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silentsneezes · 2 days ago

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Sick J/ayce Professor AU Part Two

did i stay up until 4 AM to write this last night? yes. is it edited or incredibly well written? no.

but i wanted to post it since it's been a couple of weeks since writing part one, so without further ado here's 1.9k of j/ayce being absolutely miserable

CW for descriptions of mess. they're not super graphic, but it's definitely prevelant

Jayce decidedly makes his way towards Viktor’s office. After all, it’s become a routine, and he knows Viktor will begin to worry if he doesn’t show up. In his feverish daze, he doesn’t register the biting cold outside, but the breeze cuts through his jacket like it’s nothing more than a flimsy scrap of fabric. It’s beginning to snow, the first flakes drifting lazily through the crisp winter air. It’s beautiful, really, but Jayce remains oblivious to nature’s performance.

He’s too occupied with the task at hand: getting to Viktor’s office. His lungs ache with every breath, his hands moving to clutch his jacket tighter around his frame. Only a few minutes into his walk across campus, Jayce feels a trail of mess slip over his upper lip. He swipes his wrist across the base of his nose, cringing at how sore the reddened appendage has become.

Sore and terribly itchy. The pressure to his septum was just enough to ignite a buzzing through the bridge of his nose. With a huff of annoyance, Jayce moves to cup a hand over his nose, his breath hitching as he walks along the haphazardly icey pathway. After a few seconds, he stops in his tracks, barely hearing the grumbled annoyance of the students that almost collide with his back.

His breath is hitching in desperate, chest rattling breaths, every gasp more vocal than the last. He stumbles to move out of the pathway, keeping one hand steepled over his nose as he doubles over with a throat grating, “hHHH’RRSZXZCHh’HUew!”

Jayce only manages to take a single breath before a second sneeze follows, nearly toppling him over, “hhHd’egh…hh–hHDD’HZSSCHHuhw!” His vision blurs temporarily with the force of the second expulsion, but he somehow, miraculously, manages to stay standing. His palm is coated with mess, two strings of snot clinging from the base of his nose to his hand.

With a groan, Jayce straightens back up, pinching the strings of mess from his nose and flicking them to the side. He looks around, grateful that no one seems to have noticed the whole ordeal.

Jayce stands still for a moment, feeling the weight of his exhaustion sink deeper into his bones. The cold has left his body shaking, but it’s the fever that makes his limbs feel so incredibly heavy. He rubs his nose again, trying to wipe away the mess continuing to stream over his upper lip. He has little success, of course, the recent double having done nothing to stop the constant dripping of his nose.

As Jayce continues down the path, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of a nearby window, but it only makes him grimace. He’s a mess— his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed from the fever, his nose red and raw. God he looks terrible.

Jayce forces himself to continue walking, stumbling along the icy path as his feet drag below him. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of being able to melt into the plush armchair in Viktor’s office, the one he’d bought purely for Jayce’s use.

The rest of the walk passes in a bleary haze, and before Jayce entirely registers it, he’s walking down the hall towards Viktor’s office. He vaguely registers the warmth of the hall, his numbed hands finally regaining some feeling. Just a few minutes left, he reassures himself.

Just as he turns a corner, though, his vision falters again, and a sudden shiver runs down his spine. His body stumbles forward, and instinctively, his hand shoots out to catch himself against the wall. The impact knocks the breath out of him, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

Jayce had forgotten what it felt like to be truly, utterly sick. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have ignored his symptoms the past few days, but stubborn as he is, he tried pushing through it. And now he’s paying the price; this supposedly “little” cold is hitting him like a fucking truck.

"God…" he mutters, wiping a hand across his face– when had he started sweating? He shivers, his body shuddering despite the sudden feeling of a heat flash. His fingers brush his sore nose once more, and with another glance down the hallway, he starts moving again. He just needs to get to Viktor.

The door to Viktor’s office is in sight now, and Jayce feels a sense of relief wash over him. But with that relief comes another wave of dizziness. He stumbles forward again, but this time, he’s able to catch himself on the doorframe. The door creaks open slightly under his weight, and he’s met with a casually uttered, “Jayce? You’re early.”

Viktor doesn’t initially look up from his work, document in hand and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. When he doesn’t receive a reply, however, his attention is immediately turned to his partner.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, only needing a single glance at Jayce to know he’s miserably sick, “Come in, sit.”

Jayce does as instructed, his body moving as if it’s on autopilot and collapsing ungracefully into the plush armchair across from Viktor’s desk. With a swift motion, Viktor grabs his cane and crosses the room, standing over Jayce and placing a hand on his forehead.

“You have a fever,” Viktor tuts, moving to hold Jayce’s chin and tilting it upwards so Jayce is forced to meet his gaze.

Jayce looks up with glassy, hazy eyes, instinctively nuzzling his cheek against Viktor’s palm. Viktor can’t help but smile at the gentle affection, moving to brush his thumb over Jayce’s cheek.

“I thingk–” Jayce starts, but he’s forced to pause and clear his throat with a phlegmy cough, “I mighd be coming down with somethi’g.”

“You think?” Viktor repeats with a slight grin, shifting his stance to apply more weight to his right leg– the cold rarely bodes well with his bum leg, often worsening its instability and pain. Even in his feverish delirium, Jayce notices the movement, reaching out and placing a hand on Viktor’s hip wordlessly. He knows not to ask, not to push Viktor to talk about his pain unless he wants to.

“You are going to be the death of me,” Viktor murmurs fondly, “have you taken anything?”

“C’mbon V, id’s nod thad bad,” Jayce attempts to argue, ignoring Viktor’s question as to medication. Truthfully, he’d meant to take something this morning, just like how he’d meant to bring tissues to his lecture. Between his unbridled ADHD and his fever, it’s honestly a wonder he’s functioning at all– that is, if you can consider this to be functioning.

Viktor takes out his handkerchief, handing it out to his partner, “Blow your nose,” he instructs simply, but there’s a fondness to his voice– the kind reserved solely for Jayce; Viktor isn’t necessarily a natural caretaker, but Jayce is the exception. As frustrating as his partner can be, and trust that Jayce can be beyond infuriating at times, Viktor knows him through and through.

Jayce blushes, torn between denying the handkerchief and running the risk of his nose running incessantly or accepting the handkerchief and admitting how sick he is. Reluctantly, he accepts the handkerchief with a soft, “thangk you,” and turns away from Viktor as best he can. He barely manages to blow his nose, the action resulting in more of a congested snort than anything productive.

Before Jayce can try again, there’s a soft rapping at the door, accompanied by Mel’s voice, “Professor Viktor?”

Viktor looks up in slight surprise, having entirely forgotten about his meeting with Mel upon seeing Jayce’s sick state. Initially, he had planned for Jayce to arrive after his lecture, but since he’d arrived unexpectedly early, their schedules were clashing.

“Oh, Professor Talis,” Mel says in slight surprise as she enters, not having expected Jayce to be there too. Her eyes linger momentarily on the handkerchief held in his hand before flicking up to his reddened nose with a sympathetic expression.

Jayce offers her a tired smile and a brief wave. Usually he’d start a conversation; after all, he’s rather fond of Mel. They’ve grown close over the past few years of working as colleagues, and he considers her a friend. Luckily, Mel doesn’t take offense to his lack of conversation, instead turning to Viktor and asking, “Is this an okay time–”

Jayce interrupts Mel with a sudden, vocal hitch, “hhHH-” as a sudden itch buzzes through the back of his sinuses, pushing up to the tip of his nose. Despite his initial reservations about accepting Viktor’s handkerchief, he feels a rush of gratitude towards his partner for lending him the cloth. He steeples it over his nose just in time, pressing it against the lower part of his face in an attempt to muffle the encroaching sneeze.

“hhH’MPDDSXXHCHh’uh!”

“Gezhundiet,” Mel blesses with a look of surprise at the sheer force of the sneeze, “are you-,” she begins to ask, but she stops as Viktor shakes his head.

“He’s not done,” Viktor says simply, saving Mel from being interrupted again.

Sure enough, Jayce is once again clutching the handkerchief to his face, turning his back towards his fellow professors as his breath hitches.

It’s a painful watch, his breath catching every few seconds only to build into a desperate false start. After a few particularly vocal hitches, Jayce finally snaps forwards with a throat grating sneeze, “hhHRRRSZZXCGhh’hhugh!”

The expulsion is strong enough to force his knee to jerk upwards, causing the armchair to creak in protest.

“Bless you darling,” Viktor murmurs, frowning as Jayce’s shoulders remain slumped, the handkerchief held tightly around his nose. It’s evident that the kerchief is covering a mess of spray as Jayce snuffles, blushing crimson.

Viktor turns to Mel, offering her an apologetic smile, “My apologies Professor Merdada, but now is not the best time. Can I suggest that we reschedule?”

Mel smiles sympathetically, “Of course,” she heads towards the door without second thought, knowing Viktor’s priority is taking care of his partner, “and Professor Talis?”

Jayce looks up, hidden sheepishly behind the handkerchief.

“You should take the day off tomorrow. I’ll see to it that your students are informed,” she says curtly before leaving, giving him no opportunity to deny her– not that he would’ve, even he recognizes that he wouldn’t make it through working tomorrow.

Viktor gives Mel a thankful glance as she exits, knowing she saved him the trouble of convincing Jayce to take a day off. After all, it’s usually no easy feat convincing Jayce to partake in any sort of self care when he’s sick– and yet he criticizes Viktor for doing the same when he catches cold.

As soon as Mel’s gone, Jayce gives his nose a productive blow, finally having the privacy to mop up the aftermath of the double. Viktor waits patiently until Jayce lowers the handkerchief, his nose looking even sorer than before.

“We should go home,” Viktor prompts, his voice soft. He reaches up and brushes his thumb across Jayce’s cheek, “you have quite the fever.”

Jayce nods dumbly, feeling like dead weight. He’s too tired to argue, and admittedly, all he wants to do is go home and have Viktor dote over him.

“How is it you managed to go all day without telling me how terrible you felt?” Viktor chastises lightly as he begins packing up his things, “and you say I’m stubborn.”

that's all for now... eventually i'll (probably) write a part three, but with how little free time i have it will take a while. as always, any comments, tags, and reblogs are very much appreciated !!

#sneeze kink #sneezefucker #snzblr #sneeze blog #sneezefic #sneeze thoughts #snzcane #snz kink #snzfics #silent writes sneeze

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