Untitled
a Watchmen story
by nichtgesund

Walter Kovacs shoved past a scantily-dressed hooker, ignoring her shouted obscenities that followed him down the street. He felt like hell. He'd been feeling a cold encroaching on him for the past week, but today he'd awoken to find it had hit him full-force. He hadn't stopped sneezing since he'd risen, much to the chagrin of the local newsy when he went to get his paper, who had shouted at him to 'get the hell outta here before you make everybody sick'. Ordinarily he might have been more annoyed at that, but today he felt too tired to fight back and had left without an argument.

Christ, he could really use some hot coffee right now. He could feel an annoying tickle fluttering around the back of his throat, threatening to get him coughing at any moment, but he kept swallowing it back because he knew if he started coughing he'd end up sneezing his head off, and he wasn't in the mood for that.

But the itch wasn't going away, and realizing it was a losing battle, he ducked into an alley and coughed lightly into the sleeve of his coat, as quietly as possible. It only seemed to aggravate the feeling, though, and he coughed harder, involuntarily, wincing at the sharp pain in his lungs.

It still wasn't letting up, though, and now he was having a hard time catching his breath. He pressed his hand to the wall for support, feeling slightly dizzy, still coughing hard.

His chest was aching, his throat afire, but no matter how he tried he couldn't seem to catch his breath. His ears were so full that he could barely hear the congested, phlegmy sound of his own coughing. He was beginning to worry about passing out from lack of oxygen when the persistent itch in his throat suddenly swelled into his sinuses, and he sneezed violently, three times in succession. "Ehhschuh! EHSCHUH! HuhESCHOO!"

It sent his head and ears pounding agonizingly, but it seemed to clear out his lungs and he was finally able to pull in a sufficient breath. He leaned against the rough brick wall, half bent over with his hands on his knees, wheezing and sweating in the cold night air.

"Jesus," he muttered when he'd finally caught his breath, wiping the drool and snot off his face onto the cuff of his trenchcoat. He was worried this cold was starting to encroach into the territory of pneumonia, which was definitely not something he needed, especially considering the kind of lifestyle he lived. But there was no way he was going to some quack doctor.

He sighed. He knew there was somewhere he could go - maybe the only place he could go - but he was not happy to admit defeat. Still, he didn't think he would do well spending another night on the streets. He fished around in his pocket for a moment, extracting a silver key on a small scrap of chain. Daniel had given it to him some months ago, apparently to deter him from simply kicking his door in, as he usually did.

Sighing, he pulled on his mask and headed down the alley towards Daniel's building.

Dan returned from Hollis' around 10 PM, picking up a stack of mail from the corner by the door and flipping through it. He'd had a pleasant evening with his friend, a feeling that had lingered on his way back, but as he crossed the hallway towards the kitchen a strange sense of apprehension came over him. He frowned, wondering where that had come from. He could see nothing out of place here, so he paused open the kitchen door, turned on the light -

And found Rorschach leaning against his refrigerator.

"Rorschach!" Dan yelped, so surprised that he dropped his mail, the envelopes falling at his feet.

Rorschach wheezed. "Hello, Daniel."

"Jesus, you scared me!" Dan exclaimed, trying to regain his composure. He looked the other man over. "What are you doing here?"

"Needed a place to crash. Nowhere else to go." Rorschach started to say more but fell into a dangerous-sounding coughing spell instead. A wave of dizziness suddenly passed over him, hot and fuzzy. His legs began to buckle, his hand sliding down the side of the 'fridge as he slumpt.

"Whoa!" Dan grabbed him under the arm, straightened him. "Are you alright?"

"Just a cold... Ehhschuh!" He barely managed to contain the sneeze in his elbow, narrowly missing Dan with the spray, which penetrated even through his mask.

Dan frowned. "Doesn't sound like just a cold." He grimaced as he saw the spreading wet spot between the black inkblots. "Maybe you should take off that mask."

"Not taking it off."

Dan sighed. "Rorschach - "

Rorschach interrupted him with another sneeze before he could say anything else. It sent his head throbbing so badly that he had to grab Dan's shoulder just to keep from falling down. Blackness flowed and ebbed at the edges of his vision, like the whorls of inkblot patterns on his mask. He felt hot and dizzy, but it felt good somehow, and though he heard Dan calling his name, he ignored it and let himself slip into the sweet, dark abyss.

He awoke in warm darkness - the same place he'd found himself just before he lost consciousness - only now he could feel the softness of a bed beneath him. He lifted his head, peered into the darkness, saw nothing but heard the soft sound of another person breathing. "Daniel?" he rasped.

There was an incoherent mumbling somewhere to the right of him, then he heard Dan's familiar voice say, "Oh, good, you're awake," as he clicked on the light.

Rorschach winced, feeling the light burning behind his eyes, threatening a sneeze. It eased off after a moment though and he blinked blearily, seeing Dan seated in an old-fashioned velvet armchair across from him, adjusting his glasses. Clearly he had fallen asleep waiting for his friend to come around again. Rorschach wondered how long he'd been out; it must have been several hours, if Dan was asleep as well.

Suddenly he felt the cool breeze of the fan against the bare skin of his jawline. His hand shot up. "My face -"

"I didn't take your mask off," Dan said calmly, seeing where the conversation was headed. "I had to pull it up over your mouth so you could breathe." He raised his sharp brows at him pointedly. "And over your nose, because you kept -sneezing- all over it."

Rorschach scowled. "Sound like my mother." That wasn't true, though. His mother had never cared enough to say anything like that. Looking at it that way, Dan's good-natured scolding seemed almost... nice.

He sniffed, pulling himself up slightly in the bed, looking down to see his chest was bare. Feeling a bit apprehensive, he lifted the edge of the blanket only to find that his pants were gone too - and his boxers. "Care to tell me why clothes are gone?" he asked Dan flatly.

Dan looked up at him innocently. "You had a fever. I had to cool you off."

"And this resulted in me being naked in your bed."

Dan glared at him, but a slight blush did tinge his cheeks. "I had to take off your clothes to give you a sponge bath." Seeing the look Rorschach was giving him, Dan added quickly, "It was the only way I knew to cool you down."

Rorschach imagined himself lying naked in Dan's bed, Dan's hands all over his body, sluicing water over his chest and belly and... elsewhere. He shuddered.

Dan smirked, clearly seeing where the other man's mind was going. "That's right, buddy - I know every inch of you. Now I know those freckles don't stop at your face."

"Shut up, asshole." Then a perturbed expression crossed his face; his shook his head slightly, looking quite out of sorts.

"What's wrong?"

"Gotta... Eh - gotta sneeze..." No sooner had he said this did he do so, barely catching it in his cupped hands. "Ehschuh!"

"God," Dan interjected. "That was a hell of a sneeze. Do you need a tissue?"

"No, just - EHSCHUH! HUHESCHUH!! - just... gimme a minute." He snorted back the snot loudly, making Dan grimace.

"Rorschach..."

"Said I'm fine, Dan," Rorschach said sharply, only to sneeze yet again, even ore wetly than before. "EHHSCHOO!"

Dan heaved a sigh, exasperated. "For god's sake, Rorschach, just blow your nose already!" He threw a box of tissues at the other man; it bounced off his arm and landed at his feet. "You're not going to be able to stop sneezing until you do anyway."

Rorschach cast him a scathing glare, but he bent and grabbed a handful of tissues anyway, blowing his nose loudly and thourally. His sinuses were so stuffed up though that it made him cough, and the rattling, deeply congested sound made Dan wince. "You should really see a doctor," he told his friend. "Nobody knows your face - it wouldn't be any risk..."

"Not going to a doctor," Rorschach snapped, still breathing hard from the coughing spell. "Just a cold anyway. Has to run it's course."

"And what if it's -not- a cold?" Dan demanded, growing angry. "What if it's something worse? Like pneumonia? You're not 20 years old anymore, for fuck's sake! This is serious!"

Rorschach glared but said nothing. Behind his stubbornness, Dan could tell he was thinking the same thing. Dan sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Christ, Rorschach - you're living on the streets, you're sleeping on park benches, you're eating god knows what..." He swiped a hand through his hair defeatedly. "You've got to take better care of yourself, man." He paused, then added quietly, "I worry about you."

A long silence; then he was surprised to feel Rorschach's hand on top of his own. "Didn't mean to worry you," he said in his gruff voice. Dan looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes, but he still met only the black inkblots.

They stared at each other a moment longer, then Rorschach abruptly turned away, his cheeks flushing where Dan could see the skin. "Need to take shower," he said brusquely, standing up and heading for the bathroom without asking permission.

"Oh," Dan stammered, feeling himself blushing hotly. "Uh, yeah, of course. There's some towels under the sink -"

But Rorschach had already shut the door on him, and now he could hear the water running. Dan sighed. This wasn't going at all how he'd hoped. He wasn't sure what exactly he had been hoping for, but... it wasn't this.

He got up and headed into the kitchen to make dinner.

Dan was standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of soup, when Rorschach emerged from the shower. He obviously hadn't heard him enter; Rorschach cleared his throat.

Dan started, turning around. To his great surprise, Rorschach was standing in the doorway in a wifebeater shirt and some baggy black slacks - and no mask. His red hair was rumpled, blue eyes tinged pink in the whites; the freckled skin of his arms and chest looked unnaturally pale in the florescent light.

"Oh! Uh, hey! I mean, how are you feeling?" Dan stammered foolishly, not hiding his surprise well at all.

"Borrowed some clothes from dresser," Rorschach said with uncharacteristic shyness. "Hope you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all." Dan cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Uh, are you hungry? I made some soup..."

"Could eat." He pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table without waiting for an invitation. He sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, watching Dan idly from the corner of his eye. "Very domestic of you, Daniel."

"What can I say," Dan said with a smile, ladling some soup into a bowl and turning to set it before Rorschach. "I guess I'll make somebody a great wife someday." He realized the irony of the statement as soon as he said it, but luckily Rorschach didn't seem to find anything remarkable about it, and he remained silent.

"Hope you like chicken - " Dan started to say as he sat down, but it was hardly necessary - Rorschach downed the soup in four huge gulps, not even bothering with the spoon but instead lifting the bowl to his mouth and simply drinking it. Dan peered at him as he set the bowl down again and wiped away the residue with the back of his hand.

"Sorry," Rorschach muttered when he'd finally noticed the way Dan was looking at him.

"No, no, it's fine," Dan said embarrassedly, though he wasn't sure exactly why -he- felt embarrassed. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat. "Um, did you want anything else? I'm sure I've got something in the pantry I can heat up if you - "

"No need," Rorschach interrupted, rising from his seat unceremoniously. "Thanks for food. Gonna catch a few z's, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not," Dan said quickly, trying not to stare at the vaguely defined shape of the redhead's small, tight ass through the oversized trousers as he walked back towards the bedroom. "If you need anything, just let me know."

Rorschach grunted an incoherent reply before disappearing into the darkness of Dan's bedroom. He'd left the door open, but with the kitchen light on and the bedroom and hall lights off, Dan couldn't see anything.

'Wish I had my night-vision goggles,' and though he was slightly embarrassed at thinking it, he allowed himself a private smile.

When he ventured into the bedroom again an hour or so later, Rorschach was again asleep on the bed, still in the clothes he'd borrowed (Dan hadn't indulged himself in retrieving his goggles, but had turned on the bathroom light instead). He had just finished brushing his teeth and was about to leave for the living room, intending on bedding down on the couch, when he heard a hoarse voice whisper, "Daniel."

Dan paused, not entirely sure he'd heard it. Curious, he said quietly, "Rorschach?"

"F-f-freezing," came the broken reply, and now Dan could hear the sound of chattering teeth.

"Jesus," he muttered, throwing on the light. Rorschach was curled in a tight ball at the edge of the bed, shivering visibly. Dan hurried to the hall closet, grabbing an extra blanket before returning to throw it over the other man.
"What happened?" Dan asked, growing increasingly concerned.

"Don't know," Rorschach growled through shuddering breaths. "Just woke up... and was... f-fucking freezing."

The blanket didn't seem to be doing any good, and Dan was getting worried. He was unsure if he ought to suggest what he had in mind, but at the moment he didn't see any other alternative.

"Rorschach," he said, pulling up the blankets even as he spoke, "I'm gonna have to get in there with you."

Rorschach peered up at him from where his head was tucked tight against his chest. "That how you... get your jollies, Daniel?"

Dan glared at him indignantly, though he knew he was probably blushing. "If you want to freeze to death, go ahead. Nobody said you had to stay here, you know."

"Just fucking do it," Rorschach growled, still shivering violently.

Dan crawled into the bed, pressing his body alongside the smaller man's. He was caught up in a strange tempest of emotions, feeling at once embarrassed and aroused, frightened and excited, hungry for the slender body he felt next to him and yet afraid to take a taste. He lay there stiffly, hoping he'd be able to warm up his friend without actually touching him too much.

"What's wrong with you?" Rorschach snapped in annoyance, shoving his ass back against Dan's hips. "Get over here. So fucking cold."

Dan jumped, feeling more awkward than ever. "Um, maybe I should turn up the heat a little or something..." He was seriously regretting letting himself give in to his desire to be in bed with Rorschach now; and if he didn't get out of there soon, Rorschach was sure to find out that his intentions had been more than just a 'friendly gesture'.

Suddenly the trembling body next to him grew rigidly still. Too late. Clearly Rorschach had finally noticed Dan's hard-on.

"Uh, Rorschach, I can explain..." Dan started, though he realized he -couldn't- explain. And even if he could, he didn't want to.

"I'm sorry," he said embarrassedly, pushing the blankets off of himself as he made for escape. "I should go."

Then a cold hand on his arm, and a soft, low voice said, "Don't have to leave."

Dan stopped, staring at the other man blankly. Absurdly, he thought that this was some kind of joke. "Rorschach?"

"I said," the redhead spoke deliberately, "you don't have to leave." He looked Dan in the eye, boldness masking shyness. "If you don't want to."

Dan stood, frozen in place, unsure of what to do, what to say. He must have been sitting like that for a while because Rorschach finally said, "Want to freeze to death, go ahead, Daniel. Nobody said you had to stay here."

Dan laughed nervously. He still wasn't sure if Rorschach was implying what he thought he was, if this was even really happening at all or just some wild dream, but he pulled back the blankets and slid once again into bed with the other man.

"Rorschach... I... I don't..."

But then a burning pair of lips descended over his own, wetness passing between them, and all reasoning betrayed him. He grabbed Rorschach by the wrists, rolling over on top of him, pinning him to the bed, hungrily kissing his mouth, his tongue delving deep in a long, burning kiss that only ended because both of them needed air.

Rorschach stared up at him, smiling slightly. "You'll catch my cold."

"I don't care," Dan whispered breathlessly, his hands fervently pulling up the white wifebeater, smoothing over hot, fevered skin.

"Might be something worse. Like pneumonia."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Might sneeze on you instead."

"Go ahead."

To his surprise, Rorschach laughed at that, and then those cold, rough hands were sliding up his own shirt, aggressively pulling at his nipples and clawing his back, leaving long scratches as teeth closed on his shoulder. The mixture of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, and Dan found himself wanting to feel those teeth on his neck, to have that rabid mouth closed over his throat.

"Oh god... Rorschach - " He tried to communicate his desires to the other man, but then those hot, fever-cracked lips were devouring his own, stifling his words. The redhead's hands were still busy, pulling open the buttons of Dan's shirt, and Dan's own hands left the other man's flesh to clumsily undo his fly, freeing his swollen cock. He struggled out of his shirt, throwing it aside, then wriggled out of his trousers as well, all the while planting kisses on the freckled skin of Rorschach's chest and belly whenever he was close enough.

"Seem well-prepared," Rorschach smirked when Dan had finished undressing.

"I want you," Dan whispered, hardly aware of what he was saying. "I've always wanted you."

"Cut the lovey-dovey crap, Daniel," Rorschach growled, and in one deft movement he had Dan flat on his belly and was straddling his thighs. Dan felt him pulling the wifebeater over his head, heard the sharp sound of a zipper disengaging, and after a moment felt the warm flesh of Rorschach's legs pressed to his own.

"Oh god..." he moaned softly, overcome with wanton yearning. "Please..."

"Don't have to beg me, Daniel." He felt those hands roughly gripping his ass, thumb slipping inside to graze the sensitive opening.

"Wait," Dan gasped, caught between burning need and frightened uncertainty. "Don't we need some kind of... lubrication or something?"

Rorschach growled, spat in his hand. Dan bit back a cry of pleasure as he felt those slick fingers begin to penetrate. Then he felt something larger pressing against him, stretching that virginal orifice, and this time he couldn't help but cry out as Rorschach buried his thick cock deep inside him.

"You okay?" Rorschach murmured behind him, though Dan scarcely heard him.

"Yes... Yes, just... don't stop..."

That was all the encouragement Rorschach needed. His fingers dug sharply into Dan's shoulders, and he thrust his hips forward violently, burying himself inside the other man so deeply that Dan moaned aloud. The pain only enhanced the pleasure though, and the feeling of that hard cock filling his very entrails made him so horny he could barely stand it. He felt he might discharge then and there if Rorschach's hand so much as grazed his cock, but the redhead kept his hands clamped on his shoulders, holding him still as he brutally fucked him.

He let his own hand stray between his legs, beneath his arched hips, seeking his cock, but a hand on his shoulder abruptly seized his wrist and pulled it crushingly away. "Hands off, Daniel," Rorschach snarled, and though Dan was unsure if this was merely a game or something more dangerous, at the moment he didn't give a damn.

Rorschach's movements were beginning to grow more erratic, though nonetheless fierce, and Dan could tell that he, too, was close to coming. He longed to feel those rough fingers on his aching cock, but he was getting so close now just from the friction of their skin and the hot fullness of that hard cock inside of him that he thought he might discharge, untouched, at any minute.

Suddenly there was a pause in Rorschach's motion; Dan wanted to scream from pent-up energy and animalistic hunger. "What's wrong?" he managed to gasp.

A soft, quick intake of breath behind him. "Have to sneeze..."

Dan bit his lip, his balls feeling painfully tight, his cock ready to explode. "Just don't stop... Please... don't stop..."

And then he sneezed.

The force of it bent Rorschach abruptly double, spraying Dan's bare back with snot and spittle, but all the latter was aware of was the feeling of Rorschach's cock being thrust into him, deeper than ever, touching that sensitive spot deep inside, making him cry out in wordless pleasure and sending his cum spilling vehemently over the sheets.

Rorschach wasn't sure whether it was the sneeze itself of simply the violence of his movements that sent Dan over, but he hadn't time to think about it, as the nearly painful spasming of Dan's muscles around him soon sent his fuck squirting deep into the other man's belly.

When it was finally over, when they'd both drained themselves dry, they lay side by side on the sweat-dampened sheets, both breathing heavily. Dan half-expected Rorschach to light a cigarette or something, but when he glanced over at his friend, he saw he looked rather worse for the wear; he seemed paler than before, and he was shivering again.

"You okay?" Dan whispered shyly.

Rorschach nodded, sniffling wetly. "Just this damn cold."

Timidly, Dan reached over to pull the blankets up over the redhead's chest, then carefully laid his arm across the spot. To his surprise, Rorschach let him. He nuzzled closer, resting his head against his bare shoulder, and again found that Rorschach made no argument. After a minute Dan realized he'd fallen asleep.

Dan smiled, kissed the stubble-covered cheek tenderly. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, what Rorschach's reaction to tonight's goings-on might be, but at the moment, at least, he didn't care. This was enough.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Alan Moore. Please don't sue.