saw flashes of red and yellow, as if he was still inside the raging flames. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his small bedroom, surrounded by comforting darkness and familiar silhouettes of his furniture.

II.

"Good morning, how are you doing today?" Ethan entered a brightly-lit room and tugged on his teal scrub, straightening the wrinkles. "Hope you didn't have to wait too long.”

"Good morning, Dr. Nichols!"

A young man jumped up from his chair on the other side of the room and waltzed toward Ethan, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, his heels clicking against the floor with a loud staccato. 

"Pleasure to meet you. You can call me Marcel.” He shot Ethan a dazzling smile and extended a hand toward him. Ethan reluctantly accepted the invitation, startled by such a warm welcome to his own examination room. 

"So, how is she doing?" Ethan said, approaching a steel table in the middle of the room with a small calico cat sitting on top of it. He gently stroked the cat's hair, and she purred with delight. The cat looked at Ethan with its amber eyes and meowed in a raspy voice, as if asking what he was doing there.

"She's a good cat," Marcel leaned against the examination table, which slightly moved under his weight, making the cat jerk backwards clumsily, her paws sliding on the sleek surface. 

"I would ask you to not do that, please."

Marcel gave Ethan a surprised look but complied with the request. Ethan scratched the cat behind her ears, noting that her hair was a little brittle, and her small body felt frail as she slumped into his hands. 

"How old is Cat?" he asked, checking the notes left by the nurse. 

Marcel twisted a lock of his long black hair, pondering the question. "About 10 years? Maybe 15?"

"You don't know?"

"Oh, of course not! I just found her."

"You just found her?"

"Well," Marcel chuckled, looking at Ethan through half-closed eyelids, "not right this moment, but I found her on the street, and she followed me, so I took her home. It was 5 years ago, I think?.."

The cat looked like she was very old, likely older than 15 years, and Ethan felt a knot in his stomach as she clumsily pushed her head into his hands, purring. 

"Has she been eating lately? Have you checked her litter box? Does she have her vaccinations?"

"Oh, she's not a trouble at all," Marcel clasped his hands together, intertwining his long fingers, adorned with gold rings. "Do you have cats, Dr. Nichols?"

Ethan looked up from the notes and met Marcel's gaze, full of genuine curiosity. Ethan turned back to the nurse's notes. 

"Err, no. I don't." Ethan hesitated, considering if he should provide an explanation, but Marcel seemed satisfied with the short answer. 

"How has she been doing lately? Any changes in her habits? Food? Litter box?" Ethan repeated. 

"She has stopped eating two days ago, and the housekeeper has been complaining that she'd been making messes. What do you make of it?"

The calico cat let out another raspy meow, looking at Ethan with her big glossy eyes. Ethan felt his chest compress, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He didn't reply to Marcel and proceeded to check the cat's vitals. Her body felt limp, and no matter how hard Ethan tried to look, he couldn't find what he was searching for. Cat was dying of old age. Ethan looked at the chart left by the nurse in hopes of finding contradictions to his prognosis. 

"What was her name, you said?"

"Well, she's umm… cat," Marcel replied, yawning. 

Ethan sighed and petted Cat once again. What he was about to do was never easy, and he dreaded the feeling of helplessness that overcame him every time he had to deliver the news. 

“Marcel, your cat is dying. I'm sorry... There's nothing you could have done, she's had a long life. I... I'm so sorry."

Marcel stared at him, dumbfounded. He stopped playing with his jewelry and blinked slowly, as if he was processing Ethan's words. 

"I see," he finally said in a flat voice. "Thank you, Dr. Nichols. Do I pay at the front desk?"

Now it was Ethan's turn to be stunned. "Do you want to say goodbye to her? There's nothing I can do, but she... she will appreciate you being there in her final moments. We can make it quick, she won't feel pain."

"Oh, no worries at all. Dr. Nichols, thank you so much for taking care of her! It's been a pleasure." Marcel gave him a look that was supposed to indicate sincere gratitude. 

"Are you just going to leave her here?" the words came out louder than Ethan intended, and he exhaled sharply. 

"She is dying, right?" Marcel cocked his head. He was already at the door, holding onto the door handle. His gold jewelry jingled, and his heels clicked rhythmically as he stopped to reply.

Ethan nodded. 

"Have a wonderful day, Dr. Nichols!~"

Ethan could hear Marcel happily greeting Donna, the receptionist at the clinic. His voice was cheerful, and Ethan heard him laugh like he just got a latte on the house and was playfully denying the gift. 

Ethan scooped the cat into his arms and pressed her to his chest, trying to calm his own pounding heart.

III

"Goood morning, Dr. Nichols!~ How are you doing today?"

Ethan was having a good day until he heard a familiar voice. Marcel was sitting in the examination room with his legs crossed and his arms resting on the armrests with a hedonistic grace. He was wearing a black mock-turtleneck with a small heart-shaped opening on his chest, black leather boots with gold spikes, and black leather pants. He was covered in gold hoops and chains from head to toe. His black hair was gathered in a loose high ponytail, and his cheeks were blushed. Marcel brushed the side of his hand under his nose and sniffled, then leaned back into the chair. 

"Good morning," Ethan sighed, feeling his neck muscles tensing up in a painful knot. He thought he was done with this man two days ago. What did he want now? 

"I hope my visit is not too much trouble. I can only imagine how busy your schedule must be." Marcel brought his hand back to his nose and rubbed it vigorously. He noticed Ethan's amused look and continued, "Ah, do you like my outfit? I just returned from a photoshoot with T.A.H.R."

And picked up another cat on your way, Ethan thought.

"How did you know?"

Shit! I didn't mean to say it out loud!

Marcel rubbed his nose again, this time in a vertical motion from the bridge to the tip, which was getting a pink hue similar to his cheeks.

"Are you feeling alright? Should I open the window? There was a puppy before you, if that's bothering you."

"Ah, no worries, it is quite alright. I'm just coming down with a cold," Marcel said nonchalantly, as if he was declining a complimentary mint at a restaurant. 

"Are you sure you should be here right now?" Getting sick was the last thing Ethan needed in his already exhausting week. 

"Of course, Dr. Nichols!" Marcel said with a spark in his eyes. "I insist that you have a look at this little guy. I won't be in your way." He got up and pushed his chair to the other end of the room, then sat down, leaned back, and intertwined his fingers. 

Ethan contemplated ordering the man to wear a mask or go home, but then he noticed a little ball of fluff trying to get off the examination table all by himself. Marcel coughed into his hand, oblivious. Ethan rushed to the table and caught the fluff just in time as the kitten's claws scratched against the metal in a failed attempt to grab the edge. Ethan shot a glance at Marcel who was staring at the ceiling in a daze, his lips, covered in glittery lip gloss, slightly parted. Ethan was about to say something he was going to regret later, when Marcel's eyes snapped shut, and he jolted forward with a loud “Eh-TSCHHoo!!”, barely muffled into the crook of his arm. Marcel shook his head. "Wooo, bless me!"

No manners, Ethan thought to himself. 

"My apologies," Marcel added with a demure smile, looking into Ethan's eyes. He reached up and pulled on his hair tie, letting his long hair spill down in soft waves. He brought the hair tie up to his lips and bit down on it. As Ethan held the small fluff ball in his arms, Marcel proceeded to comb through his hair with his fingers. Gold jewellery shimmered in the dark waterfall cascading down his shoulders.

He was handsome, Ethan thought. And young, must be in his early twenties. A spoiled brat of rich parents toying with animals like they were his property. 

Still holding the hair tie in his teeth, his hands up in the air gripping his hair, Marcel absent-mindedly looked up. His upper lip curled as his nose twitched, and he inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“hh… hih… Ah-TSCHHew! Hh… Ah-tkSCHHew!”

His head snapped down, launching the hair tie onto the floor and spraying tiny glistening droplets all over his black turtleneck and leather pants. Marcel blinked rapidly, not letting go of his hair, then let out a small sigh. He reached down for the hair tie and tucked his hair in a high ponytail, then tugged on the strands to loosen them up. He brought a hand up to his nose and dabbed his nostrils on his index finger.

"Excuse me! Please don't mind me." Marcel exclaimed.

Ethan disregarded his statement and turned his attention to the kitten. He placed the ball of fluff onto the examination table and checked his mobility and physical condition. The kitten was completely healthy, but Ethan didn't trust Marcel to take care of him. 

"Hh… Hup-TSHHhew!.. Excuse me! I, uh... huh... Hh-ahTSCHew!!.. Phew..." Marcel slumped against the back of his chair and pressed the back of his hand against the reddened tip of his nose. He sniffled wetly. 

"Do you need a tissue?" Ethan grabbed a box of CleanX from the counter and held it in his hand. 

"Thank you, Dr. Nichols! How considerate of you!" Marcel's heels clacked on the tiled floor, and he graciously accepted the offer, clasping the entire box in his fingers. Ethan noticed that his nails were painted black. 

Marcel returned to his chair, scooting it closer to Ethan and the kitten. He settled the CleanX on his lap, pulled out a tissue, and blew his nose with a squelching sound. He folded the tissue and delicately dabbed it to his reddened nostrils. Ethan proceeded with his usual monologue: the kitten is healthy, here's his vaccination schedule, you'll need to get him microchipped and registered... 

"Have you taken care of kittens before?" Ethan asked, concluding his speech. 

Marcel put the soaked tissue down and leaned forward toward Ethan. "To be completely honest, no. This is my first time. But when I saw this little baby on my way home, I just knew it. It needed me, and I needed him. You know, Dr. Nichols, I never understood people who gifted pets or treated them like –"

"Kittens require a lot of attention and care, Marcel. Do you have the time necessary to provide it?"

Marcel thought for a second, then his eyes took on a relaxed expression and he smiled. He opened his mouth to reply, but Ethan suddenly realized that he didn't want to hear whatever the man had to say. Not after he left his cat to die and waltzed off without a care in the world. And now he wanted to take care of a kitten?!

"Did you at least name him?"

"I –"

"Why did you take him with you?" Ethan took a step forward and was now towering above Marcel. His voice was calm, but his eyes were glowing with quiet rage.

Marcel didn't reply. His face went blank, and he looked at his clasped hands. Ethan followed his gaze and saw that Marcel’s hands were shaking, and his palms were covered in small pink blisters that looked like a rash. Marcel slowly raised his head, looking past Ethan in the distance. His eyes lost their glow and seemed to darken, his cheeks were flushed, and his reddened nostrils glistened with mucus. He looked like a sick dog, and Ethan suddenly felt bad for how he treated this man who was obviously much younger than him and didn't know any better. Marcel blinked a couple of times, as if trying to wake himself up. 

"I apologize, doctor! I must have spaced out," he chuckled, and his eyes went back to their familiar caramel color. "Thank you so much for having a look at my little friend here! We shall be going now. I would hate to take up any more of your time."

Marcel got up and smiled at Ethan. His face looked bright again, except for a slight blush on the tip of his nose. Ethan felt as if Marcel's hands twitched as he took the kitten, but Ethan couldn't say for sure. 

"I hope you have a wonderful day, Dr. Nichols!" Marcel sniffled again and exited the room, holding the kitten in one hand and the CleanX in the other.

 

That's a thrilling start, I have so many questions 😄

[peach_princess]

Thank you all for the kind words :3  P.S. I realized that I put "whump" tag on the first part when it starts later, but oh well what's done is done.

E+M - Part 2.

Ethan is concerned about Marcel's weird behavior and decides to check up on him, only to find himself trapped in a basement...

Tags: physical pain, whump, sneezing, cold, m+m. Feel free to skip chapter IV and jump to V if you're not feeling like reading lore.

_________________________________

IV

"Marcel LaMarsh (born July 199x) is a fashion model…”

So he's in his late twenties, Ethan thought, taking a sip of chamomile tea from his cup. He's not that much younger than me.

“…He has served as brand ambassador for the clothing brand J-Taylor, the perfume line of Silva (Rome, Italy), and the jewelry collection of Bersace. He is currently an ambassador for T.A.H.R. and La Lueur… Early Life: LaMarsh was born in X, California…”

That’s close to my hometown!

“…Many sources speculated that "LaMarsh" was his pseudonym, but LaMarsh himself denied this in an interview to N-XT Radio in 2010, and confirmed that his name was “LaMarsh” on his birth certificate. His parents were xxxx, a doctor, and xxxx, a social worker. Both parents died when their house in X was set on fire during an attempted burglary when LaMarsh was nine years old. LaMarsh was raised by his aunt and entered the modeling industry at the age of eleven when he won a state competition.”

The Internet was oversaturated with photos of Marcel posing in extravagant and expensive outfits, standing next to celebrities and influencers. Ethan clicked on one picture and choked, knocking the cup and spilling hot tea all over the break room table. "Net worth – $260 million." The man was filthy rich. How did Ethan not hear about him before? Ethan looked back at the screen and suddenly had an idea. He opened the patient chart in a new tab. "1440 Werner Street." Marcel's house was much closer to Ethan's veterinary clinic than he could have thought, which was a little surprising. The screen of his laptop lit up again – no wonder,  there was Marcel's face photoshopped next to an absurdly expensive mansion in an article promising a tour of the model's residence located on the other end of the state. What was Marcel doing here of all places? Ethan grabbed a roll of paper towels and started wiping the break room table. He hoped that Marcel would take good care of the kitten. He hoped that the man was just too caught up staring at himself in the mirror to think straight, but that he wasn't a sick maniac who derived pleasure from torturing animals. "Sick". Marcel was also sick. Ethan felt a familiar tension in his stomach, like he had to do something, run, flee before it was too late, but he didn't know what it was. The way Marcel abruptly ended the conversation and left the examination room, the way his hands twitched when he grabbed the kitten, his hollow eyes when he looked at Ethan, through Ethan... A dark thought crawled into Ethan’s mind. He tried to shoo it away, but it kept ringing in his head. What if... It can't be... Marcel could be all alone right now, left to fight his demons all on his own. What if he loses the fight… He did say that he had a housekeeper. But how often does said housekeeper come in? 

I’ll call the police, Ethan thought. And what are they gonna do? Take him away and throw him in an institution?.. Maybe a neighbor could check up on him? But how do I contact his neighbors and explain that I think Marcel is not well because what – because he looked “sad” in my office? Am I out of my mind?! Nobody will believe me.

"Fuck!" Ethan slammed the open palm of his hand against the table. His thoughts moved a mile per second trying to rationalize what he was about to do. He would just check on Marcel because he was worried about his mental health, and instead of reporting it, he... didn't think of it at the time. Right. He is just trying to do the right thing. As he goes around disturbing people's peace, Ethan replied to himself.

"Donna, I will be out for the next hour or two. I don't believe I have any appointments until two, do I?"

"Umm... You did have Carter at one o'clock, but he cancelled. You will be back at two, right?"

"Yup," Ethan replied, fumbling with his pockets to get his car key. "I'll see you soon."

V. 

1440 Werner Street.

Ethan found himself standing at the door of a large grey house, surrounded by exotic flowers and lush trees. He knocked, feeling a bead of sweat growing on his upper lip. No reply. He knocked again, with a little more force, and the door suddenly gave in, exposing the dimly lit interior of the house. That wasn't good.

Ethan cleared his throat, about to announce his presence, but hesitated. He stepped inside the house, feeling dizzy from the hot air that immediately enveloped him. The rooms didn't seem lived in, judging by a thick coating of dust on the furniture.

"Marcel!.. Marcel?.. Mr. LaMarsh?"

No reply. Ethan wiped his face on his sleeve that immediately got soaked in sweat. Ethan kept calling when he heard a muffled moan coming from the end of the hallway. The sound stopped, and then it was quiet again. Ethan followed the direction where the sound came from, which led him to a set of stairs going into the basement. He called again and heard another sound, this time a high-pitched animalistic cry.

The sound repeated, louder and more desperate. Ethan took a step away from the stairs and quietly took out his phone, ready to make a call. He had no weapons, and whatever he was hearing was far beyond his abilities. He was ready to turn around when he heard another cry from the basement. 

"NOoOOooaUGHHH!!!"

That was definitely Marcel. Ethan's heart sank. He rushed into the kitchen, yanked on a drawer with shaking hands, and plunged his hand into a sea of old silver cutlery, fishing out a butcher's knife. He looked at the phone in his hand, ready to call the police. Instead, he rushed to the basement. The screaming that was almost impossible to hear on the main floor was getting louder as Ethan was descending the stairs. A knife in one hand and his phone in the other, he emerged in a surprisingly large room devoid of furniture. He saw a small dark figure laying on the floor in the far corner and felt dizzy as he took a step toward it. The figure was writhing, whining, and howling like a wounded animal. The air was much hotter than on the top floor, and Ethan felt like he was about to collapse from a heat stroke. His vision was getting blurry, and he heard his own name being called. Ethan grabbed his head, convinced it was his imagination, but the voice came again, crying:

"Eth... Ethan!.."

He slapped himself awake and stumbled toward the figure in the corner. Marcel's clothes were scorched, and his pale skin was red and covered in raw, burnt patches. His body was shaking, and his face was twisted in a pained expression. A vision from a recurring nightmare flashed before Ethan, and his heart skipped a beat. Marcel's head suddenly snapped to the side, and his eyes sprang open. He let out a low animalistic growl, exposing his sharp fangs and bleeding gums. Ethan stumbled back and fell onto the scorching hot concrete floor, feeling a bolt of pain pierce his skin. He jerked his hand up to see a splotch of steaming yellow liquid drying on his palm. Molten gold. He looked at Marcel in horror. Marcel's eyes were glowing, and he lunged at Ethan, snapping his teeth in an attempt to bite him. Ethan lurched back, but was grabbed by Marcel's red, seared hand, covered in black cracks sealed with gold. The hand had human nails painted black, and its scratched knuckles were bleeding.

"GET OUT!!!" Marcel roared in a deep, booming voice, but his hand kept clasping Ethan's clothing. 

Ethan struggled to escape, hearing the seams of his scrubs snapping. Marcel howled again and, to Ethan's horror, the liquid gold – that he now noticed was poured all over Marcel's body – started bubbling as the hot steam mixed with the smell of burnt flesh swirled toward the ceiling. Ethan shrieked and tore Marcel's hand off his scrubs. Then everything went black.

VI. 

Thrrrr-thud. Thrrrr-thud. Ethan woke up as he was being dragged on the rough concrete floor. Thhrr-thud. He looked up and met Marcel's caramel eyes, which widened in response. Marcel dropped him, and Ethan's head hit the floor. 

Ethan whined from the pain and scrambled to get up, feeling lightheaded. He noticed that his limbs were not tied. He stared at Marcel, recollecting the events that happened before he passed out. He was having a bad dream... Except it wasn't a dream. His eyes darted to Marcel's skin, but it looked perfectly healthy, albeit covered in soot. The blisters and bloody wounds seemed to have disappeared like they were never there. Marcel sniffled and stared at Ethan, dumbfounded. Ethan looked around helplessly, searching for his knife and phone, but couldn't find them anywhere.

"What are you..." Ethan muttered, taking a step back. 

"Y-you are not dead," Marcel breathed, staring at Ethan like he just saw a ghost. 

Ethan's eyes searched around the basement, not finding anything that could be used for self-defence. 

"What did you do to me?!" Ethan yelled. 

"Okay, oooh-kay, can we do without that, please?" Marcel said in his usual voice, creeping toward Ethan. "Look, there is... was a fire. And I found you. And I was trying to help."

"What. The fuck. Are you doing?!”

"Look, I really don't want to do this,” Marcel continued, approaching him. “I like you, Ethan, I really..." Marcel paused. Time slowed down as Ethan realized he was living his last moments. Marcel slowly raised his hand and squinted his eyes. The next thing Ethan knew was Marcel's body snapping in half as he sneezed harshly into his hand:

"Huh… He-DZSCHuh! Eh… heh.. Heh-GD’SZCHHuh!! Ah, fu– huh! Ah-G’dTSCHHew!! Heg-TSCHHew-hh!!.. Oh, fuck!.." Marcel let out a soft cry and covered the lower part of his face with his hand. His long black hair fell down and was framing his face in an unflattering way. Marcel wiped his nose on his hand and dragged it along his torn leather pants, – Ethan just now realized that Marcel was half-naked – leaving a trail of clear mucus.

The situation would be almost comedic if he wasn't trying to kill me, Ethan thought. He stood there, watching as Marcel covered his face and coughed into his elbow, nearly choking in the process. 

"Are you alright?" Ethan asked. 

Marcel looked at him through black strings of hair hanging lifelessly in front of his face, not taking his arm away from his mouth, and sneezed again, wetly: "Huh-eh'SCHHhoo!!"

"What are you going to do?" Ethan asked calmly, feeling like he could take advantage of the situation. 

"I thought you were – hiih!.. alre– hh.. Heeh-SCHHhhew!.. Already dead!" Marcel whined, making Ethan almost feel bad for being so annoyingly alive. 

"You did try to kill me."

"I–hh!.. I–..." Marcel paused with his hands thrown in the air helplessly, his breath hitching uncontrollably. Ethan lunged at him and grabbed his wrists, pulling them up above his head.

"Aaah-AH-D’TSCHHeww!! Hih... Eh..." Marcel's head jolted forward with the force of another wet sneeze, spraying Ethan's face and chest.

"S-sorry..." Marcel muttered, scrunching his nose as if fighting an unrelenting itch. 

"Do you have rope?" Ethan asked, trying to sound calm. He couldn't believe he was able to take control of the man who nearly murdered him. 

"Y– hh!.. yeah..." Marcel sniffled with a thick gurgling sound, and Ethan saw streaks of snot running onto the man's lip. 

"Show me."

Marcel stumbled forward, his breath hitching and his eyes half-closed. He took another step and almost tripped, snapping forward in the waist with another sneezing fit as Ethan swiftly positioned himself to Marcel's side, away from the splash zone. 

"Huh… Hh... Heeh-DSCHHHew! Heh-GDZSH! Heh-GD’SZCHhoo!!... Fuck!"

Snot was dripping from Marcel's chin, and his hands felt limp in Ethan's firm grasp. Feeling a mix of disgust and pity for his unsuccessful assailant, Ethan carefully freed one hand, grabbing both of the man's wrists with the other – noting how thin they were – and pulled a clean rag from the pocket of his scrubs. He brought the rag to Marcel's face and wiped the snot and sweat off like he was doing it to a puppy. Marcel obediently pushed his face into the rag and sighed when Ethan was done. 

"The rope," Ethan reminded. 

Marcel sniffled and coughed, nodding. His face was burning up from a fever, and he looked like he was about to faint. He brought Ethan to the rope, sneezing every couple of minutes, and let his hands be tied behind his back. Ethan let go of him, and Marcel slumped onto the concrete floor, shivering. 

"I–... You were... not supposed to be here." Marcel finally managed. 

"Phone. Where is my phone?" Ethan demanded. 

Marcel nodded at the splattered gold in the corner, surrounded by burn marks.

"Are you..." Marcel tried to speak but was interrupted by a coughing fit. "Are you going to call the police?"

"Yes, and the EMT," Ethan said, not looking at Marcel. 

"Noooo... They can't know..." Marcel cried. 

Ethan felt his hand tingling as his smartphone suddenly got warmer. In a moment, the phone was so hot, Ethan could barely hold it. He managed to press the call button before he chucked it onto the floor, clasping his scorched hand. The phone slid into the corner, where it burst into flames. 

"I'm sorry, Ethan... You caaan't do that." Tears were streaming down Marcel’s face, mixing with snot. 

"Did you... Can you..." Ethan was afraid to ask. If Marcel could light things on fire the entire time, why didn't he burn the ropes? More importantly, how is he, Ethan, still alive and not incinerated? 

"I–... I can explain..." Marcel cried again. His chest jerked up, and he was interrupted by another coughing fit that looked painful. 

Ethan carefully approached the man and lifted his chin with two fingers, looking straight into his eyes. 

"What are you? What do you want from me?" Ethan hissed. 

"Help me... You helped the cats..." Marcel whimpered. 

That you killed, Ethan thought, overcome by a sudden desire to slap this pyromaniac's face so hard that his fucking head would slam into the wall. 

"You can. And I– I didn't. I let the– hh... them go. Hh… Hup-TSCHhew!.. Hh-DTSCHew!!.. snf… snrf… They were never mine, I just found them on the street." Marcel sniffled twice, trying to stop his nose from running, unsuccessfully. 

Ethan felt shivers crawling under his skin as he realized that he didn't need to open his mouth the entire time. 

"Can you... Stop that?" Ethan asked. 

"Wha?.. Ah.. Oh... I'm sorry, I don't really control it... I– can try."

"What did you do w..."

"I didn't!" Marcel tried to yell, but it came out as a raspy gurgle. He coughed again, clearing his throat. "I didn't. They looked sick, so I brought them to you. I thought, if somebody could help them, maybe..." 

"Maybe what?"

"I don't... know…" Marcel’s voice trailed off. His eyes fluttered closed, and his body swayed to the side before dropping to the ground. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

"I'll call an ambulance," Ethan said. He heard a fizzling sound coming from the floor, and the next thing he knew was Marcel's hand latched onto his forearm. 

"Please. Don't. Call." Marcel managed to say. "I don't... want to... Don't... make me... kill..." His hand loosened its grip, and his body went limp. 

Ethan's ears were ringing. He sat next to Marcel and looked at his body for a moment. He checked Marcel's pulse, counting to himself, then breathed a sigh of relief and sat motionless.

[VioletGarden]

Ok. At first i was just really intrigued and curious but now i need more please omg

[Mrs.Primrose]

I love the drawings you’ve made along with the story. You’re a multi-genre artist!

[Rainbow]

Oh wow I am excited! There is so much plot which makes me curious, I am looking forward to see what happens next! You described the sneezes and desperation from Marcel perfectly! 😍 I would like to find out more about the characters. And I love the drawing you put at the end.

Thank you for sharing this story and the drawing with us! 😊