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Waking up bleary eyed and groggy, and with a particular itchiness in the back of his throat, Shang Qinghua raised slowly and buried his head in his palms. Inhaling his scent of cinnamon and almonds, he frowned as he mostly smelled the bitter undertones of the cinnamon wafting straight into his nose. The plush blankets surrounded him in a neatly made nest, or at least it was a neat nest. His night was restless with tossing and turning, making for a rude awakening. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, to nuzzle into his fluffy comforter and rest a few more hours. His prayers fell on deaf ears as time kept going, all the while the responsible part of his mind urged him to get up. Giving into the small voice in the back of his head, he reached for the glass of water that sat on the nightstand beside his bed. He lifted the glass to his lips as he felt the cool liquid trickle into his mouth. Shang Qinghua frowned once again when he received zero relief from the soreness that permeated his throat, the only thing that changed was that the itchiness had changed to a cool pang that spread from the back of his throat to the far end of the roof of his mouth. Shang Qinghua cursed himself for not adding traditional calendars to Proud Immortal Demon Way, but he couldn't go back now. Thinking back to the number of heats he'd gone through and the temperature in Cang Qiong when he last visited...
Oh
Oh no.
Quite possibly the worst time of the year had hit him like a brick wall. Allergies. Sore throats followed by coughing and then throwing up. How delightful.
Shang Qinghua never thought he'd think this, but he missed the taste of the bitter cherry spray he used to use when his own body betrayed him year after year. He wasn't even anticipating this, because of the harsh climate of the North that stayed the same year-round, he had no idea that he was in for yet another week of hurt! Shang Qinghua sighed mentally, because any use of his mouth for anything other than breathing was not something he was interested in at the moment due to the pain that followed. He sluggishly moved out of bed to start his morning routine, which consisted of nothing except brushing his teeth, washing his face, and lazily pulling on a new set of robes which were embroidered with blue snowflakes.
Leaving his room, he followed the same path he walked every morning through the halls of the palace leading to Mobei Jun's room. Knocking on the hardwood door, he waited a moment before opening the door to the alpha's room. Mobei Jun's intense scent of citrus and blueberries welcomed him as he entered the room. Seeming to pull him further in, until he reached Mobei Jun's bed. Over the years of being Mobei Jun's personal attendant, Shang Qinghua had picked up more than a few things about Mobei Jun. One was that the demon had always slept on his back. As a side sleeper, Shang Qinghua found it quite odd and couldn't for the life of him figure out how someone could find it comfy to sleep like that.
Pushing his judgements aside, he called out to Mobei Jun, "My King," Shang Qinghua winced, "you have many things to do today, it is time you should wake up," finishing the sentence left him dreading the day ahead. How could he make it through his day, filled with chatter and announcements, if just a few words had him raspy and teary eyed? Mobei Juns eyes opened as he sat up and acknowledged his favored servant. Seeing that his duties had been fulfilled, Shang Qinghua turned on his heel and left. Leaving no room for small talk as he opened the door. Shang Qinghua failed to notice his King staring intently at his neck as he retreated out the heavy door.
The day that followed was just as terrible as Shang Qinghua expected. First of all, the smell that followed him everywhere. It was as if he microwaved almond skins and cinnamon, then threw them into a blender, then set them on fire, and finally, put them in a wet sock. He hadn't had a scent like this since Mobei Jun weeded out and proceeded to very publicly execute a group of Linguang Jun's lackeys from within his own ranks. Dealing with not only the upkeep of Mobei Jun's image, but also finding replacements for the workers proved to be very stressful, leading to the foul smell. Second, was the sheer amount of talking he had to do. He had to speak with all eyes on him and his voice cracked at every other word, while it only worsened the ache in his throat. He was grateful that no demons were close enough to see the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Finally, and most recently, the coughing began. Starting as just little coughs here and there, they soon turned into him retching into the toilet of his chambers. Each conversation had led up to this, every speech leaving his throat hoarse and itchy.
Shang Qinghua had fled here the second he was free; he hadn't wanted any unfortunate servant hearing him puke up his lunch. Wait... Did he even eat lunch today? He'd eaten a couple snacks here and there, but he hadn't eaten a meal at all today. When it hurt to just breathe food was definitely the last thing on his mind. He didn't have much time to dwell on it though, as he was once again assaulted by a coughing fit. Bringing his head back over the bowl, he felt the familiar thickness of flehm rising in his throat, along with something else a little more textured. Every time he coughed; it sent waves of pain shooting through his head. Finally pulling back for a second, Shang Qinghua found that the foul edge to his scent had only worsened as he shakily breathed in and out. Each time he was once more given a grim reminder of how much everything hurt. Coming to his feet, Shang Qinghua opened the door leading from his bathroom to his sleeping quarters but stopped as soon as the action was completed. There on his bed, sat a somewhat concerned looking Mobei Jun, holding a bowl of pulled noodles. Shang Qinghua's own pungent scent filling the bathroom, had been enough to drown out Mobei Jun's entirely. Mobei Jun's scent was like a coiling sweetness that wrapped around Shang Qinghua and pulled him closer.
"My King," Shang Qinghua began shakily, "m'sorry, something came up..." Mobei Jun didn't respond. He placed the bowl down on Shang Qinghua's desk and continued toward the omega. When face to face with Shang Qinghua, he noticed his flushed face and could even hear subtle whines that followed his every breath. Mobei Jun reached out his hand to touch Shang Qinghua's forehead and cheeks. He wasn't running a fever, so why was he sick? All day he had noticed his servant acting odd and heard every voice crack, so why were there no other indicators of illness? "It's just a thing that happens to some humans this time of year, My King. It's really nothing to worry about..."
"You vomiting and shedding tears just from talking is nothing? Not to mention your scent..." Shang Qinghua winced. He had tried to cover it up with scent blockers, but nothing worked! Shang Qinghua averted his gaze. Mobei Jun sighed and led him to take a seat at his desk. "I had the cooks make you something, it should help with any pain you may be having," Mobei Jun stated. Shang Qinghua couldn't help but be a little sad that Mobei Jun had not made the noodles himself. "Don't look like that," Mobei Jun smirked, "I don't know how to add medicine into something like that and it still have it taste decent."
"Mm," Shang Qinghua replied as he picked up the pair of chopsticks already stuck in the noodles and began to eat. They weren't as good as Mobei Jun's, but considering the addition of medicine into the food, it didn't taste half bad. Shang Qinghua sighed as he finally got some sort of relief from his throat. Better than throat spray, he thought.
Once he saw Shang Qinghua was finished, Mobei Jun said, "You should rest now." Although phrased like one, it wasn't a suggestion. Even knowing this, Shang Qinghua still opened his mouth to argue but was quickly shushed by Mobei Jun's hand against his lips. Being this close to the scent gland on Mobei Jun's wrist was like a blessing for Shang Qinghua. He closed his eyes and nuzzled closer to Mobei Jun's wrist. He wouldn't kill him while he's already hurting, right? Mobei Jun didn't seem to mind much as he guided them both to the bed. Shang Qinghua allowed himself to be guided, and he sat down on his bed while Mobei Jun took his hand away.
Shang Qinghua gave a look of obvious displeasure to Mobei Jun who chuckled, "Your scents starting to get better, sweeter," Shang Qinghua didn't care much for Mobei Jun's teasing as he looked away. Mobei Jun only laughed again as he pulled back the unmade blankets enough for his cultivator to slip in.
Shang Qinghua stayed sitting up and looked back to Mobei Jun for a second before stating, "Thank you..."
Mobei Jun replied, "I can't have my most loyal servant in pain, especially while working." Mobei Jun smiled at Shang Qinghua, and paused for a moment, considering something. Then, he pulled Shang Qinghua close and left featherlight kisses on his neck, on top of his scent glands. Shang Qinghua squirmed at the feeling, but ultimately let Mobei Jun continue. "There, now you smell just fine," Shang Qinghua didn't know if he was happy or upset Mobei Jun had stopped. The last thing Mobei Jun did before he left was swipe his wrist across Shang Qinghua's pillow. Finally satisfied, he stood and turned to leave, "Goodnight," then he left. Shang Qinghua wasn't sure if it was the noodles or Mobei Jun's scent that made him comfortable enough to fall asleep, but in just a couple minutes he was fast asleep. He had a lot to think about in the morning.