As a disclaimer? I'm not American, I've never come across poison ivy in my life. Just. Ignore the impossibilties in this thing and go with it, 'kay? :D?!
Kibum / Donghae / learning about plant biology one rash at a time / PG / 806 words
“Fuck,” hissed Donghae, touching a hand to his lower left-hand side and then pulling away sharply. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He tentatively tried it again, with the same result. “Fuck.”
Kibum paused as he walked into Donghae’s bedroom and stared at him. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I think I got a rash,” said Donghae.
“How could you possibly get a rash?” said Kibum, exasperated, as he set down his books onto Donghae’s desk, which was unused, at least by Donghae.
“We’re doing about plants in Biology,” said Donghae, and even as he talked to Kibum he was prodding at his skin. “And I think there was some poison ivy in the bunch of stuff the teacher gave us to look at, because now I’ve got a horrible rash on my back.”
There was a beat, and then Kibum said, “Donghae, how would poison ivy get onto your bare back?”
“Um,” said Donghae, grinning sheepishly at him. “It’s a long story?”
Kibum sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s have a look at it then.”
Wincing, Donghae slowly peeled his t-shirt off and turned around to let Kibum look at the damage. There was a long pause as Kibum stared. “Fuck, Donghae, it’s all over your back!”
“Shit,” said Donghae. “Shit, I’m going to kill Eunhyuk.” He turned around and noticed Kibum giving him a Look. “What?”
“What did you possibly do to make Eunhyuk stick poison ivy down your back?” asked Kibum. Donghae just blinked at him. “Don’t give me that, Eunhyuk isn’t the type of person to do willing damage without a reason.”
“Okay,” said Donghae, throwing his hands into the air. “I was teasing him about Tablo, and he just attacked me, I didn’t even have time to prepare myself.”
Kibum just kept looking at him.
“It was totally unfair,” mumbled Donghae.
Kibum sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You stay here, I’ll go see if I can find anything that I can put on it.”
Donghae’s parents were still out at work, so Kibum felt comfortable looking in the different cupboards around the house until he finally came across some anti-septic cream in one of the bathroom units. He brought that and a towel back into the bedroom, where Donghae was reaching behind to poke at the rash. “Would you leave it,” said Kibum, irritated. Donghae just frowned at him.
“It itches,” he said, and wiggled in an uncomfortable way.
“Of course it itches,” said Kibum, voice slightly softer, and he handed Donghae the towel. “Here, lie on your front on this.”
Donghae obeyed without saying anything, although he shifted every couple of seconds or so when he was lying down, the itching feeling clearly driving him mad. “I’m going to kill Eunhyuk,” he muttered again, voice dark. “You just see if I don’t.”
“Be quiet,” said Kibum, and he ran a finger thoughtfully over the raised bumps on Donghae’s skin. Donghae shivered.
Half an hour later, Kibum was sitting at the desk, making notes from a medical textbook while Donghae lay on his front, unable to move because of the cream on his back. “I’m bored,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Kibum, not listening.
“It doesn’t itch anymore though,” said Donghae. “That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah,” said Kibum again.
“You aren’t listening to me, are you,” said Donghae morosely. “I could be dying here and you just wouldn’t care.”
“The rash had stopped spreading,” said Kibum absently. “You weren’t going to have a worse reaction.”
“What kind of a worse reaction could I have?” asked Donghae, suddenly sounding interested.
“You could have had a severe allergic reaction and your throat would have closed up,” said Kibum.
“Cool!” said Donghae.
“And you’d have died,” pointed out Kibum. Donghae turned white.
“I’m going to kill Eunhyuk,” he said. “He tried to kill me.” Suddenly he jerked back and then back down onto the bed. “Fuck, ow, that really – ow, ow, fuck!” He reached back.
“Don’t fucking scratch at it,” said Kibum, throwing the textbook to the floor; clearly he wasn’t going to get anything done at this rate. He grabbed hold of Donghae’s wrist and held it up, so that Donghae was lying on one side, unable to move.
“But it’s itchy,” he wailed.
“Where,” said Kibum.
“My shoulder blade, the right one,” said Donghae, and Kibum reached over with his free hand and picked up the cooling gel that he had dug out of the same bathroom unit, unscrewed the top and motioned for Donghae to lie back down. Donghae did so, and Kibum rubbed a little of the gel into his shoulder blade. Donghae sighed happily, and Kibum just shook his head at him, in a way that was a little too fond than he wanted to admit.
“Honestly,” he said, sitting back down. “What would you do without me?”
“Die,” said Donghae cheerfully.
“Huh,” said Kibum thoughtfully.