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His skin feels wrong. There's bile rising in his throat, threatening to spill out to the ground beneath them. His arm tingles, starting from the wrist and travelling up, up, and up, until he swears it's fallen asleep. Or fallen off. He prefers the second one.
Clothes were supposed to help. Supposed to. Yet it's done nothing here. Nothing but keep that feeling trapped within his sleeves, his gloves, his blood.
He grits his teeth the longer the hand stays in his, blinking rapidly behind his mask to get rid of the pain starting to build in his eyes.
It's never been this bad before.
Clown swears he can feel it in his teeth, his gums, stabbing pains that make his head twitch and nose flare. Is he imagining it? He must be- it's- there's no other possible reason for it being this bad unless it was all his imagination. It had to be.
Sneeg… he's never touched him for a period as long as this before. Simple touches, getting in each other's faces, shoving and pulling until the other backs away, but this?
It's strange.
When was the last time Clown ever held hands with another? Has he ever? That was a stupid question, of course he has! But it wasn't for this long, wasn't this soft and sickening. Why…
Why was this time so disgusting? Why did he want to tear off his skin and replace it with something else?
Fuck, he wouldn't even stop at his skin. His muscles, bones, ligaments and veins and blood and-
“Clown? Cloooown? You alright there dude? I know I can't see your face ‘cause of that mask of yours, but even I can see uh… never mind.”
“Wha- oh. Yeah I'm- I'm fine. Just thinking is all.” He stares at their still connected hands. He stares until the image is burned into his retinas. He stares until Sneeg puts a hand under his chin and lifts his head to look at him.
Clown still stares.
“You don't look fine. What's bothering you? You're quiet but you're never this quiet, especially not here.” He gestures to around them, the noise of the pillagers and silverfish returning full force to Clown's ears.
He doesn't quite know how he forgot about them.
He flinches at the sudden noise, Sneeg's face of concern only growing more.
His mouth feels full of cotton. It takes a moment for him to swallow enough to get some sort of moisture back in it, to be able to form the words he wants to, and even then.
Even then he doesn't mean to say “Can you let go of me?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me,” he starts loudly, before he quiets. “I want you to let go.”
“But you were the one that-”
“I don't care, Sneeg! I just want you to let go. Please.”
“Alright man, no need to get your panties in a twist.”
He still doesn't feel right.
He wants to throw up.
He might, actually.
Clown all but rips off his mask and bends over, coughing a few times before it comes up. It burns, it's disgusting, he wishes he could cut out his stomach and be done with this already, and yet it makes him feel so much better.
He knows Sneeg is behind him, watching this happen, knows that his first thought must be to touch and reassure but he's- he isn't doing that.
It makes Clown feel better, too.
He doesn't know when he fell to the floor, or when a small piece of cloth is dropped in front of him, landing on his lap softly. It takes a moment for him to stop dry heaving, to catch his breath and try to swallow back another round at how awful his insides taste.
“Clown?”
He hums, blinking slowly, moving his arms with a sluggishness he only achieves when he hasn't slept in a week. He wipes at his mouth and tongue, almost wanting to shove it down his throat to get rid of the rest of it, but he thinks better.
“You alright?”
“Yeah I'm… okay.”
“Actually okay this time or?”
“I'm okay,” he repeats again, hoping if he says it enough then he will be. “Just a moment of weakness for the Royal Archmage is all! Won't happen again!”
“Dude, Clown,” Sneeg starts, pauses, and sighs, coming to sit down next to him, close enough that he should have his leg touching Clown, but it isn't. There's enough space between them that allows him to be able to wiggle and still not touch. “It's okay. I know I shit on you a lot but I do love you, y'know. That's the entire reason why we're together? You can tell me what's wrong.”
“I'm fine, Sneeg, absolutely nothing to worry about! Just a little hiccup was all!”
“So if I touched your shoulder right now, you-”
“Don't! Don't- don't touch me,” his eyes are wide and slightly panicked, wanting to move away from his partner, stopped only by the puddle of sick blocking his path. “please. I…”
“Sorry,” was that the first time he's ever said sorry to him? “But you have to tell me what's wrong. C’mon, we need that communication going on between us.”
Clown falls silent, curling into himself as he stares at his hands. His skin feels wrong. There's no more bile rising, already spilled on the floor, and his arm still tingles as if asleep, as if it's missing. He hopes it's the first.
Sneeg sighs, standing. “Well, how ‘bout we go somewhere else yeah? Like uh… uhm… never mind. Let's just get you a bed.”
He doesn't reach a hand out.
♤◇♧♡
He doesn't quite know how he made it to the blue bed Sneeg has in the middle of the area, but he does. Lands harshly enough that it makes the bed squeak, him groan, and his partner laugh.
He rolls his eyes and cuddles around a pillow that Sneeg hands him - thrown, really, but he's too tired to care - and tries to relax.
It only lasts a few moments before he hears him sit down next to the bed, leaning his back against it with another sigh.
“You ready to talk now?”
“Nah.”
“...I'm breaking up with you.”
“No no wait no I'm sorry I'll talk,” he clutches the pillow tighter at the other's laugh, pouting. Clown takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to steady himself as he talks softly. “I have an… issue, of sorts, with being touched.”
Sneeg hums, staying silent other wise.
“Which, I know, the ClownPierce, the one that seems to be always touching someone, hating touch? Shocking.” Clown loved to hover over people - to scare them, obviously - and randomly grab their hands, or press close to seem more intimidating than he otherwise would've been.
To get into people's faces and stare them down, bodies close enough to feel the heat radiating off them, close that a single twitch of either’s arms would have them touching, if only for a moment.
“I've just… it's been easier recently, with you, I dunno what happened today that made me feel so sick.”
“Sick seems like an understatement, you threw up.”
“Yeah and that's never happened before now!” He sighs, shaking his head. “I don't know what happened. Maybe I've just been too touchy recently and it finally caught up. Makes sense with how good I've been with it.”
Sneeg doesn't reply. He nods, humming as he stares at the pillagers that have been steadily gathering in their box, glad that they can't see them from here. How scary would that be, looking up and making direct eye contact with one of those fuckers? Not a good time, that's for sure.
It's a blissful quiet they find themselves in. Enjoying their company, the only noise is the silverfish and pillagers - and Clown thinks he heads Phantoms at some point, but they disappear so fast - and the sound of their soft breathing.
He wishes he could spend forever like this.
“Are you sure you're alright?”
“...Yeah.”
“You actually mean that this time? Not lying to me again, are you?”
“Nah I'm actually okay now. Uhm, thank you.”
“For what? Not disregarding the one boundary you've given me? For not leaving you there? I dunno how others have treated you in the past, but I'm way, way better than them. Obviously.”
“You sound so stupid saying it like that.”
“Yeah well if I'm stupid then you're stupid so…”
“Touche.”
Clown slowly reaches a hand out to touch Sneeg's shoulder, holding his breath and slowly releasing it when his fingers brush against his shirt.
His skin feels wrong. But it's… there's no tingles, no bile, just the intense feeling of wrongness that makes him want to let go. He won't, though, because it's so fucking nice to be able to touch someone else.
“I’m glad I have you,” he says, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as he continues to drag his fingers in small circles on Sneeg's shoulder. “One day I'll be able to give you what you want.”
“I love you too,” Sneeg doesn't move from where he's laid his head on the bed, staring at Clown like he's the only one in the universe. “And don't say that again, stupid, you already give me everything I want.”