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osamusriceballs · 10 months ago

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The Accident - Part XVIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW!!

Words: ~ 4,9 k

About: Finally! Pure smut, barely plot. Can be skipped if you're uncomfortable with that. The longest part so far xD

Part I II -> Final Part

Your relationship with Atsumu has been thriving.

You came to appreciate that he is actually a very reliable and vivid texter and how you both regularly went on dates- something that he insisted on, and you definitely couldn't complain about that. You know that he has a tight schedule, but that apparently doesn't stop him from inviting you over every single weekend, without exceptions, always making sure that Saturday night belongs to the two of you. Often, you would go to Onigiri Miya's to eat, much to Osamu's delight. He always insists that you don't have to pay, yet you still often place a crumpled 10 bucks note in the tip jar to keep the guilt at bay.

You both have developed a routine of eating out together and then watching a movie at Atsumu's place. He's told you a lot about his work, sometimes complaining about other players, but he seems really confident in his skills, with the start of the Olympics getting closer and closer every single day, which he is anticipating quite a lot.

You'd tell him about your work too, tell him about the things that you like, that you enjoy to read, confessing with reddened cheeks that you sometimes read rather unconventional stories, to which his smug grin had intensified, and he seemed very interested in getting details of that, which you denied at first, but then promised him to send him recommendations. You had also told him how Yachi and you met and how you got to know Hinata and Kageyama. You came to enjoy this caring side of Atsumu, and it feels rather domestic to spend time with him like this, just the two of you talking and having fun.

And more often you'd find yourself in Atsumu's lap after talking for hours, heavily making out with him until you both gasp for air- just like today.

You barely pay any attention to the movie, the sounds only faintly in the background, some action movie that Atsumu found with a good rating and insisted you both watch—and instead, it didn't even take him ten minutes to scoot a bit closer and to gently turn your face towards him to kiss you, deepening the kiss quickly and then pressing your back against the couch. He's now hovering over you, your legs wrapped around his middle and your hands deeply entangled in his hair. You came to notice that he loves when you play with his hair, sometimes even resting his head in your lap just to have you give him a head massage, so you don't hesitate to feel the soft strands in your fingers and scratch his scalp softly.

He groans against your lips when you slightly pull on the strands, and a breathy moan escapes your lips when he grinds his hips against yours. He's hard already. Very much so. You feel his cock pressing against you, just the fabric of his sweats and your panties separating your bodies from each other. Your skirt rode up when Atsumu had forced your legs open to settle in between them, but you don't mind laying under him like this. The tension between you is thick, and you're glad that you're wearing a nice matching set of underwear tonight, even though you're convinced that he couldn't care less about your choice of clothes.

"Gosh, yer driving me crazy." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and you swear you could combust at the sight of pure unrestricted lust in his eyes. This is usually what you'd do: make out until you both couldn't take anymore and then fall asleep together while cuddling, without going further. He made it pretty clear that he wants to take this slow and earn your forgiveness for the situation, and while you appreciate his efforts, you'd also appreciate him doing just a bit more with you. "Tsumu—can we... you know... go a bit further?" You ask with bright cheeks, hoping that he's also willing to take that step with you, and he raises a brow in a teasing way, and you almost push him back when you see his sexy smug grin. "Oh? Wifey wants more, huh?" He dips his head, and his lips find your neck, kissing down to your pulse, causing you to release a soft breath while you arch against him, his cock now hardly pressing between your legs. "I would be a bad husband if I deny your wishes."

His kisses get just a bit rougher, his teeth grazing against your skin, and you arch into him when he bites down slightly. "Atsumu—" you try to even out your breath, but you can't seem to calm down when he nibbles on your skin, the feeling almost painfully intimate when he cages you underneath him like this. "We can go a bit further, if ya want to. I could go right here." He shifts his weight and angles his face a bit deeper to press a kiss against your collarbones, leaving a tingling sensation on your skin when he pulls back. "Or right here." His fingers pull down the side of your shirt until you expose even more cleavage to press a sensual kiss at the swell of your breasts. You feel heat rushing through your body, and you softly moan at the action- he's driving you insane.

"How far do you want me to go?" He looks up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question while he looks at you. His face is close, so close, you can see his flushed cheeks and widened pupils, and you're certain that you could explode any second when he looks at you like this. "All the way. If you're okay with that?"

You barely manage to finish the sentence before he already starts moving to press your back harder into the couch until you lay flat. A soft gasp leaves your lips, and your eyes widen when he thrusts his hips against yours in the process, the friction so good and welcoming against your sensitive spots. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, and he gently pulls it up until your bra is exposed to his eyes. An almost dangerous glint is in his eyes when his thumbs hook in the cups of your bra and simply pull them down until they rest under your tits and force them to stand up. Your chest heaves heavily, your nipples perky, not only because of the chilly air but definitely because of his undivided attention.

He suddenly brings his thumbs to his lips, one after the other, quickly licking the digits, before his hands cup your tits, his wet thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples, a sensation that has you release a small whimper. His hands start to softly massage your breasts, and you thank all deities for his setter hands, so big and warm and skilled, feeling so good against your bare skin. Your own fingers grab into the cushion below you while you try not to squirm too much—not that you could escape from him now when he's basically straddling you and keeps on playing with your tits.

It feels good—really good, the tingling sensation between your legs growing stronger with each passing second, and you start to wiggle underneath him, your body aching for more of his touch. Atsumu notices the shift in your demeanor and softly pinches your nipples one last time before he moves a bit down, his hands caressing your bare sides while he does so. The way he's treating you makes you almost whine out loud, so soft and tenderly, it's making your head spin. "I love how your skin feels. So soft and warm." He mumbles, his eyes scanning your whole body before he suddenly gets up, just enough to not sit on you anymore. Instead, he kneels between your legs, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart a bit further to have a good look at your panties. "A matching set?" he asks when his eyes wander back to the bra that still pushes your tits up. "Yes," you nod a bit breathless and flustered, and the way he's taking things so slow makes you feel even more needy for him, while he seems so calm and cool. Probably his year-long experience of keeping his cool every single day when he's playing.

"I like it. But I think these need to go." He nods towards your panties, the sheer material not hiding much actually, but the clear wet stain on them makes the situation even more scandalous. You nod with reddened cheeks, and he places two fingers against the wet stain, caressing and softly rubbing against the spot, while keeping his eyes on your face. "Though, I'm really glad to see that yer enjoyin' this as much as I do." His finger softly presses inside of you, just a little bit with your panties still between you, a shock of electricity rushing though your body when the fabric stretches against your clit, and his finger enters just the tiniest bit inside of you. He stills for a second, watching your reaction for a second, before he brings his other hand to the fabric, hesitating, before he clears his throat before he meets your gaze. "Can I rip 'em?"

You stare at him with wide eyes, unable to form words, understanding that this is something that he wants to do even though he seems slightly embarrassed by it. You're so turned on by the question though that you simply nod, and he brings both of his hands to the fabric and pulls. It takes him two more attempts before the fabric softly rips, his attempt to be gentle and careful to you very clear, and the simple display of his suppressed strength has your pussy clenching around nothing. He scoots slightly back, his eyes focused on your cunt, drinking in the sight of you, while you tremble in anticipation. This is even better than all the fantasies you've had about him so far, all the dirty thoughts about his arms and thighs that made you stick your hands into your panties when you're in need of release. All of that can't compare to what you're feeling right now.

"I'll eat ya out first 'kay? Get ya nice and ready for me." You open your mouth, ready to protest that you're already wet for him and you don't need further prep, and that you just want him to fuck you, but your protest gets stuck in your throat when he settles on his stomach, his arms grabbing your legs and hoisting the above his shoulders. He is on eye-level with your pussy and you suddenly feel so exposed, yet still so safe with him.

"So pretty," he mumbles, and you're not sure if that was even meant for you to hear, and you let out a gasp and a soft choke of his name when he softly licks against your folds. Softly, just testing the waters- and judging by your reaction, his is convinced that he can do more to you. His tongue licks against your folds again, harder this time, putting more pressure on you and you mewl contently. "Just like that, pretty girl. Let me do my thing and enjoy yourself. Part of my husband duties, to keep my wife satisfied."

He kisses against your entrance, resting his lips on yours and letting his tongue peak out just the tiniest to get you a feeling of it, and you clench involuntarily at the feeling of his warm tongue. He licks against your folds again, this time pausing when he reaches your clit, softly closing his lips around it and sucking. "Atsumu-" you gasp with wide eyes, your legs almost caging his head when he sucks a bit rougher. "Shhhhhsh," he hushes you and sucks just a tad bit softer, one of his hands letting go of your leg and moving between your legs too. Your breathing pattern is irregular and you moan when you feel a wave of need rush through your body.

One of his fingers prods against your entrance while he keeps his lips enclosed on your clit and you feel like you're going to explode. It's hot- so, so hot when he softly pushes a digit inside you, his tongue messily licking your clit until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed- you can imagine how lewd you look right now. Flushed cheeks, crossed eyes, your tits exposed while you arch your back like you're in heat with Atsumu's head between your legs, licking your cunt while he fingers you open.

It's hot, oh, so hot. The way he's pumping his finger inside of you, slowly adding another one when he feels you easing up for him. The way he's licking up all of your arousal, groaning against you and humping the bed for a bit of friction for himself while he gives you pleasure. The way he's watching you heavy lidded, probably unable to see much of your face, but the occasional glances of your expression are enough for him. He's addicted to your taste, addicted to the way you moan his name, softly at the beginning, but now with more urgency and need, getting louder for him when he increases the pace of his fingers. You didn't know what to do with your hands at first, but now you're gripping his hair and pushing him ever so softly against your pussy, unable to resist the need to get more friction, and he so willingly gives you more. The wet sounds of his fingers pushing into you and the way he's messily eating you out makes you feel like you're in heaven. He could do this for hours, worship your taste and listen to your sweet sounds, but he can feel you clenching repeatedly around his fingers, indicating just how close you are.

"Tsumu- I can't- gonna-" you barely manage to form words, moans and deep breaths hindering you from saying what you want to say, but he simply keeps going at the same pace and you suddenly feel your high overwhelming you.

It's too much. The heat, his face between your legs, the way he's fingering you, the way his tongue is teasing your clit and giving you just the right amount of attention- it takes you like a wave and you feel your muscles tensing and arching against his face while you come. Your mouth is wide open a lewd sounds leave your lips while you feel the delicious sensation rushing through your body. Atsumu doesn't change his position, nor his pace, he simple keeps his ministrations up and licks up your juices until you only whimper softly and your hand falls weakly onto the couch. He kisses your cunt, gentle and caring while he pulls his fingers out, his lips ever so soft while he whispers a praise against your folds, and you feel how you blush at the sudden unexpected sweetness.

Your body finally relaxes and you fall back into the cushions. He slows down his ministrations and looks at his hand with a grin, your slick on them evident. You focus your eyes on him and follow all of his movements when he shortly licks his fingers with a groan before he grabs his shirt, his fingers leaving a mess on the dark fabric before he pulls it over his head and throws it away. You silently ogle him, taking in the sight of him, broad chest heaving heavily, strongly defined shoulders and arms, and the slightest bit of dark hair trailing down to the band of sweatpants. "Ya alright? Wanna go further?" His voice is a bit raspy and his cheeks slightly reddened and it makes your heart beat faster. His hands find your sides and softly caress the skin while he waits for your answer. He's still hard, you can see it through the fabric of his pants, but you're convinced that he would not push you to go further, no matter how painful it is for him. You look at him softly and nod, a small smile on your face when you reach out to him. "Kiss me, please?"

He nods with an approving hum and leans down to kiss you, his weight now settling on your body in a comforting way. Your hands reach for his hair when he kisses you, your body arching up against his when his lips meet yours in a gentle but firm kiss. You allow your hands to wander and to explore his naked body while you return the kiss, your tongue moving against his while you rake your nails softly against his bare back. You can feel a shudder running down his spine and you repeat the motion, only to be rewarded with a little groan against your lips. You let one of your hands roam to his stomach, feeling the muscles clench under your fingers, and hesitantly move further down to the trail of soft hair, waiting for him to either stop you or to encourage you.

Atsumu is quick to raise his hips to allow you to have your way, his hips raising just enough to allow your to move your hand between your bodies. The soft hair on his abdomen tickles the palm of your hand and you let your fingers roam to the hem of his pants, until you feel the bulge. He inhales sharply when you palm him through his pants, his muscles clenching hardly when he finally gets some friction. You softly move your hand, feeling his length, the hardness of him, his balls, heavy and full. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a second, before he opens them abruptly and leans down to kiss you. His lips are glued to yours, deepening the kiss while he angles his face to push his tongue just a bit rougher against yours. You finally move your hand inside his pants, fingers hesitating for a second at the hem, but then you slide them under the fabric and reach for his cock.

He is big. Big and warm, wet with precum already, and you trace the shape with one of your fingers while your other hand holds his shoulders for support.

You explore his cock, getting a feel of him, how long he is, how he feels against your skin- and you love every single second of it. You softly close your hand around his shaft and start stroking, being rewarded with an airy gasp against your lips. You start jerking him of, moving your hand in a steady rhythm, while making sure that you don't push him too far. "So good," he rasps against your lips and you moan in response, feeling a wave of adrenaline rushing through your body. Your free hand moves to his ass, boldly pulling the fabric down, and clumsily you release his cock after you managed to pull his pants down just enough to have his cock spring free and to poke between your legs.

You only now realize that he is indeed bigger than you thought- just having him pressing himself against your body makes your eyes open widely. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, observing al of your reactions while he waits for you to make a move, effectively showing you that you're in charge. He just hovers above you and looks at you expectantly.

As if you could stop now. Your body is screaming for him, aching for him and you simply spread your legs further and gently grab his cock, lining him up at your entrance without any more words.

His eyes widen, clearly surprised by you taking the initiative this fast, but he nods and seems to brace himself for what you're about to do. You collect some of your slick with the mushroom head of his cock, making sure he is well-lubricated before you line him up once again. Atsumu suddenly takes in a sharp breath and pushes his hips back, just out of reach for you now- much to your confusion. Did you read the signs wrong? What if he doesn't want to-

"Do ya want me to use a condom? I don't mind, ya just hafta tell me and-" he starts and vaguely gestures towards the bedroom, and you look at him wide eyed.

"Tsumu-" you whisper, your heart swelling with affection, tears almost dwelling in your eyes at his honest expression. "I uhm... I'm assuming that you're clean? i don't mind if you... if you don't use a condom. I use contraceptives." You know that your cheeks are bright red while you keep talking, but the moment just feels so painfully intimate, when you're basically asking him to fuck you raw- it almost feels like love. It makes you vulnerable and you have a hard time looking into his eyes, but he is quick to turn your face towards him, his hand gently cupping your chin, while more of his weight suddenly lasts on you.

He looks at you for a moment, not saying anything, simply studying your face before he presses his lips against yours in a longing and gentle kiss. You return the kiss your hands quickly wrapping around his broad shoulders while you move your lips against his. He pulls back, his eyes so soft while he watches you. "Your trust means a lot to me. I'll make sure to keep it forever."

You're too flustered to say anything, your heart heavily pounding in your chest, so you take that as a cue and line his cock up at your entrance, this time angling your hips a bit, until the head of his cock disappears between your folds and stretches you out. "Please-" you gasp for air when you feel him pushing inside. You see how his gaze turns hazy, your own eyes also unable to focus on the sight of him while he pushes deeper and deeper inside of you, until he's finally bottoming out. His breath is shaky, his facial expression looks like a mixture of shock and pure bliss. "Yer- squeezin' me- so good, fuck," his eyes roll back, his muscles clenching hard while he tries to keep his weight as steady as he can.

You're not any better under him. His cock feels so big inside of you, a stretch that you haven't felt for so long, feeling better like anything you've ever had before. You feel tears dwelling in your eyes- from pleasure and from feeling so close to him, so connected like you're meant to be with each other, and he is quick to notice the change in your expression. "What's wrong?" He seems more focused when he leans down to press kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, gentle while he holds you. "N-nothing. It's just- I'm feeling a lot of things right now- please, Tsumu, I- I just like you so much-" your voice is low and soft, and he lifts his face to look at you, his expression so gentle and kind, you're sure that you'll never forget this moment. "I like ya too. Don't wanna live without ya, y/n. Yer precious to me- in a way I don't think anyone has been precious to me." His confesses, and you feel like your heart is skipping a beat.

He's not confessing his love to you- you've only known each other for a few months, with a rather long pause during the incident, it's too early to talk about love. Yet, you're convinced that he feels the same. That you're both made for each other and will love each other. Unconditionally.

You both don't need more words, and he presses his forehead against yours and looks deeply into your eyes while he starts to move his hips. Your jaw drops and your lips part slightly when he pulls away, his cock almost leaving you completely before he thrusts back in, slowly and controlled, so much that it drives you crazy. You can't even talk and beg him to do it again, yet he still understands what you need, and repeats the motion, thrusting into you nice and slow just how he is convinced that you like it. You moan softly, your breath meeting his lips while he starts setting a pace, sensual and slow, angling his hips slightly different until your hands grab into his shoulders just a bit harder when he hits the spot that makes you see stars. He curses when you clench around him, but he doesn't stop but keeps thrusting just a bit harder.

You don't know how long he keeps on fucking you like this, the pace nice and slow, just like lovers would, both of you enjoying the pleasure of being so, so close to each other, until you can't help but to feel your high approaching. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels digging into his back while you clench around him, knowing that you're almost there. His facial expression shifts at that sensation and his eyes shoot wide open.

"Fuck- y/n-" he groans and suddenly grabs your hips tighter when he pulls out- completely this time. Your jaw drops at the loss of friction, your hips trying to fight against his grip to bring him to push back into you- fruitlessly.

"Why are you-" you whine, feeling robbed and empty, your body needing him to be closer, needing him to give you something. "Shhh, I got ya." He moves your hips and you understand what he's trying to do, helping him to move your body until you're kneeling in front of him. The new position makes you tremble uncontrollably, and you know that his gaze is focused on your pussy while you nervously shift in his grip. "So, so pretty," he groans and leans down to press a kiss against your ass cheek, and you whimper at the praise.

"My pretty princess, I'll make ya feel so good, 'kay? Just a bit more, can ya wait for me, huh? I'll fill ya up nice and good if ya do." You could come from his dirty talk and his voice alone, your pussy helplessly clenching at the thought of what there is to come, and you loudly moan when he finally pushes inside, the angle so much deeper than before, it makes you see starts and until you tighten around him like a vice. He curses, his hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and spreading them to watch his cock disappear into your wet folds. You meet his thrust, desperate for more friction, and he slams back into you harder, making you slowly lose your mind. Your arms give up and your face lands on the pillow, but you barely notice that, all of your nerves only consisting of the pleasure that Atsumu is giving you.

"Fuck, y/n- can ya cum for me? Can ya do that, pretty princess?" He groans, one of his hands releasing your ass to rub circles on your clit- a little sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but when he finally hits the spot you drool on the bed sheets. "Tsumu- gonna cum- gonna cum for you-" you whine out loudly, and it only spurs him on to move faster until you cry out his name, only able to form this one word while you clench around him and reach your high. You realize that he's cumming to, but he doesn't slow down, his groans turning into an overstimulated whimper while he keeps on fucking you while cumming. He's coming so much inside of you, it's already dripping down your leg before he's even finished, but you enjoy the feeling of the hot sticky liquid on your skin.

You don't know how much time has passed until you finally calm down and simply lose all tension. He softly pulls out and places your hips on the couch before he collapses and flatly lays down on his back next to you. His arms reach out for you, and you allow him to pull you against his sweaty chest. You're sweaty too- something that you only notice now, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's probably used to sweat anyway. His hand starts caressing your hair, and your fingers roam along his chest, feeling the soft flushed skin under your fingers.

"How was it?" His hand still caresses your hair while you lay on his chest, listening contently to the sound of his heartbeat with a smile forming on your lips. "That was... really good," you airily laugh and cuddle closer against his chest, and he wraps his free arm tightly around you, instantly making you feel warmer when your barely clad chest presses against his naked one.

"Just really good? I'll need to work on my stamina, can't have ya sayin' really good only. Wasn't that mind blowing or something like that? Felt mind-blowing to me at least."

You softly snort at his words and look up to him, only to find him looking at you fondly. "Wanna stay over? I'll order some take out and we can finish that movie?" His eyes flicker to the screen, only to see that the movie is basically over. "Or we can start another movie. I think there is a sequel to that."

"Shouldn't we finish the first one before we start the sequel?" You look at him with raised brows, and he laughs softly at your reaction. "You're perfect. Just stay right here." His arm wraps around you, and you feel warmth in your heart,

while you lie in the arms of your husband.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu smut #HERE YOU GO!#I caught a cold unfortunately right after I finished my exams #I'm laying in bed all day #but I'm sure it will be better soon #I hope you enjoyed this part #it's so long omg #like the longest I've ever written I think #I hope it's alright #I tried proofreading it but I'm sure I missed some things lol #I hope you'll still enjoy it! <3 #LOVE YA! <3 #I'll be more active now! because I'm on my semester break <3

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 2 years ago

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Who Cares for You (m)

Guess who’s back with YET ANOTHER fic lmao. This is based on 2 prompts, one from @waterfallofspace and one from an anon, the prompts are kinda long to put here but essentially the idea was that Elijah comes to work sick and refuses to go home, so Greyson has to figure out a way to get him home and take care of him. THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPTS!! <3 This one was a little out of my comfort zone, and I LOVED writing it so I hope you guys like it :) A little over 3k words because I just cannot be concise, it isn’t in my nature lol.

OH and if you’re the anon who sent the Greyson-centric prompt, I’ll be filling that one later this week >:)

cw: male, cold, coughing, light mess.

Who Cares for You

In the five years Greyson had been the executive chef at Elliot’s, many thing had changed; he’d become a partner; they’d expanded into the storefront next to the original, tiny space; and they’d seen about a dozen cooks, servers, bussers, and dishwashers come and go. One thing always stayed the same, though: August was always, without fail, maddeningly slow.

Greyson was sitting in the office, throwing a ball against the wall while attempting to come up with the fall menu they were supposed to be rolling out in the next few weeks. Was it an urgent task? Definitely not. But, his cooks were on prep projects, his sous chef was sorting through the walk-in, and truly, he had nothing better to do.

Unfortunately, his creativity was about as lukewarm as the office today.

Just when he was about to say fuck it and click out of the near-empty word document he had open, Greyson heard his boss swing open the back doors of the kitchen and stomp inside.

“Christ, it’s hot,” Elijah said, pushing past the chef and into his seat in their shared office. “Is August always this hot?”

“I mean, I’m sure climate change doesn’t help,” Greyson said, cracking his neck and turning toward Elijah. He raised both eyebrows when the two of them locked eyes. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh, what?” Elijah asked, sitting down and turning on his computer. Greyson motioned to his own face, then at Elijah’s. “What?” Elijah asked again.

“You’re wearing glasses,” Greyson pointed out. “You’re not feeling well?”

“Oh. Yeah, I have a headache, didn’t want to put in contacts,” Elijah explained, pawing his nose with the back of his hand absentmindedly. He glanced again at the Chef, who had a cheeky half-smile on his face. “What?”

“Who the fuck gets a cold in the middle of August?” Greyson asked, laughing. Elijah rolled his eyes, then grimaced.

“Fuck off, Grey, I do not have a cold. It’s a headache. Not everything is a -,” Elijah cut himself off when his breath hitched, seemingly out of nowhere. “Huh! HUTSCHH-oo! Snf.” Elijah cleared his throat, and turned back to the Chef, high spots of embarrassment blooming on his cheeks. “A thing,” he finished, lamely.

Greyson snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, not everything is ‘a thing’, but this,” he gestured at Elijah’s entire presence, “is most certainly a thing. I’ve known you five years, Lij, you think I can’t tell when you’re sick?”

“What is this? What is happening?” Elijah turned his chair to fully face Greyson and gave him a look of disbelief. “Are we an old married couple now? You gonna start organizing my pills in little containers and making sure I take them with oatmeal every morning? Putting my coffee on the night before my early-morning shift down at the mines?” Greyson sat back, arms behind his head, and shrugged, clearly amused. “Do people still do the coffee thing? I thought that was eradicated by Big Keurig.” Elijah couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that. “For real though, boss,” Greyson continued, “It’s gonna be slow as hell tonight. If you’re sick, just go home; Mark can handle the front. Hell, Matt could handle the back, to be frank.” Greyson sat back up and clapped a hand on his boss’s shoulder. “No need for you to martyr yourself. For once.” An insult, but said without malice.

Elijah wasn’t having it. “I’m here. I’m not sick, I’ll take an ibuprofen. I don’t need you to mother me, Greyson, though God knows you love to do it.” He stood up then, clearly looking to finish his tirade strong, but instead crumpled to the side to muffle a volley of sneezes into his sleeve. “Huhh! HuhNGSTSHH-ue! HhDTSHHH-uhh! Hhh...HNSTCHHOO!” Elijah sniffled and looked up from his sleeve at Greyson, who was clearly basking in the thought of being correct. “Fuck off,” Elijah said again.

“I didn’t say a word,” Greyson said, holding up his hands to proclaim his innocence. “But I feel like you might want to bring these,” he handed his boss the box of tissues from behind his computer, “with you.”

Elijah looked, seemingly longingly, at the tissues before pushing past the chef once again. “Not necessary,” he said, opening the office door. “I have to go get inventory done.”

***

“Chef?”

Greyson snapped his head up at the sound of his sous chef’s voice and gave him a half smile and wave. “What’s up, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, leaning against the door to Greyson’s office. “Just checking on you. Thought maybe you’d fallen into a trance or something,” he said. Greyson laughed and swiveled his chair away from the computer.

“Nah, just trying to get this goddamn menu written, but I have literally not one single idea,” he said, pushing his hair away from his face. Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Why not have Elijah help? Don’t you guys usually bounce ideas off each other?” Matt asked.

Greyson huffed out a laugh and turned back towards the computer. “Elijah is currently ignoring me for calling him out. He has a cold and desperately needs to martyr himself on this, the slowest week of the year.”

Matt snorted. “Sounds like Elijah,” he said, picking at a loose thread on his chef’s coat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy leave early – well, unless you count leaving to take other people home sick.” The sous chef shrugged and pushing himself back to a standing position as Greyson slowly turned toward him, a look of bemusement on his face. “What?” Matt asked.

“Matt, you absolute genius,” Greyson said, pushing himself to his feet. “You just gave me an incredible idea.”

“About… the menu?” Matt asked, confused. Greyson placed a hand on his sous’ shoulder and shook his head.

“Not about the menu,” Greyson said. “Do you think you can hold it down tonight?”

“Uhh… yeah, Chef. I’ve got it covered. Are you...going home?”

“Not exactly,” Greyson said. With that, he swung open the doors to the dining room, leaving his bewildered sage in the dust.

***

Elijah slammed down his clipboard in frustration for about the tenth time that morning – there was no way in hell this inventory was going to get done today.

It had started fine enough; he’d inventoried the wine and beer relatively quickly, but once he got to the liquor his body apparently had other plans for him.

“HUHGSTCCHH-oo! HUTSCH-oo! Hhh...hnGTSHZUE!” Elijah sneezed into his rolled-up sleeve again and cursed himself for being too proud to take the tissues Greyson had offered with him. He wiped his nose gingerly on his sleeve, sucked in, and sat down on one of the thirty milk crates adorning the liquor room.

Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Elijah felt like garbage. He’d known for days that he was getting sick, and despite all of the preventative measures he always took it had bloomed into a Whole Thing, just like what he’d told Greyson it wasn’t. He would’ve laughed if he was thinking of it in hindsight, but in the moment he just felt miserable and sorry for himself.

Elijah went to stand and try to count the bottles once again, when he heard an unmistakable sound in the stairwell leading to the liquor room.

“Huh...UTSHH-oo!”

Elijah turned to face the closed door. Was that...Greyson?

Without warning, the door flew open, and there stood Greyson. Elijah had seen him only an hour before, but for some reason he looked different than earlier. Upon closer inspection, Elijah realized it was his eyes – they were rimmed red, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Grey? What’re you -”

“HUTSHH-oo!” Greyson turned to sneeze into his elbow. He shook his head as though to clear it and turned to Elijah. “Sorry, ’scuse me. I was just looking for you to help me with the menu – HUSHH-oo!” Another sneeze, and what sounded like a muted sniffle from the crook of his elbow.

Elijah couldn’t help but cringe. Maybe this was why Greyson seemed so adamant for Elijah to admit to being ill earlier; because he was himself. “Bless you,” Elijah said, his voice low and congested.

“Thanks,” Greyson said, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Sorry, not sure where those came from.”

Elijah swallowed hard to clear the cough he knew was forming in his throat. “Are you sick?” he asked, expecting Greyson to deny the claim. Instead, the chef just shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Just started out of nowhere. Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair and sniffling lightly. “I just came to see if you’d come help me with the menu, but I see you’re...busy. So I’ll leave you to it.”

Greyson turned to leave, prompting Elijah to call after him up the stairs: “If you’re sick, you should go hombe!”

Without turning to say anything, Greyson held up two fingers as an acknowledgment and headed through the door back into the dining room.

***

“HSTHH! USHH!! HTSSSH!!” Greyson barreled back into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes relentlessly.

“The fuck happened to you?” Matt asked, moving towards his chef with concern. Greyson shook his head and turned on the water at the sink.

“I’m playing the long game,” Greyson explained, leaning down to splash water onto his face. “I may have made a slight miscalculation though because holy fuck.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt asked, pulling some paper towels out of the dispenser and handing them to his boss. Greyson took them gratefully, and pressed them into his face.

“Well, like you said, Elijah will only leave if he thinks that he needs to take someone home. So. I’m going to be the someone he takes home.” Greyson pulled the paper towels off his face and looked at Matt with bloodshot eyes. “How do I look?”

“Crazed. Like a madman. What did you do? Spray yourself with pepper spray?”

“Ooo, so close. I snorted some white pepper.”

Matt’s eyebrows creased together and his mouth opened in confusion. Whatever question he had next clearly died on his lips at the incredibly odd admission from his boss. “White...pepper.”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, scrubbing at his nose. “I need Elijah to think I have whatever he has. Thus, white pepper.” He smiled at his sous, who was continuing to give him an unbelieving look. “What?”

Matt shook his head. “The two of you were made for each other, I swear to god,” he said, walking back to his station and picking his knife back up. “What are you going to do when he comes back up and you’re miraculously cured?”

Greyson chuckled softly in the back of his throat. “Trust me,” he said. “I’ve got this all under control.”

***

After another twenty minutes of attempting to finish inventory, Elijah gave up and stomped up the stairs. He knew he’d hate himself for it in a few days, but he just couldn’t fathom counting any more bottles with the absolutely insane headache that had bloomed in his temples.

While walking towards the office. Elijah allowed himself to fantasize about his bed. About wrapping himself up in a blanket, watching TV for hours on end, sleeping as long as he wanted. Was it pathetic? Yeah, maybe a little, but he always felt like it helped get through particularly difficult days.

When he stepped into the office, the first thing that struck him was Greyson, slumped over on the chair with his head in his hands. Elijah cleared his throat, and Greyson sat up.

“Shit,” he said, “sorry, boss. Headache.”

Elijah’s head pounded at the mention of a headache. “Do we have any ibupro – hh..hnnNGSTHH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side and attempted to stifle the sneeze, making the pain in his head explode.

“Bless,” Greyson said, and pulled out a container of pills. “Always stocked and ready. Want some?”

Without thinking, Elijah held out his hand. “Thandks,” he said, dry-swallowing four pills. Immediately, he cringed at the pain in his throat, to which Greyson gave a small grimace of solidarity.

“I feel you. Sore throat,” Greyson said, touching his own and pouring out some pills. He swallowed his with a sip of something from a paper cup, then dipped into his elbow to sneeze. “HUSSHH-uhh!”

Elijah sat down next to the chef and cleared his throat. “You should go,” he said, gently. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Greyson shrugged at his boss and turned back to his computer. “Nah, I’m alright,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t bring my car today, and I’m having my apartment cleaned. The woman who cleans for me doesn’t get there til noon, and it takes her a few hours to clean it.” Greyson smiled tiredly and said, “Thanks, though.”

Elijah swallowed around the pain in his throat and said, “I cand drive you. You cand stay at mby apartment for a few hours, too, if you wandt. I mbean, it’s like ten mbinutes from yours.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow at his boss. “Really?” he asked. “You’d do that?”

Elijah nodded and sniffled a bit. “’Course, Grey. Hhuh…” Elijah’s breath hitched then, and Greyson pushed the tissue box towards his boss, who took a few in anticipation. “HhhGTSHHH-ue! Huh! HUHESZCHUE!” Elijah sniffled again, his sinuses too blocked to attempt to blow his nose, and threw away the tissues.

“Bless you,” Greyson said again. Elijah just ignored him.

“Grab your backpack. Let’s go before the traffic hits.”

***

This is going to work, Greyson thought as they swerved through the city traffic towards Elijah’s apartment. I can’t believe this is really going to work.

After they’d left the restaurant – with Greyson waving to his staff dramatically and Matt rolling his eyes at the theatrics of this whole charade – Greyson had asked if Elijah could stop at Walgreens.

“Don’t want to use up any of your stuff,” he’d explained, though truly he’d wanted to stop because he knew in his heart of hearts that there was no way Elijah, King of Denial, had any kind of cold supplies at his place. Elijah had nodded silently, and stayed in the car while Greyson hopped out and shopped.

The issue was, he wasn’t exactly sure what kind of illness Elijah was dealing with – no clue if he had an oncoming cough, or a fever, or abject sinus pressure – so he was forced to buy pretty much the entirety of the cold and flu aisle. The cashier raised both eyebrows when he placed the mountain of medicine, tissues, and lozenges on the counter.

“Wow,” she said, “someone must have one hell of a cold.”

Someone sure does, Greyson thought to himself when he threw open the door to the car and saw that Elijah was once again stuck in a pre-sneeze.

“Huhh...hhh. Huh, huhhh…!”

“Uh, boss - ?”

“HhNGSTHHZUE! ITSZCHUE! Huh! Hhuh-GTSSHH-oo!” Elijah doubled over his lap to sneeze, and cringed into his sleeve when he was finished, clearly trying to figure out if wiping his nose on his sleeve was too gross when Greyson was going to be sitting next to him.

Greyson dug into the bag of supplies and pulled out a box of tissues, which he ripped open and handed to Elijah. The GM silently pulled a few from the box and blew his nose towards the driver’s side door before turning back to Greyson.

“Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. Greyson winced at the sound of it.

“Do you, uh… do you want me to drive the rest of the way?” Greyson asked, placing the bag in the back seat. Elijah cocked his head, confused.

“Thought you were sigck,” he said, sniffling. Greyson pursed his lips together not to laugh.

“Yeah,” Greyson said, biting his cheek at the complete absurdity of this situation. “Let’s, uh… let’s just get to your place.”

Greyson had white-knuckled most of the remainder of the drive, as Elijah seemed to delve deeper into illness with each passing mile. After one particularly harsh sneeze had almost propelled them into a semi, Greyson had nearly screamed, “Oh, Jesus Christ please don’t kill us!” to which Elijah just rolled his eyes.

Finally, they arrived at Elijah’s building and parked in the garage underground. They rode the elevator silently – with the exception of Elijah’s coughing and sniffling – to the floor of Elijah’s apartment, and continued their silence until they reached his front door.

Elijah opened the door and Greyson marveled, as he always did, at how clean and organized his boss’s apartment was. Even the large window in the sitting room was unsmudged by fingerprints or bird shit. It wasn’t like Greyson’s apartment as a dump, not by any stretch, but it was certainly a bachelor pad; Elijah’s, in stark comparison, was styled—cozy and lived-in, but everything in its place. It was a home.

“You seemb to have mbade a miraculous recovery,” Elijah rasped as placed his keys in the bowl by the door. “You sure you’re ndot just allergic to wooorKSHH-uhh! NGTSZH-ue!”

“Lij,” Greyson said, holding the box of tissues out for his boss once again and placing the drugstore bag on the kitchen table, “I made a miraculous recovery because I’m not sick.”

Elijah turned to the chef and raised an eyebrow from behind a tissue. “But...you said you had a headache. And a sore throat, and you were sndeez – INGSTZUE!”

“Elijah,” Greyson said quietly, stepping towards his boss. “I’m not sick.” He slapped a hand onto Elijah’s forehead and gave him an accusatory smile, eyebrows raised. “You are.”

“I’mb – HNGSTHH-uhh! God-fuckigg-dammit,” Elijah cursed, pulling away from his friend to sneeze, once again, into his sleeve. He ignored Greyson’s offer of the tissues this time, in lieu of sniffing, hard, and meeting the other man’s eyes with a watery gaze. “You lied to mbe.”

“Oh, please, don’t be so dramatic,” Greyson said, pulling the supplies out of the bags and placing them pointedly on the table. “I didn’t lie to you. I tricked you,” he smiled at Elijah and offered him a bottle of nyquil – a peace offering. “Big difference.”

Elijah took the nyquil tentatively, and gave Greyson a look of confusion. “I dond’t… I don’t get it. Why?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“You’re a good boss, Lij, and an even better guy. You drive your staff home anytime they’re sick – hell, anytime they’re even hungover. But you refuse to give yourself the same treatment,” Greyson took the nyquil bottle back from his boss and cracked it open. He handed it back, along with a bag of lozenges, and the box of tissues. “You care for everyone in that restaurant. Who cares for you?”

Elijah felt his voice catch in his throat, so he closed his mouth, unable to form a response. They stood there together for a moment – Greyson sorting medicines quietly, Elijah watching with his arms full of the cold supplies he never would’ve bought himself – until he was finally able to get the words out. “Thangk you, Grey.”

Greyson smiled as he looked up at his boss. “No need to thank me,” he said. “Now take your fuckin’ medicine and get your ass in bed. I don’t trust you to not work, so I’ll be out here guarding the door until I’m positive you’re knocked out.”

Elijah huffed out a small laugh. “Oh, fuck you,” he said without malice. Greyson laughed back, in earnest.

“Get some rest, boss. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

#snz #snez #male sneeze #sickfic #coldfic #snzfic #snzblr #original character #whiskeyswriting #i'll be honest #i like how this one turned out!#i missed writing their banter while doing the ones from early in their relationship #love u guys hope ya like it <3 #also jesus fuck this one feels like extra long??? idk #whatevs. more is more right? lol

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