#Alas Kurt's choice at the end is absolutely avoidant since because digestive issues

[hungrytummyprompts]

How about tired with a side of extra whump?

As soon as the door closed behind him, Kurt collapsed straight into his bed. He didn't even bother removing his shoes, or his hero gear. Hell, the hero gear was best left on as much as possible. He'd live in it if he could, it was the one thing he had that protected his skin from his own powers. Anyway, his main goal for now was to just sleep until he felt at least a little rested, which would be...six years perhaps? Yeah, that was in line with how exhausted he felt now. He'd even elected to stay in a room in the team base instead of making his way home home, even though that would certainly leave him more at risk of Katharine's nagging about getting injuries seen to or whatever else. Honestly, she was worse than his ex sometimes.

It probably would have been easier to sleep if he had let her treat his wounds. Then he would just have to deal with the nausea that came with the excess acid in his system (thanks, acid powers) and the way that excess acid made it difficult to eat properly.

Speaking of which, he was starving. As usual. His belly gave its usual complaints, a low, longing groan that bid him to get out of bed and go back to the common room. He pushed himself up on his arms, yawned and decided 'fuck it'. A second later, he was face down in the pillow again.

Sleep didn't come easily, much to his chagrin. Despite his exhaustion, the aches and pains across his body digging into his psyche every time he tried to relax bothering him more than he'd care to admit. Hunger was digging at his belly like a frantic animal, and now he was no longer in the midst of battle his stomach decided it was cool to complain. He shifted position for a while, trying to get comfortable if it was the last thing he did, and ended up on his back, one leg bent up, one arm slung over his eyes, the other draped languidly over his poor neglected stomach. In this position he could really feel it sinking in from lack of food, each miserable grumble like a knife to his already sore body.

He didn't neglect it on purpose, of course. If he could control it, he'd be eating well every day, enough even to become good and fat. He imagined how it would feel to be completely stuffed with good food and thought it would be the ultimate fantasy.

The problem was his acid powers. His body naturally overproduced saliva, enough that he was either forced to swallow it down or spit it out with frankly ridiculous frequency. There was always a pause in conversation when it was his turn while he cleared his mouth of the latest stupid puddle. It meant he always had a huge amount to spit at enemies, but outside of a fight situation it was nothing but a pain.

Additionally, the saliva his body produced was a highly corrosive acid. More potent than anything else he'd encountered in his life so far. His body didn't seem properly equipped to handle it either. Any time it touched his skin, it burned. He had scars around his mouth, his lips mostly scar tissue, his hands and arms carrying the proof of old burns. The inside of his body had some protection. It still burned his mouth and throat, but not enough to cause obvious major damage. Sometimes he would gag as the acid slid down his throat, his body bringing it back up as it begged him to get rid of it, and jesus fuck did that hurt, and having more acid in his stomach than he was supposed to was just awful. It hurt, especially when his stomach was empty, it made him feel sick, it bloated him and gave him ulcers, it just sucked more than anything.

Overall, this made simply eating and drinking normally highly unpleasant. Anything in his mouth caused it to water, which of course meant more acid spit, it would quickly become some nasty mush before he could even chew it, his body would try to reject it when he swallowed, his stomach wouldn't even absorb whatever made it in properly and there was a fair chance he would throw up later.

Okay, maybe some of the neglect was willful avoidance of a very unpleasant process but mostly it was just hard to get anything good into his stomach. A stomach that was currently throwing an absolute tantrum in his exhausted body. He dug his fingers in against the miserable organ, just wishing it would stop. He was tired and just wanted to sleep without his tummy screaming at him. It was too much, he couldn't do it anymore.

At some point in the mess of misery, he must have fallen into a light sleep because he was startled awake by his door opening. He knew who it was without looking. The whole room stank of death and rot, which didn't help the nausea at all. He couldn't judge Katherine for it though, it was a shitty side effect of her powers too.

"Get out."

She instead placed something on the desk. He caught the scent of broth and groaned as his stomach clenched and howled. Katherine huffed.

"I could hear your stomach from all the way down the hall. Eat, you idiot."

He raised a hand and waved her away,  waited until he heard her leave and shut the door and sat up to look at what she had brought.

Soup.

Simple soup. Some kind of vegetable soup by the smell. His belly begged him to get up, take those few steps to the desk and eat the whole thing. When had he last eaten? It looked so good and he was so hungry, and he could tell what Katherine had meant. His tummy was growling non stop and so fucking loud, even before she'd brought the soup in. He contemplated dragging himself out of bed to eat.

Then lay back down with both hands pressed to his belly. He would eat later, he promised himself. For now, he was just too damn tired.