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Queasy hiccups.

That is all

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Phoenix felt it the moment he woke up—a strange unease in his gut that wasn’t quite the usual nerves. He groaned, rolling over in bed, clutching the sheets as his mind cycled through the day’s upcoming events. He had a proposal meeting today. A big one. As a graphic designer, these meetings were always a bit nerve-wracking, but Phoenix had prepped for this. He had everything lined up, his ideas fresh and bold. So why did he feel like absolute shit?

“Just nerves,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his face before dragging himself out of bed. “It’s all in your head, Phoenix.”

His stomach gurgled, a slight pressure building in his chest as he shuffled to the bathroom. He burped, a quiet, bubbling sound that caused him to wince. "Ugh, come on," he groaned, rubbing his chest, hoping it would settle. He brushed it off as another sign of stress—stress always did weird things to his stomach. He wasn’t about to let this ruin his day.

He'd dressed and downed his coffee with half-hearted enthusiasm when his phone buzzed on the counter. Nico’s name lit up the screen, bringing a small smile to his face.

"Morning, babe," Phoenix said, a little relief washing over him at the sound of his boyfriend's voice.

"Hey, my love. How’re you feeling about the meeting? Gonna knock ‘em dead, right?"

Phoenix let out a sigh, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, I guess. Just, y'know, nervous as hell."

"You've got this, baby. You're a damn genius, remember?"

Phoenix smiled despite himself. "Thanks, babe. I needed that."

Nico's laugh was soft and warm. "Go kick some ass, darling. Call me after, alright?"

“Yeah, I will. Love you.”

"Love you more."

Phoenix hung up, already feeling a little better. But no sooner had he grabbed his bag to leave, his phone rang again. His brother’s name flashed on the screen this time, and Phoenix rolled his eyes before answering.

"Daniel, if you’re calling to wish me luck, I’m hanging up."

Daniel chuckled. "Wouldn’t dream of it. Just wanted to remind you not to fuck it up."

“Yeah, thanks. Great pep talk.”

"Seriously, though, bro. You’ll crush it. Later."

Phoenix sighed again. “Yeah, later.”

***

By the time Phoenix arrived at the office, the discomfort in his gut had morphed into something more solid, more nauseating. His palms were sweating as he tried to shake it off. He’d been nervous before, sure, but never like this. Still, he had to push through.

He greeted his colleagues, exchanged some small talk, and took his place at the conference table, but the queasiness in his stomach was persistent, gnawing at him. By the time he sat down, it was all he could do to keep his head from swimming. He burped quietly, this one bringing a taste of bile with it. "Ugh... what the fuck?" he whispered, gripping the edge of the table as his stomach churned. It wasn’t just nerves anymore, and deep down, he knew it.

The nausea built and built until, without warning, it slammed into him like a wave.

"Oh shit," Phoenix muttered under his breath, standing abruptly and making a beeline for the bathroom.

His stomach turned violently, and the moment he made it into the stall, he retched. Hard. Vomit spilled out, a disgusting, acrid mess that burned his throat and left him gasping. He clung to the toilet bowl, shaking, bile still rising.

“Fuck... I’m actually sick," he whispered to himself, a sinking realisation settling in.

It took a while before the wave of sickness subsided, but it didn’t disappear completely. His stomach was still uneasy, still threatening. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rinsed his face, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked pale, drawn.

But he couldn’t back out now.

Phoenix somehow made it through the meeting, plastering on a fake smile, nodding, and giving the presentation he’d worked so hard on. Every sentence felt like it was ripped out of him, and he fought down the urge to vomit the entire time. It was a fucking miracle he didn’t throw up on the table.

By the time he was done, his coworkers were congratulating him, telling him how impressive his pitch had been. He smiled weakly and muttered his thanks, but all he could think about was getting home.

The nausea grew worse on the drive, the motion of the car only making things harder. By the time Phoenix reached his apartment, he was pale, sweating, and barely holding it together. He dropped his bag just inside the door and rushed to the bathroom.

He barely made it. His knees hit the tile, but the vomit came before he could position himself over the toilet. It splattered onto the floor, the toilet rim, everywhere but where it was supposed to go.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Phoenix cried, choking as another wave hit. His stomach convulsed, emptying everything it had.

It was a mess. A disgusting, rancid mess. He hated it. He hated how helpless he felt. Tears welled up in his eyes as the retching continued. He hated this feeling more than anything—the feeling of losing control, of being vulnerable, of being so fucking sick.

Phoenix slumped against the wall, panting, still dry-heaving, tears streaming down his face. He could hear the front door open, followed by Nico’s footsteps.

“Phoenix? Babe?” Nico’s voice called out, growing closer until he appeared in the doorway.

“Oh fuck..." Nico’s eyes widened at the sight of the mess, but he quickly pushed his shock aside, crouching down next to Phoenix. "Hey, hey, my love. It's okay. Breathe, alright?"

Phoenix’s chest heaved as he looked up at Nico, ashamed and exhausted. "I... I missed the fucking toilet. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It’s such a mess—"

"Shhh, don’t apologise," Nico said softly, wiping Phoenix’s tears away. "It’s okay, darling. Don't worry about that. Let’s get you cleaned up."

Phoenix sniffled, feeling small and vulnerable, but Nico’s presence was grounding. "I hate throwing up," he whispered, voice shaking.

"I know, babe. I know," Nico murmured, pressing a kiss to Phoenix’s forehead. "You did great. Let’s get you in the shower, alright? Don’t worry about the rest. I'll take care of it."

Nico helped Phoenix to his feet, supporting him as they stumbled to the shower. The warm water hit Phoenix’s skin, washing away the grime, the sweat, the sickness. He felt like a fucking mess, but with Nico there, rubbing his back, whispering reassurances, it was easier to let go.

“Just relax, okay? I’ve got you.” Phoenix leaned into Nico’s touch, closing his eyes.

As they dried off and Nico wrapped Phoenix in a towel, the nausea seemed to settle, leaving behind a deep exhaustion.

“I think I aced the meeting by the way,” Phoenix said, voice hoarse but carrying a hint of pride.

Nico blinked at him, then chuckled, shaking his head. "How the fuck can you still crack jokes after all that?"

Phoenix grinned weakly. “Talented, I guess.”

Nico rolled his eyes, but there was warmth in his gaze. "You’re fucking unbelievable, babe."

They curled up together on the couch afterward, Nico’s arms wrapped protectively around Phoenix. The day had been hell, but at this moment, Phoenix didn’t want to move forever.

"You’re gonna be alright, my love," Nico whispered, pressing a kiss to Phoenix’s hair.

"Yeah," Phoenix murmured, resting his head against Nico’s chest. "I think I am."

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Mini fic to warm up my hands before I write the appendix fic

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Hey G, just saw your post and just wanted to say take all the time you need and we'll be here when you're back! And that you're going to be very missed, you're such a lovely person!! But prioritize yourself and I hope you feel better soon 💕💕💕

Depression SUCKS but I have full trust you can kick its ass 😎

Hi soup! Thank you so so much for understanding, I had been feeling it for a while and tried to ignore it, but it just didn't work, so I gave up trying, lol. I had a LOT of time to take care of myself, and I feel better now that I took some time off! 💕

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Coming back

Okay, so I think I'm ready to come back now, but I still need to get back into the hang of writing, so I'll probably need a little time for that to happen. I also see that there's a pile of writing from others that I have to catch up on, so I'll get to that first. But most importantly, I'm back and feeling somewhat better!

My blog also turned 3 years old during my break?? What??

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Hello! I'll be gone for some time since I am trying to get over this depressive episode of mine. I thought I could push through, but it turns out I have no motivation to get anything done, and I'm just really struggling. Ignore this if you wish, I just wanted to get it out there, yk?

Bye for now,

G

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I definitely didn't read this a good couple of times! 🤭

Well since Wendy needs some love and I'm on a FaceTime roll (and I may have already asked for this once before, lol), how about a mini-fic where she and Vince are facetiming and he's all burpy and she's getting really flustered, so he embellishes? You can decide whether it turns into actual emeto and/or phone sex or just stays cute and fluffy. (Or if he has to get off the call for some reason suddenly, and she's all grumpy cause now she's got to take care of herself, lol).

😳😳😳😳

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"Hey gorgeous," Vince's voice was smooth, if a little tired, and Wendy opened a blinding smile. It was an average Wednesday night and she had just gotten home from her interior design classes and was dead on her feet, but most importantly, missing him, "how was your day?"

"Exhaustive," Wendy answered him truthfully, propping her phone against her vanity and sitting before it to start removing her make up. She stole a glance and melted, Vince had put his phone on top of his bedside table and was sitting in the middle of his bed, legs crisscrossed, wearing just his boxers. His curly hair was humid, fresh out of shower and he had a pile of papers near his knee.

"What happened?" he looked up from the papers, picking up a red pen and Wendy cleared her throat, blushing as she was caught gawking on him.

"Nothing," her face was on fire, "nothing, uhm- It was just a long day. My shift started at-" Wendy yawned, squinting her eyes as she did and when she opened them Vince was smiling fondly at her, "started at 6 AM, so I was up before that and just got home now."

"It's a wonder you're even coherent," Vince frowned, "don't you think you're biting off a bit much, Wen? Work every day, plus classes?"

Wendy pouted, this wasn't a new discussion they had. Vince understood she didn't want to just sit at home after work, or at least he said he did, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the sheer amount of stuff she did, "Vin..."

"I'm just saying gi-" he grimaced suddenly and ducked his head, pressing a fist to his lips as a small burp rushed up. Vin wrinkled his nose in distaste, but kept talking as if nothing had happened, "give your body a break, honey."

She cursed herself silently, that such a mundane thing like a little burp was enough to have her cheeks burning. Wendy shook her head, forcing her eyes away from the phone screen and concentrating in removing her mascara, "I don't need a break, I like keeping busy."

"There's busy and there's overworking," Vince pointed out gently and Wendy let out a huff.

"Says the man with a pile of work on the bed," she said sharply and heard a little startled chuckle.

"Okay, I'm nothing if not a hypocrite," he admitted lightly, "but that doesn't change that we're both in the wro-ugh," Wendy's eyes darted to the screen and sure enough Vince was rubbing his chest with an uneasy expression on. She dropped her cotton ball, staring as he patted between his pecs until a small burp came up, "ugh, excuse me. Sorry," Vince looked at the screen and then raised his eyebrows, "damn, honey, that's an intense glare."

Wendy scrambled back slightly, hiding her face with her hands, "sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to be such a perv! I'm-"

"Relax," Vince sounded amused, "relax, Wen, it's okay..."

She lowered her hands, knuckles still pressed to her mouth, and looked at him. Vince raised his eyebrows in a smug way, "I love knowing you still find me hot in every circumstance. Truly, how will I ever be loved like this?"

"Oh shut up," Wendy groaned, but before she could say anything else, Vince planted a hand to his stomach and made a small wince.

"My belly's a little upset."

"Fuck you," Wendy glared at the phone, feeling her face tingle and ears burn, "fuck you so much."

"Bet you wanna," Vince grinned at her, rubbing lazily at his stomach, "it's feeling all... Queasy."

"Shut uuup," Wendy whined, lowering her head in shame and heard her boyfriend let out a chuckle.

"You're adorable," his voice was brimming with glee, "really, though, dinner isn't sitting well. I went over to my parent's today and Soph pushed half her plate in mine, it's feeling heavy as hell."

Wendy bit at her lip, raising her head to look at him, "you're faking it."

"I'm not," Vince shook his head, "it's just some indigestion, I'm sure, but I'm not faking."

"Uhmm...," She breathed in deeply, trying collect herself, "well, get some tums, they'll help. What are you working on?"

"Essays about ancient Rome," Vince patted the pile of paper, successfully distracted from his mission at giving her a stroke, "I asked the kids to pick their favorite roman figure we learned about and write a small essay."

"The kids or the teens?"

"The kids," Vince rolled his eyes, moving on the bed so he was propped against the pillows and grabbing the papers. Wendy returned to the task at hand, taking the phone and getting up, bringing him to the bathroom with her. She heard Vince start to babble about the figures picked and smiled, heart fluttering at the clear excitement in his voice.

She grabbed a cleansing foam to get rid of all the vestiges and her electric facial brush, leaning against the sink as she watched Vince flip through the pages, "Ellie picked Nero," he said with a huge smile that almost showed his molars, "she's eleven."

"How many picked the wrong Mark Anthony?" Wendy joked and Vince let out a chuckle, fiddling through the papers.

"At least one-" halfway through his sentence Vince's mouth snapped shut and he gulped down, paling considerably since Wendy was able to notice even though his room wasn't brightly lit. She felt her mouth dry up.

"Vin?"

Instead of answering her, he held up a finger and turned his head, eyes squeezed shut.

Wendy squirmed, turning off the electrical brush and planting it on the sink, staring at her phone intently.

Vince gulped down once more, before letting up a thick, wet belch, his face turned away from the phone. There was no way he was faking that, Wendy thought, as she heard the noise of liquid splashing in his throat, but him forcing it down.

"Honey?"

"Oof," Vince had a displeased grimace on, "ew. Dinner's definitely messing with me."

"Maybe-" she couldn't string up a thought together, "maybe your- your mom used milk?"

Vince winced at the thought, looking more queasy than before, "I hope not," he said bitterly, lowering the papers away and planting a hand on the swell of his stomach. He pressed his fingers in gently and Wendy sucked in a breath as she heard his belly gurgle even through the phone.

"Fuck," she whispered, turning to wash the cleaning foam off her cheeks, while in the phone Vince laughed.

"I swear I'm not trying to mess with you," he said and Wendy splashed some of the cold water on her nape, feeling like her whole body was overheated.

"Trying or not, it's working," she admitted, past feeling embarrassed, squeezing her legs together, "aren't you gonna take something to settle it?"

He shrugged, "and miss out you looking at me as if I'm blasting porn in your screen?"

Wendy glared at him, "you're gonna keep feeling sick just to embarrass me?"

"Embarrass you?" Vince frowned now, "honey, I'm not trying to embarrass you, I'm just enjoying seeing you this turned on. If you want I can hang up..."

"NO!" She said too quickly, scrambling and causing her phone to fall down against her soap dispenser. Wendy retrieved it quickly, "no, no, don't hang up."

"Yeah?" Vince smiled, although he still looked a little unsure and Wendy shook her head vehemently, walking back to her bed and falling into it, her skincare routine be damned.

"Don't hang up," she shuffled on the bed, changing her phone to her left hand and sliding her right one under the hem of her pants, "talk to me? How are you feeling?" her voice dropped a whole note and Vince's hesitance vanished in a split second, his dark eyes getting a hungry look, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Really, really bad..."

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Not sure if this is a fic request or just a question. I know you wrote Bell not believing Luke when he was sick once and I'm trying to figure out if that trope would work with any of your other pairs? I know Vince would probably believe Wendy right away because she tends to keep it private - if she admits she's not feeling well, then he knows she really isn't. And Vince is so open, I can't see her thinking he's exaggerating or faking it. So that leaves Jonah and Leo - any possibility one might somehow think the other is exaggerating or something, and drags them along somewhere, only for them to get sick? They are such dramatic worry worts about each other, it's hard to picture, lol.

Hi Lis!!

This seems to be the vibe rn, I got two other requests also asking for "character is sick, but caretaker doesn't believe them". I went with Luke/Bell again, because like you said Wendy/Vin is very unlikely and Jonah/Leo are in a state of pure bliss right now, I doubt they wouldn't believe each other.

Warning that the first part is smutty!

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Bella rolled over, pressing her face to Luke's bicep and sighing heavily, "you're gonna be late," she mumbled, but didn't pull back even an inch.

Her husband let out a small huff, to indicate he had heard her, but didn't move at all either and Bella promptly slipped back to sleep... She was having the weirdest dream, when suddenly the bed movement woke her up.

Lucas had just sat up and he was taking his sweet time stretching, so Bell rolled on her back and watched him through her heavy lids. She opened a dreamy smile at the sight of his back muscles and Luke's crazy bed hair. Without leaving the bed, he stretched until he touched his toes, head hanging between his arms as he counted and yawned and Bella scooted closer, draping herself on his back.

Luke let out a snort, "good morning to you too," he said, as Bell planted a kiss to his shoulder blade and nibbled on his earlobe, without saying a thing.

"Morning," Bella sighed in his ear, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled Lucas over her in the bed, kissing him. He muffled a chuckle against her mouth, letting his hands slide down Bella's oversized shirt and pushing it up her thighs.

"Aren't you gonna be late?" she asked, breathing happily as Luke's kisses moved from her mouth to her neck and down her chest, over the t-shirt.

"It's a Saturday, baby," he said, sliding down the bed and kissing her now exposed tummy, all but purring as he felt Bella's fingers in his scalp. He bit the elastic hem of the boxers she was wearing, stolen from him, of course, and let it slap back against her skin, causing Bella to let out a giggly noise, "nowhere to be but here."

She let out a pleased noise as Luke grabbed her thighs, planting them on his shoulder and then opened a hand flat on her chest, keeping her put, back arched and entirely at his mercy.

Bella threw her head back against the pillows, hands clutching the mattress as she felt him kiss the inside of her thighs and slowly make his way inwards. Luke opened his mouth to plant a wet kiss over her pussy, a cheeky spark coloring his eyes as he made visual contact and raised his eyebrows in pure mischief.

Bell groaned, using her hands to push herself on the bed, since he still had his hands on her legs, keeping her from head locking him down as she desperately wanted to.

"Luke... Please, please- Just-" the whiny tone was probably his favorite thing ever and Bella saw as his cheeks turned red, not out of embarrassment, but from excitement, "god, just eat me out already, would you?"

He probably heard the impatience in her voice, because Lucas didn't need to be told twice and Bella's next words died in her throat, as she all but arched in the bed, squeezing her eyes closed at the pleasant sensation.

She was in cloud nine, lower belly and pussy all but throbbing as she climbed closer and closer to climax, when suddenly Luke pulled back and caused her to come crashing down. Bella opened her eyes, annoyed, "Lucas! Don't you dare-"

"No, sorry, sorry-" he wiped at his mouth, looking distraught and only then did Bella realize there was knocking on their front door. Knocking and Vince's booming voice as he said "WAKE UP GUYS!"

Bella glared at her husband, "what is Vin doing here?!" she whispered briskly and Lucas grimaced, pulling her boxers back up and sitting on the bed.

"I forgot I promised him and Leo we would go to the community game today..." Luke jumped out of her reach just as Bella let out a scoff and tried to slap his arm.

"Lucas!" She whisper-yelled, glaring at him, "well, I don't care. Make them go away and get back here. Say you'll meet them at the camp, I do not care-"

"Yeah, uh-"

Across the house they heard as Leo's voice said, "we can tell you're there Luke, c'mon! I'm gonna use the spare key if you don't come out!"

Bella's face turned red and she glared at her husband so much, he'd have dropped dead if looks could kill.

"I'm sorry," Luke whispered, jumping from the bed and then cringing at the situation down his pants, "I promised them-"

"You can't be serious-"

"I'm going, just give me a minute!" He yelled, so Leo and Vince could hear and Bella's blue eyes squinted at him, annoyance written all over her face.

"Get out of my sight, Atwood," she hissed and Luke had no choice but to obey. He rushed to the bathroom for a 30 secs cold shower, then back into the room, where Bella had curled up on her side and was angrily staring at him as he got dressed.

"I'm really sorry, baby-"

"Get. Out," Bella ignored him, grabbing his pillow and putting it over her head, blocking his view. He let out a sigh, but squeezed her calf in a loving manner, before rushing out of the bedroom.

Bell was absolutely the type to hold grudges — especially when she tried to finish up his job, but it didn't compare —, so she spent most of her morning sulking, catching up with her virtual friends. However, as pissed as she wanted to be, Bell made up her mind halfway through the day that she better enjoy it on her own and that Luke could make up for it once he was back.

It was after sunset and she was fresh out of the shower, after taking her sweet time with lotion and exfoliating, applying curl cream to her hair when she saw the headlights outside and the noise of Luke's keys.

The effect was immediate, annoyance blossomed, but Bella bit it down and went back to the bathroom to wash her hands and try to salvage their morning encounter. She smoothed over her cheeky babydoll and rolled her eyes at her own reflection. It was rare the day Bella dressed up for bed and it almost felt like a costume.

A noise down in their tiny house let her know Luke was inside, but it was much too loud and he hadn't called out for her yet, which already caused the frown from before to come back.

He was leaning over the sink drinking straight out of the tap, with the lights off, and Bella sighed as she could immediately tell Lucas was plastered.

"Really?" She groaned, leaning against the doorway and watching him drink greedily, "you can't be for real, Luke."

"Uhhhmmm," was his simple answer, head hanging, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste, crossing her arms to her chest.

"At least move to the bathroom," her voice had an annoyed, cold edge and Bella was fully aware she sounded like a bitch, but really? It was one thing to leave her high and dry to hang out with his buddies, coming back home drunk as a beaver was where she drew the line, "don't puke on the dishes, that's the bare minimum."

When he didn't move from the hunched over position, Bella let out a huff and crossed the room to grab his arm, "I can't believe you, Lucas," she scoffed, tugging him away from the sink, "how much did you drink?"

She could smell the alcohol on him and her anger was steadily climbing. He hadn't even noticed her cute outfit! Luke shook his head, bracing against the kitchen doorway and refusing to move.

"Didn't- Not... not drunk..."

Bella rolled her eyes, "yeah, I can tell," she squeezed his arm a little more strongly than necessary, pulling him to walk, "a couple more steps, c'mon."

It was a huge hassle, given Lucas was half a foot taller than her and much larger, but eventually they stumbled inside the bathroom and he immediately sunk down to his knees in front of the toilet, bringing Bella down with him.

"a tomar por culo," Bella swore under her breath, fighting to remove Luke's arm from her shoulder and free herself. He reeked of stale beer and she felt another pang of anger, successfully escaping his arm and falling flat on her ass on the ground, "okay..." she breathed out, sitting up, "okay. I'm going to bed."

"Bell," Luke whined, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the seat, germs be damned, "Bell, I don't feel well..."

"I wonder why," Bella scoffed, getting up and filling up a glass of water, because she was angry, not a monster. She planted it next to his knee, then shook her head in a displeased manner, "puke it up already, Lucas. You'll feel better in a second."

"My head hurtsss... Ssstay..." Lucas groaned, leaning on his arms and spitting in the water, his whole face scrunched up. Bella's heart squeezed, she wasn't immune to him whining, far from it, but she sobered up quickly when he retched loudly, bringing a large gush of vomit in the bowl, which smelt heavily of beer.

"I'm going to bed," she said coldly, turning and leaving the bathroom. If Bella thought she could sleep, she was sorely mistaken. She was wide awake and sulking, listening to Luke's horrible retching in their shared bathroom and telling herself it was his own fault, for probably trying — and failing, as always — to outdrink Vince.

As if the universe could tell what her thoughts were, Luke's phone started ringing inside the bathroom and he let out a loud groan. It was incessant and Bella waited for him to pick up, but after five minutes passed without the noise diminishing, she got up from the bed and stomped back in.

Luke was a sight to behold, he had somehow managed to puke down his shirt despite being right in front of the toilet and was leaning against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, face white. She frowned, a twinge of worry starting to blossom.

"Luke," Bella crouched down next to him, "your phone is ringing."

"Uhm," he groaned, wincing at her voice, "makeitssssstop."

She rolled her eyes, avoiding the sticky mess in the front of his shirt and fishing his phone out of his jeans pocket. Bella glared at the screen as it lit up with another call and a silly picture of Vince appeared, both middle fingers up and tongue sticking out.

"What?" Bella picked it up without thinking, her sharp voice causing Luke to groan and curl up more.

"Oh hi beautiful," Vince's voice was unbothered, accent thicker as it always was when he was drunk, "how are you?"

"What do you want, Vince?" and then before he could continue, she kept talking, "you've done enough for the night."

"Uhm...HIC!" Vince jumped with a giggly hiccup, "what did I do, Bells?"

"You know what," Bella scoffed, just as Luke convulsed right next to her and she was forced to squeeze the phone between her cheek and shoulder, grabbing his shoulder to pull him to lean over the bowl.

He had never been a quiet puker, so Vince definitely could tell. He let out a whine, "aww, Luke's sick?"

"What do you think? You know he can't keep up with you!" Now she was lashing out, Luke was a grown man and it was his fault for always getting so competitive, but whatever. To hell with it, "I swear if he's got alcohol poisoning, Vince, I'm hunting you d-"

"Bella, Luke didn't drink," Vince cut her off sharply, sounding much sober, "he was our designated driver, he had maybe a single glass before we drew straws, but that was hours ago."

Bella's heart sunk and she glanced down at Luke, shoulders trembling as he continued to heave, tears streaming down the corner of his eyes, "I- I don't believe you, he's reeking of beer, Vin..." now her voice was small and hesitant and a knot formed in her throat as Vince chuckled at her.

"Yeah, because Leo dropped his beer all over the car," Vince's voice elevated and in the far background she could faintly hear Wendy's voice saying something, "anyway, I just called to let him know I found his wallet. It's in my bag, I'll drop it off tomorrow."

"No," Bella shook her head, "no, I- I'll go get it tomorrow, I- Shit, I have to go," she hung up the phone and planted it on the sink, scooting closer on the ground to Luke, who had finished being sick but had no energy to flush or do anything else. He was breathing heavily, forehead pressed to the porcelain and eyes squeezed shut.

"Lu," Bella cringed at the nickname, feeling like she didn't deserve saying it, "babe, I'm so sorry-"

Lucas' face scrunched up in pain and he let out a groan, causing her to wince in sympathy and guilt.

"Sorry," Bella mumbled, rubbing his back, "let's get you out of this shirt, c'mon."

"Stop," his voice was strong and pained, "stop talking."

Bella nodded, snapping her mouth shut and gently rolling up the hem of his shirt. She pushed him back slowly, then stretched the neck of his shirt in order to pull it out without getting sick on his hair. Lucas curled up against the wall as soon as she was done and Bella grabbed the glass of water, that he had left untouched on the ground.

"Here," she said quietly, holding it up to his lips with one hand, the other one pushing his hair back and trying to inconspicuously feel for a fever.

Luke drank greedily, all but chugging the water and his frown cleared up slightly.

"Lights," he grumbled and that simple word caused Bella's stomach to sink. He wasn't sick, this was a migraine and somehow she hadn't been able to tell despite being present for a million of those before.

Bella jumped up to turn off the lights and heard his relieved sigh, so she carefully crawled closer to him once more.

"Luke," she whispered, barely making any sound, "baby, how can I help?"

"Hurts, Bell," he groaned, turning towards her voice and pressing his forehead to her clavicle, "it's like someone's drilling in my head..."

She wrapped her arms around him, getting on her knees to get some height and planted a kiss to his temple, feeling the pained shudders running up her husband's spine.

"Let's go to bed, Lu," Bella whispered, voice straining as she felt him slump more against her, "c'mon, it'll be more comfy."

He didn't nod, only let out a humm that she recognized as a positive noise and Bella clutched their sink in order to pull herself up while half holding him.

The minute he was upright, Luke let out a horrible wet noise and bent in the middle, vaguely turning in the direction of the toilet, but probably missing judging by the noise of liquid splashing against tiles, not water.

Bella cringed, but didn't jump, hugging him closer as he sobbed once again.

"Fuck, I'm-I'm sorry, I-"

"Shhh, it's okay," she kissed his shoulder, rubbing a hand up his naked back, "it's okay. Don't even worry about it," she tugged him back slightly and Luke stumbled, almost causing them to fall.

"It'samesss..." he slurred and Bella ignored it, pulling him to bed rushing to pull the covers from under him, before Lucas could collapse on top. He let out a huff as his face met the pillow and Bell sat on the edge, stroking his hair back.

"Try napping, I'll wake you up for meds in a bit," she whispered, guilt washing over her. Luke let out a noise in affirmation, not bothering to speak or nod.

He slumped further in the bed and she tucked the blankets around him, before getting up to deal with the mess in the bathroom. Once she finished cleaning everything, Bella grabbed Luke's migraine medication in the kitchen and a glass of water and slipped into the bed.

"Lu," she touched his arm, but didn't shake him, "baby, I need you to take your meds. Just a sip and you can go back to sleep."

He blinked blearily, having been not truly asleep, just dozing off. His eyes were a light, nearly grey shade of green, thanks to the bloodshot cornea and Bella sighed, stroking his cheek with a thumb, "I'm so sorry for not listening to you..."

Luke only gave her a minimal shrug, turning his face so he could press his nose to the middle of her palm and pressing a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Bella's heart squeezed even more, she didn't deserve this guy.

"Yell at me," she pouted, "be angry. Please."

Lucas let out a scoff, "shut up, Bell."

She draped herself over him, folding in the middle, arms and chest, all but shielding his head away on her lap and pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "I'm really sorry."

"Uhm... You should be," he yawned, his voice coming out muffled by her thigh, "don't move, this is nice."

"Okay," Bella whispered, hugging him closer, "not moving."

[gblogg]

Completely forgot to reblog this!

Boston Tea Party

A/N: This is something I've been wanting to write, to finish up Gabe and Logan's fight. I've got another idea for them coming, with Logan as sickie, but I had to write this first.

Gabe woke up the morning of his sister’s birthday celebration feeling kind of lousy.  Not horrible, but not great - his head felt a little heavy, his body a little achy, and his skin felt overly sensitive and prickly like it did when he was coming down with something.  He rolled over to tell Logan, or preferably to bury his head in her chest and complain for a minute, and then remembered she wasn’t there.  She hadn’t been there for the past three weeks actually, ever since he’d gotten drunk and high and acted like an ass and she’d nearly broken up with him.  He still hadn’t forgiven himself, and now was doing everything in his power to show his girlfriend how much she meant to him.  Which included giving her space to figure things out without the distraction of sex.

“I can’t make decisions based on the fact that we’re great together in bed,” she’d explained, and he’d quickly agreed, despite the fact that it was almost killing him not being able to touch her all the time.  

Especially now, when he wasn’t feeling well.  If it had been a weekday he might have decided to work from home, staying in his pajamas with his laptop on the bed.  Or any other Saturday he could have begged off from hanging out with the guys, curling up on the sofa and hoping Logan would come over instead. But today was Noa’s birthday, and she’d planned a big day of activities all over Boston for a group of their friends.  Gabe knew how much Logan was looking forward to it after a particularly tough week at work, and he really wanted to spend time with her doing something fun together.

And anyway, Noa’d kill him if he skipped, although he was less concerned about her than his girlfriend at the moment. 

He felt sluggish getting ready, and picked his warmest, coziest hoodie to wear over his t-shirt and jeans.  It was windy out, and there was a chill in the air that normally would have felt pleasant after the summer heat.  Today it only made him shiver uncomfortably as he walked out of the coffee shop in his lobby holding a latte and muffin he wasn’t even sure he wanted.  But the coffee would warm him up and the muffin would probably help too, somehow, so he finished them both while riding the T to the meeting point down by the seaport. 

Before, Gabe would have first taken a different line to go pick up Logan, but she’d told him during a FaceTime last night that she’d meet him there. Once again, he wanted to do what she wanted, soo he trudged alone to the stop that would take him straight to the water.  He was exhausted by the time he got to the station and slumped into an empty seat on the train even though he’d normally stand.  The coffee sloshed unpleasantly in his stomach along with the rocking of the subway, so he forced up a burp and grimaced at the taste.  He wasn’t exactly nauseous; it was just his other symptoms making a mess of his stomach too.  Nothing in his body felt really okay right now and for a second he considered texting Logan but just as quickly pushed the thought away. He didn’t want her to miss out today.  

If he was being really honest with himself, he was equally worried she’d just tell him to go back home and get in bed, alone.  And then think he wasn’t trying hard enough or didn’t want to be with her.  Or something.  So he took a deep breath.  It was just a little bug.  He could fake it.

There were at least 15 people waiting outside the City Hunt activity shack by the water, all of them wearing matching baseball hats that proclaimed they were part of “Noa’s Ark”. Gabe gave his sister a peck on the cheek and accepted his hat, all the while scanning the assembled group of his sister’s friends and coworkers.  As soon as he spotted his girlfriend his stomach did a weird somersault, which he chalked up to not feeling well.  After all, he saw her every day at work and they spoke or FaceTimed almost every night.  Everything between them was fine, if a little distant.  At least, that’s what he told himself.

And Logan’s smile when she saw him seemed genuine.  “Cold?” she teased.  “You’re wearing your comfy hoodie.”

Gabe tried not to feel anything about the fact that Logan knew what he called it - or think about the last time she’d worn it herself during a sleepover at his apartment.  Instead he gave a sheepish shrug.  “Maybe a little,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around himself.  “Leave it to my sister not to change her plans just because it’s freezing outside.”  

“Just be thankful it’s clear out because I suspect she’d make us do the scavenger hunt even in a downpour,” said Logan dryly.  “I already overheard her telling Drew to make sure he’s got Dramamine, because apparently there’s some activity that involves a boat.”  

He groaned.  “Seriously?  Noa gets seasick too, unless she thinks she’s immune on her birthday. We’re all going to be frozen by the time this is done.”  A gust of wind almost blew his baseball hat off and he shivered.  Logan looked suddenly concerned.

“It’s not that cold out; are you feeling okay?”  Her eyes searched his carefully, until he had to look away.  

“Yeah,” he muttered, not meaning it.  “Probably should have worn a warmer shirt under the hoodie.”  

“Hmm.” Logan didn’t look convinced and Gabe was just about to tell her he actually wasn’t feeling well, when the screech of a megaphone split the air and everyone got quiet.

“Damn, your sister doesn’t fuck around, does she?”  Drew jogged up to where Gabe and Logan were standing and then kept running in place in a funny approximation of someone athletic.  Gabe bit back a grin.  

“Never,” he agreed.  He considered jogging in place himself to warm up but just the thought of lifting his feet up and down that much exhausted him.  “Between her need to always be in control and Adam’s ego, you should have seen our family game nights.”  He was going to try to make a joke - something about avoiding bloodshed - but a wave of achiness made him lose his train of thought.  “Umm, yeah,” he stuttered instead. Logan gave him a sharp look.

“Are you . . .?” she began, but then Noa blared her megaphone again.  He gave her a tiny shake of his head. Logan pursed her lips but nodded back and then turned to listen to Noa welcoming everyone to her birthday scavenger hunt and then dividing them into teams. 

“Make sure you don’t take off your team armband; they’re color-coded,” she instructed as Rory walked around handing out strips of colored cloth.  “And make sure to select a team captain to keep track of your points.” She pointed out a poster with a QR code on it.  “All the information is there.”  

Gabe massaged his temples.  “It’s like the Settlers of Catan battle of 2017,” he groaned under his breath to Logan.  “Couldn’t she have just planned a bar crawl or something?”  

Logan patted his arm.  “We’ll do that for your birthday,” she said cheerfully, and he was momentarily distracted from his pain at the thought of Logan intending to still be around when he turned 26 later that year.  Her eyes narrowed.  “Do you have a headache?”  

For a moment he considered telling her he had a migraine, just to see if she’d insist he go home - and then come with him.  But he didn’t have a migraine, and he didn’t want to tempt fate - either with his head or his girlfriend. “No, just sick of that damn megaphone already.”  He forced a grin.  “Do you think we can throw it in the bay?”  

“Throw what in the bay? Surely not this military-grade medic’s kit your sister is making me tote around.”  Jeremiah appeared at Drew’s side.  He had a large, official-looking camouflage backpack on his shoulder that looked like something out of basic training. 

 Logan raised her eyebrows.  “You’re kidding, right?  You have to carry that?  What are we doing, refighting the Battle of Bunker Hill?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Jeremiah dryly. He lowered the pack to the ground and rubbed at his shoulders.  “Although Noa promised our team an extra five points since I’m carrying it.”  He raised his eyebrows. “She put herself and Rory on our team.”  

“Of course she did,” Gabe muttered.  He loved his sister, he really did, but when she got into one of her planning and organizing frenzies the best way to survive was to stay the hell out of her way.  Which didn’t seem to be an option today because he and Logan were also on her team.  He rubbed his hand across his face.  “Okay, what’s first?” 

“Freedom Trail trivia.” Both Logan and Noa spoke at the same time.  Logan held up her phone.  

“See, I was listening when you told us to scan the QR code.”  

“This is why we’re going to win, because we’re prepared and follow directions,” said Noa approvingly.  Both Rory and Gabe snorted.

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s your own birthday.”  Rory wrapped his arms around Noa from behind and leaned in to kiss her cheek.  

“Or that she’ll withhold cake later from anyone who beats her,” added Gabe.  He instinctively reached out to his own girlfriend and then stopped, uncertainty coursing through him.  Luckily Logan was busy looking at her phone and didn’t notice his hesitation.  He took a deep breath, trying to clear some of the fuzziness from his head. 

“I’ll fight for cake,” said Jeremiah solemnly.  He grabbed Drew’s hand.  “Shall we walk the Freedom Trail before General Noa gives us a court martial?” 

“Wait for us; we don’t want to get in trouble either.” Logan threaded her fingers through Gabe’s and tugged him forward.  He followed willingly, not able to stop himself from running his thumb across the back of her hand. 

“You’re not feeling great, are you?” Logan spoke under her breath as they walked.  Gabe shrugged, not willing to lie to her but also not wanting to make a big deal.  

“Just a cold, I think.”  He comforted himself with the thought that that could be the truth, if colds caused your body to go back and forth between feeling chilled and then overheated and prickly and your limbs to feel like they were full of sand and your head fuzzy and aching. He didn’t say any of that, instead adding, “I’ll grab some cough drops if we pass a CVS.”

Logan nodded, satisfied with his answer. “Not a migraine then?”  Her hand fluttered out in his direction and he swayed towards her, waiting for her touch and realization that he actually had a fever.  But instead she pulled out her phone and began scrolling.  

“Here, we have to answer questions about the Freedom Trail, and by the look on your sister’s face the first person to get one wrong gets pushed off the pier.”   Further down the Trail Drew was conferring with Jeremiah, both of them huddled together over one of their phones too, with Noa hovering over them and shouting answers.

Even though he’d been fully intending to lie about how he was feeling, Gabe was oddly disappointed not to have his illness confirmed.  He swallowed harshly against the thickness in his throat that wasn’t exactly nausea but still didn’t feel good.

“Don’t tell Noa I’m sick,” he said quickly.  

“Afraid she’ll trade you to another team?” Logan teased.  She tugged on his hand again.  “C’mon, we’d better go help.”

For a while he was able to keep up the facade.  Gabe answered trivia questions and then convinced Noa to let him hold the phone and record while the rest of their team made a Tik Tok with a couple of street performers.  But trying to count the total number of swan boats floating across the pond at Boston Garden made him dizzy, and he had to pretend he’d gotten something in his eye so he had an excuse to turn away.  

“The next one’s food-related.  Finally!”  Drew interrupted Gabe’s fake attempt to clear his vision with a hearty slap on the back. It worked up a belch he didn’t know he’d been holding down.

“Oof,” he said, rubbing his chest in mock pain.  “Been working out there?”  Still, the burp cleared some of the heaviness in his stomach and he sagged in relief.  Drew grinned. 

“Jeremiah keeps making me carry that damn medic’s pack, complaining his shoulder hurts.”  He glanced over at his boyfriend and then raised his voice so the rest of his sentence carried over to where he was.  “But I think he really just wants an excuse for me to give him a back rub later.”

Jeremiah nodded.  “Absolutely I’m getting a massage later,” he agreed, handing Drew the backpack.  “Will you carry this, babe?” 

“I hate you.”  Drew stuck out his tongue but picked up the pack anyway.  “Can we go eat now?  I’m starving.”  

“Yikes, let’s go then.”  Jeremiah grabbed his boyfriend’s hand. “I don’t know what would be worse, keeping you from food or messing up Noa’s schedule.”  

“I’m voting for my sister, but I’ve never seen Drew hungry,” said Gabe.  It felt like there was a slur to his words that he hoped no one else could hear over the gusty wind.  He shivered, and forced more energy into his voice.  “Do we just get to eat like normal humans or is there a competition here too?” 

“Come on, Team Blue!  We’ve got to be at Quincy Market in 8 minutes for the food race!”  Noa had thankfully put away the megaphone but her voice was loud enough anyway.  She and Rory both had their hats on backwards and were wearing identical “I Love Boston” sweatshirts Gabe was pretty sure they hadn’t been wearing at the start of the day.  Next to him, Logan snorted under her breath.

“Should we get matching hoodies too?  You look like you could use an extra layer.” She wrapped her arm around Gabe and squeezed and he tried not to let himself collapse against her. 

“Sounds . . . sounds good,” he stuttered, her casual comment making him feel weirdly off-balance.  “Can we start with matching hot chocolates though?” 

“Only if it’s on your sister’s list.”  Logan tugged his hand through the door of the food hall.  “C’mon.” 

The scavenger hunt did not include hot chocolate, but it did have a “Drink and then Dump into the Boston Harbor” tea.  Gabe drank his as quickly as he could without burning his mouth and then poured the last few dregs into a model of the Harbor.  The tea warmed him up but also made him feel unusually full, considering it was the first thing he’d consumed since his coffee and muffin.  He was going to suggest they sit down to rest when the appearance of the two other teams at the entrance to the market made Noa squeal.  “They caught up!”

“Oh no, whatever will we do?” Gabe muttered quietly enough that only Logan and Drew were close enough to hear.  

“I don’t remember, was she like this last year?” the nurse asked as the three of them walked - too quickly in Gabe’s opinion - to where Noa was standing with Rory and Jeremiah, gesturing to them to hurry up.  Despite feeling like he was wading through molasses, Gabe snorted.

“You mean you’ve already forgotten the apple picking contest?”  He looked at his girlfriend.  “We went to an orchard upstate and Noa organized relay races for everyone on our hayride.”

“Oh right.  And then she and Rory snuck off to ‘get lost’ in the corn maze.”  

Logan made a sound of surprise. “They had sex in the corn maze?” Gabe wasn’t sure if he imagined the hitch in her voice.  He nodded. 

“While the rest of us were off feeding goats at the petting zoo.  Took them forever to find their way out.”

“So they said,” added Drew with a smirk.  “Personally I prefer to have sex someplace a little less . . . organic.”  

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Logan casually.  “I’ve had some pretty amazing sex outdoors.”

Gabe’s mouth felt suddenly dry.  “Me . . .me too,” he managed, trying not to think too hard about the two of them on the beach last summer.  Another shiver of discomfort washed over him. Damn, why was his body acting up today, when it seemed like his girlfriend was actually into flirting with him again?  He swallowed hard.  “Lots . . . lots of sand though.”  He nudged her with his hip.  “The shower afterwards wasn’t bad either.”  

Logan gave him a pleased smile and Gabe felt a thrum of relief that his attempts to hide how crappy he felt were working.

Because the truth was, he was feeling worse. Even though they were indoors, he couldn’t stop shivering, and the cottony feeling in his head had given way to a dull, thumping ache. Luckily, Quincy Market was noisy and crowded with tourists, so he let Logan pull him along from stall to stall, trying not to trip over his feet as they ran around to find, photograph, and consume something Asian, something Italian, something American, and something sweet. By the time they were finished Gabe felt like his body - and especially his stomach - was weighed down with bricks, and it was a relief when Noa gave them a break to use the bathroom, even though she warned them “they better be back in five minutes or she was coming in after them.”

Gabe used the urinal and then hovered over the sink, running his hands under the warm water for longer than was really necessary.  “Your girlfriend is on a serious power trip today,” he muttered when Rory joined him at the sinks.  

His best friend just smiled indulgently.  “It’s so cute how much she loves her birthday.  I’m surprising her with a night at the Ritz later; I’ve got the suite all set up with flowers and candles already.”  He grimaced.  “At least, I hope it’s a surprise; it’s really hard to get anything past her.”  

“Maybe you should just whisk her off there now; she won’t be expecting that,” Gabe suggested.  And then the rest of them could go home.  But Rory just laughed. 

“And deprive her of the opportunity to award herself the medal for winning the scavenger hunt?  No way.”  He clapped Gabe on the back.  “Better get out there, your five minutes are almost up.”

He left the bathroom and Gabe spit into the sink - something that tasted like the shrimp dumpling he’d eaten at the Asian stall - and then slowly followed.  He’d managed to fake his way through this damn birthday so far, he could make it another few hours. How bad could the rest be after a big lunch?

Bad.  As in, a kayak race across the Harbor, bad.  He stared, swaying, at the sight of the other 23 members of Noa’s birthday celebration cheerfully grabbing life jackets and paddles while Noa - who’d pulled out the damn megaphone again - explained the course.  

“Down past the first buoy, around the green one, over to the far pier to grab one of your team flags, and then back.  First team to plant all six of their flags back here wins.”  She pointed at a big flower pot filled with dirt.  “Now let's go!”

There was no way Gabe was going to be able to do this.  Fastening the life vest squeezed his stomach uncomfortably and the two-sided paddle felt heavy in his hand before he could even begin to think about getting himself through his sister’s obstacle course.  But Logan was grinning at him and gesturing at the boat right next to hers and he couldn’t just stand there and let her go alone, so he took a deep breath and climbed in.  She immediately leaned over.

“All that talk earlier about fooling around outdoors got me thinking,” she said in a low voice. Her eyes sparkled.  “What if we ‘accidentally’ got lost and ended up under one of the piers? Think we could link our kayaks together?”  

Gabe gulped.  “Sounds . . . sounds fun,” he said dully, unable to muster up any fake energy.  Logan’s eyes narrowed as she watched him awkwardly shuffle in his seat.  

“Are you . . .” she began, but then a whistle screeched through the air and one of the boat rental workers pushed him off, out into the water.

It was freezing; as soon as they were a couple of boat-lengths away from land it felt like the wind was going straight through him, nearly taking his breath away.  Cold water splashed up the sides of the kayak and onto his legs as he paddled blindly, his arms feeling so heavy he wasn’t sure he was even moving forward.  Peering blearily towards the first buoy, he could see that everyone else was ahead of him, and he leaned forward, trying to force his sluggish body to keep working for just a little while longer.  He squinted, wondering which of the boats held his girlfriend, when suddenly his own kayak jerked to the side.  

“You’re sick, aren’t you?  Like, more than a cold, sick.”  Logan had grabbed onto the side of his kayak and was holding it next to hers.  Her eyes studied his face.  “You actually look terrible.”

Gabe couldn’t even joke.  “Feel terrible,” he croaked.  He shivered, but couldn’t wrap his arms around himself without dropping the paddle. Logan reached out her hand to cup his jaw.  Her eyes opened wide.

“Fuck, Gabe, you’re burning up; I can feel it even through the wind.”  She somehow tugged him closer and he let his head fall onto her shoulder.  The kayak tilted dangerously but he couldn’t get himself to move.  “How long have you been feeling bad, sweetheart?”

Logan hadn’t called him that in weeks.  Her breath was warm on his cheek and his eyes prickled. 

“Woke up achy,” he croaked.  “Got worse.”  His eyes found hers.  “Wanna go home.”

“I’m taking you home, now,” she said firmly, and for the first time that day Gabe let his body relax just a fraction because he didn’t have to fake anything anymore.  

Somehow Logan managed to get both of their kayaks turned around towards the pier again.  “You’re going to have to paddle, I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lip.  “I don’t think I can pull you.”  

“S’okay,” he slurred.  “I got it.”  Luckily the wind, which had been working against him as he tried to paddle forward, was now at their backs. He didn’t have to do much more than stay upright and kind of steer until they were back, one of the dock workers hauling him up and onto the pier.  He collapsed, shivering, onto a bench, breathing as heavily as if he’d run a marathon.  Logan unhooked his life jacket and helped ease it off his shoulders.  He grunted at the release of pressure around his middle.  

“Wait here, I need to turn in our paddles and get our stuff out of the locker.”  Her hand was on his cheek again, and then his forehead.  “And I want to see if they have meds in the office; we’ll get you more tea on the way back, okay?”  Her voice was as gentle as her touch.

Gabe’s stomach rolled at the thought of putting more in it, but the cold in his bones won out. “‘Kay,” he gasped.  “Thanks.”   Logan walked off and he leaned forward and put his head in his hands because it felt too heavy to hold up.  He sat there, letting the touristy noises of the pier float around him, not paying any attention, until a pissed-off sounding voice broke through the haze of his fever.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?  The scavenger hunt’s not done yet.”  Noa didn’t have her megaphone, but her voice went right through Gabe’s aching head.  He peered up at her. There were a number of people standing around them and he started to struggle to his feet until a hand on his shoulder pushed him firmly back onto the bench. 

“Don’t try to get up; I’ve got you.”  Logan was standing behind him and he leaned back to rest his head on her stomach.  Her fingers carded through his hair.  “I’m taking Gabe home; he’s sick.”  Logan’s voice was as loud as his sister’s, but somehow it didn’t bother him.  

“He doesn’t look sick; Gabe, if this is your way of running off to fool around with your girlfriend, then I’m . . . “

“What the hell do you mean, he doesn’t look sick?”  Logan’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “He’s burning up, which you’d have realized if you’d looked at him instead of your schedule for more than two seconds.”  There was a collective murmur around them and Gabe felt something loosen in his chest.  He put his hand up to grab Logan’s.  She squeezed back. “He’s been hiding it all day because he didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Actually, he hadn’t wanted to disappoint his girlfriend, but even sick he knew better than to correct her.  “S-s-sorry, Noa,” he slurred tiredly.  “I really tried to stay.”  Now that he wasn’t hiding it anymore, Gabe felt a hundred times worse. He swayed in his seat.  

His sister’s lips tightened.  “If you’re really that sick, why the hell did you come in the first place?  Now the teams are all off balance.”  Next to him, Gabe heard Logan huff.

“That’s what’s upsetting you? That the teams aren’t even now?  C’mon, Noa; your brother’s really sick.”

“He really doesn’t seem . . .Noa began again, when there was a flurry of movement off to the side; Rory had come up and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. Gabe caught his eye, but he just shrugged, knowing just as well as Gabe that this was not a discussion to get involved in right now.

“Whoa, okay, let the medics through. That’s right, move away.”  Jeremiah and Drew both knelt in front of him. Drew pressed his hand to Gabe’s forehead and whistled.  “I’d say you’re close to 102, sweetheart; you need to be in bed.”  

He didn’t have the energy to tell the man that that’s what he’d wanted all day.  He nodded, while Jeremiah pressed something into his free hand.  

“Can you take these?  They'll help with the fever.”  Gabe swallowed the pills with a gulp of water from the bottle someone handed him and then slumped back against Logan.  

“Can we go?” he mumbled into the air.  “‘M’ tired.” 

Fortunately, Logan heard him.  “Just called the Uber; here, drink some of this while we wait.”  She handed him a steaming paper cup.

“Kay,” he said exhaustedly.  Even moving his mouth felt like too much effort right now.  A deep shiver ran through him.  “When?” 

“About 12 minutes; there’s traffic.” She tugged on his arm.  “Actually, we have to walk to the pickup point, can you make it a block?”

“I’m not . . . dying, Lo.”  Gabe managed to give his girlfriend a small smile and she gave him a sheepish grin back.

“Sorry; habit,” she said, helping him slowly to his feet.  

Gabe wanted to tell her that he liked it, but being upright made the whole world tilt for a moment.  He rocked, and she put her arm around his waist.  “Careful now; looks like I wasn’t wrong, being over protective.”  

“You’re never wrong.”  They began shuffling across the sidewalk. If there were still other people around, he wasn’t aware of them anymore; even Jeremiah and Drew and his sister and Rory felt very far away right now.  As did the Uber stop; Gabe felt like he barely had the energy to lift up his feet to keep moving.

“Sorry you had to leave,” he said after another few steps, stumbling on the sidewalk and spilling some of the tea on his hand.  “I know you were looking forward to the party.”  He raised his head to look at his girlfriend.

Something flashed in Logan’s eyes.  “I was looking forward to being with you,” she said fiercely.  “And that’s what I’m doing.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry you’re sick but I’m not sorry to leave.”  Her mouth twisted. “Your sister probably hates me though.”  There was a bench at the street corner, and he lowered himself down with a groan of relief. 

“I liked it when you told her off,” he said with a small smile.  “She needed it.”

“She’s a very good organizer,” Logan allowed.  “But today was a bit much.”  She bit her lip.  “Maybe because I wanted to spend time with just you.”  She nudged his side. “Drink your tea.”

Gabe took a few small swallows and then burped softly under his breath.  “Me . . . me too,” he said, hiccuping. He still wasn’t sure his stomach wanted all the tea, but it was warming him up, so he kept drinking.  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, though.”

“I know.”  Logan sounded kind of guilty.  “I’m sorry I’ve been so . . . vague, lately.”  Gabe shook his head until the movement made him dizzy.

“No, he said, trying and failing to sound firm.  “Don’ be sorry.”  The Uber pulled up just then and he collapsed into the backseat next to Logan.  “It was all my fault.”  He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, gulping when the car pulled away from the curb with a jerk.  Another air bubble rose in his chest and he burped softly off to the side, frowning at the rest of his tea.  “I wanna . . . wanna talk more.  When I feel better.”  RIght now his head was so fuzzy he wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow anything she said.  He burped again.

“Later,” she agreed, pulling him against her side. “Close your eyes; I’ll tell you when we get there.” 

So Gabe let the motion of the Uber lull him into an uneasy rest.  Even though he wasn’t as horribly cold as when they’d been outside, his body and head both ached even worse than earlier, and now his stomach was sloshing uncomfortably from too much tea and food.  “Glad I didn’t have . . . uhhrp . . . cake,” he mumbled, belching under his breath. “Not  hungry.” 

“You’re burping a lot; are you sick to your stomach?”  Logan’s hand rested on his middle.  It chose that moment to give a thick gurgle and he shrugged. 

“I don’ know; jus’ full I think.”  Actually, he felt vaguely queasy but it felt like too much work to explain. He burped again, relieved to feel the Uber slowing down and coming to a stop.  He looked around in confusion.  “You’re going home?” His already upset stomach rolled; he’d thought she was coming to his apartment.  

Logan shook her head.  “You’re coming in with me; it’s closer than yours.” She began scooting across the seat, tugging him with her.

Gabe hadn’t been to Logan’s apartment since their fight.  He stumbled out of the car and right into her arms.  “Thank you,” he mumbled into her neck.  She was nearly a foot shorter than he was but right now folded against her like a rag doll.  She kissed his neck, understanding what he meant.

“It’s more than time,” she said, taking his hand.  He trudged slowly up the stairs to her second floor unit and leaned against the wall, burping quietly into his fist, while she opened the door.  Inside, he stumbled over to her sofa.  Mindful of both his stomach and the novelty of being back here, he sat carefully instead of flopping down like he used to. “Thank god,” he mumbled.  “No way I could’ve stayed for the rest of Noa’s . . . thing.”  The cushion next to him dipped with Logan’s weight and he immediately slumped back into her like he had in the Uber.  “You’re warm.  I like it.”  

Her soft chuckle made his stomach slosh, and he swallowed.  “I’m not gonna be much fun,” he said mournfully.  “I wanted to spend time with you.”  

“We are spending time, even if you’re half asleep; I’m just glad you’re here.”  Logan rested her hand on the back of his neck.  “You’re still really warm, love; I’d hoped the meds would have helped by now.”

“Soon,” he muttered.  He rested his hand over his face, feeling completely wretched.  Logan squeezed his thigh.

“Sweetheart, let’s get you in bed, okay?  You don’t have to try to stay up for me.”

He knew that, but he was all at once too hot and too cold and too tired and too achy.  And too full; his bloated stomach eclipsing all his other symptoms for the moment.  He burped into his fist again.  “I think I need to throw up first,” he groaned, palming his side.  “My belly’s too upset to let me lie down.” He opened his eyes. “Can we go sit in the bathroom?” She nodded.

“Of course; or you can get on my bed and I can get a bucket.”  

“You’re too good to me; I”m not puking in your bed.”  Gabe managed a soft snort before his stomach rolled over again. He gagged off to the side.  “Anyway, I don’t think it’ll take long.”  

“Are you going to be able to hold yourself up over the toilet, or do I need to worry about drowning?  Maybe I should have brought home the life vest,” Logan teased.  She tugged at the back of his hoodie.  “Here, why don’t you take this off?”

He lowered himself slowly to the floor in front of the toilet.  “Cause you’ll steal it,” he mumbled, leaning forward to spit out ropey brown saliva.  

“I’ll borrow it,” she corrected.  He spit again and she sighed. “I think we’re about to have our own Boston tea party, dumping it into the water,” she added dryly.  

Gabe choked out a laugh that was half a sob. “God, I missed you.”  He looked back over his shoulder, feeling shaky and sick.  “I . . . I’ve been trying so hard, Lo.  To show you.”  His stomach lurched with a stronger gag and Logan gently turned his shoulders back over the bowl.

“I know,” she said quietly.  Her fingers trailed up and down his back, working up a thicker belch. “I know you have; I could tell.”  She stopped talking when Gabe gave a harsher retch. 

“Good,” he panted. He knew he didn’t have much more time before his lunch and all that tea came up, but unlike the night of their fight, he didn’t feel so desperate to say everything he needed to first.  Except for one thing. “Cause I really love you.” He retched again.

“And I really love you too.”  She sounded more sure than Gabe had heard her in weeks.  “Even when you’re puking.”  

“Gonna do that now,” he panted.  The nausea spiked and he heaved up his stomach contents in two efficient gushes, burping in between.  After one more choking retch, his stomach settled, but a wave of intense achiness and cold followed immediately in its wake, reminding him that he actually didn’t have a stomach bug.  He rested his head directly on the toilet seat and closed his eyes.  Logan tugged on his shoulder. 

“Are you done?  Let’s get you in bed; I have some of your pajama pants here.”

Gabe shook his head. “Gonna sleep here,” he mumbled.  “Comfy.”  

“You can bring your hoodie with you,” Logan promised.  “And if you get in bed, I’ll get in too and we can cuddle.” 

That was probably the only thing that could have pried Gabe’s head  off the toilet at the moment.  

“Lemme brush my teeth,” he slurred. “Then bed.”  

His girlfriend kissed his shoulder.  “Sounds like a perfect night.”

[gblogg]

Daniel gets the flu

--------

Something I wrote to stretch my fingers and get back into the feeling of writing. It's nothing special, but it's something.

Daniel had always prided himself on his strong immune system, especially given his job as a preschool teacher, constantly surrounded by sneezes, coughs, and runny noses. But today was different. He could feel it as he left work, his stomach churning uncomfortably. By the time he reached his car, he was sweating and shivering simultaneously. 

Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he fumbled for his phone and typed out a quick message to Luna.

D: Lu, I’m feeling awful. Think I caught something from the kids. I'm heading home now :(

As he started the car, his phone buzzed with her reply.

Lu: Oh no, babe. Come home quickly. I’ll be here waiting for you.

The drive home felt endless, each bump in the road exacerbating the nausea that had settled deep in his stomach. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was certain he wouldn’t make it inside without being sick.

Stumbling out of the car, Daniel made his way to the front door, fumbling with the keys. The door swung open, and Luna was there, her face a mix of concern and love.

“Baby, you look terrible,” she said, reaching out to steady him.

Daniel groaned, his face pale and clammy. “I feel worse than I look,” he admitted, barely able to keep his voice steady. “I think it’s the stomach flu.”

Luna guided him inside, her touch gentle but firm. “Let’s get you to bed,” she said, leading him towards their bedroom. But halfway down the hall, Daniel’s stomach lurched violently.

He wasn’t able to speak as he started feeling his lunch in his throat. He bolted for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he started vomiting.

The force of it made him gag and heave, his body emptying itself with a violent intensity. He gripped the edge of the toilet bowl, his knuckles white, as wave after wave of nausea wracked his body. Luna knelt beside him, rubbing his back soothingly.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it out,” she murmured, her voice calm and comforting.

Daniel retched again, a loud, guttural sound that echoed in the small bathroom. His stomach spasmed painfully, expelling its contents in a series of agonising heaves. He gasped for breath between bouts, tears streaming down his face from the effort.

“Ugh, this is horrible..” he managed to say between retches, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know, D. Just get it all out,” Luna said, continuing to rub his back. Her presence was a balm to his misery, grounding him as his body purged itself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the vomiting subsided. Daniel slumped against the cool porcelain of the toilet, completely spent. Luna handed him a damp washcloth, and he wiped his face with a shaky hand.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling weak and lightheaded. 

Luna smiled softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Which one of them gave you this now? Don’t tell me it was Megan. Poor thing is always sick.”

Daniel chuckled weakly, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “I honestly don’t know which one it was this time,” He burped lightly against his fist, grimacing slightly.

She helped him to his feet, guiding him to the sink where he rinsed his mouth out. “Straight to bed with you,” she said again, and this time, he didn’t resist.

Once in the bedroom, Luna tucked him in, placing a trash can beside the bed just in case. “Do you need anything? Water? Ginger ale?”

“Just you,” he said, reaching out for her hand.

She climbed into bed beside him, wrapping her arms around him. “Alright, alright. Try to rest.”

Daniel closed his eyes, comforted by her warmth and presence. But sleep was elusive. The nausea, while less intense, still simmered in his stomach, and every so often he’d moan softly in discomfort.

“I really hope this is a 24-hour bug,” he said after a while, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I hope so too” she added, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his back. She kissed his forehead, whispering. “Okay, go to sleep”

Daniel smiled, “Did you just shush me?” Luna giggled at that and hugged him tighter. 

They lay together in silence for a while, the room dark and quiet except for the occasional groan from Daniel as his stomach continued to churn. Luna’s presence was a constant comfort, and she loved a steady anchor in the storm of his illness.

Just as he was starting to drift off, another wave of nausea hit, and he bolted upright, reaching for the trash can. Luna was right there with him, rubbing his back as he retched again, his body convulsing with the effort.

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it out,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm to his misery.

He heaved again, his stomach empty but still spasming painfully. When it finally subsided, he collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent. “Fuck..” he muttered.

Hours passed in a blur of nausea and brief moments of fitful sleep. Luna’s unwavering presence made the ordeal a little more bearable, and as the night wore on, he began to feel a glimmer of hope that the worst was behind him.

By the early hours of the morning, the nausea had finally started to subside. Daniel lay in bed, exhausted but grateful for Luna’s care. “Thank you, Lu,” he said, his voice hoarse from vomiting. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she replied, snuggling close to him. “Now, try to get some rest. We’ll get you feeling better soon.”

Daniel nodded, closing his eyes as he let himself relax into the comfort of her embrace. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Luna by his side, someone who loved him unconditionally, no matter what. 

[gblogg]

The speed at which you write is crazy!! @bellysoupset

Sick Max + Caretaker Vince - Part 2

-----------------------------

Wendy was a Tylenol and a cup of chamomile tea into sleep when her phone started ringing, from across the room.

It was the age old technique of leaving her phone out of reach so she'd be forced to get up to turn off the alarm and not risk falling back asleep in the process. Normally she was such a heavy sleeper than even this didn't stop her from sleeping past at least two alarms.

So it was much to her annoyance when she pushed her sleeping mask off and it wasn't 8 AM as it should be, but instead dark out. For a second Wendy considered not getting up, however the ringing was insistent and she was too curious to just go back to sleep.

P.Magnt - flashed across the screen, over a picture of Vince all sweaty, cheeks ablaze and curls a mess, in his football uniform. Wendy's heart plummeted to her stomach.

"Vin? What's wrong? It's the middle of the night-"

"Hey, hey, hey-" His voice was steady and soothing and Wendy let out a sigh, settling back against the pillows, still upright, but not as straight, "easy, honey. I'm fine."

"Uhm," she yawned, "the why are you calling me at-" Wendy squinted at her too bright screen, "two forty five AM?"

"I'm really sorry to wake you up, Wen," Vince sounded tired, but not sleepy in the least, "I just need your expertise for a minute, because Google is telling me fuck-all."

"...What is it?" Wendy yawned, sliding down on the bed and pulling sleeping mask down once more.

She heard shuffling around, then Vince cursing and faintly, far in the background, the noise of someone coughing, "when should I be worried about dehydration if someone is throwing up non stop...?"

"God," she groaned, "please don't say you're sick, Vin-"

"No! No, not me, I'm fine," he hurried to soothe her, "Daniels, my coworker."

"Oh, I know who Daniels is," Wendy couldn't help but tease him, "how long he's been sick for?"

"I don't know, uhm- Since around ten... I think ten, yeah."

She tried to do the count, landed in a vague four hours and left it at that, "he's got diarrhea as well?"

"Nope, don't think so. Not on my watch, at least."

Wendy smiled, wrinkling her nose. In another life, he should've been a health professional, "he's dizzy? Lost consciousness?"

"Dizzy, yeah, but very conscious. Pain in my ass," Vince's voice got louder, clearly meaning for the other guy to hear it. In the background, Wendy heard a door opening and a loud groan, "we got a medic at the resort, but he doesn't want me to take him there."

"It's embarrassing," Wendy heard Max say, voice all husky, "humiliating."

"So is dying during the kid's field trip," Vince pointed out, but Wendy interrupted before he decided to elaborate in the bickering.

"Vin, I think he's out of trouble. Give him an hour before trying liquids again, then try ice chips every other 15 minutes, and only after you empty two cups he's allowed to have sips of water. Just sips!"

"Yes, ma'am," Vince answered cheekily, voice thickening up with a yawn, "alright, so I don't have to worry he's dying? It's been non-stop."

"Not unless he starts losing consciousness or you notice a very dry mouth, if he still has liquid to bring up its generally a good sign," Wendy turned on her side, snuggling up her phone, "take him-" she yawned, "take him to the med bay if the puking doesn't taper off in 4 hours."

"Alright," Vince let out a sigh, "thank you, honey. And I'm sorry for waking you up-"

"No," Wendy smiled, "it was nice hearing your voice, I was sad you didn't call before bed. Now I know why."

"Yeah, sorry, it's been a mess," Vince sounded wounded, "I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

"You better," Wendy yawned once more, "I'm going back to sleep, text me in the morning about your patient, nurse Monacelli. Love you."

"Love you too and thank you again," she heard a noise like Vince sending her a kiss and Wendy grinned to herself, letting her phone fall between her pillows, not bothering to hang up.

-----------

Max was curled up on his side, shivering non stop and Vince didn't like it one bit. The puking he could handle, the fever...

"Hey, let's try the ice chips," Vince crouched down, sitting on the side of his coworker's bed and the blonde simply curled up more at the jostling of the bed.

"Won't stay down," he croaked, causing Vin to roll his eyes.

"Nothing to stay down," he pointed out how small the ice chips were, holding a spoonful up to Max' cracked lips, "c'mon, man, otherwise I'll have no choice but take you to the med bay here."

"Noo-URGHP-" his whine morphed into a burp and Max scrambled to sit up, but he was long empty and didn't bring anything up despite the heaving. He let out a groan, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, "my head is killing me."

"Because you need to drink something," Vince pushed the spoon closer to the other man's mouth and he fully expected Max to slap his hand away, but instead the blonde opened his mouth obediently and took the ice.

His grimace melted away at the sensation of the cold melting ice and he took in another spoonful, letting out a unsatisfied noise when Vince put the paper cup away.

"Sorry, we'll try in fifteen minutes," Vince winced in sympathy and Max nodded, falling back against the pillows and curling up, wrapping both arms around his stomach.

It was unnerving to see the guy so down for the count, it made Vince want to shake him like a rattle toy. Instead, he fixed the room, washing the trashbin in the bathroom and setting it back down next to Max's head, covering the guy with a thin blanket and finally falling into bed.

It was around 5 AM when Vince woke up with stirring. He was an incredibly light sleeper, so this wasn't surprising. For a minute he just lied there, trying to figure out what was happening, only to hear a choked up sob and the noise of liquid hitting plastic.

"Aw, man," Vince yawned, stumbling out of his bed and crossing the dark room, "there's no way you got anything to bring up..."

Max hiccupped, then let out a pitiful moan, "kill me, Vince."

"In Canada? I'll get in too much trouble for it to be worth it," Vince teased, planting a hand on the man's trembling back. Sleepy as he was, he couldn't hold back from how touchy he was.

Max let out a little shaky chuckle, moving on the bed in order to muffle a sick burp against the pillow, "my eyes hurt..." he mumbled, sounding more than a little drowsy.

"Hold on," Vince yawned, walking to the bathroom. He grabbed the little hand towel, then folded it in half and ran it under the water tap, before returning to the room. It wasn't as dark anymore, the sun just starting to appear in the cloudy horizon, bathing the room in dark grey color.

He crouched next to bed, wrinkling nose as he got a clearer view of the bin, with only some cloudy water sitting inside of it, "c'mere-" Vince instructed softly, grabbing the blonde's bicep and forcing him to uncurl, so he facing up instead of having his face buried in the pillow, then he planted the humid washcloth over the man's forehead and eyes.

The effect was immediate, Max's whole body melted against the mattress, tension leaving him, "whoa... Thanks..."

"No problem," Vince shrugged, grabbing the bin, "try to sleep."

Daniels nodded and Vince went back to the bathroom to clean out the bin. Once he was back, Max was snoring softly, seemingly not in pain, his face slack.

Vince yawned in his fist, stumbling back to bed and rolling on his side, hoping to get a couple more hours to sleep before their alarm went off at 8 AM.

As soon as he was up once again, he was checking on his co-worker-rival-friend. Max was curled up, the washcloth had fallen from his forehead, but the head had diminished considerably, to the point Vince let out a relieved sigh.

The blonde stirred slightly with the touch, frowning and opening his eyes, "what...?"

"Nothing," Vince shook his head, "just checking your fever, go back to sleep."

"Uhm-" his eyes slipped close once more, but he frowned, "what time is it? Do I have to get up? The stude-"

"I got them," Vince ruffled Max's hair without thinking, then pulled back his hand, cringing to himself. Thankfully Daniels was too out of it to think about the gesture.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, get some rest." Vince stepped away from the bed, but not before he heard Max's little:

"Thank you, Vin..."

[gblogg]

You always make intro fics so good, Lis!! This is awesome

Adam

A/N: Meet Noa's twin brother. I have more to say at the end, but for now just know that he's been in my brain almost since I started writing but I wasn't sure where and how he fit into everyone's world. I know now, although I'm still not exactly sure whether he's going to become a regular OC or just make appearances here and there.

C/W for sexual banter and a little N S F W talk and a tiny bit of action but not explicit.

Drew was completely in love with his boyfriend.  His handsome, clean-cut, blonde boyfriend who looked enough like Prince Henry from Red, White and Royal Blue that more than one person at the hospital had teased him about it.  And of course, most of why he loved Jeremiah had nothing to do with how attractive he was; that was just the icing on the cake.

But the unfamiliar man standing in Noa and Rory’s kitchen demonstrating how to make espresso martinis made Drew want to take up coffee drinking on the spot - preferably if it could be sipped out of the dimple in the guy’s chin.  He’d gotten used to how attractive Rory was but holy fuck, this specimen - tousled dark hair and a jaw you could cut glass on - was next level.  Especially when the stranger’s eyes - these perfect, Aegean-Sea blue eyes - lit up at the sight of the new arrivals. 

Or one new arrival, at least.

“Miah!  Oh. My. God.  How did you get even more handsome?”  Without waiting for an answer, the man put down his cocktail shaker and grabbed Jeremiah around the shoulders before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips that was almost . . . lingering.  He pulled back and gave an appreciative sigh.  “Damn, I’ve missed kissing you.  You’re almost as good at it as me now, sweetheart.”  

Jeremiah chuckled.  “You can tell from that little peck?  If I remember correctly, you told me that only grandmothers and uptight assholes kissed without tongue.”  He reached behind him and grabbed Drew’s hand, pulling him forward. “Which is a lesson I live by every time I make out with my boyfriend.”  He threw his arm comfortably around Drew’s waist.  “Drew Thorton, meet Adam Calder, Noa’s twin brother.” 

Once he heard the name, it made sense why the guy was so good looking, but Drew still felt rattled.  He’d been hearing stories about Noa’s San Francisco-based, political consultant brother for almost as long as he and Jeremiah had been together, but had never met him, and now he wondered if the guy’s hotness and obvious charm were part of the reason why.  Indeed, Adam gave Drew an appraising look before suddenly grinning and holding out his hand.

“You’re welcome.”  

Drew knew what the man meant but he was still surprised by his boldness.  He shook his hand anyway.  “Uhh, thank you?” 

Adam laughed.  “You do know what you’re thanking me for, don’t you?”  He turned his attention to Jeremiah.  “I would hope and expect you to tell everyone exactly why you’re so good in bed, Miah sweetheart.”  He laughed at his own joke.  “Get it? “My-a Sweetheart?” 

“Adam, for god’s sake, give the guy a break!”  Noa walked into the kitchen and knocked her brother on the shoulder.  “You promised you’d behave.”  

Adam grinned, unrepentant.  “This is me behaving, No-no.”  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then pushed one of the glasses he’d been mixing across the granite island.  “Have a drink; you’re too tense.  You too, Miah.”  He pushed another martini in Jeremiah’s direction.  “Do you like espresso, Drew?”

In fact, Drew hated strong coffee; it tended to upset his stomach.  He nodded vigorously anyway.  “Love it,” he said quickly, picking up one of the stemmed glasses and taking a big swig.  Jeremiah gave him an odd look but didn’t say anything.  Drew smacked his lips.  “Delicious,” he proclaimed, even though the mix of bitter and sweet and alcohol almost made him want to gag.  But he’d be damned if he showed any weakness in front of the man who’d been almost solely responsible for his boyfriend’s sexual awakening. He threw back the rest of the drink.  

“Best espresso martini I’ve ever had,” he said, not bothering to mention it was also the only one he’d ever had.  There was a slight over-heartiness to his tone that he could hear, but wasn’t quite able to tamp down.  But Adam just nodded as if he’d expected nothing less.

“I’ve gotten really into mixology lately; the precision of it really appeals to me, since my work life is so unpredictable.”  He leaned forward towards Drew, resting his elbows on the counter.  “I guess you know a bit about chaotic work life too, don’t you, Drew?  Noa tells me you’re a nurse.”  He waved his hand in Jeremiah’s direction.  “I imagine you’re the one who really makes guys like this look good, huh?”  Do all the heavy lifting so the doctors can swoop in and take all the credit?”  

Drew smirked despite himself.  “Exactly.”  He turned and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand.  “Still wondering exactly what they taught him in medical school.”  Adam barked out a laugh.

“Hmm, I seem to recall a couple of anatomy lessons.” The man’s voice turned suggestive.  “Isn’t that what you were studying when I came to visit Noa in college, Miah?  You were a damn good student, if memory serves.” 

“And you were a damn good instructor.”  Jeremiah let go of Drew’s hand so he could wrap both arms around his waist.  “Although I’ve definitely gotten better these past few years.” He tilted his head to kiss Drew’s cheek.  Adam gave the couple an appraising look.

“I’m sorry I won’t get to find out for myself, then.”  He cocked his head.  “I won’t, right?”

“No,” said Drew quickly.  Too quickly, he thought a second later; the guy had to be joking.  He forced his face into a smile and his voice light.  “And I think I need another martini before I’m ready for the rest of this conversation.”  That was the right thing to say; both Adam and Jeremiah laughed, and Jeremiah pressed himself purposefully against Drew’s backside. Adam’s face relaxed into an easy, ridiculously attractive grin.

“That I can do.  And then I want to hear more about your work, Drew.  I’ve been having meetings with the nurse’s union in San Francisco; they’re a really powerful voting bloc, especially at the local and state level.  What about here in Boston?” 

And Drew found himself completely drawn in to the conversation, watching Adam’s deft fingers mix a new round of drinks while at the same time asking thoughtful, intelligent and sometimes personal questions that Drew couldn’t help but want to answer.  He was helping Noa arrange appetizers on a couple of platters at the same time and at one point he leaned forward, holding something in Jeremiah’s direction.

“You’ve got to taste this, sweetheart; it’s a baked brie bite with honeyed almonds.”  He reached out and popped the morsel right into Jeremiah’s mouth. “Delicious, right?” he asked, watching avidly as the man chewed and swallowed.  “No-no and I made them this afternoon.”  

“Do you have nicknames for everyone?”  The question was out of Drew’s mouth before he stopped to think; he blamed the second espresso martini, which Adam said was a double, and definitely tasted considerably stronger than the first.  Then he shrugged; he had no reason to be embarrassed.  “Jeremiah doesn’t feel like a ‘Miah’ to me.”  

“That’s because I’m not.”  Jeremiah had finished the brie bite and now held out a second one for Drew, feeding him from his fingers like Adam had.  When he took it, Jeremiah kept his hand lightly on his jaw for a few extra seconds. “As I told Adam the first time he called me that - and every time afterwards.”  His mouth quirked.  “If you hadn’t noticed, he doesn’t care much what other people think.”

If Drew thought Adam was going to get upset at the comment, he was mistaken.  He just shrugged instead.

“You’ll realize you’re a Miah one of these days, just you wait,” he said assuredly.  He considered Drew for a long moment.  “Are you really Andrew?  Anyone call you Andy? I like Andy.” 

“Absolutely not.”  This time it was Jeremiah who spoke. He shook his finger in Adam’s face.  “I’ll put up with Miah because I know it’s a lost cause, but I’m not having my boyfriend suffer your need to always be right.  I mean it, Calder.”  

Adam put up his hands in mock surrender.  “I got it, I got it,” he said grumpily.  “You’re a lot less fun now that you’re in a relationship, Gable.”

Drew felt suddenly protective of his boyfriend.  And the martini was making him bold. “For you, maybe,” he said, pouring suggestion into his tone.  “But I’m definitely not complaining.”  Behind him, Jeremiah gave a throaty chuckle, and the arm around his waist squeezed closer.  Rory had just walked into the kitchen and reached out to give Drew a casual fist bump on his way to grab a beer.  

Adam stared for a long beat, and then threw his head back to laugh.

“Again, you’re welcome, and . . . Drew.” He drew out the name as if to remind them all he still held the power of the nickname.  He shuffled restlessly.  I’m hungry.  Landis, where’s the food?”

Rory rolled his eyes.  ‘Gabe and Logan are on their way up with a boat load of sushi; I don’t think you’ll starve.”

“And I put the rest of the appetizers on the coffee table.”  Noa appeared at her brother’s arm and tugged him in the direction of the sofa.  “Stop antagonizing Drew; we like him.”

“Hey, I like him too,” Adam protested.  “Not as much as Miah likes him, though.  It’s like watching my Padawan becoming a real Jedi knight.”  His expression leered for a moment.  “Am I right, Drew?  How’s Miah’s technique with his ‘light saber’?  I taught him everything he knows, you know.”

“Not everything.”  Again, Drew spoke without thinking first, and through the haze of alcohol it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t the only one who’d spoken.  He turned and grinned at his boyfriend.  “Jinx, buy me a Coke.”

Jeremiah grinned back and then put his lips against his ear. “You know you were my first.  And my only,” he said in a low voice that made Drew shiver. Even though he’d known that, it was still good to hear. For a moment he forgot about Adam and Noa and Rory and leaned in to his boyfriend, and only a noise at the door made them break apart.  Gabe and Logan had arrived with the sushi, and Drew was off the hook because now Adam had to be introduced to Logan.  Drew waited for the man to give her the same third degree he’d given him, but apparently Adam wasn’t as interested in talking to anyone who hadn’t gotten a blowjob from Jeremiah. After only a couple of polite minutes he brought yet another tray of martinis from the kitchen and plopped himself down next to Drew on the sofa.  

“So how old were you when you came out?  Younger than Mr. “almost 21’ here, I assume. He’d kissed like, what, two guys before I got my hands on him?  And was writhing with confusion, poor guy.”  He nudged Drew in the side.  “I'm sensing it wasn’t like that for you, right?”

It was the kind of question most people wouldn’t ask someone they’d just met, but Drew already realized that Adam Calder was very much not “most people.”  He picked up his third martini and found himself answering.

“Sixteen, but I knew a lot earlier.”  The other man hummed with acknowledgment.

“I was fourteen,” he said casually, and Jeremiah reached around Drew from his other side and smacked him on the leg.  

“It’s not a competition; you have the most understanding parents on the planet.”  This got Adam’s attention.  He turned back to Drew.

“Hey, was it tough for you then?  Do you not talk to your parents anymore?  I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”  His voice said he would absolutely for Drew to talk about those memories, to tell him his entire coming out story and probably the intimate details of his and Jeremiah’s sex life while he was at it so they could compare notes.  But even half drunk - on both alcohol and Adam’s charm - there were certain things Drew didn’t share.  

“It’s fine,” he said shortly.  He stood up.  “I’m getting some water.”  Without waiting for an answer he walked back into the kitchen.

Jeremiah followed him.  “You okay?” he asked, watching as Drew banged around filling a cup with water and then downing half of it.  “I know Adam can be a lot.”

Drew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “How long did you date him?” he asked bluntly.  Apparently espresso martinis took away his tact.  But his boyfriend was shaking his head.

“We never dated, just fooled around a lot the couple of times he came to visit Noa.  She was back together with Rory, and Rory and I were close friends, and I was . . . struggling to come to grips with my sexuality.”  He gave a small shrug.  “Adam made that a lot easier.” 

Drew had known all this, but seeing it in front of him was different than just hearing about it. And truly, he hadn’t really realized just how fucking attractive Adam Calder was.  He leaned against the counter.  “So you weren’t in love with him?” There was a waver in his voice he couldn’t quite keep away. 

“Absolutely not.” Jeremiah spoke with so much confidence Drew couldn’t help but believe him. 

“The only person Adam will ever fall in love with is himself; his ego is too big to let someone else into his life.”  Jeremiah wrapped his arm more possessively around Drew and trailed his other hand across his cheek.  “He knows it, though, which is part of his charm.  And yeah, it was a lot of fun to be with him, but I never felt anything.  It was just physical.”  His voice grew tender.  “Until I met you.” 

Drew turned in his boyfriend’s arms and lay his head on his chest.  “You really are pretty spectacular in bed, so I guess I should thank him.  He kissed the man’s collarbone.  “But I’ll admit I’m glad that you never had actual sex with him.”  

“You did thank him,” said Jeremiah with a chuckle.  “And I think we should go home so I can show you just how glad I am that you’re the only guy I’ve ever slept with.”

Drew snuggled into his boyfriend’s embrace.  “Sounds perfect.”  His stomach gave an unhappy gurgle.  “Although how about a stop in the bathroom before we get into bed?”  He gave Jeremiah a wry look.  “I’ve got three espresso martinis in my belly I’d like to vomit up first.” He felt a thrum of satisfaction when his boyfriend shivered.  Jeremiah cleared his throat.

“I’d . . . I’d like that.  A lot.”  He touched Drew’s cheek, expression concerned.  “But can you wait until home, love?  I don’t mind spending some time with you in Rory and Noa’s ensuite.”  

Drew shook his head resolutely.  “Home, please.”  His stomach gurgled again. “It’s not pressing yet, just kind of uncomfortable.”  He took a deep breath.  “I could even wait longer, if you wanted to stay for a little while more.”  

Jeremiah chuckled.  “And deny me the chance to rub your stomach in private?”  He shook his head.  “Let’s say a quick goodbye and go.”

Drew was grateful that Jeremiah didn’t mention his upset stomach as the reason they were leaving.  It was churning uncomfortably so he let his boyfriend make their excuse, which he managed to make sound like they were going home to fool around. Adam raised his eyebrows but didn’t give them the hard time Drew expected, and he wondered if the man just wasn’t interested now that they were leaving. But then his stomach gurgled again and he stopped caring and just focused on walking to the subway station two blocks from Rory and Noa’s condo.

It was late, and the T was fairly empty.  They were able to settle into two seats in the corner of the car, Jeremiah sitting almost sideways and pulling Drew against his chest.  Drew grabbed his boyfriend’s hands and wrapped them around his waist like a seatbelt.  

“Rub,” he commanded, body jolting with a hiccup.  “I need to burp.” 

The hands around his waist twitched and then squeezed for a second. Drew gulped past the sudden increase of pressure.  “Please,” he groaned quietly.

“There are people around.” Jeremiah leaned forward so he could speak quietly.  “Try not to make too much noise.”  

There were actually only a couple of other people in the subway car, and no one really near the end where they were sitting, but Drew nodded anyway.  “‘Kay,” he said thickly, finding Jeremiah’s hands and pushing them into the flesh around his belly button. “Help me bring up some air.” 

Jeremiah began tracing gentle circles around Drew’s middle, stopping in various places to press a little more firmly, although not enough to make him belch.  He was examining him first, Drew knew, so that the belly rub would be the most effective. That little bit of extra caretaking made him feel all warm inside.  He wished he could snuggle even more firmly into his boyfriend but the train seats really didn’t allow it.

“You’re really bloated,” Jeremiah commented calmly, resting both palms on the sides of Drew’s stomach.  “It’s crazy that coffee does that to you.”  He didn’t say it had been stupid for him to drink so much of the stuff; they both knew why he’d done it.  “Tell me if this gets uncomfortable.”  One hand moved back to the center of Drew’s stomach and rubbed in a slow circle, slowly increasing in pressure.  Drew burped, softly under his breath, and sagged a bit with the relief.  

“More of those . . . urp . . . please,” he mumbled, bringing up a second belch on his own.  “Feels good.”  

Jeremiah carefully slipped his hand up under the bottom of Drew’s shirt.  “This okay?” He chased down another pocket of air lower on his stomach and pushed out a deeper belch.  Drew groaned in appreciation.  

“Oh god, yes; I needed that. I forgot how burpy I get when I drink coffee.”  WIthout really thinking about it he took Jeremiah’s hand that wasn’t focused on the belly rub and brought it to his lips.  Behind him, the man twitched.  

“Are you going to burp on my hand?” His voice was amused.  Drew shook his head.  

“Nope.”  He deliberately moved the hand away, pushed out another soft burp, and then sighed.  “Pressure’s a little better now.”  He drew one of his boyfriend’s digits into his mouth.  “But keep rubbing anyway; I like it.”  He sucked gently for a few seconds, enjoying the sound of Jeremiah’s breathing speeding up. His stomach still hurt, but it was manageable at the moment and he wanted to take advantage of the reprieve. He added a second finger and Jeremiah groaned.  

“I can’t . . . focus on your belly . . . when you do that,” he gasped.  Even so, he moved his other hand over Drew’s skin, tracing again now instead of pressing.  The train began slowing down as it approached the next station and Drew slowly took the man’s fingers out of his mouth.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled, now just kissing them again.  His own body vibrated when Jeremiah chuckled.  

“You’re still thinking about Adam, aren’t you?  For the record, he and I never fooled around on the subway.”

“Good.”  Drew moved his lips to his boyfriend’s palm.  “Not that I’d blame you if you had; the guy is gorgeous.”  He rested Jeremiah’s hand back on his middle.  

“He is, and he obviously knows it,” Jeremiah agreed, beginning to rub again.  Drew’s stomach gave a thick gurgle and he stopped.

“How’s your belly?  Need to burp some more?”

Drew shuffled uneasily in his seat, as a wave of clammy nausea washed over his skin.  “Better . . . better stop,” he said, abruptly sitting up and putting his feet back on the floor of the train.  Jeremiah made a sympathetic sound and put his hand on his back. 

“Nauseated?” he guessed.  Drew gave a small nod. 

“I’ll be okay, once I . . . get it out of my system.”  He hiccupped and swallowed down coffee-tasting saliva.  “I still want to fool around later.  After.”  While sometimes an upset stomach like this would mean an opportunity for the two of them to indulge in their kink, tonight Drew only wanted to be cared for while he got sick.  And then to bring his partner to bed and thank him by taking him carefully apart with his hands, and mouth, and body.  “Gonna make you forget your own name,” he added meaningfully.  “‘Specially if it’s Miah.” 

“Thank you for not calling me that.”  Jeremiah began rubbing up and down Drew’s back.  “I think the reason I don’t like it is because it reminds me of that time when I didn’t really know who I was and was trying to figure it out.” His hand stopped moving when Drew’s body jolted with another hiccup.  

“I’m . . . I’m okay,” he promised, gulping.  “I can wait.”

Jeremiah produced a kleenex and held it to Drew’s mouth.  “Spit,” he ordered.  “I know you need to.” 

Drew gave a weak nod and let the saliva he’d been holding down drip into the tissue.  Jeremiah made a satisfied sound. “Don’t hold it in, love; I’ve got you.”  When Drew’s breathing eased again his hand resumed its path up and down his back and he kept talking as if they hadn’t been interrupted by his sick stomach.  

“Adam’s confidence and persuasiveness was what I needed, back then; I’m not sure I would have come out until much later if he hadn’t made it look so easy and natural."  He lightly squeezed the back of Drew’s neck and then replaced his fingers with his lips.  “I gratefully gave him control, and as I’m sure you can guess, he was more than happy to take it.”

The train began to slow again, finally at their stop, and Drew mentally prepared himself to stand and walk with his sloshing stomach.  “I can see . . . how comforting that would be,” he croaked.  “Learning how to be gay from someone like that.”  He let Jeremiah help him to his feet and shuffle him slowly off the train.  There was more saliva building up in his mouth and this time he spit it out in a nearby trash can before leaning back into his boyfriend’s side to keep walking.

“It was,” Jeremiah agreed. “And yeah, damn, the physical stuff was amazing.  You know I’d slept with a couple of girls, but I had no idea sex could be like that.”  He brushed Drew’s hair back from his face, resting his cool hand on his forehead for a moment.  “It was a relief, actually.  Because when I met you, I wasn’t too scared to try.” He kissed Drew on the temple.  “I knew almost immediately that you were different from Adam, even if I didn’t let myself admit it as quickly as you did.”

Drew blew out a breath.  “I fell first; you fell harder.”  He twisted his head to find his boyfriend’s eyes.  “Although I fell pretty damn hard too.”  His stomach gurgled again.  “Ugh,” he groaned.  “Why did you let me drink so much espresso?” 

Jeremiah gave a soft snort.  “Because I know what it feels like to be completely flustered by Adam Calder, and I was rather enjoying watching him charm you too.”  He slotted the key in their front door.  “But don’t worry, while I wouldn’t have blamed you for wanting to take him up on his offer, I would have stopped things before you actually did.”  

Drew stumbled the few steps to the kitchen sink.  “Wouldn’t have,” he mumbled before spitting up thick saliva into the bowl and then hovering there a second, fighting the nausea.  Finally the prickly feeling passed and he straightened up.  “Cause I have you, and you know everything he  does.”  He shrugged.  “So I don’t need him to prove anything.”  He burped into his fist.  “But I do need to . . . to throw up soon.  Come with me?”  

“Like you could keep me away,” Jeremiah scoffed.  Drew thought he sounded rather pleased.  “I’m sure I don’t know as much as Adam does in bed, but I sure as hell am an expert at taking care of you when you’re sick.”  As if to prove it, he skillfully steered Drew into their bathroom and pushed the bathmat in front of the toilet before helping him kneel down.  “You had three martinis, right?  So let’s try for three heaves.  Lean over and I’ll rub your back.”

Drew spit up a mouthful of coffee and vodka.  “One was a double,” he said miserably. He pushed a fist to his chest and began panting as the nausea swirled more strongly in his belly.  A few small burps crept up his throat along with more ropes of saliva.  “Jus’ want this over with,” he moaned thickly.  So we can have sex.”  He looked back over his shoulder at his boyfriend.  “Cause I still want to once my belly’s settled..”

Despite feeling like he was seconds away from throwing up all over the place, he couldn’t help enjoy the look that flashed over Jeremiah’s face.  Apparently Adam Calder wasn’t the only one who could fluster him.  After a few seconds of staring, he shivered and gave Drew a determined nod.

“Well then, let’s get it emptied out, shall we?”  He scooted forward until he was right behind Drew, flattening his palm against the center of his stomach.  “Tell me when you’re feeling sick again, and then try to force a burp.”

In response, Drew gagged.  “Now,” he gasped, forcing down a big swallow of air.  Jeremiah rubbed roughly at his stomach and then pressed in until he retched, keeping his hand in place while the next heave turned into a deep, thick, burp that ended with him vomiting up at least one of the espresso martinis.  He’d barely caught his breath when the nausea surged again and he threw up more, choking on the horrible taste.  “Never . . . never drinking coffee . . . again,” he gagged.  Behind him Jeremiah chuckled.  

“To be fair, you had a decent amount of vodka too; and Baileys liqueur.  Maybe it’s the alcohol.”  

Drew shook his head and spit, waiting for his stomach to turn over again.  “Nope, I’m blaming the coffee,” he insisted.  “It’s always hated me.”  He leaned forward. “And now more’s coming up, the little bitch.”  He burped, long and low, before vomiting again.  Then he gagged emptily over the bowl until Jeremiah had to thump him on the back to get him breathing again.

“Easy, babe, I think you’re empty.”  

Drew proved him wrong by choking up another mouthful before finally leaning back on his heels. He accepted the washcloth and cup of water Jeremiah handed him, burped once more, and then breathed out a relieved sigh.  “Much better.”  He slumped against his boyfriend, who stroked his cheek.  

“That was a lot of vomiting; if you just want to get in bed and cuddle that’s more than fine.”  

Drew knew that; and he knew he didn’t have anything at all to prove.  After considering his body for a long few seconds, he shook his head.  “Nope, still horny.”  He slowly hauled himself to his feet to rinse his mouth and brush his teeth.  “Can we start in the shower though?  I’m all sweaty.”  There was movement behind him and he turned around to watch Jeremiah pulling his shirt over his head and undoing his belt.  He smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?” 

“You can take that as a ‘hell yes,’” Jeremiah finished stripping and then reached for Drew’s waist.  “It’s been at least a week since I’ve shown you everything I know about going down on you.”  

“That sounds like a good place to start,” Drew agreed.  “And then I want to finish you in bed.”  He gave him a wicked smile and leaned in.  “Jeremiah sweetheart.”

A/N Part 2: So my original plan was to have Adam be an antagonist between Jeremiah and Drew, and have Drew get jealous, even though Jeremiah wasn't ever tempted to do anything with Adam again. But these two have already been through enough, and I really like this dynamic better. There will be more about Jeremiah's coming out process in later stories, and I'm trying to get up the guts to write the story about how he and Drew discovered their mutual kink (which wasn't entirely mutual at the start . . .). But for now I want to see what people think about Adam before deciding how often he shows up. I don't know, maybe people will think he's too much, lol.

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Why is it such a struggle to find motivation to write anything? I don't even know how long I haven't posted anything proper. Haven't even finished writing the appendix fic yet, and i am going through it. Anyways, this is just me complaining about life rn I'll post the fic whenever I can! I apologise! 👀👋

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Help me pick

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 A Bumpy Ride

---

The car hummed along the highway, the rhythmic thrum of the tires, the only sound breaking the quiet. Beautiful autumn trees blurred past the windows as Nico and Phoenix made their way to Nico's family's house for a weekend visit. It was a trip they had both been looking forward to, but Phoenix had been dreading the drive more than anything.

Phoenix had always been prone to motion sickness. He had taken his medication, hoping it would ward off the worst of it, but as the miles ticked by, he felt the familiar queasiness settle in. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the roiling in his stomach, but it was no use. His mouth began to fill with saliva, a sure sign that his body was not handling the motion well.

Nico glanced over, concern etched on his face. “How are you holding up, babe?”

Phoenix shook his head, swallowing thickly. “The meds aren't working.”

Nico’s brows furrowed with worry. He reached over, squeezing Phoenix's hand. “I'm sorry, baby. We’re almost there. Just a bit longer.”

Phoenix nodded, trying to focus on the passing scenery to distract himself. But the nausea was relentless, building with every twist and turn of the road. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, hoping to keep the sickness at bay. He leaned back and was breathing slowly through his mouth, hoping to quell the nausea. 

The car hit a particularly rough patch of road, and Phoenix's stomach lurched. He groaned, his hand touching his stomach, his body jolted slightly with a hiccup. “Ugh, god..” 

Nico turned to Phoenix, worry evident in his eyes. “Hang in there, love. There’s a bag in my rucksack at your feet. Use it if you need to.”

He rummaged through the rucksack and pulled out the plastic bag, opened it and dropped it in his lap, and rested his head against the window, sighing. Nico rubbed his shoulder soothingly. He wanted to do something, anything to help. 

“It's okay, Fee. Just breathe,” Nico murmured, his voice calm and steady.

“I hate this,” Phoenix mumbled could feel the toast he had for breakfast sloshing around in his belly, the feeling making him want to gag. He groaned and put his head in his hands as everything started to spin, and the nausea was becoming unbearable. He opened the bag and burped over it. The car came to a stop, and he forced his eyes open, Nico had stopped at the side of the road. 

“Are you gonna be sick?” Nico stopped the car and touched Phoenix’s back, rubbing in soothing circles. His voice was filled with empathy and concern. His question was answered when Phoenix shook his head and gagged again, this time burping up some of his breakfast, which made an awful rustling sound as it landed in the bag. He coughed and threw up again, and Nico grabbed the side of the bag as it started slipping out his boyfriend’s hands. 

Phoenix straightened up, sniffling, and he almost melted as he felt Nico tracing his nails against his back. His cheeks puffed with another burp, and he moaned, “Lemme take that” Nico softly touched the bag, and Phoenix loosened his grip slowly. Nico took it and put it in a bin that was nearby. 

When Nico came back, he found Phoenix adjusting the seat so he could lean back comfortably. Nico took a bottle of water from the back seat and handed it to his boyfriend. Phoenix took a sip and rinsed his mouth, then drank some. When it stayed down, he smiled gently, and with a gentle touch, Nico reached out, his fingers threading softly through Phoenix’s hair.

“Thanks, babe,” Phoenix said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Nico sighed, “You don't have to thank me, love I’ll always take care of you.” He leaned over and kissed his forehead. 

...

The rest of the drive was slow and steady. Nico took extra care to avoid any rough patches or sharp turns, and he kept the conversation light and soothing. Phoenix leaned back, eyes closed, focusing on Nico’s voice and the feel of his hand holding his.

Finally, they arrived at Nico’s mom’s house. The warm glow of the porch light welcomed them, and the sight of it filled Phoenix with a sense of relief. They had made it.

Nico’s little sister, Lillie, ran out to greet them, her face lighting up with excitement. The six-year-old had her hair in the cutest little pigtails, her brown eyes glistening in the light from the sun. “Nico! Phoenix! You’re here!” she squealed, her voice high and full of joy.

Nico scooped her up, spinning her around. “Hey, Lils! Did you miss us?”

Lillie giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Come inside! Mommy made cookies!”

Nico set her down gently, then turned to help Phoenix out of the car. “Hey, Lillie. Can you help us get our things inside? Phoenix isn’t feeling too well.”

Lillie nodded, her concern matching Nico’s. She grabbed Phoenix's hand with her tiny one, her grip surprisingly strong. “Come on, Phoenix. Mommy can make you feel better.”

With Nico and Lillie’s help, Phoenix made it inside and settled on the couch. Nico’s mom and stepdad greeted them warmly, their concern evident when they saw Phoenix’s pale face.

“Are you okay, Phoenix?” Nico's mom asked gently, placing a hand on his forehead. Her touch was warm and comforting, reminding Phoenix of his own mother.

“I'll be okay,” Phoenix replied, managing a small smile. “Just a rough ride.”

Nico’s stepdad, Mark, a tall man with a kind face, came over with a glass of ginger ale. “Here, Phoenix. This might help settle your stomach.”

Phoenix took the glass gratefully, sipping the fizzy drink. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“Call me Mark,” Nico's step dad said with a friendly smile. “And I keep telling you, you're family now, no need for formalities.”

Nico sat beside Phoenix, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. “We'll take it easy tonight. Just rest, baby.”

Phoenix nodded, leaning into Nico’s side. Despite the rough start, he felt a sense of peace knowing he was surrounded by people who cared for him. The warmth of the home, the soft lighting, and Nico’s steady presence made the discomfort fade into the background.

Lillie climbed onto the couch next to Phoenix, her big eyes filled with concern. “Are you sick, Phoenix?” she asked in her sweet, innocent voice.

Phoenix smiled at her, ruffling her hair. “Just a little, cariño. But I’ll be okay.”

She patted his hand with her tiny one. “Mommy makes the best cookies. They’ll make you feel better.”

Phoenix chuckled, his heart warming at her earnestness. “I'm sure they will, Lillie. Thank you.”

As the evening went on, Phoenix started to feel a bit better. He joined in the laughter and conversation, grateful for the love and support of Nico and his family. Lillie insisted on sitting in his lap while they played board games, her excitement contagious.

“Look, Phoenix! I made this drawing for you!” she said, holding up a crayon-covered picture of a family.

“It’s beautiful, Lillie,” Phoenix said, helping her hang it on the fridge.

Mark brought out a tray of cookies and hot cocoa, and they all gathered around the kitchen table, the room filled with warmth and family chatter. Nico’s mom told stories about past visits, and they all laughed at the funny memories.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Nico held Phoenix close, whispering soothing words in his ear. “I love you, Phoenix. Thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn't easy.”

“I love you,”  Phoenix replied, his voice soft and content. “And it was worth it. Being here with you and your family... It means a lot.”

Nico pressed a gentle kiss to Phoenix’s forehead. “Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

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 A Bumpy Ride

---

The car hummed along the highway, the rhythmic thrum of the tires, the only sound breaking the quiet. Beautiful autumn trees blurred past the windows as Nico and Phoenix made their way to Nico's family's house for a weekend visit. It was a trip they had both been looking forward to, but Phoenix had been dreading the drive more than anything.

Phoenix had always been prone to motion sickness. He had taken his medication, hoping it would ward off the worst of it, but as the miles ticked by, he felt the familiar queasiness settle in. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the roiling in his stomach, but it was no use. His mouth began to fill with saliva, a sure sign that his body was not handling the motion well.

Nico glanced over, concern etched on his face. “How are you holding up, babe?”

Phoenix shook his head, swallowing thickly. “The meds aren't working.”

Nico’s brows furrowed with worry. He reached over, squeezing Phoenix's hand. “I'm sorry, baby. We’re almost there. Just a bit longer.”

Phoenix nodded, trying to focus on the passing scenery to distract himself. But the nausea was relentless, building with every twist and turn of the road. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, hoping to keep the sickness at bay. He leaned back and was breathing slowly through his mouth, hoping to quell the nausea. 

The car hit a particularly rough patch of road, and Phoenix's stomach lurched. He groaned, his hand touching his stomach, his body jolted slightly with a hiccup. “Ugh, god..” 

Nico turned to Phoenix, worry evident in his eyes. “Hang in there, love. There’s a bag in my rucksack at your feet. Use it if you need to.”

He rummaged through the rucksack and pulled out the plastic bag, opened it and dropped it in his lap, and rested his head against the window, sighing. Nico rubbed his shoulder soothingly. He wanted to do something, anything to help. 

“It's okay, Fee. Just breathe,” Nico murmured, his voice calm and steady.

“I hate this,” Phoenix mumbled could feel the toast he had for breakfast sloshing around in his belly, the feeling making him want to gag. He groaned and put his head in his hands as everything started to spin, and the nausea was becoming unbearable. He opened the bag and burped over it. The car came to a stop, and he forced his eyes open, Nico had stopped at the side of the road. 

“Are you gonna be sick?” Nico stopped the car and touched Phoenix’s back, rubbing in soothing circles. His voice was filled with empathy and concern. His question was answered when Phoenix shook his head and gagged again, this time burping up some of his breakfast, which made an awful rustling sound as it landed in the bag. He coughed and threw up again, and Nico grabbed the side of the bag as it started slipping out his boyfriend’s hands. 

Phoenix straightened up, sniffling, and he almost melted as he felt Nico tracing his nails against his back. His cheeks puffed with another burp, and he moaned, “Lemme take that” Nico softly touched the bag, and Phoenix loosened his grip slowly. Nico took it and put it in a bin that was nearby. 

When Nico came back, he found Phoenix adjusting the seat so he could lean back comfortably. Nico took a bottle of water from the back seat and handed it to his boyfriend. Phoenix took a sip and rinsed his mouth, then drank some. When it stayed down, he smiled gently, and with a gentle touch, Nico reached out, his fingers threading softly through Phoenix’s hair.

“Thanks, babe,” Phoenix said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Nico sighed, “You don't have to thank me, love I’ll always take care of you.” He leaned over and kissed his forehead. 

...

The rest of the drive was slow and steady. Nico took extra care to avoid any rough patches or sharp turns, and he kept the conversation light and soothing. Phoenix leaned back, eyes closed, focusing on Nico’s voice and the feel of his hand holding his.

Finally, they arrived at Nico’s mom’s house. The warm glow of the porch light welcomed them, and the sight of it filled Phoenix with a sense of relief. They had made it.

Nico’s little sister, Lillie, ran out to greet them, her face lighting up with excitement. The six-year-old had her hair in the cutest little pigtails, her brown eyes glistening in the light from the sun. “Nico! Phoenix! You’re here!” she squealed, her voice high and full of joy.

Nico scooped her up, spinning her around. “Hey, Lils! Did you miss us?”

Lillie giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Come inside! Mommy made cookies!”

Nico set her down gently, then turned to help Phoenix out of the car. “Hey, Lillie. Can you help us get our things inside? Phoenix isn’t feeling too well.”

Lillie nodded, her concern matching Nico’s. She grabbed Phoenix's hand with her tiny one, her grip surprisingly strong. “Come on, Phoenix. Mommy can make you feel better.”

With Nico and Lillie’s help, Phoenix made it inside and settled on the couch. Nico’s mom and stepdad greeted them warmly, their concern evident when they saw Phoenix’s pale face.

“Are you okay, Phoenix?” Nico's mom asked gently, placing a hand on his forehead. Her touch was warm and comforting, reminding Phoenix of his own mother.

“I'll be okay,” Phoenix replied, managing a small smile. “Just a rough ride.”

Nico’s stepdad, Mark, a tall man with a kind face, came over with a glass of ginger ale. “Here, Phoenix. This might help settle your stomach.”

Phoenix took the glass gratefully, sipping the fizzy drink. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“Call me Mark,” Nico's step dad said with a friendly smile. “And I keep telling you, you're family now, no need for formalities.”

Nico sat beside Phoenix, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. “We'll take it easy tonight. Just rest, baby.”

Phoenix nodded, leaning into Nico’s side. Despite the rough start, he felt a sense of peace knowing he was surrounded by people who cared for him. The warmth of the home, the soft lighting, and Nico’s steady presence made the discomfort fade into the background.

Lillie climbed onto the couch next to Phoenix, her big eyes filled with concern. “Are you sick, Phoenix?” she asked in her sweet, innocent voice.

Phoenix smiled at her, ruffling her hair. “Just a little, cariño. But I’ll be okay.”

She patted his hand with her tiny one. “Mommy makes the best cookies. They’ll make you feel better.”

Phoenix chuckled, his heart warming at her earnestness. “I'm sure they will, Lillie. Thank you.”

As the evening went on, Phoenix started to feel a bit better. He joined in the laughter and conversation, grateful for the love and support of Nico and his family. Lillie insisted on sitting in his lap while they played board games, her excitement contagious.

“Look, Phoenix! I made this drawing for you!” she said, holding up a crayon-covered picture of a family.

“It’s beautiful, Lillie,” Phoenix said, helping her hang it on the fridge.

Mark brought out a tray of cookies and hot cocoa, and they all gathered around the kitchen table, the room filled with warmth and family chatter. Nico’s mom told stories about past visits, and they all laughed at the funny memories.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Nico held Phoenix close, whispering soothing words in his ear. “I love you, Phoenix. Thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn't easy.”

“I love you,”  Phoenix replied, his voice soft and content. “And it was worth it. Being here with you and your family... It means a lot.”

Nico pressed a gentle kiss to Phoenix’s forehead. “Sleep well, baby. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

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What is next! (I think)

Appendix fic for either Ezme or Rose, which I will get to eventually - kinda stuck on this one, tbh but I'll get to it!

I am currently writing a fic for Nico and his PUD flare-up (I am really excited to write this), but I also want to write a fluffy fic for Luna and Daniel's introduction - was thinking about something without emeto and more of just feeling nauseous yk? (Honestly, I might start writing this in the middle of everything, lol) 👀🙈

Finally, I had an idea to write a fic with a lot of emotional angst on either Luna or Rose since they have a lot of family trauma in their stories. 😬

HELP