I is for Irritated
Characters: Adam Rove and Joan Girardi
Rating: PG-13 (with one f-bomb)
Genre: Het
Summary: Adam has a cold
Character Age: approximately 25
Joaniverse: Could be Butterflies
"Pshooo!" A violent sneeze erupted from Adam's nose. He picked up a used tissue and blew his irritated nose. "Fuck! I had forgotten just much having a cold sucks."
Sitting on the couch next to him, Joan had to suppress a smile because he sounded kinda cute with the nasal voice. But then she reminded herself that it wasn't funny. Her husband was suffering. Though reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated.
Disgusted, he threw the wet tissue on the floor and scrunched up his face in expectation of another projectile sneeze. Joan quickly held the Kleenex box in his direction, waiting for the sneezing attack to pass. He quickly grabbed a fresh tissue and sneezed into it.
"Please, give me some tranquilizer and put a catheter in my nose until this passes. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he pleaded.
"Have you tried the nasal spray?"
"Yeah. Didn't help. At least not past the first five minutes."
"We need something to calm down that irritation in your respiratory tract."
"Maybe putting a tampon in my nose will help," he joked half-heartedly.
"Ew. No." She was quiet for a moment, then, "Wait, I have an idea."
She got up and rummaged around in the kitchen while Adam just lay his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he was a wisp of smoke or something else not quite so corporeal.
He woke from his reverie when she called his name. "Adam, honey, come in here."
"Do I have to?" he groaned.
"If you want some relief, yes."
"Okay," he grumbled and glumly got up.
"Sit down." Joan showed him to the kitchen table where a plastic bowl stood that was filled with hot, steaming water and something floating on it that looked like dried chamomile blossoms. A towel lay next to it.
"What's this?"
"Something my mom used to make for us when we were kids."
"I don't have to drink it, do I?"
She laughed. "No. It's a vapor-bath. You put the towel over the bowl and peek your head in. And then you breathe."
He still looked skeptical. "Okay," he said hesitantly.
"Come on, try it."
She helped him put the towel in place and watched him do as she had said. After a few breaths his head came out again, his cheeks flushed.
"It's really hot."
"Yeah, but it's supposed to be. Come on, keep doing it for a few minutes. It'll help."
"If you say so."
"Come on, you have to admit that it feels kinda good, don't you?"
She saw his head nod under the towel and a small smile crept into her features. He was getting there. She softly touched his back and rubbed it a little. "Keep going. I'll be upstairs if you need me."
His head came out again. "I will. Later. For the tranquilizers and the tampons."
Rating: PG-13 (with one f-bomb)
Genre: Het
Summary: Adam has a cold
Character Age: approximately 25
Joaniverse: Could be Butterflies
"Pshooo!" A violent sneeze erupted from Adam's nose. He picked up a used tissue and blew his irritated nose. "Fuck! I had forgotten just much having a cold sucks."
Sitting on the couch next to him, Joan had to suppress a smile because he sounded kinda cute with the nasal voice. But then she reminded herself that it wasn't funny. Her husband was suffering. Though reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated.
Disgusted, he threw the wet tissue on the floor and scrunched up his face in expectation of another projectile sneeze. Joan quickly held the Kleenex box in his direction, waiting for the sneezing attack to pass. He quickly grabbed a fresh tissue and sneezed into it.
"Please, give me some tranquilizer and put a catheter in my nose until this passes. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he pleaded.
"Have you tried the nasal spray?"
"Yeah. Didn't help. At least not past the first five minutes."
"We need something to calm down that irritation in your respiratory tract."
"Maybe putting a tampon in my nose will help," he joked half-heartedly.
"Ew. No." She was quiet for a moment, then, "Wait, I have an idea."
She got up and rummaged around in the kitchen while Adam just lay his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he was a wisp of smoke or something else not quite so corporeal.
He woke from his reverie when she called his name. "Adam, honey, come in here."
"Do I have to?" he groaned.
"If you want some relief, yes."
"Okay," he grumbled and glumly got up.
"Sit down." Joan showed him to the kitchen table where a plastic bowl stood that was filled with hot, steaming water and something floating on it that looked like dried chamomile blossoms. A towel lay next to it.
"What's this?"
"Something my mom used to make for us when we were kids."
"I don't have to drink it, do I?"
She laughed. "No. It's a vapor-bath. You put the towel over the bowl and peek your head in. And then you breathe."
He still looked skeptical. "Okay," he said hesitantly.
"Come on, try it."
She helped him put the towel in place and watched him do as she had said. After a few breaths his head came out again, his cheeks flushed.
"It's really hot."
"Yeah, but it's supposed to be. Come on, keep doing it for a few minutes. It'll help."
"If you say so."
"Come on, you have to admit that it feels kinda good, don't you?"
She saw his head nod under the towel and a small smile crept into her features. He was getting there. She softly touched his back and rubbed it a little. "Keep going. I'll be upstairs if you need me."
His head came out again. "I will. Later. For the tranquilizers and the tampons."