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gblogg · 2 months ago

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I have to catch up rn bc this was everything!

Alright, if you follow the plot of my OCs, this one is not an optional story! 🙈

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"Yeah?" Leo picked up his phone already frowning, since his screen displayed Wicked Witch of the West as the caller, "Wendy?"

"Hiii..." Wendy's voice was sugary and his frown deepened, causing Leo to stop chopping vegetables, "are you busy...?"

"Is something wrong? With you? Vin?"

"No, no, nothing is wrong! We're all fine!" Wendy was quick to say, her voice going a note up and Leo squinted, annoyed.

"Then I'm busy."

"Ah," she sounded so defeated, "okay..."

He was not going to feel guilty. He was not going to feel guilty. He was not going-

"What do you want, Wendy?"

She let out a little squeal and Leo rolled his eyes so much they nearly got stuck, "soooo, uhm- are you free tomorrow night?"

"Jonah's in Paris, yeah, I'm free," Leo said bitterly. He was being the world's most supportive fiancé to Jonah's face, but to Wendy he could let out his full bitchiness show.

"Great," Wendy was clearly smiling, "I need you to be my partner in something."

"No."

"You don't even know what it is!"

Leo let out a groan, "what is it?"

"Ballroom dancing," she said it quickly and before he could tell her that absolutely not, Wendy continued to speak, "look! It's just one experimental class, I just wanna know if I'll like it! Please! Bella said she won't go and Vin is away."

"Ask Lucas," Leo scoffed, "he'll love it."

"He already knows how to ballroom dance and Bella's super jealous of him, no thanks," Wendy whined, "please? Hell, I'll pay you-"

"I don't want your money," Leo wrinkled his nose, "can't you just wait until Vin is in town? He's coming over Friday night."

"No, the classes are only Tuesday and Thursday nights..." Wendy was doing her best imitation of a kicked puppy, he knew without even looking at her, "please, Leo."

"It'll only be one class?" he asked, cringing as he heard her celebrating.

"Only one class, I promise!"

"Alright," he started to wipe his messy hands to grab his phone and hung up as Wendy continued to speak: wear track pants! And comfy shoes!

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Leo was standing outside of Wendy's building, questioning his life choices, when his frenemy walked out. Unlike him, who had come straight from work and was wearing exactly what she told him to, Wendy was clad in a red flowy dress, with layers and layers, reaching just past her knees.

She lit up as she saw him, "I'm glad you came!"

Leo raised an eyebrow, "am I gonna regret this?"

"Do you know how to dance?" Wendy circled his car to get in the passenger side and Leo scowled.

"No..."

"Then what a better time to learn than now? You know Jonah knows how to waltz, right?" Wendy entered the car and Leo squinted at her, getting in the driver's seat as she typed the address in her phone's GPS.

"So what if Jonah knows? He knows a bunch of shit I don't, it's not a competition," Leo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and Wendy let out a heavy sigh, as if he was stupid.

"So you're marrying the guy. Couples typically have a first waltz when they marry and Jon said you wanna do the whole traditional thing, so I'm guessing that as well?" Wendy smiled at him smugly, "you want to keep up with him, right?"

Leo knew he was being manipulated, that didn't stop it from working. He clenched his jaw and turned up his music, causing Wendy to let out an amused huff and look out of her window.

The dance school was across town, a brown building with a brightly lit sign hanging over the door, of a couple dancing. The metal gates were open, so was the front door and a very old receptionist was sitting in the cramped entry hall.

"You must be the Marshall's?" the woman opened a sweety smile when she saw them, "here for the experimental class?"

"God, no-"

"Yes," Wendy squeezed his arm, glaring at him, "Wendy Marshall and Leo Wagner."

"Oh, forgive me, I just assumed," the woman shook her head in an apologetic manner, "they're already warming up, so you better hurry. Down the hall, up the stairs."

"Thank you", Wendy was all smiles as she dragged Leo forward and he started to feel himself lagging behind. He hated doing new things, meeting new people. How did Wendy convince him to join this public humiliation, he wasn't sure.

The second floor had a huge ball room, with mirrors up against a wall, very similar to a ballet studio, except for the couples scattered around and the lack of the support bars along the walls.

"Wendy!" A woman in her late forties said from across the room. Leo turned to look at her, then froze.

She was a tall, skinny woman, with incredibly light blonde hair and striking blue eyes. A severe face, but the illusion was shattered by the smile stretching her thin lips.

"I'm so glad you came!" The woman, probably the teacher, said, crossing the room to meet up with them. She frowned as she felt Leo's gaze on her, blonde brows meeting, "is this the boyfriend you mentioned?"

"No, that's just my friend, Leo," Wendy cleared up, turning to look at him and shake the woman's hand. Leo gulped down around nothing, feeling the air stop in his lungs.

The United States was huge. It was a twenty seven hour drive from Oklahoma to Maine. And out of every fucking place that Amelia could be in, she was there. Standing in front of him, not recognizing him.

"Leo?" Wendy shook his shoulder and Amelia's frown deepened.

"Is he okay?"

"What- What are you doing here?" Leo glared at the woman in front of him. His voice didn't sound like his own. He didn't feel like himself, it was like he was watching the scene unfold out of his body.

The woman looked at Wendy, then at him, "I'm the owner of the studio... I'm sorry, have we met?"

Leo let out a hysterical chuckle.

There were many times he had wondered how it'd feel to see his mother again. Would he feel anger? Resentment? Sadness? Shock?

It had never crossed his mind that she wouldn't recognize him at all. Sure, he had long shed his baby traits, the man he was at nearly twenty six was a completely different person from the tiny ten year old with nearly white hair and too big ears he had been... But he was still her son, how could she not recognize him in the least, when he could easily pin point her through his blurry and faded memories.

"Leo?" Wendy was up in his face now, on her very tip toes and hands cupping his cheeks, sounding concerned, "sweetheart, what is it?"

The fact Wendy, of all people, was using a pet name caused another blubbering giggle to come up. His eyes stung, his hands were clammy and shaky as they closed around Wendy's wrist-

"You said your name is Leo?" Amelia repeated, moving closer and Leo took an instinctive step back, bringing Wendy with him.

It was a split second, but suddenly Wen's dark brows met and her bright green eyes widened, her heart shaped mouth falling into a comic O. She shook her head, glanced between Amelia, then Leo, then raised an eyebrow, "She's not-"

Leo felt like he couldn't breathe. He nodded and Wendy turned around quick as a wip, shoving him behind her as if she was not half his size, "we're leaving," her voice was a whole note louder, "don't even think of coming after us, you've done enough."

Amelia looked distraught and confused, blinking quickly, "no, I- I- Leo? Leo- Edward's Leo?"

It had been at least seven years since Leo had heard his father's name and the word caused his head to spin. He stumbled back and Wendy's grip on his shirt tightened, as if she could and would hold his whole weight in case he collapsed.

"C'mon, Leo, let's go," she turned around, clutching his bicep and shoving him to start moving. Leo took a couple stumbling steps back and Amelia followed, the rest of the class entirely forgotten, looking a bit drunk herself.

"You can't- What are you doing here? In Maine-"

"Stop," Wendy's tone was sharp as she glared at the woman, "Leo, let's go, we need to go-" with another push, he allowed himself to turn around and be all but dragged down the stairs. Ignoring the shouting of his name in the background, the iron grip Wendy was keeping in his bicep-

They stumbled out of the building and he fell like a drunk to his car, bracing against the metal door and trying to catch his breath. Wendy's hand was in the middle of his back, rubbing, and he could feel the nervous energy emanating from her, like a light bulb on the corner of his eye.

"She- Oh my fucking God-" he hyperventilated, not missing the fact this was a horrible place to stop, right in front of the dance studio.

"I know," Wendy couldn't possibly know anything, but her voice was like a lifeboat in the storm and Leo clung to it, nodding along her rambling, "we're leaving, you can't stay here-" her hand entered his pocket without warning, fishing out the car keys and then Leo was ushered inside the passenger seat, despite the fact Wendy had pulled at it earlier and made the whole place cramped.

She shut the door, then ran around the car and got in the driver's side, not even bothering to fiddle with the seat and sitting at the very edge in order to drive.

Leo leaned back against the leather, tugging on his shirt with such a force he ripped the first button, gasping for air. He looked up, at the car ceiling, mind spiraling.

Amelia was in town. Amelia lived in his town. This whole time- Had she been there before he even arrived? Had part of him, somehow, known she'd be in Weston and that was why he picked that scholarship out of all the others? How-

"I thought-" Leo choked up and he hadn't realized he had started to cry, but now he noticed there were tears running down his cheeks and his throat was so tight it nearly hurt, "I thought- Fuck-"

Wendy let out a little wounded noise, almost a mew, and reached without looking, her small hand finding her way to his knee in order to comfort him. Leo wrapped his hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers and trying to ground himself.

What he could hear? The honks of traffic. Wendy's soft cursing, in full yankee. His own hiccupping sobs. The car humming-

What he could smell? Wendy's sweet perfume. Sea salt, because they were near the port area of the city- Trees.

"Pullover-" Leo slurred, whole body jumping with a heave as his stomach threw the towel, "Wendy, PULL-"

The car came to a screeching halt on the side of the street, in some half empty residential area, and Leo threw the door open hastily, barely managing to hang his head out of it before his dinner made a nasty reappearance over the humid tarmac.

He coughed, the sobs turning into gags once more and spat up another mouthful of acidic sludge, his nose and throat burning, whole body shivering violently.

"Shhh-shhh, I got you," Wendy whispered softly and Leo squeezed the door handle, his other hand in the partition between the front and backseat, white knuckling it. He felt her one of her hands coming to cup his forehead, Wendy squeezing his shoulder in a sweet manner, "get it up, you're okay, sweetheart-"

Leo spat the bitter taste, sniffling grossly. His whole head was pounding, warm... "Fuck," he said eloquently, straightening up and falling back against his seat. Wendy let out a small snort, pushing his hair back and waiting patiently for him to be able to say a whole sentence.

"I didn't- I didn't think I'd ever see her again," he admitted, after a good handful of minutes passed. His head was still spinning and Leo wasn't sure if he felt... Angry or relieved or sad. Right now he just felt nauseous, defeated... Empty.

Wendy didn't say anything, continuing to pet his hair and Leo closed his eyes to avoid her concerned gaze. He pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing down the knot in his throat that he didn't know if it was nausea or more tears, "I hoped I'd never see her again," he whispered, then wiped his mouth and nose with his sleeve, "I can't believe she didn't even-"

"Fuck her," was Wendy's first coherent sentence since they had left the studio and it was startling enough to cause Leo to open his eyes and chuckle, "fuck her so much," Wen repeated, glaring at him to show how serious she was, "she doesn't deserve you, she never did."

His watery laughter very quickly morphed into tears and Leo folded in half, all but falling straight into Wendy's arms, hiding his face against her neck as she hugged him sideways in the side of the road. He could feel his sobs wrecking through her, as Wendy pressed her lips to the top of his head, squeezing him closer.

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gblogg · 2 months ago

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Barf Bingo, Part V

M is for Migraine, S is for Seasickness, F is for Food Poisoning, I is for Indigestion.

A/N: And it's done! I feel a little like Oprah: "you get to puke, and you get to puke, and you get to puke!"

Jeremiah wanted to cry. Or laugh. Or throw up. Possibly all three. Instead, he stood frozen while Gabe finished heaving up what looked like a mouthful of thick water and then gagged emptily over the floor.

Then his medical training kicked in. Pushing down the remnants of his own nausea, he grabbed Gabe from behind in a backwards hug and manhandled him over to the second sofa, wincing in sympathy as the man cried out in pain.

“Sorry,” Jeremiah grunted, out of breath. “But the faster you’re lying down, the better.” Still, he tried to be more gentle as he lowered Gabe flat onto the sofa, where he immediately curled up onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut.

“He hasn’t . . . eaten since breakfast.” Logan’s voice was laced with nausea but she seemed to have stopped retching. She moved gingerly around the sofa and collapsed into a chair. “He ordered up food but the smell made me sick. so he threw it out even though I told him that was stupid.” Her eyes didn’t leave the figure of her boyfriend writhing on the couch as she spoke.

“Fuck; I was supposed to bring you a scopolamine patch. I’m so sorry.” Jeremiah grimaced and gestured around the wreck of the living room. “Things got a bit . . . out of hand here.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” she said dryly. She frowned as Gabe’s body contorted with a retch. “I guess he fell asleep when I did, and then woke up with the migraine so it was too late to take meds.” She burped softly into her fist.

“Right. Let’s get you sorted first.” Jeremiah tried to get his fuzzy brain to focus for just a little bit longer. It wasn’t much worse than the end of a 36 hour shift during residency, right? He’d worked with the stomach flu before; a little indigestion should be a piece of cake, even if the idea of cake made him want to gag.

“There’s . . . ice. In the minibar. Wrap it in a . . . a towel and put it behind his neck.” Drew was still draped awkwardly over the back of the sofa and he was speaking so stiffly Jeremiah knew he was fighting nausea again.

“If you’re going to insist on armchair nursing at least sit the fuck back down.” Jeremiah glared at his boyfriend until he shakily lowered himself back onto the cushions, landing with a grunt. He immediately closed his eyes and began breathing slowly through his mouth and Jeremiah grabbed up the damn ice bucket that was still sitting on the floor and shoved it back into Drew’s lap.

“Please vomit in that and not on yourself; I don’t have the energy to haul your ass to the shower right now..” He was running through a list in his head, trying to figure out what to do first: Gabe’s ice, Logan’s seasickness patch, get another garbage can in case one of them needed to vomit again, or should he call down to the ship’s medical bay? And then there were Noa and Rory - how were they doing? Did anyone need more help than he could give alone? He had to figure this out, and fast.

Behind him, Drew burped harshly and then blew out a breath. “I’m not gonna puke,” he growled when Jeremiah jumped. “Get Logan’s patch first, then ice for Gabe.” He gulped a couple of times and then continued. “And then water for them both to sip, unless we’ve got gatorade here.” He waved his hand in the direction of the mini-fridge. “You’ve got your ‘overthinking resident’ face on. Stop it and do what the nurse says.” He slumped back into the sofa cushions, breathing hard but looking pleased with himself, in a sickly sort of way.

“God I love you,” Jeremiah muttered. “I’m getting you water too; your eyes look sunken.” He rested his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder for a second

“Won’t keep it down yet.” Drew looked suddenly uncomfortable. He slowly put the ice bucket on the floor, grimacing, and Jeremiah knew what was wrong before he spoke.

“Looks like I am going to be hauling your ass to the bathroom.” He slid an arm around Drew’s back and pulled him slowly to his feet. “Can you help me walk?”

Drew gave a tight nod. “Ours,” he said thickly, turning in the direction of their cabin.

The half bath was closer, but Jeremiah didn’t waste time arguing. Drew’s face was pasty and he barely seemed to have the strength to put one foot in front of the other. As soon as Jeremiah got him sitting on the toilet, he leaned forward and buried his head in his arms.

“I’m never eating . . . uhhlp . . . cream puffs again,” he groaned into his lap while Jeremiah rifled through his toiletry bag for the anti-seasickness patches. Drew swayed woozily and Jeremiah pushed the upper part of his body sideways until it rested against the wall. One good thing about the cabin having such a small bathroom, at least.

“Please don’t fall off the toilet until I get back here to help you up.” He grabbed a hand towel and then, for good measure, Drew’s regular anti-nausea meds, popping one into his own cheek and letting it dissolve. Hopefully it would ease his own queasiness enough to let him finish checking on everyone else.

Drew’s eyes were closed but he gave a shaky thumbs up. “Can you -” he swallowed hard, “-get me the garbage can before you go?” His throat bobbed. “Jus’ in case.” His body jolted with a small heave.

“Fuck, Drew; you can’t have any liquid left in you,” Jeremiah sighed. As soon as he stuck the can under the man’s head he tried to spit. Not much came up and Jeremiah swore again. He wanted to stay here and baby his boyfriend, but Logan and Gabe were still waiting in the living room. And Noa probably needed to be checked too; he had no idea how dehydrated she was by now. He squeezed Drew’s shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. Drew gave him another thumbs up.

Back in the living room, Gabe was still lying down, rubbing his hands roughly into his forehead, but Logan was sitting very still, staring at the floor. Her throat bobbed and she audibly gulped, looking miserably at Jeremiah.

“I should’ve made him eat something.” She gagged lightly into her fist and wiped her hand impatiently across her mouth. Across the room, Gabe cracked open his eyes.

“Not . . . not your fault,” he gasped. “You’re sick.” He dropped his head over the side of the couch so he could spit up on the floor and then rolled onto his back again. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“Jus’ . . . jus’ seasick,” Logan protested. “Doesn’t count.”

"Yes it does," Gabe protested thickly before retching onto the floor again. He wasn't bringing much up so Jeremiah decided not to waste the energy of trying to find another garbage can.

“This is adorable kids, really, but how about we all try not puking for a little while?” Jeremiah pressed the sticky circle patch behind Logan’s ear. “Do you think you can keep down some water for me?” Belatedly he realized he probably should have brought her one of the anti-nausea pills too, but the thought of walking all the way back to the bathroom to get one felt exhausting. Logan shook her head.

“Help Gabe,” she commanded, even as he muttered back can you help her feel better?

“I’ll get her some meds to help until the patch kicks in,” Jeremiah promised, bending over the mini fridge to grab some ice. It was a mistake; as soon as he leaned down, it felt like the entire world tilted. Despite the anti-nausea pill he’d just taken, his stomach rolled uncomfortably and he swallowed down saliva, eying the distance to the room’s half-bath. Would throwing up make him feel better or worse? He couldn’t afford to get dehydrated himself right now.

Although it looked like he wasn’t going to have a choice. He threw ice cubes into the towel he was holding and lurched over to the sofa, barely able to speak over the heaviness in his jaw. “Here,” he mumbled, pushing the ice pack onto the back of Gabe’s neck. “‘Scuse . . . scuse me for a second.” He stumbled in the direction of the bathroom and dove for the toilet, making it just in time to lose more of his dinner and the horrible fish that had been upsetting his stomach all night. Emptying himself out took longer than he expected, and he felt weak as a baby when he finally stopped heaving. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet. He still needed to check on Noa, and get back to Drew, and make it upstairs to get Gabe’s migraine meds and see if he could keep them down. And get Logan some anti-nausea, and. . . water . . . and . . .towels . . . and . . .

. . . And in the living room, Rory was holding a towel up to Gabe’s mouth as he heaved again. Logan was holding a bottle of water and taking hesitant sips, and Noa, looking horribly pale and shaky but more or less alert, was curled up on the sofa where Drew had been.

Rory gave Jeremiah a rather pleased grin. “Get your boyfriend off the toilet; medics are on their way up.” He wrinkled his nose. “And a cleaning crew. Apparently Noa and Drew aren’t the only passengers who ate the cream puffs, but I think we’re the only group who managed to have seasickness, migraines, and indigestion too.” He turned back to the other sofa. “You okay, sweetheart? They’re coming up with an IV for you really soon.”

Once again, Jeremiah wanted to cry. “I love you,” he choked out instead, meaning it with every bit of his being. Rory grinned again.

“And I love you. Now go get Drew so he can join in on our love fest here.”

“Better than the pukefest we’ve had so far.” Gabe’s voice was strained, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in it. Jeremiah snorted softly.

“And let us never speak of it again,” he said solemnly.

#glad they are finally getting help #jer was under pressure pressure #being a caretaker while sick is not for the weak #im guessing there will not be another cruise #drew giving orders while quite literally dying himself #“i'm not gonna puke” idk who ur fooling here #cute #logan and gabe the lovebirds #they are so concerned for eachother i love it #definitely the most sick people on that cruise #pukefest indeed #now to read the other ones 👀

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gblogg · 2 months ago

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These little fics mean a lot to me!! @bellysoupset

Posting this and running away

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"What is this?" Jonah chuckled, gesturing vaguely to the image in front of him. This was easily the weirdest thing he had seen in a while.

Leo was inside the bathtub, with no water, in the middle of the day, wearing just his boxers, head leaning back and scrolling in his ipad.

"Hey," the blonde turned his head slightly, voice all soft, "missed you."

How could Jon not melt around this man? He entered further in the bathroom, crouching down to kiss his fiancé and Leo grimaced and pulled back, causing Jonah to whine, "what the hell?"

"You don't wanna kiss me," Leo cringed, "I ate something weird and it messed with me. I just puked," he gestured vaguely to the closed toilet with his head. Jonah raised his eyebrows, surprised.

Leo didn't look sick... But now that Jon looked closer he could tell the sweat clinging to his temples and over his lip. Instead of pale, he was flushed in a slightly unnatural way, specially given how cold their bathroom was.

"Is that why you're in the tub?"

"Yeah, still feel pukey," Leo groaned and slid down in the tub, resting his feet on the opposite end and dropping his ipad to the side. Now that it was no longer blocking Jonah's view, he could tell his fiance's abs were slightly bloated, the usual line separating its quadrants all but faded, "I don't know what's wrong with my office, you'd think such a fancy building would have a decent catering."

Jonah grinned, collapsing down on his ass instead of staying crouched down and leaned in to push Leo's hair back, away from his sweaty forehead. The blonde let out a happy noise at the hair pet, "why don't you come to bed? You can feel sick in the bedroom, where it's comfy."

Leo snorted at that, turning his head so his cheek was pressed to the cold rim of the tub and going boneless as Jonah petted his hair, "bedroom feels too warm, was making me claustrophobic."

"And the bathtub is not?"

"You may question my methods, but not my results," Leo smiled, looking up at him and grabbing the ditched iPad, "I want a March wedding."

"Okay?" Jon moved on the bathroom floor, stripping the thick wool vest he was wearing over his shirt and removing his belt so he was more comfortable, throwing them on top of the sink, "why March?"

"Because I don't wanna wait until October next year," Leo pouted, turning on the screen. Before Jon could question why March and October were the only options, Leo said, "I made a pinterest board."

Jonah couldn't stop smiling, it was embarrassing and hurting his cheek muscles, "you made a pinterest board," he echoed, amused and endeared to hell and back. Leo glared at him, pushing the iPad in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with this stupid smile and look at the board," he tapped the screen, then curled up with a grimace and planted a hand on his stomach, pressing slightly and bringing up a sick burp, "god..."

"Should I move from the line of fire?" Jonah squinted at Leo, noticing the way he was gulping down.

The man shook his head, taking another gulp, "swallowing air," he cleared up, "not gagging."

"Counter intuitive if your stomach hurts, no?"

"Trying to burp," Leo cleared up with a strained voice, digging his fingers in his tummy, until another little sickly burp came up, "urgh, it's stuck."

"My husband, the romantic," Jonah teased him with an eyeroll, then scooted closer, "sit up, let me thump your back."

"Like a baby?" Leo snorted, but obeyed and let out a pleased noise as Jonah started doing exactly that. A couple pats in and he brought up a large, brassy belch.

"UUruorup- Fuck, that felt nice," he hung his head between his knees, breathing out in relief, "look at the board."

"Bossy," Jonah glared at the side of his head, then actually looked at the board. It was a collection of farmhouse weddings and hotels and event-centers... None of it looked very Leo, "uhm- these are the ones you liked?"

"You hate them," Leo sighed, "I don't know, everything I'm able to find is either those ultra girly things that only Wendy could like or, if I search for gay-wedding, it's like they're competing to see who can be more cringy."

Jonah cackled at the bitchiness, earning himself a smile, "this is nice," he leaned against the tub, all but sprawled on the bathroom floor and pointing a picture of a tall, reflective ballroom. Leo draped himself over the edge, squinting at the screen.

"That's a cathedral, Jonah," Leo said dryly, "I'm not gonna get married in a church, thanks."

Jon let out a scoff, "it's in your board!"

"As inspiration! Because I like-" he cut himself off with a nauseated gulp, "the-the tall ceilings..." Leo's voice trailed off and he raised a hand to his mouth, the other one darting up so Jonah could help him up.

Jon was up in a flash, grabbing Leo's hand to hoist him up and leaving the iPad on top of their sink, while the blonde fell to his knees before the toilet and gagged weakly over the water.

He cringed in sympathy as Leo retched and a thin dribble of colored in spit fell in the water, causing him to say in a thick, nauseated voice, "Oh god..." then gag once more, bringing up a mouthful of frothy, beige vomit. Jonah gulped down against the knot in his throat, forcing his gaze away and planted a hand on Leo's naked back. He was covered in cold sweat, muscles seizing under Jon's hand as he continued to heave for another five minutes.

Leo let another sickly burp, the groaned and collapsed forward, causing Jonah to scramble to grab him by the shoulter, "don't split your head open, Leo!"

"Uhhmm, wasn't gonna..." He scoffed, pressing his forehead to the cold porcelain, "I still feel so queasy..."

Jonah hit the flush, then combed his fingers through Leo's sweaty bangs, touching his cheek and forehead inconspicuously. He wasn't feverish and Leo let out a little snort, "I know what you're doing, Dr. Banks..." he blew out another soft burp, "I wanna go to bed but I'm all sweaty..."

"Couch?" Jonah suggested and Leo lifted up his head, considering it for a minute before nodding.

"Yeah okay, help me up..."

It was a bigger hassle than expected, as Leo washed his face and brushed his teeth, only for the toothbrush to send him into another gagging fit, but eventually they managed to move into the living room and Leo collapsed down on the cushions with a sigh, "Jon..."

"I know, I know," he grinned, sitting next to the man and planting his hand on his boyfriend's bloated belly, "tummy rub."

"You're the love of my life," Leo said in a pleased tone, eyes slipping closed as Jonah started rubbing his hand in a soft, gentle circle over his distended abs. It wasn't much of a massage, but he was afraid of putting too much pressure, with all the angry gurgling going on inside.

JD, who had been very busy chasing her toy mice, perked up at the sudden company and jumped on the couch as well, meowing and stepping on Leo's thigh in order to headbutt Jonah's chin.

"She's ignoring me," Leo groaned, pressing a hand on his stomach, "I stepped on her tail earlier."

"Well, I can't blame her," Jonah scoffed, kissing the top of JD's head, "Leo didn't mean it, baby."

As if she understood him, JD crawled on Jon's lap, nuzzling the inside of his arm and letting out a happy meow. Leo opened his eyes to glare at the cat, pouting.

"It was an accident! I was rushing in," his stomach let out a loud growl and he squirmed, gulping down, "Jon..."

"Shit, give me a second," Jonah sprung up, taking JD with him, and rushed to their kitchen, in order to grab a bowl. By the time he made it back, ten seconds later, Leo had his eyes squeezed shut and was breathing slowly through his mouth as if he was giving birth.

"Here, here, here-" Jon pushed the bowl under his chin and Leo grabbed it with sweaty fingers, but didn't immediately retch. Jonah cringed, planting JD down and moving so he wasn't directly looking at the bowl, but could help Leo hold it up, "baby?"

A nauseated hiccup shook the blonde's frame and he let out a moan, leaning forward and drooling over the bowl, "fuck..." he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, "my stomach hurts."

Jonah frowned, not liking this one bit. He hated the strong feeling of concern, over something so dumb like food poisoning, but he couldn't help it. Leo worried him always.

"Leo, no, don't do that!" Jonah groaned, as he realized his fiancee was shoving a finger down his throat to trigger his gag reflex, "don't force it-"

Leo shook his head, pulling back his hand and burping wetly over the bowl, "I can feel it in my stomach..." his voice was thick with queasiness and he hiccupped again, his belly letting out a disgusting wet sound, "Urgh, fuck..."

"Can I h-" he never finished that sentence, as there was a sudden wet noise in the back of Leo's throat and the blonde folded in half, projectile vomiting in the bowl.

He hung over it, panting as if he had just ran a marathon, before letting out a dainty little burp and another impressive stream of sick fell from his lips. Leo let out a whimper, coughing, then sighed, "Holy fuck... I feel tons better," he said hoarsely, causing Jonah to let out a disbelieving snort.

"Are you sure?" Jon scoffed, biting down a gag of his own, his mouth watering like crazy at the gruesome sight. Leo nodded, forcing up another burp.

"Yeah... Like crazy better," he rolled his shoulders, then let out a whine, "aw angel, you look grey. Sit down, I can clean this up-"

"No, I'm o-Oo-" Jonah interrupted himself with a retch and Leo let out a little giggle, planting a kiss in the inside of his wrist, since his boyfriend was sitting on the couch's arm, and slowly getting up.

"You're fine, uh?" He chuckled quietly, grabbing the bowl and gingerly walking to the bathroom to empty it out. Jon let out a humiliated sigh, sitting down on the couch and staring at his feet. He thought he was over this, he hated when Leo was feeling sick and his body decided to attention seek.

His belly clenched and he brought up a little sickly burp, breathing out slowly against the prickles of nausea... "Hey," Leo crouched in front of him, between Jon's knees, "you're okay? Are you sure it's just sympathy sickness?"

"Yep," Jon gulped down, nodding, "are you-"

"Really, I'm fine. That's on me for being too lazy to cross the street to go to the restaurant that I know won't make me ill," Leo rolled his eyes, leaning in and hugging Jonah by the waist.

In this weird position, with his boyfriend down to his knees in the rug, it was easy for Leo to drop his face to his lap and Jonah leaned back, starting to pet the golden waves of hair, "don't take this badly," he said slowly, while Leo sat down on the ground, leaning his head back to keep getting his hair petted, "but you suck at event planning."

Leo let out an offended huff, but didn't say anything and Jonah folded in half to kiss his forehead upside down, "I'm gonna take this from you and I'll scout for a location, okay? You worry about the damn flowers or what not."

"Anything more inconsequential you wanna hand me?" Leo pouted, causing Jon to grin and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Test me and I'll put you on water duty," he teased, before falling back against the couch, "so March?"

"Yeah, March," Leo smiled, then let out a little pleased sigh as JD sniffled his hand and came to sit on his lap.

#leo and the food at work = not good #sitting in the tub seems comfy?#they are so #aww jonah not getting a kiss #cute #every time wedding planning is involved i scream #the printerest board is everything #“tummy rub” stoppp #his sentence being cut off by projectile vomit #poor guy will never catch a break #“you suck at event planning” lol

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gblogg · 2 months ago

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Reblogging out of order!

Barf Bingo, Part IV

A/N: And it's still not over! This is the part I hadn't planned to write, but apparently everyone else had other plans and had more puking to do. It's also completely unedited, more than usual. There will be a Part V.

U is for Unsettled, F is for Food Poisoning, S is for (a tiny bit of ) Seasickness, M is for (the start of a) Migraine.

Jeremiah stared at the two bottles in his hand, willing himself to open at least one and start drinking. Even though he knew he needed to empty his stomach so he could doctor Noa and Drew’s food poisoning without gagging in their faces, the thought of adding anything to his belly - even temporarily - was daunting.

But he hadn’t been joking when he’d told Drew that his body was behaving like a little bitch - hovering just below puking level and making him endure nearly unbearable and unending nausea and heartburn. Forcing himself to eat or drink when already nauseated was fine when he and Drew were indulging in their kink, but right now, with his boyfriend in certain agony of his own, Jeremiah was feeling as far from aroused as imaginable.

For the third time, he hauled himself up over the half-bath’s toilet to burp and spit, hoping against hope that this time, the sight of the water would push his nausea to a 10 and make him throw up without having to drink anything.

But even though his belches were deep and wet and tasted like fish and mayonnaise, the best he could do was gag emptily. Again. Frustrated, he sat back on his heels and glared at the water and Sprite, trying to decide which one would make him puke more quickly.

A soft burp behind him made him whirl around in time to see Drew sway dizzily in the doorway and then sink awkwardly to the ground. He leaned back against the wall and gazed blearily at Jeremiah.

“I vomited,” he rasped, not sounding even a little bit relieved by that fact. “Figure I’ve got a few minutes before the next round.”

Jeremiah gave him an incredulous look. “And you came to sit with me?” Without waiting for an answer he reached out and pinched the back of Drew’s hand, tutting when the skin stayed peaked instead of bouncing back. “You’re already dehydrated,” he fussed. “How did you even walk here?”

Drew shrugged. “Badly,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “May have been a poor . . . urrp . . . decision.” Jeremiah watched his boyfriend’s throat bob for another second before shifting himself to the side of the toilet so Drew had a clear path.

“You’re grey, love,” he sighed, and then when Drew didn’t move, tugged him gently up over the bowl and held him in place. “Go ahead and get it up. The sooner you’re empty the sooner I can put you to bed.” He rubbed his boyfriend’s back, trying to get him to burp and then hopefully vomit. “I assume you haven’t taken any meds.”

Drew shook his head and fell back onto his ass, landing in Jeremiah’s lap. “Was going to take Imodium and then I got nauseous,” he said heavily. “I’ll try after I puke.”

“And when will that be?” Jeremiah brushed the man’s coppery waves off his forehead where they’d stuck to his skin and then leaned forward to plant a kiss on his clammy cheek. “You’re a mess, Thornton.”

Drew chuckled softly. “You should talk, Gable.” He reached down and picked up the Sprite. “Don’t you need to go check on Noa? Drink this so you can puke yourself.”

“Yes, Nurse,” Jeremiah grumbled, but his boyfriend’s presence gave him the push he needed. Without giving himself any more time to think, he cracked open the bottle and began chugging, trying to force down the entire thing before his stomach rebelled. Drew rested his hand on his back and when Jeremiah finally dropped the empty bottle and lurched forward he began patting between his shoulder blades.

Soda always made Jeremiah burpy, even when he wasn’t nauseous, and it took almost no effort to start belching, thick and deep and brassy. His stomach flipped nauseatingly and he froze over the bowl, waiting for the heave that would bring everything up. Spicy saliva dripped into the water, sharp from the Sprite, and Jeremiah’s next burp turned into a gag.

“Pat . . . harder,” he choked out. The final retch was sitting just at the bottom of his throat; it needed just a bit more pressure to force it up.

But Drew’s hand fell off his back and behind him, Jeremiah heard a gulping, frothy burp, and then the sound of liquid splattering on the tile floor. As much as he wanted to offer comfort, his own jaw tingled with fresh nausea and he knew that if he turned away from the toilet he’d be adding to the mess on the ground. Blindly, he reached back and managed to make contact with some part of Drew’s body, squeezing awkwardly while listening as he heaved a second time. It didn’t sound like he brought much more up, but from the panting and spitting Jeremiah could tell that his nausea hadn’t eased.

And his own was spiking. A second later he had to pull his hand away to brace his arms around the toilet seat. His stomach contracted and he retched, and then again, heaving up all of the Sprite in one huge gush. It was the push his body needed to finally start purging his dinner. For a few long minutes the only sounds he could hear came from his own body - sick gurgles turning into deep burps and then becoming retching heaves of barely digested food and beer. In between he panted and spit, gripping the toilet so tightly his knuckles went white and the ringing in his ears drowned out everything else.

By the time he was done, his head was spinning and he was coated in sticky sweat. It dripped down his back under his pajama shirt and made everything feel clammy and gross. He rested his cheek on the toilet seat and tried to catch his breath. “Fuck,” he panted. He reached back again, but found only air. “Drew?”

“I’m here.” Drew’s voice was lower down than Jeremiah expected. He turned gingerly to find his boyfriend curled up on the floor. “You okay?”

Jeremiah huffed a laugh. “I should ask you that.” He picked up the bottle of water and rinsed his mouth, spitting back into the toilet, and then took a few careful sips. His stomach rolled but didn’t immediately reject the liquid and he decided to take that as a win. “Can you keep down some water?” Drew’s eyes were sunken and lips cracked and his head lolled on the ground as if it was too heavy to lift. He grimaced.

“Not . . . not yet. Still queasy.” He twisted to look Jeremiah in the eye. “I’m going to be fine. Go take care of Noa.”

He wanted to object, but he knew Drew was right. He nodded. “Rory’s probably losing his shit by now.” Drew gave a small chuckle.

“Oh, he lost it a while ago, I think.” He lifted his hands. “Help me to the sofa?”

Once Drew was settled with a towel across his lap and a bottle of water he promised to try to drink, Jeremiah crossed the room to the other cabin, entering without knocking and then leaving the door open so he could keep half an eye on his boyfriend, at least.

The bathroom door was open too, and by the looks of things, Noa had just finished on the toilet again. She was standing upright, but barely, arms draped over Rory as he finished tugging up her pajama bottoms, speaking softly to her as he carefully turned her to the sink to wash her hands. A second later her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor.

“Shit!” Rory dropped down beside her and pulled her head onto his lap. “Noa?” His voice shook.

“I’ve got her.” Jeremiah pushed his way into the small bathroom and knelt down next to his friends. Rory let out a relieved sob and grabbed Jeremiah’s hand.

“She’s so weak; what’s wrong?”

“Diarrhea is very dehydrating in a short period of time, but I’m not concerned.” Direct information was best with Rory. Jeremiah felt Noa’s pulse and squeezed the back of her hand and then rested his palm across her cheek until she opened her eyes. “Hey sweetheart.”

Noa licked her lips. “Hi,” she whispered. Her mouth contorted in a grimace and Jeremiah calmly grabbed a towel from the sink under the shelf. He put it under her mouth just in time for her to burp and then heave up a little bit of liquid. Rory made a distressed sound.

“Is that bad that she’s puking? She wasn’t before.” He put his own hand on the other side of his girlfriend’s face and tried to get her to look at him.

Fortunately Jeremiah had a lot of experience managing Rory when he became panicky about Noa. “Vomiting’s to be expected with food poisoning,” he said, still calm. “Drew’s thrown up a bunch of times already.” He couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the living room even though he could only see the back of the sofa. “Once the nausea eases we can work on introducing fluids.” He handed the man a washcloth. “Can you wet this for me?”

Rory jumped to comply and Jeremiah watched closely as he swayed lightly on his feet. “And how’s your stomach? Any more vomiting?”

Rory made an impatient sound. “No. I’m still kind of nauseous but pretty sure I’m empty.” He handed over the washcloth and then pulled Noa back onto his lap. “Just gagging a little bit. It doesn’t matter.”

“He puked . . . puked next to the bed,” Noa mumbled, and Jeremiah grinned when Rory huffed again.

“Barely anything!” he protested. “You’ve been a lot more sick.”

“I’d tell you it’s not a competition but with you two it seems to be,” said Jeremiah mildly. Noa looked about as bad as Drew did, which was to say bad, but not dangerously so. “Do you think I can . . . put both of you to bed?” If he had to admit it, his own stomach wasn’t feeling completely settled yet and he wasn’t sure if he needed to throw up again. He burped and tried not to grimace. Rory gave him a sharp look.

“You okay?”

Jeremiah waved him off. “Fine. Just feeling a few aftershocks, but a lot better than earlier.” That was true, at least. “So, bed?”

From her place on the floor, Noa shuffled. “Rory?” she asked, voice tiny and thin. “I’m g’onn . . . puke.” A second later her body jerked and without even lifting her head she threw up onto the towel that was still bunched under chin. Rory didn’t even flinch. He pulled a few strands of hair back from her face and leaned over, cooing softly.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Get it all up and then Jer and I’ll help you to bed, okay?” He grabbed the washcloth from Jeremiah’s hand and began wiping her face. “Better?”

Noa choked up a little more liquid and then took a deep breath. “Yeah. I think so.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Can I lie down now?”

“Definitely.” Jeremiah climbed slowly to his feet and then grabbed onto the sink while his head swam dizzily. Rory’d probably forgive him eventually if he dropped his girlfriend but he didn’t want to find out. He spit into the sink and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Moving Noa with Rory’s help was a lot easier than it had been to help Drew onto the sofa alone, still, Jeremiah was panting with the effort by the time she was settled against the pillow with yet another towel on her lap. There was also one on the floor, likely where Rory had thrown up, and Jeremiah couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of a record. He leaned tiredly against the wall until Rory was also on the bed and then carefully handed them each a bottle of water.

“Slowly . . . urrp . . . sips,” he cautioned, burping under his breath. “I think we’re almost out of clean towels.”

Rory peered at him. “Go lie down, Jer. You look terrible.”

Jeremiah grimaced and rubbed at his stomach until it worked up another belch. “Gee, love you too, Ror.” He checked Noa’s pulse again and nodded. “I’ll be on the sofa if you . . . .hrrrk . . . need me.” Hopefully it sounded like he just wanted to be near his patients but truly he wasn’t sure he had the energy right now to make it all the way to his cabin. And anyway, he wanted to snuggle with his boyfriend, even if both of them were trying not to puke at the time.

“Thanks,” Rory mumbled, snuggling into Noa’s side, and Jeremiah took that as the sign he could leave.

A deep burp greeted him as he walked into the living room and Jeremiah sighed. “Still feeling rough, then?” he asked, and then stopped at the sight in front of him. Drew looked like he’d tried to get off the sofa but failed; he was slumped over the back, watching Gabe, who was holding up Logan as she burped again and then spit onto the floor. But her seasickness wasn’t his concern. Gabe’s face was white and pinched with pain and Jeremiah just managed to make it to him to pull Logan into his arms before Gabe bent over and grabbed his head in both hands. His desperate eyes swept the room.

“M-m-migraine,” he ground out before retching harshly and vomiting all over the floor.

#chaos chaos #oh no not a migrane #this was so well written #jer going doctor mode #jer finally puked!#at least it's not food poisoning #adding more and more is everything #everybody is dowwnnn

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gblogg · 2 months ago

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Hi lovelies! Since I said "gblogg back in business," I will stay to my word and get back to posting. I was a bit caught up with life and stuff (as usual), BUT I am almost done with the appendix fic, and can I say this fic is by far the longest and most difficult one yet!! I truly apologise for the long wait, but I'm getting there 🫣

I also MUST get back to reblogging and commenting. It's seriously out of hand now! I see that @lisupandowntown has gotten back to posting, and I have so many amazing fics to comment on, but there's a LOT! (Not complaining whatsoever) Also, @bellysoupset has a lot of fics that I must finish reading. I will get to it, guys! Don't you worry.

Went a little overboard here, but just know I'll be back sometime this week.

- G

#hi #my writing #why are appendix fics so long to write omgg

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gblogg · 3 months ago

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Queasy hiccups.

That is all

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gblogg · 3 months ago

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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."

#wonder couple #nico kim #phoenix Fuentez #my writing #sickfic #i somehow really hate this bc its rushed but #gblogg back in business #hopefully lol

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gblogg · 3 months ago

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

#ik i said i was gonna come back but that obviously was a lie #but im back now lol #whoever requested the appendix fic im so sorry

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gblogg · 3 months ago

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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! 💕

#appreciate you all #thank you #really warmed my heart

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gblogg · 3 months ago

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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??

#my writing #getting back to it

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gblogg · 4 months ago

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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,

#will kinda be lurking still #really wanna get over this man #ignoring my mental illness is getting me nowhere lol #so sorry guys #honestly embarrassed

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gblogg · 4 months ago

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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).

😳😳😳😳

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

"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..."

#this was so hot whatt #sweating rn #the way he kept stopping to burp #oh wendy you are being setttt upppp #i know she was enjoying every second of his suffering #soup this is beautiful #“really really bad” STOP #wendy is so obsessed and vince is such a tease #love their relationship #the conversation about overworking aww #vince the concerned boyfriend

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gblogg · 4 months ago

Note

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!

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

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."

#the beginning 👀#i remember the first fic you wrote about her not believing him #just imagining the puke that decorated their bathroom rn #he was indeed overdue for a migrane #luke will get his payback for sure #the teasing is everything #i would be furious too cos #i love the switch up to “Atwood”#feel sorry for him every migrane man #the guilt she must have felt #yeah luke i agree she definitely should be sorry

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gblogg · 4 months ago

Text

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.”

#they made uppp!!! yeeessss my babies #his stomach jumping when he saw her awww #i love how logan immediately noticed how horrible he was feeling #gabe sick again?? he cannot catch a break the poor guy #i really love the way you wrote this #poor gabe was feeling shitty all day #YES I AGREE the “you're leaving” it killed me a little #noas bday seemed super chaotic #logan yelling at her for not noticing much needed #“medics coming through” LOVED IT #burpsss #gabe being like “oh yeah i have to throw up”#they are my favs i love them #Lis you are so so good at writing man #jer demanding a massage just thought i HAD to mention that part #THEY MADE UP WOOOOO

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