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eruden-writes · 5 months

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Feed the Fever - Part 2 (Cyd x Mara)

Summary: Mara Sweet hated her satyr colleague, Cyd Stylcock. He was obnoxious, flirtatious, always late with the paperwork, and - worse - everyone seemed to love him. His presence just further aggravated Mara after her messy break-up. And to make matters worse, she was coming down with a fever.

Something in Mara snaps when Cyd, bringing his paperwork in at the last possible second, waltzes into her office. Dizzy from fever, she does something she never thought she'd do in a million years: grope her colleague.

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Silence settled heavily in the examination room. Mara stared, wide-eyed, at Dr. Agnosta, a gnoll individual. The doctor sat stiffly on a rolling stool, face sober and not betraying a hint of amusement. The barren nature of the exam room gave plenty of space for the quiet to settle uncomfortably around the two of them. Though Dr. Agnosta seemed undaunted by it, merely holding Mara’s gaze.

A sense of queasiness was overcoming Mara’s fever. “Can you repeat that?”

“You are cubare,” Dr. Agnosta repeated, noisily tapping their claws on the tablet in their hands they scrolled through the notes. One of their tattered ears twitched. They squinted at something, their eyes flickering. A second later, Mara realized they had been reviewing the lab work. “You’re about one-eighth cubare.”

That meant one of her great-grandparents was from the Infernal realm? Or, well, one of her grandparents liaised with someone of the Infernal realm, at least. Mara racked her brain, trying to remember anything she could of the relations, but nothing came to mind.

Her shoulders slumped, still seated on the examination table and dressed in the patient gown. Dr. Agnosta had ordered a blood test as soon as Mara mentioned Cyd’s damned theory. She would have never brought it up had she known there was an inkling of possibility to it. There had to be another reason, right?

“So this fever is…” Mara hated how breathless she sounded. It was like her every action tinged with flirtation. She didn’t even try to sound like that!

“Colloquially known as Cubi Fever. It does not affect all cubare severely, since cubare live with their enhanced sexual capabilities daily.” Dr. Agnosta set aside the tablet, seated on a stool by a minimalistic desk. If they noticed Mara’s suggestive breathlessness, they made no indication. The doctor crossed their ankle over their knee, leaning back a little as they took on a learned air while explaining, “In your case, it is possible your cubare genes took longer to activate and losing your source of sexual relief, well… You are more prone to ill-thought reactions than a cubare who has lived with this all their life.”

That didn’t sound hopeful. Mara sighed, crossing her arms and looking down at her still socked feet. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Find a source of sexual relief.” They shrugged and smiled sympathetically when Mara shot them an aggravated look.

“Anything else?” She tried not to bite the words out. It was difficult since her thoughts lingered back to Cyd, who she last saw still seated in the waiting area. There was no way he was still there. Besides, she wasn’t desperate enough to boink someone that hated her.

The doctor hummed, considering the options. After a moment, they admitted with a hesitant voice, “I can provide a suppressant. However, due to the low-content of your cubare blood, it may not help. It might even—”

“I don’t care what the side effects are. Give me the suppressant.”

Dr. Agnosta stared at Mara for a long moment, their eyebrows furrowed and snout wrinkling. They obviously had concerns about this particular treatment path. Mara just met the doctor’s eyes head-on, trying to convey she was absolutely certain this was the direction she wanted.

Eventually, Dr. Agnosta sighed and shook their head and stood from the stool. “Alright then. I’ll write you a prescription. You may get dressed now. The prescription will be ready up front when you check out.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Relief fluttered in Mara as she watched the gnoll doctor leave, a smile on her lips. Once the door shut behind them, Mara went about re-dressing in her work clothes. At the back of her mind, she already made plans to swing by the grocery store - with the pharmacy she used - and pick up an easy dinner to treat herself.

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Once dressed and given her discharge papers, Mara made her way back out to the waiting area to check out. A cursory glance around the waiting room confirmed Cyd had left. Good. She didn’t need his smug face poking around her business.

The relief was short-lived.

As soon as Mara exited the urgent care clinic, Cyd hopped up from a stone bench. “Hey! So, what’s the prognosis?”

“Why are you still even here?” Surprise had Mara rooted to the spot, but a scowl quickly overcame her shock.

“Moral support?” He carelessly shrugged, grinning at her in a way that made Mara’s blood boil. Just not in a way she usually anticipated.

Turning on her heel, she snorted and started marching down the street. “Like hell I’m telling you.”

Cyd’s footfalls followed after as he jogged to catch up with Mara. Coming up alongside her, he bent low, his grin growing. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Believe what you want.” She didn’t even glance at him. Only kept her eyes locked forward, forcing her feet to continue on the path she had already decided on. He had to have something better to do, didn’t he? Still without looking at him, she pointedly hissed, “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Other than here?”

Making a show of scratching his goatee, Cyd hummed before shaking his head definitively. “Nah, not til seven.”

Mara turned sharply toward Cyd, her purse lifting up and smacking him from the centrifugal force. “Stop following me.”

Raising his hands, he took a step back, offering an awkward smile and nod to a passing group of - rightfully concerned - people. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m not following you. I just happen to be going where you’re going.”

“Uh huh, what are you getting, Cyd?” She planted her hand on her cocked hip, expression scathingly skeptical. Upon her response and familiar usage of a name, the group continued walking. She could’ve bit her tongue for not using concerned strangers to her benefit.

With the eyeballers gone, Cyd relaxed a little. His eyes flicked back to her as he rubbed his neck in an obviously overacting sort of way. “Ah, well, I forgot the name of the store, but I’ll remember when we get there.”

“You’re insufferable,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It could be a completely plausible excuse. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence, but it could be. Cyd wasn’t doing anything particularly wrong. The two were co-workers, he walked with her to the clinic, and now he was walking with her to the store, because he ‘happened to be going that way.’ If she called the authorities, they wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Besides, she didn’t actually want him to get in legal troubles for whatever he was pulling. He could very well be concerned about the welfare of others. Or maybe Cyd just wanted to try to get in her pants, seeing as her hormones were in overdrive. That thought made the mingling heat of aggravation and horniness flare. Thankfully, the annoyance was much too powerful for her libido.

“Hey, I just want to make sure you’re not-” Before Cyd could finish the accusation of her jumping any random schmo on the street, Mara’s hand shot out to grab him by the shirt. A strangle yelp caught in his throat, but he bent to the sudden tug.

“Fine, you were right. The doctor says I’m one-eighth cubare. Happy?” Mara’s voice pitched low, nearly hissing as she glanced around. She didn’t want others on the street to hear about her very personal affairs. Just the thought made her cheeks flush and discomfort crawl over her skin. “It wasn’t a problem when I had a boyfriend and a steady intimate life, but without him…”

“Cubi fever,” Cyd finished, mirroring Mara’s tone. Her eyes flickered to the satyr man’s face, finding the slight curl of smugness in his smile. But there was something else there. A softness - maybe sympathy - in his eyes.

Her attention dropped from Cyd’s face to her fist clenching his shirt. A thick floof of fur spilled out from the strained fabric and it took all of Mara’s attention to not touch it with her free hand. No matter how soft it looked.

Mara pulled away from him, clenching both her hands so tight her nails dug into her palms. Anything to keep that inquisitive itch from doing something she’d regret. Her heels clacked angrily across the sidewalk as she once again marched away from Cyd. “Whatever. I’m going to the pharmacy now for my prescription.”

Behind her, Cyd’s footfalls followed after. She barely refrained from groaning as mischief colored his next words. “What a coinky-dink, I need to go to the pharmacy too.”

“How convenient,” Mara drawled, sarcasm laden on her tongue. She continued forward, clutching her purse and refusing to look back at the satyr.

“Isn’t it just,” Cyd chuckled, the deep resonant sound like warm molasses oozing down her spine.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Cyd still grinning, though following a little behind her. His thumbs were hooked into his pockets and his posture oozed confident ease. There was a brief moment when she was tempted to do something to wipe that annoying smile off his face, to add a thread of awkward tension in his body language. Maybe drag him into a parking garage or alleyway, somewhere a little more private to-

No, no, no. Mara bit her tongue, trying to distract herself from the lurid images dancing around her brain.

Gods, she needed to get to that pharmacy. But she wasn’t about to run in heels nor have Cyd chase after her. The very thought made a hot melty ball of something churn in her center.

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