You tried. Really, you did. Not all shifts were created equal, it was one of the first things you
learned as a nurse. Of course-you ducked a projectile thrown your way (but not at you, at
least not on purpose,)-being a nurse in Valhalla was far more eventful than being a nurse back on Earth.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Something that smelled like burnt
hot dogs soon drove a scattered bunch of people out of the cafeteria, but dealing with that
wasn't your job, so you ignored it. Now, where was I?
You headed up to room 220, where your newest patient was. Unlike many other people in the
hospital, you didn't have toilet paper glued to your shoes, you hadn't been targeted by
scalpers trying to hawk tickets to the next round of Ragnarok, and you didn't smell like burnt
hot dogs. All in all, you figured you were lucky, perhaps you were even in for a calm, quiet
shift. You only realized how wrong you were when you walked in the room.
"Oh, hello there." Susanoo, a large, intimidating looking man who had just barely scraped his
way out of the last round of Ragnarok with his life-and not much else-greeted you. He looked
awful. A huge open slash wound decorated his chest, a smaller one peeked out from his side,
just barely shallow enough to avoid exposing any internal organs, he had dozens of others
random small cuts and scratches on him, a couple of his fingernails were cracked all the way
down to his nail beds, blood trickled down his chin when he smiled at you, and all of the toes
on his left foot were gone. When you took his temperature, he also had a fever high enough
to bake a human's brain in seconds. "I guess you're going to be my nurse."
Oh dear-To make matters worse (because they could, indeed, always be worse,) you had
harbored a crush on him for years. When the 10th Round of Ragnarok was shown on the TV
in the break room, you had to run outside to eat your lunch behind a bush, unable to bear the
thought of anything happening to him. That had been mere hours ago and now here you were,
made fully aware of the fact that, indeed, many things had happened to him, none of them good. "I-uh-"
The next thing you knew, you woke up in the break room, wheeled in there on a shitty cot,
one of your co-workers holding ice on your head. "You ever blacked out when seeing a patient before?"
You shook your head. "Not that I can remember."
Ah. "Well, you whacked your head, but luckily you don't have a concussion or anything else
serious, just ice it for a while and you should be okay but let management know if your
headache gets worse." Your co-worker left, realizing that she had accidentally gone over her
allotted break time by 5 minutes.
All the beds were full, as was to be expected during Ragnarok. Nothing like crazy fans living
up to their description to stretch the hospital to capacity. Those between-fight riots were no
joke, after all. Being understaffed didn't help matters either-hiring had been a disaster lately,
with people quitting left and right before Ragnarok started. Only the truly desperate stayed
on, and well, desperation might as well have been your middle name.
Sigh. Better get a move on. You quickly made your way up to Susanoo's room again, this
time discovering that he had been bandaged up but regardless, looked like he was in no shape
for, well anything.
"How are you feeling?" You took his temperature again, all too glad that the hospital had
invested just enough money in buying the convenient type of thermometers that you could
stick in someone's ear. Administration was cheap, but even they had some standards.
"Could be better." A painful sounding crash, followed by the sound of someone slipping on a
banana peel and being body-slammed against a wall, interrupted whatever train of thought
was chugging along inside your head. "But could be worse too."
You flipped through the chart on your clipboard-he had some pain medication and fever reducing
medication recently, but it was doubtful that it would last a man his size through the
night. "Well, don't worry, we'll fix you up good as new. You're not in critical condition so
hopefully we can get you out of here in a few days if all goes well."
A small smile on his face gave you a nice, warm fuzzy feeling on the inside, but it didn't last
long, the sound of your pager buzzing soon ruining the moment. "I'm sure you must be busy
but it's nice to see you again."
Uh, yeah-You were afraid your brain would explode if you thought too hard when he looked
at you like that. "Thank you-I'm, uh, I gotta check on another patient, I'll be back as soon as I
can." You palms, being sweaty as hell, made it hard for you to hold onto your pager even
after you wiped them on your uniform shirt several times, so you just shoved the pager in
your pocket, running as fast as you could to get to your next patient.
___________
Several hours of bullshit later (as was a typical occurrence in your job,) your shift finally
ended. A miracle during times like this, to be sure, but it was only the beginning. After a
night of bizarre, scandalous dreams, the kind you were sure would get you locked up in an
insane asylum if anyone else found out about them, your next shift was upon you. You got
dressed and hurried back to work as fast as you could. The small smoke cloud in the distance
that carried the faint scent of meat and barbecue sauce was easy enough to ignore-it looked
like smoke from a grill, like someone barbecuing at a cookout. There were plenty of those
going on in Vahalla since Ragnarok started, as there were always people who wanted to
celebrate after each battle, no harm done, you figured. The giant wad of bubblegum on the
front door was weirder. You ignored it, finding a side door to enter.
Things only got weirder from there, a bowl of grapes tumbling down a flight of stairs being
the first thing you saw. You dodged the grapes, making a mental note to report that to the
janitorial department. You weren't late yet, but in this business, being early was the same as
being on time and being on time was the same as being late so despite there being three
minutes until your next shift started, you had to get a move on and had no time to deal with
the grapes yourself.
It was only when you got to the main floor that things started seeming hazy. You punched in
at the time clock repeatedly, about 15 times, in fact, before you realized you had clocked in,
and as you made your way to the main floor to get your assignments for the day, you noticed
a strange lack of coherence to, well, anything. A used condom on the floor almost caused you
to slip and fall, but you noticed it just in the nick of time, picking it up and throwing it in the
trash. After spraying some hand sanitizer on your hands, you swore you could hear a high-pitched
moaning sound coming from one of the offices. Eugh. Not my problem. You hurried
on, moving as fast as your feet could carry you. For some reason, despite the hospital usually
being busy, you hadn't seen a single other soul yet.
The air was warm, the day was young, and yet nothing seemed right at all. The door to the
men's bathroom opened, a man holding a cigarette slumping to the floor, crying as he tried to
dial a bunch of numbers on a phone. Further down the hallway you were in, you saw a tipped
over trash can. It was empty but someone had painted graffiti on it in a language you didn't
recognize. Odd. Was everyone losing their minds today? You had no idea and you were far
too afraid to check. Where the hell is the main floor? When you approached the set of doors
you were supposed to open in order to get there, you realized they were locked. You jiggled
the handle-there was no way the hospital was closed-it was never closed, especially not at a
time like this. Ugh-
When jiggling the handle for a couple of minutes didn't work, you grabbed a chair out of
another room, standing on the chair to look through the tiny window in one of the doors.
What you found only gave you more questions-a thick, fog-like smoke filled the room,
though the door handle didn't feel the least bit hot and the rest of the building seemed to be in
normal condition.
How ridiculous-you remembered each and every one of the patients you had been responsible
for yesterday, but even after searching for all of them, you couldn't find any of them, not until
you got to Susanoo's room.
"Good morning, ______." Susanoo wasn't good at remembering names but you wore a name
tag on your uniform, allowing him to address you by it as if he knew you well, which you
were sure he didn't, as before yesterday, you had never seen him up close (only from far
away, like in a crowd or across a busy street,) and he had never seen you at all. He looked
almost the same as before, except his bandages had been replaced with new ones, there was
no more blood on his face, and he was naked. "I don't suppose you have one of those scratchy
gowns stuffed under your skirt, do you? Truth be told, they're rather uncomfortable." He
hated the scratchy hospital gowns, especially since none of them actually fit him, leaving him
having to waddle along like an idiot to avoid flashing everyone when he had to hobble over
to the bathroom and even then the bottom of the gown barely covered his ass, so when you
were gone in the middle of the night and the night shift nurse went missing in action and
never showed up again, he ripped off the gown and threw it out a window. Had he not
suddenly gotten hard in the middle of the night, he would have thought to search for
something else to wear but despite the second dose of medicine he was given a few hours
earlier, he never felt like his fever went away so he thought being naked would at least help
him feel less hot, if nothing else.
"No-uh, no I don't-" You found a blanket crumpled on the ground and, lacking any other
options, you offered to give it to him, but he refused. "You're um-if you're still feeling
feverish, I better get you some more medicine." He would probably need something stronger,
but just as importantly, you needed to give yourself something to do before your legs buckled
under you in shock.
Right there, lying just a few feet away from you, Susanoo was as naked as the day he'd been
born and what was more, he was very noticeably hard. It wasn't a bad thing to look at, not at
all, he was very handsome and in good shape for his age, and his cock was just as big as the
rest of him, long and thick and just a slight bit darker than the rest of his body, the tip curving
slightly upwards. It would take quite a lot of effort to fit the whole thing in-
No. What are you even thinking? He could barely hobble twenty feet and was probably
burning up with a horrible fever, how could you even think of something like that? He was
your patient, too, although strangely you hadn't seen any other nurses or doctors at all today,
and come to think of it, you hadn't seen any other patients at all. Where was everyone and
what was going on? The strange, hazy feeling from before only seemed to grow with time,
and you didn't even realize that Susanoo saw you slap your own face with both hands at the
same time until you heard the bed creak.
"What's wrong?"
Uhh-"I'm fine, don't-don't worry about me-" You scrambled to find your clipboard, only
realizing you had forgotten to grab it earlier when you felt an old tissue in your pocket. You
threw the tissue in the trash can by his bed, trying to ground yourself by counting five things
you could see (besides his cock,) which worked about as well as you expected, the air leaving
your lung as you fell on top of him with a shriek. "I'm so sorry-I tripped, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay, these don't hurt as much as they look." Susanoo said, referring to his injuries, when
he gently lifted you off him so you were sitting on top of him. "Trust me, I've had worse."
Not professional-not professional-You froze like a statue, sweat coating your skin in mere
moments, time suddenly seeming to slow to a crawl. I'm gonna die, aren't I? Poor Susanoo
had barely had time to recover, what if you hurt him more, then he'd be here longer and you'd
get in trouble and then- "I-I-uh-I'm sorry-" Your brain started crawling at a snail's pace, not
letting you think about anything important or useful, your eyes glued to his chest, every inch
of the broad, firm, hairless expanse of muscle under you, covered by nothing but some
bandages, it really wasn't like you at all, to let something so silly get in the way of doing your
job, but your brain selfishly refused to allow things like logic or rationality or a sense of
professionalism get in the way of the sight in front of you.
"No, no, you don't have to be sorry, it's okay-" Though Susanoo didn't feel feverish anymore, you
briefly rested your hand on his forehead to see for yourself-like you, he seemed
somewhat distracted and less than fully alert, as if he was suspended in the same kind of
invisible molasses you were, caught in a trap like a fly in a spider's web. "I just want to ask
you something."
"Okay." You let him grab your hands, giving them a nice warm squeeze that made you
suddenly very glad to not be standing up, as otherwise you would have melted into the floor.
Normally, the ethics of your profession demanded-well, not whatever you were doing, that
was for sure, but you were most definitely not in your right state of mind, and, you soon
realized, neither was he.
"Are these new?" He slid his hand up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric of your underwear,
which was now exposed thanks to his actions. Normally, something like that would have
freaked you out, but for some reason, despite knowing that everything was wrong right now,
you didn't feel concerned about it, finding yourself comfortable with going with the flow.
"Oh, no, I just picked them off the clearance rack a while ago."
"Well, I want to see if what you got under these tastes as good as it looks."
You didn't have time to react, or at least to ask him what he was doing when he pushed your
skirt up, ripping off your panties. He kissed up your legs slowly, as if trying to impress upon
you that he had no intention of hurting you.
"You have really soft lips." Realizing your mistake, you made a small correction, amending
what you said in case it might have offended his sensibilities in some way. "I mean, they feel
really nice."
"If that's so, then I think you'll enjoy this even more." Before enough time had passed for you
to blink again, you felt his mouth on your pussy, the sudden sensation causing you to shriek.
He wasn't the most coordinated at the moment, clearly not at peak performance and also
feeling the same strange feeling you had been experiencing ever since you arrived at work,
but he resolved to try his best.
Some might say he was more talented with his sword than he was with other instruments, but
he had learned enough over time to know the basics and execute them in an adequate,
efficient manner. Though it was a bit uncomfortable when he grabbed your butt, digging his
fingers in a little too much, he more than made up for it other ways, sucking and licking at
your pussy like he was starving.
Of course, being occupied as he was, he couldn't say anything, but you didn't need words to
tell that he was enjoying himself. If he had ever enjoyed anything so thoroughly in his life,
you had no way of knowing. As you had no other way to support yourself and it felt far too
good to ask him to stop, you placed your hands on the wall in front of you above his bed,
unsure what else to do. Given the severity of Susanoo's injuries, you had no idea what to
expect, finding yourself totally and completely caught off guard at how fast he made you
come.
"Are you-are you okay?" Even a single sentence felt like monumental effort, but it felt
necessary.
"I've certainly been much worse than I am now-although I could use some help and you seem
like the perfect person to help me."
If you had any lingering doubts as to whether he enjoyed eating you out, they evaporated the
moment you saw how hard he was. Sure, he had already been hard before (and it had
certainly been difficult enough to ignore,) but now, you found yourself with questions that
would remain locked up inside your brain forever. "It sure seems like it." Despite your best efforts not to, you squeaked when he grabbed his
cock. Had he not touched it the entire time? Did that mean-
"You don't have to, of course, but I would certainly appreciate it." You didn't hesitate,
unbuttoning a few buttons on your shirt first in an attempt to rid yourself of some lingering
heat so you could concentrate better. There were too many questions, all swimming around in
your brain. The curiosity, if left unaddressed, would eat you alive. It took a considerable
amount of strength-both of body and of will-to not grab the back of your head and thrust his
hips upwards. "You're very helpful."
A muffled grunt was the only response you could give him. At first, you only had your lips
wrapped around the tip of his cock. If you went to a pool, you weren't the type to jump right
in the deep end without dipping your toes in the water first, and this was no different. Slow
and steady wins the race. His cock was exactly as huge as it looked, thick and girthy with a
noticeable vein, the head pleasantly smooth and though he didn't exactly have the opportunity
to wash up since he wound up in the hospital, you assumed it hadn't been all that long since
he had taken care of such matters, as even though you expected to taste sweat, instead you
got a whole lot of nothing, leaving you with a pleasantly neutral sensation as far as taste
went. As another added bonus, he didn't have much hair down there-some men naturally had
less than others, of course, but you wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he shaved, if
indeed that was the case.
"That's good-don't stop doing that-" Though you were sure that his voice was more strained
that it would have been had he not been injured, you could tell he very much appreciated the
effort, murmuring gentle praises to you all the while. He pet your head with one hand, more
unconsciously than anything else, as if by doing so he would ensure that you would continue.
He had nice, warm hands, the kind of big strong hands that could do all sorts of things, things
that would bring your blood to a boil.
Under any circumstances more normal than the ones you found yourself in at the moment,
you would have thought to cover your lower half as soon as possible, but instead you kicked
off your shoes, wanting to rid yourself of the strange, oppressive, hot feeling settling in your
chest. The way he used his tongue on you before helped, but the feeling still lingered, making
you seek coolness. Since it was too difficult for you to fit all of his cock in your mouth, you
settled for grabbing the base of it with one hand, giving it a very gentle squeeze.
Regardless, with time, your confidence grew, and soon an inescapable urge hit you like a ton
of bricks, resulting in your gripping onto both of his thighs while you moved your head up
and down, being careful to keep your mouth in the exact same shape no matter how
uncomfortable it got. The results were well worth the effort, Susanoo's fingers tangled in your
hair while you worked to keep as much of his cock in your mouth as possible, sucking and
licking it continuously, your jaw and its opinions on the matter at hand be damned.
Lucky for you, Susanoo was kind enough to warn you when he was about to come, a low,
guttural groan catching your attention at just the right moment. You sucked in as much air as
possible through your diligent, hard-working nostrils, dipping your head down one last time.
The hot, salty sensation hit your mouth right away, and as luck would have it, it wasn't too
unpleasant. Gods were built different from humans in many ways, and this, apparently, was
one of them. Without having to handle the stress of being grossed out, you were able to
empty his balls down to what you were at least 99% sure was the last drop.
My goodness-if there was one question you had (how pent-up he was,) you had your answer
delivered with unshakable certainty. Pulling away once he was well and truly finished, you
grabbed some tissues that were on the movable table (really little more than a glorified stool
with wheels,) by his bed, wiping your face clean, then tossing them in the trash (this time
without making any stupid mistakes.) There was an odd ringing in your ears now and the air
smelled like a wet skunk, but other than that, you felt fabulous.
"You know, I wouldn't mind staying here if only it didn't smell so strange." Realizing that you
weren't the only one who smelled the strange odor, you realized something was wrong even
in the midst of the strange, unusual haze you were caught in, the weird, jelly-like feeling that
had slowly seeped into your every pore ever since you arrived at work today.
"I could say the same thing." You really did want to leave, though, the smell, which had
hardly been noticeable before, was now overpowering, and now you could see strange smoke
fill the hallway outside the room. Though Susanoo would likely still have trouble walking
due to him missing the toes on his left foot, he still seemed to be in better shape overall since
yesterday. The wheels, slow as they were, turned in your head until at last a metaphorical
light-bulb made its appearance. "Has anyone given you a boot for your foot?"
"Not that I remember." Susanoo confessed.
"I'll be right back." You had no idea how you did it, pulling your skirt down just enough to
cover the important bits, nor what dark forces inside you compelled you to walk around the
hospital barefoot, but you found him an old poncho someone left in someone else's office and
a boot big enough for him that could be used to help stabilize his foot enough for him to be
able to walk at least a short while, bringing it back to his room.
A slightly awkward handful of moments later, you helped get the boot on his foot, letting him
get dressed before you helped him out of the room. As bad of an idea as it was-and it had all
been a very, very bad idea despite how wonderfully talented he was and how thanks to him,
you made noises that you thought were impossible for you to make-there was no sense in
staying. If it wasn't already, the hospital would almost certainly become an unsafe place to be
in, and if nothing else, if you two could make it outside, you could at least try to find out if
anyone else knew what was going on.
"Sorry if it's not comfortable, it's not exactly designer footwear."
"It'll take more than that to kill me." Susanoo sounded confident and assured enough that you
couldn't find it in you to object, the two of you slowly making your way out of the hospital.
Along the way, you passed more and more things that made you wonder if you would make it
out. There was a stairway with a three legged dog the size of a car eating a rubber chicken. In
the cafeteria, there was a blob the color and consistency of cottage cheese (but frighteningly
sentient,) that was smashing a vending machine to bits. And in one of the waiting areas, well,
the oozing red liquid on the floor and the giant blue hand prints on the walls raised questions
that neither of you wanted answers to.
When you both made it outside, the first things that greeted your senses were the bright sun
shining in the sky, a little bird chirping on the branch of a Magnolia tree, several unconscious
people strewn all around the building, and a line of police cars quickly parking in the main
parking lot. To top it off, the smell of the strange, skunk-like smoke seemed to be most
concentrated coming from one room-the men's bathroom on the third floor. None of it would
matter for long, though, as within moments, both you and Susanoo were no longer conscious,
not even aware of what happened or aware of just how fortunate you were that you both
managed to avoid passing out until after you got out of the hospital.
"Loki, get your ass out of there or so help me Zeus, you're going to be in prison for eternity!
Who hotboxes in a fucking hospital bathroom you deranged freak?! Where did you even get
that much weed?!" Ares, a blustering lummox of a god, shoved his foot in his mouth with
frightening ease, as Hermes, who was standing nearby, pointed out.
"Dear brother..." Hermes tapped Ares on the shoulder, clearing his throat. "Perhaps you
should check your pockets more carefully..." His face darkened for a moment as Ares,
scrambling for his pockets, realized with terror that Loki had stolen his cigarettes, which
were, in fact, not normal cigarettes. Weed, as it turned out, was the least harmful thing they
were laced with, but no one, least of all Ares, realized that until after Loki, who had been sent
to fight in Round 11 of Ragnarok, had one of his clones steal them (who then decided to
hotbox a bathroom at the hospital afterwards just to see what would happen.) And naturally,
no one, not even Loki's clones, knew that the cigarettes originally belonged to Aphrodite,
who sold some of them at an exorbitant fee because why not-the original Loki had simply
stolen them out of someone's pocket while pick-pocketing, then sold them to Ares for 100
million yen, then stole them back from Ares while Ares got distracted watching some idiots
start a riot after the end of Round 10 of Ragnarok. "Besides, Loki is fighting right now-his
clone's not going to listen to you of all people."
"Why, you-"
"Anyways." Hermes cleared his throat again-despite his superior constitution, the smell still
bothered him a little bit even from a safe distance-I think we had better call the other hospital
and have them help with his-his expression calm and impassive again as he gestured to you
and Susanoo, along with the other people passed out outside.