Untitled Good Omens Sneezefic (You Don't Have To Know The Fandom)

[Parksborn]

DISCLAIMER:

I only crept into Pratchett's and Gaiman's sandbox and started to play with their pretty, pretty toys. I do not own Good Omens or the characters thereof.

This is my first ever sneezefic and my first ever post on this site, so please be gentle. This is a Good Omens fic, but since it's not so popular, (but it is amazing) you don't have to know the fandom. There's slight fluff, but I'm not very good at fluffy moments, so don't be surprised if you don't even notice it. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy!

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They only had three bottles of wine that night. Out of said bottles, Aziraphale had only three glasses while Crowley was roaring drunk, utterly smashed. He'd expect that, though, they just averted the apocalypse! There 'd be no doubt they would be suffering some minor mental repercussions. Crowley was slurring his words and nodding off, his head slipping downwards, then being slightly jerked back. “Come on, dear, let's get you to bed.”

“Mmnnh,” Crowley responded, eyes sliding shut. Aziraphale smiled softly as he hauled his lover up, said lover doing nothing as to help him. Aziraphale practically drug Crowley into the passenger side of the Bentley before hopping into the driver's side and slowly pulling into the thin traffic of three in the morning. When Aziraphale got to Crowley's apartment, he had to drag his lover up the stairs before gently depositing him onto his overtly large bed.

“Good night, dear,” Aziraphale whispered then left to return to his bookshop.

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The night before, they had set up a lunch at twelve, so when Crowley got back to his flat, he blindly set his alarm for eleven. Now, the piece of junk was beeping incessantly and being hastily ripped out from the outlet and being chucked across the room. Crowley gave a small smile then reluctantly swung his legs over his bed and stood up. Crowley grunted as his head spun and a dull ache appeared behind his eyes. I'm sure I sobered up last night... Well, maybe not, he thought as the dull ache began to throb. “Great,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Crowley went about taking a quick shower and getting dressed. He popped a few aspirin before stepping out of his apartment and locking the door. He had about half an hour before he had to meet Aziraphale, so he thought he'd just wreak some havoc beforehand. He was clearly uninterested, though, as the way he scowled at the thought. Instead, he walked aimlessly around town to kill the extra time.

He'd reached St. James before he decided to find out exactly where he'd wandered to. Relieved that he wasn't lost, he sat down on an unoccupied bench. He inhaled deeply through his nose, but felt his breath hitch. “Hm?” he grunted. Then he felt a small tickle grow slowly in his sinuses. “What the-eh... Hell- ihhh... Hitchew!” he pitched forward, and stayed put, confused. His body was still mostly human, but this had never occurred before. “I suppose that's what a sneeze is...” He quite enjoyed it, actually. “Heh... Hechuh!” Another sneeze ripped its way out of his body and he shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness that had momentarily replaced his headache. “Hech-uh! Etchoo! Heh... Huh...” He groaned in annoyance. “Eh... Huchumpt!” He sprayed saliva all over the hand in his lap and grunted as he wiped away the wetness on his pants, uncaring of their newly-bought status. He sighed when the overcast October sky started to drizzle but he didn't have the energy nor the care to avert the rainfall's path.

His headache returned full-force and he felt a lingering tickle still in his sinuses. His throat stung and he coughed wetly. Is this what dying felt like? He shivered in the cold of October, and his limbs ached. I'm dying, he thought. He slowly grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial two then the call button. He didn't know when he shut his eyes, just that he liked it better that way. He waited for Aziraphale to pick up the phone, his hand gripping the cell rather tightly as his arms trembled.

“Hello?” Aziraphale's lyrical voice rang through the line, but no response came, only labored breathing. “Crowley, dear, are you alright?” Crowley opened his mouth to answer but something scratchy and unintelligible came out. He cleared his throat, and winced at the intense stinging it caused.

“I-I think I'm dying...” He whispered into the phone.

“Excuse me?” Aziraphale asked without a response. “Crowley?” When nothing came through, he tried again. “Crowley!” he shouted, panic clear and high in his voice. Crowley wished he could tell the angel that he was still there, that he would be okay if his angel would only get to him. “Crowley, where are you, dear?” Aziraphale asked, trying to calm himself. Crowley heard the old door to the shop slam shut and exhaled before he tried to speak.

“Saint... S-” Aziraphale cut him off.

“Okay, okay, stay put, I'll be there soon.” Crowley felt the darkness and relaxation of sleep creep upon him and dropped his phone, pulling his black trench coat closer and pulling his knees to his chest. Soon, he lost the battle between sleep and himself and left the conscious world.

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Aziraphale ran through the empty sidewalks and entered St. James park breathless. He snapped his head around, searching for his lover. “Crowley...” he whispered as he spotted a curled up figure on a bench near by. Had he been stabbed in the stomach? Was he bleeding out? “He's probably just being melodramatic,” he reassured himself. He jogged to Crowley and sighed in relief when no traces of blood was found. He swept drenched black locks away from his face and jerked back when he felt the heat radiating from Crowley's body. “Oh my,” he murmured. “Crowley? Crowley, dear, wake up. You're not dying.” Aziraphale pushed more soaked locks from his face and pressed his hand to Crowley's forehead. “You've got quite the fever, dear.” The demon hummed and leaned into the cool touch.

A small smile crossed Aziraphale's face as he thought about how cute and very unCrowley-like that was. He slid his hands under Crowley's arms and hauled him upright. He layed his hand on Crowley's forehead again and then his cheeks, getting a read on just how bad his fever was. “M'head hurds,” Crowley mumbled.

“Okay, what else hurts?” Aziraphale inquired softly.

“Throad, body... ev'ry ding.”

“Alright, dear, the good news is that you are not dying. You're just sick.”

“Sigk?” Crowley asked, his voice nasally and congestion evident.

“Yes, hun,” Aziraphale affirmed. He slid his arms under his lover and picked him up bridal-style, surprised at how extremely light he was. His lover opened his amber eyes, glossy and unfocused.

“'Zira?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Thangs,” He whispered. Aziraphale hummed and nodded his head. “'Zira?”

“Yes?” Crowley coughed harshly to the side and Aziraphale winced at the sound of phlegm rattling in his chest.

“Wine?” the demon asked and Aziraphale frowned.

“No, not until you're better.” Crowley nodded, slightly put off by this but accepting nonetheless. Crowley snuggled deeper into the angel's dry, clothed chest, hoping to absorb the warmness of his lover. “Dear, try to get some sleep.”

“'Zira?”

“Yes, darling?” Aziraphale's angelic patience was being put to good use.

“Stay wid me?” Aziraphale smiled adoringly.

“Of course.”

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There might or might not be more, just depends on what you guys want. Hopefully, Mercury will find this and enjoy it, he/she's the one who inspired me to write it.

~Bittersweet

[webmeistro]

Nice! Amazed that someone else read Good Omens.

[pinknose]

More puh-leeeeeze~ Love this to death!

[Parksborn]

I'm glad you like it! And I'm working on the next part right now, so expect it within a couple of days. Thanks so much for reading!

~Bittersweet

[Quite Contrary]

What?? I love Pratchett! Hm, but I've never seen this.. Well. Either way. This is super cute and I really like it so far. I hope you continue

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Lovely story. Very Pratchett-ey. I think you've captured the style very well.

[Mercury]

GOOD OMENS!!! There's not enough of it in the world and it's awesome that you're writing another part. I hope there will be more than one

[Parksborn]

Lovely story. Very Pratchett-ey. I think you've captured the style very well.

Really? That's so sweet of you to say! Thanks so much! <3

I'm planning on several parts. Well maybe I should say many, MANY more. I love the idea of having Crowley all vulnerable. So expect some of that. Maybe I'll do some sick!Aziraphale. Once again, it all depends on you guys.

~ Bittersweet

[Parksborn]

Mkay, here's the next part, if you don't like slash, then this part may not be for you. It's only slightly slashy, but some people are kinda touchy. Anyhoo, all mistakes are mine, blah, blah. I don't own GO so don't sue. Wouldn't get much anyways. There's some nose blowing and stifling in here. And please don't laugh at my attempt at getting better with fluff. Uhm, I think that may be it...

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Aziraphale sighed as he helped his barely coherent lover undress and get him into dry clothes. Aziraphale enjoyed overly large tees, so Crowley's small frame was swallowed in the cloth and he gave the demon some old sweat pants. Aziraphale never slept, but he did enjoy comfy clothes to read in. He was relieved when he finally got his lover into his unused bed. “'Zira?” Crowley murmured softly, Aziraphale barely catching the word as he walked out of the room. “You said you'd stay wid be...” Something stirred within Aziraphale, he had said that, he realized.

“Right, I apologize for forgetting,” Aziraphale said softly, mindful of Crowley's headache.

“Mb'ere,” Crowley said, waving the angel closer. “Mb'cold.” Aziraphale knew what he wanted, he wanted to cuddle. He always said that he was cold whenever he wanted to snuggle, Crowley would never say those words. He was way too dignified. He sighed, knowing he'd never get his lover to sleep without doing the requested action. Aziraphale pulled back the covers and slid himself behind the demon, snaking a hand around his small waist. “Bedder.” Aziraphale had to suppress a small laugh, this Crowley, sick, fevered Crowley was so unCrowley.

He felt Crowley stiffen and propped himself up to peer over his shoulder curiously. “Heh-Heshoo! Hatchoo! Isshhoo! Ahtch... Hakuh!” Crowley snuffled wetly, one long pull.

“You really should cover when you sneeze, darling,” Aziraphale chided with no real harshness.

“Sorry,” he murmured sleepily.

“Just get some sleep, dear.” Aziraphale said, removing his arm from the demon's waist and layed on his back, Crowley whimpered, whimpered, at the loss. He turned over to his other side, and layed his head on Aziraphale's chest, one hand gripping the angel's shirt. The unspoken fear of him leaving being physically expressed. Aziraphale ran gentle fingers through his demon's hair, lulling Crowley to sleep. The angel placed a small kiss to the top of his demon's head. “I love, you, dear.”

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The angel listened to Crowley's steady breathing throughout the rest of the day and night, noticing when it became harder to do so, and he felt the rattling in his demon's chest. He slowly moved himself out of the demon's gentle hold when morning came and scribbled a short note before leaving to go to the drug store. He'd need stuff for coughs, stuff for congestion, stuff for fevers, a thermometer, and tissues (at that note, he shuddered at the memory of Crowley's snuffling.) He grabbed a few boxes of tissues, a box of Theraflu, cough drops, cough syrup. His eye twitched before practically dumping the whole shelf in the basket, frustrated with the plethora of boxes and bottles. He huffed and put the basket on the counter. The middle-aged woman at the counter smiled after unloading the basket. “Stocking up for cold and flu season, I see. They say this year’s gonna be pretty bad.”

“Really? That's just great,” Aziraphale mumbled uncharacteristicly, sarcasm very unbecoming of the angel. The lady finished ringing him up and he payed with a fifty he magicked up. “Keep the change,” he said and picked up his bag. He walked out of the store, the thought of Crowley getting sick again made him shake his head. This might be a very long winter.

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Crowley roused shortly after Aziraphale left and read the note.

Dearest Crowley,

I've gone to the store for some supplies. I'll be back soon, dear.

Love,

Aziraphale

He had to reread Aziraphale's neat longhand cursive a few times for his hazy mind to grasp the words. His breath hitched then he inhaled sharply. “Aishoo, Heh-hah-Hahche'KUH!” Crowley was bent at the waist and gave a thick sniffle, blessing miserably. “Hat'chekah!” Crowley growled and coughed harshly, quickly being reduced to a sniffling mess. He pinched his nostrils between his thumb and forefinger as he felt the familiar tingling sensation, hoping it would stop the sneeze. “Hah'ingk. Etch'it... Aich'ing.” He sniffled wetly before continuing to stifle. “Etch'ng. Eh'ngk... Ach'it. Heh'uhn, Ch'enk.” He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. “Disss iss ridiculoussss,” he hissed, unable to control his serpentine habits.

“Now, dear, stifling isn't good for you.” Crowley shot a weak glare Aziraphale's way before giving a long, liquidy pull. Aziraphale shuddered, setting the bag down and opening a box of tissues before pulling out a good amount, and putting them against Crowley's nose, ignoring the grunt of protest it earned. This ended when he sneezed again. “Hah'HITCHEW! Heh'KUH Uhhghuhhh...” Crowley groaned.

“Blow,” Aziraphale instructed.

“I cand do it by bysssself, 'Zira.” Aziraphale suppressed the urge the roll his eyes and said,

“Do it for me, dear.” Crowley gave an exasperated sigh before reluctantly complying. Aziraphale could feel the warmth and weight through the layers of tissues and clucked his tongue, earning another glare. He really must be suffering, the angel thought. He folded the tissues and set them aside before plucking more out of the box. He would be using handkerchiefs right about now, but he knew he didn't have that many. “Blow,” he said again after placing them against Crowley’s nose. Crowley closed his eyes tightly, clearly embarrassed and obeyed again. Aziraphale dabbed at Crowley's nose before having his hand swatted away. Crowley was glad his cheeks were flushed from his fever, because his face would be beet red by now.

Aziraphale brought the trash bin over to the side of the bed and threw the tissues away. “How're you feeling, dear?”

“Like I got hit with a busss,” he said, the congestion leaving his voice.

“That sounds lovely,” Aziraphale said earning an unnoticed rolling of the eyes by Crowley. He dug through the bag and asked, “Have you been coughing?”

“Little,” answered the demon.

“Nasal congestion or chest congestion?”

What're you? A doctor? Crowley thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes again. “Little of both.” This is utterly embarrassing.

“Alright, darling,” Aziraphale said after getting a few doses out of various bottles. “Take these.” Aziraphale handed Crowley the pills and a cup of water he conjured up. Crowley's face scrunched with pain as he tried to swallow, but managed to get them all down. Aziraphale put a spoonful of thick, purple liquid in front of his face. “It's just cough syrup,” he said when the demon gave it a questioning look. “It's grape, I know how you like those grape candies.” Crowley slowly opened his mouth and took the medicine before gagging. He made a face that Aziraphale had to stifle a laugh at, but he failed miserably.

“Jerk,” Crowley snapped and layed down, turning his back to the angel.

“Oh, dear, I didn't mean it like that.”

“'Courssse you didn't.” he said sarcastically, but his offended front didn't last long as he coughed violently. His attack soon turned into gagging and the inability to breathe. Of course, he didn't really need to, but his body panicked nonetheless. Aziraphale hauled him into a sitting position and thumped his back, hoping to break up whatever was choking Crowley. His eyes were red and shining with fever when he opened them again.

After Crowley's coughing attack, Aziraphale helped him get laid on his stomach before crawling under the covers and rubbing gentle, calming circles into his back. Soon, he drew random shapes and when he drew a triangle, Crowley said, “Triangle.” Aziraphale smiled and drew another shape and Crowley guessed, “Square.”

“No,” Aziraphale answered and drew the shape again, but slower.

“Er, rectangle.” Aziraphale hummed in affirmation and drew a letter on his back. “I,” Crowley murmured sleepily, eyes sliding shut.

“Yup,” Aziraphale said, then moved to the next letter, or, more correctly, shape.

“Heart?” Crowley asked and Aziraphale gave a soft 'mhmm' and set to draw the next letter. “U.” Crowley gave a small smile and turned on his side, gazing into pools of crystalline blue.

Aziraphale layed on his back and said, “C'mere, love.” Crowley moved against his lover and nestled his head on Aziraphale's chest, laying a hand next to his face. The angel began to softly sing an Enochian lullaby to the demon, causing him to relax further into Aziraphale. He ran his fingers through the demon's black locks and continued to sing. He was interrupted, though.

“Hetchoo!” Crowley brought his slender fingers up to his nose and clamped his nostrils shut, not wanting to sneeze on his angel. “Nn'gsst, hept'ngk, uh'nxt. Eh... Huhp'tch. Ah'cht.” Aziraphale swatted his hand away and sat him up, plucking a few tissues out of the box then holding them to Crowley's nose. He grunted in irritation before continuing, “Huh'chuh! Uhn'kutch! Aitchew! Eh... Huh... Hah-EPTCHEW!” Aziraphale felt the moisture and warmth through the tissue and shook his head, blonde curls bouncing.

When it seemed like he was done, Aziraphale instructed, “Blow.” The demon complied with a rush of warm air. “You done, dear?” Crowley nodded miserably, closing his eyes. They moved back into the intimate position and Aziraphale hummed a different celestial lullaby. When his demon's breathing became slow and even, he decided he'd give sleeping a try, then he was out like a light.

[pinknose]

D'awwwww! This is way too cute! My brain can't handle all this cuteness all at once!!

[ohlala8]

Aw, this is adorable. I'm not super involved in GO fandom, but I loved the book, and Crowley seems really in character. More please?

[Akahana]

AWWWWWWWWWWWWW~~~ *espoldes* So...much...adorableness...PLEASE CONTINUE!!!! <33333333333

[Parksborn]

You guys are so nice! Thanks for the compliments and I'm working on more so it'll be up soon.

[Parksborn]

Hey, you guys, I had some trouble with this one, so it's a kind of slow update. Anyhoo, 'ZIra's little spazzout will be explained later. Uhm, I wrote some sick!Aziraphale but I didn't like it, but if you want to read it, I'll post it. I don't own GO. Only in my sweet, sweet, slashy dreams. There's a little bit of Supernatural's theory on angels in here and lots of stifling, uhm, so yeah. I'm gonna try to do a little of everything for you guys, 'cause I don't know what you're into. Tell me if you'd like something worked into it and I'll try my best to get it in there.

P.S. I have no beta. All mistakes are mine.

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Crowley woke, the need to sneeze rousing him and he sat up. It built slowly, and he noticed his angel was sleeping beside him, so he pinched his nose quickly right before the sneeze came. “Eh'chnxt.” The sneeze came out squelchy and muffled as he tried to sniffle silently. He clamped his nose shut when he felt more sneezes coming. “Nn'kst, uh'ngk, ah'uhng. Eh... Ihh'ngk.” The stifles came heavy and wet, and continued, unrelenting. “Ngxsht. Heh-ngssht, hn'gshsss, hec'ngssss, hk'NGK...” Crowley was breathing heavily after the heavy, thick sneezes came. He slowly peered over to the angel, who was still dead to the world. “Heh'ngxt, Eh...” Crowley resisted the urge to groan as his sneeze was stuck. “Heh... Hah... Hehh'nxghht!” When no more came, he figured he was done. That was, until, “Huhh'ESHEWW!” Crowley glared at the snot and spray in his hand and leaned across his lover, plucking a tissue to wipe it away. “Grossss.” He tossed the tissue away, uncaring of where it landed.

And miraculously, the angel was still asleep. He had centuries to make up for, after all. He felt another sneeze coming on and he snapped the back of his wrist to his nose, somewhat containing the mucus trying to escape. He snuffled, thick and heavy. He ran the back of his hand under his nose, leaving a glistening trail across his hand. He gave another wet pull and went to lie down when the bedside lamp snapped on. He stiffened and turned to Aziraphale. “Won't you just blow your nose?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Don'd need do,” Crowley lied through his teeth. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Fine, make a mess of yourself. You're cleaning it up, though.”

“Well hasn'd some one godden snadpy in his old adge?” Aziraphale only responded by flopping back down, his back facing Crowley. “Whadever.” He gave another long, wet snuffle to spite his angel, who let out a husky breath and Crowley snickered. Aziraphale, almost lightening fast, tackled the sniggering demon and straddled his hips, one hand holding his two hands above his head. With his other hand, he roughly pushed some tissues to Crowley's nose.

“Blow,” the Principality boomed, some of his grace leaking into his voice, his eyes practically glowing. Crowley's eye twitched and hissed,

“God damn, you're ssso toudchy.” This made Aziraphale growl. Crowley felt his wrists burning and yelped, Aziraphale was practically leaking grace.

Aziraphale instantaneously withdrew, reeling his grace in and face softening. “Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. Please forgive me, love. Are you alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale went about rambling and brought the demon's wrists to his lips, murmuring apologies between kisses, some in languages he knew, others he'd never heard.

“Andgel?” Crowley whispered, his voice lost in the angel's apologies. “Andgel.” The blonde looked up, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. “I... Heh...” The angel brought the tissues back to his love's face, gentler this time. “Ah... Heh'tch'KUH!” The sneeze had completely soaked the tissues with a huge fluidy glob of bright green mucus. Careful not to squeeze the mess out, Aziraphale dropped it into the trash bin. He took a few more tissues and held them to Crowley's running nose and his demon blew, it took a few more to completely empty his nose and by the end, it was red and irritated.

“I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to—I was just—I apologize, love. I-I—”

“Shut up!” Crowley said, stopping the crying angel. He gently moved Aziraphale off of him and sat up, moving to sit cross-legged. “I... L-love you, 'Zira...” He still had a hard time with the word, but he meant it nonetheless. The angel placed his hand behind the demon's neck and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on Crowley's lips, whose eyes widened and pushed away. “Quit that! You'll get sick!” he said, bringing his hand to the angel's cheek, thumb running over his bottom lip, as if he was able to wipe the germs away.

“Who cares, dear?”

“I care! Bless, 'Zira! Don't you care about yourself at all?”

“I'm not vain.” Crowley's jaw dropped and he gave an incredulous look to the angel.

“Vanity is completely different than caring about your health!” Crowley shouted, this earned him a painful coughing fit, and he bent at the waist. Aziraphale hit his back and straightened him out, hoping that it would help. He lowered himself into a laying position and curled into himself, the coughs slowing. Aziraphale got out of bed and fetched the thermometer, putting it in Crowley's mouth.

“Keep it under your tongue, honey, I'll be back with some water.” When he walked back into the room, the thermometer beeped and he slid it out of the demon's mouth and held it to the dim light of the bedside lamp. “110.5. This would've killed a human by now... Dear, how do you feel?” He looked back at the demon and saw the shadowed figure jerking. He moved closer and saw that he had his eyes clamped shut and small rivets of tears were streaked down his cheeks. It took him a moment before he realized that his demon was crying.

“I hate thisss...” he said between sobs. “I'm uselesss and-and my body hurtsss and I'm obnoxiousssss and I can't fathom why you love me, angel!” Aziraphale frowned and bit his lip, he hated seeing his love this way. “You-you're an angel... You don't dessserve a demon, you-you're perfect and I'm flawed and petty and ssselfisshh! I'm a demon! I-I'm ssorry... I ssshhould leave.” Crowley stood and ignored his bout of vertigo, running out into the bookstore.

“Oh, no, you don't. Aziraphale flashed in front of him and swept him up into his arms. He carried him back to the bed bridal-style. “I love you because you have a wonderful personality. You're funny in a snarky way. Yes, you're a demon, but you just change into the most amazing man I've ever met when we're alone. I'd spend centuries-and I have-with you acting like an ass to have an hour of that perfect man. I stopped the apocalypse with you! Do you know why? It's called unconditional love! Bless, dear! Why don't you see? I love you because you're you!” He kissed Crowley sweetly and wiped the tears from his face. “Let's get you some Aspirin and get some sleep, yeah?”

Crowley whimpered his agreement, feeling small but loved as he scrubbed at his eyes like a child.

[VoOs]

Oh, Good Omens... *happy sigh* What is it with these two that make them so damn slash-able?

This is so many kinds of wonderful. You are an excellent writer.

[pinknose]

And then you made it even MORE cute! My brain is frying over here!!

[Parksborn]

Okay, you guys, here's another update-type-thingy. It get's a little bit more, er, intense in this part, so, uh, I'm really nervous about posting this. I don't appreciate flames so please just stop reading the thread if you don't like what I wrote this time. Zira's little flip out is sorta explained in this one, he went off because he just didn't understand. I hope you guys like, I mean, this is kinda a big leap from what I've usually been writing. This is also kind of embarrassing, I don't know, I'm just nervous.

I don't own GO, but I do own all mistakes.

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Usually, he didn't drink alone. Then again, usually, he wasn't hiding from his angel. But here he was, finishing up a bottle of wine in his apartment all alone. He noticed it a couple of days ago, how his head sometimes ached a little, how his usual smug, brisk walk was slowing, how he slept more than usual. He also noticed how his throat was sensitive and how if he breathed too hard, he'd get thrown into a coughing fit. This again? he'd thought, That's just wonderful.

So now his condition was getting slowly worse and he dreaded the thought of meeting Aziraphale tomorrow afternoon. He'd already canceled once, and Aziraphale would know that something was up as soon as he called to cancel again. Although, he was pretty sure that Aziraphale would catch on even before they ordered anything. He figured that if he tried hard enough, then he could cover it up. The little demon that could, he thought and laughed slightly to himself. He made sure that he sobered up before stepping into his old and worn black and white plaid pajama pants and slipped out of his shirt, throwing it into the corner of the room.

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Crowley stumbled out of his bed when his alarm sounded and blessed sharply when his foot got tangled in the covers and he ended up playing kissy-face with the floor. “The start of a bloody amazing day,” he grumbled sarcastically. He groaned when he felt a warm liquid trickle down his upper lip. He took a little longer to get dressed and ready because he couldn't stop the blood coming from his abused nose. “I'm gonna be late,” he said, his voice gravely as he threw the bloody dish cloth on the counter, rushing out of his flat. He stopped and held his head, leaning against the locked door to his place. He felt an all too familiar tickle in his nose form. “I'm so-ihhh... Screw-hehh... Ahhh... kuhchEW!” He scrubbed at the under side of his nose with the heel of his palm before continuing to The Ritz.

He got there rather quickly and without any sort of dilemma, beside the occasional sneeze, which were coming too often for his liking. He walked straight to their usual table, knowing Aziraphale would already be there. He felt the growing tightness of his chest and throat when he sat down with the blonde angel. He tried to keep his breaths steady, feeling the phlegm rattle in his chest as he breathed. He really hoped he could just get through lunch without a hitch and go back to his overly large, comfy bed. It's not that he didn't enjoy spending time with his beloved, but he could do that once he was better again.

He didn't notice the look Aziraphale gave him as he flopped down into his chair. “What's the matter, dear?” Aziraphale asked, reaching across the small table and laying his hand on the demon's. His question was answered when Crowley lost control of his breathing and coughed gratingly. Aziraphale purse his lips and stood, guiding his coughing demon out of his chair and ushering him out of the restaurant. When they were outside, the coughing still hadn't stopped. Aziraphale patted his back, hoping to ease the attack. When Crowley stopped, he reached his hand to feel his forehead but the demon jerked away.

“I'm fide,” he snapped.

“Obviously, no, you're not, dear. Please don't be difficult.”

“I'b dot bei-hihh... diffic-uhhh-difficul-iihhh... Itch'UH!” Crowley sniffled and rubbed a finger under his nose.

“C'mon, your place or mine?” Aziraphale asked as he linked his arm with his demon's. Said demon sighed, giving in, the thought of his soft bed winning.

“Mide,” he said softly. Aziraphale hummed his agreement and smiled as Crowley slid his arm around the angel's waist, pulling him closer.

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He was put into his pajamas as soon as they entered his room, keeping the lights off due to his growing headache. “I need to get the meds from last time from the shop, will you be okay until I get back, dear?” Crowley nodded sleepily as he slipped between the black satin sheets. The run was quick but when Aziraphale entered the dim bedroom again, the sound of Crowley's congested snores met him. He felt himself shiver, but he was still unable to name the feeling that shot through him whenever he heard his lover sneeze of sniffle. He moved to set the bag of medication down on the bedside table when he heard Crowley say congestedly,

“'Zira?”

“Yes, it's me, dear.”

“Mb'cold.” Aziraphale smirked.

“I'll be right over, but first, we're taking your temperature.” Crowley gave an unintelligible grunt and Aziraphale took that as an 'okay.' He fished out the thermometer and made his way over to his sick demon. He gently brushed raven locks from his amber eyes with gentle fingertips. Crowley opened his mouth only slightly, allowing Aziraphale to slide it under his tongue. When it beeped, the angel took the thermometer and clucked his tongue, shaking his head, his shiny blonde curls swaying. “It's 112. Just how long have you been hiding this from me?”

“Mmmm... Dursday.” Aziraphale had to pause a moment, thinking of what day it was.

“It's Satur... Crowley! Why would you do that?” he chided, his face disbelieving. He sighed and gave Crowley's heated forehead a gentle kiss then gave him some Aspirin for his fever.

“Didn'd wadda boder you,” Crowley replied after taking the pills.

“You're not bothering me, dear,” Aziraphale said. If anything, I actually like doing this, he thought. He grabbed a bottle of salve for Crowley's red nose.

“I'b dot puttigg dat od by dose, 'Zira.”

“Please don't be difficult.”

“I'b dot being difficuldt.” Crowley argued.

“I'm putting it on you anyways,” Aziraphale said, unscrewing the bottle and straddling the demon's hips, then spreading some of minty salve under Crowley's nose. He slipped under the satiny sheets and Crowley snuggled up against him. Soon, he's sniffling and Aziraphale still can't name this strangely good feeling that continues to shoot through him.

“I'b sorry-ihhh... I'b dot attracdive ligk-hiihhh-dis.” Crowley's trying hard to stop the sneeze, and Aziraphale squirms. Crowley pushes a hand against Aziraphale's chest, his face scrunched up with the need to sneeze. “'Zira...”

“Yes?” the angel asked, feigning ignorance. He couldn't help but smirk.

“I'b godda...”

“What?” Aziraphale asks, pulling his demon close.

“Quid dat-hhiiihh-! Hit'KUH!” He opened his eyes just slightly and saw the grin on his angel's face, snuffling thickly and he watched as the angel writhed. Then he catches on. “'Zira?”

Aziraphale hums then asks, “Yes, dear?” His voice is husky and Crowley has never seen his angel like this before. Next thing his fevered brain registered is the fact that Aziraphale was straddling his hips and placed a tissue to his irritated nose. “Blow for me, dear,” Aziraphale whispered into his ear, his hot breath making Crowley shudder with vague pleasure. The demon obeyed the angel's gruff request and he fills the first tissue with a rush of warm air and moisture. He reached for another tissue and grinned when he heard Crowley's breathing go sporadic.

“'Ziraaahhh...” Crowley inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared, red and irritated.

“Yeah?” he asked innocently, taking his time plucking another tissue.

“I-iihhhhh... I'b-hehhh...” Crowley groaned breathily and tried to contain his sneeze. Aziraphale gently put the tissue to his face and rubbed the side of Crowley's nostril softly. “Hahhh-Quid id!”

“Just sneeze already.”

“Don'd waddaahhhh...” Finally, the urge to sneeze is gone and Crowley sighed. “Mb'tired. Go to bed,” he ordered his angel, who was just about to get out of the large bed. Aziraphale sighed and ended up snuggling into his lover, his blonde head tucked just under Crowley's chin. He was just not used to being the dominant. He groaned when the demon sneezed, the hot air and spray falling on his cheek. He inhaled his lover's comforting scent, which smelled lightly of a musky cinnamon. He fell into slumber with his demon, inching ever closer to his warm body.

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Aziraphale's eyelashes fluttered open at the sound of Crowley groaning. He looked up and Crowley smiled at him sheepishly. “Id's stugck,” he said. Aziraphale smiled sleepily and layed a feather light kiss on the side of his nose. “Ehhh... Uhn, still.” Aziraphale kissed his demon's lips then rubbed his nose against Crowley's, Aziraphale grinned when his breath hitched, his own breath hitching for an entirely different reason. Crowley groaned when nothing came, but Aziraphale wasn't done.

He ran his thumb over the arch of Crowley's nostril and pressed another feathery kiss to the tip of his nose. “Ahh... kuhh-PTSHCH!” Aziraphale grinned against Crowley's neck and nosed his way back to the demon's lips. “Stop id! You're godda get sigk!” he shouted, pushing against Aziraphale's chest.

“I didn't get sick last time, dear.”

“Last dibe you weren'd geddigg all horny, eider!”

Aziraphale brought his lips to the rim of Crowley's ear and said, “Oh well...” His hot breath sent shivers through the sick demon. He gave a long, wet, gurgling snuffle and felt his angel shudder then let out a breathy moan. “Oh, Crowley...” The said demon smirked at just how easily he could reduce his angel into nothing. He sucked more snot in and grinned as his angel let out a shaky breath. He flipped them, and straddled the shuddering angel.

“You ligk thad?” he asked, his voice congested. Aziraphale whimpered a small 'yes' and Crowley licked his lips. His eyelids slid half-mast as his breath hitched. “Uhhnnn... I'b godda...”

“Oh, yes, I know.” Aziraphale squirmed and bit his bottom lip.

“Uh-iihhh... Mmmm... Ehhh...” He peered down at his angel, who was staring back at him, biting his lip in anticipation. He also noted that somewhere along the way, they both lost their shirts. “HehhHHH...” Aziraphale whimpered, wiggling beneath him. “Hihh... Hitch'UH!” His head pitched forward with the force of the sneeze and sprayed his angel's abdomen.

“Ohhh...” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's face with two hands and pressed his lips firmly to the demon's.

“Now, now, doh toudching. I don'd wand you sigk.” Aziraphale grabbed the back of his neck anyways and brought him down to him, placing a tissue to his nose.

“Blow,” Aziraphale said huskily. Crowley complied and filled the tissue, then again with another tissue the angel held to his nose. Aziraphale wiped Crowley's nose before the demon sat back up.

“Hehh... Z-'Zira... I god to sdeeze so bad.” He grinned as his angel whimpered underneath him, trying so hard to keep his hands to himself. “Huh-ketchshew! Huuhhh... So itdchy and-iiihhhh” Crowley panted, trying to tease his lover as much as possible. “Uhhhhnnn... KetchEW!” He sneezed, and gave a long, slurpy pull, hearing Aziraphale squeal. “You ligk thad, h-huh?” He smirked as the angel nodded fervently, eyes wide with desire. He could see the blush high on the angel's pale cheeks, and feel his heavy breathing.

His cock twitched as he watched his lover mewl when he snuffled again. Aziraphale bucked his hips and wished that he could ravage his demon. Luckily, though, Crowley couldn't control himself any longer and beat him to it.

[pinknose]

Drooling so much over this.

So. Freaking. Hot!

[Parksborn]

Really? You think so, pinknose? Thank you! At least I can rest easier knowing that someone liked it.

[Akahana]

HOLY SHIT THAT WAS SEXY AS HELL!!!!!! <3333333333 Do you think you can post what you wrote about Zira being all sniffly? I really want to read it~

[NameTaken]

Yeah. This story is wonderful. You don't have to worry about what I think about it, that's for sure. And I definitely need to read the book now.

Also, aghhh, I love thick sniffling, and the way you desrcibe it/include so much of it is heavenly. Can't wait for more!

[GeldingWest]

HOLY... please please write more. *puts story in my top 5 list*

[Parksborn]

You guys are so sweet to me! I'll post the next part in a little bit, I just have to edit it.

[Parksborn]

So, this one's dedicated to Akahana, who wanted me to post some sick!Zira. I feel like shit for not writing on this for months. Sorry you guys.

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“Hello?” Crowley called into the bookshop, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Aitchoo...” came a small, soft sneeze from the back room. “Uhhmm... We're closed! Come back later!” Aziraphale shouted, and Crowley shook his head, smiling. He made his way towards the back, and as he got closer, he heard small, stifled sneezes. “Ah'chngk. Eh'ttck.” He stopped and listened as he heard his angel pant softly. “Uh'kngk.” He sniffled and Crowley smirked. He crept up behind his lover's hunched figure that jerked with each stifled spasm and swept him up into his arms, bridal-style. Aziraphale gave a small, surprised squeak and sneezed openly, “Atchuh!”

“I told you so, Angel,” he whispered softly into Aziraphale's ear. The angel just rubbed at his eye like a child and snuggled into his demon's chest, sniffling.

“It's cold and I'm sleepy...” Aziraphale murmured into Crowley's warm chest.

“You wanna go back to my place?” he asked softly, kissing the angel's fevered forehead.

“Yeah,” he whispered, and tried to nuzzle further into the warmth Crowley brought. The demon carried him outside and into the Bentley then set him gently in the passenger's side. When he hopped behind the wheel, he felt Aziraphale rest his head in his lap. He couldn't help but smile as the angel curled up into himself, he sifted his slender fingers through blonde locks and smiled again when he heard his angel hum in contentment.

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“C'mon, baby, just stay awake long enough to into bed,” Crowley pleaded. Aziraphale gave a soft 'I'll try.' When he finally got his angel into the black satin sheets, Crowley rummaged through the bag of medicine Aziraphale left there last time he was sick. “How do you feel, Angel?”

“My head hurds and I'b all studffy...” Aziraphale replied miserably, his voice soft and small.

“Okay, here's some meds, they'll help.” Crowley said and placed the pills in the angel's hand and the angel dropped them into his mouth. Crowley pressed the rim of a cold glass to Aziraphale's lips and said, “Take a sip.” His lover complied and snuggled into the bed when he was finished. Crowley pressed his lips to the angel's fevered forehead and frowned. “Mmmm, you're really warm, how long?”

“Yesterday.” Crowley just shook his head and crawled into the bed, instantly having his angel snuggle with him.

“Next time, you tell me, okay? I don't want you like this, angel.” Aziraphale murmured his apology and sniffled before falling sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------- ---------

Aziraphale jolted upright, and sneezed openly, “Ah'sheew!” It was small and soft, like all of his others.

“Hey there, Angel. I've got ya somethin'” Crowley said, holding a steaming mug. Aziraphale smiled softly and looked happy, but be should look miserable. Well, honestly, he sure felt it. His head hurt, his nose was stuffed up, but running at the same time, and his throat hurt, but he was just glad that Crowley was here, taking care of him. Crowley sat beside him and handed him the mug, Aziraphale wrapped his hands around it and gave Crowley a gentle smile.

“Thangs,” he said, and took a sip of the chocolatey beverage. The warmth soothed his irritated throat and the sweetness was greatly appreciated. Crowley kissed his temple gently, a slow, lingering kiss.

“You've still got a fever,” the demon whispered and twisted a strand of golden hair around his finger before grabbing him some Aspirin.

That's the amazing guy I love... That's the amazing guy who loves me back, Aziraphale thought contentedly, a small smile still lingering on his face.

“I think you're a little twisted,” Crowley said, and sat in front of him, cross-legged.

“Hmm? Why?” Aziraphale asked, a little surprised.

“You're grinning like a moron and you're sick. I know you've got a headache and I could feel the rumble in your breathing. You have to feel like shit.”

Aziraphale hummed and bobbed his head. “I do,” he said simply. Crowley gave a small laugh, then broke out with more laughter.

“You... You're a little messed up,” Crowley laughed.

“M'cold,” Aziraphale murmured before slipping under the covers, laying on his stomach. Crowley knew that excuse. But instead of cuddling, he had a better idea. He straddled his angel's hips and started to slide his shirt off. “Crowley, please, I'm tired,” Aziraphale said, having his shirt magicked away anyways. He was about to protest when his demon started to massage his sore muscles with warm hands.

“You like that?” Crowley asked, moving down to his lower back.

“Mmmhmmm...”

“Yeah, I figured.” He bent down and kissed his lover's cheek, continuing to work his sore muscles.

[pinknose]

I... I missed you. *tears of joy* Heheheheh >:3 Sick!Zira.