#OC emeto

[angstyaches]

Hi Flick! How about “my belly is really upset” for Rin with Charlie as caretaker?

I know it’s been a minute since you’ve written for Rin, but I love that girl 😊💜 Congrats again on over 1000 followers!

Hi, dear! The way I squealed when you requested Rin, thank you so much!!

100x10

CW: food mention, nausea, public setting.

___

Charlie heard the metal bottle in Rin’s bag clink against the armrest. He looked over as Rin shifted in her seat, the lights from the theatre screen glinting across her glasses. 

“Charlie Bear?” She leaned in close to whisper at him. The paper bucket had been emptied, banished to the floor, but the sickly-sweetness of the caramel popcorn lingered on her breath. “Sorry. My belly is really upset –” 

A loud hiccup jerked her frame and she glanced sheepishly towards the strangers seated nearby. She raised a hand to her mouth, shoulders lurching forward. 

Charlie gently took her arm. “Let’s go.” 

[outootome]

uuu

And 2nd

[hae-meto]

Doing this thing on twitter rn (btw my twitter is @hae_meto) where every rt and like equals to an increase in body temp and holy cow were people interested lmao

this dude should already be dead at this point 😫

But here are my doodles for each 0.5 degree increase (~38 degrees c) 🤙

Feeling… a little drowsy…

What’s up with him?

I don’t know. Told me he isn’t feeling good. He’s a little warm.

He’s still feeling like he’s gonna throw up.

Still have something to puke though?

Enjoy👍

[secretobsessionstuff]

The Early Days 💜

In the early days of their relationship, Riley tried his hardest not to burp around Madix. Really, he avoided any bodily functions for the first three months of their dating. It wasn’t a big deal—just a slight aversion to showing vulnerability. Definitely not something he needed to bring up in therapy. 

So, imagine his embarrassment when his belly started to gurgle nauseously on their fifth or sixth outing that happened to be a double date with Madix’s roommate. Dakota was very friendly and loud. His girlfriend, Blair, was more relaxed. They wanted to do something more social than a movie, so Madix suggested a boardgame café just off campus. The combination of new people, a colourful environment, and an upset tummy made him dizzy.   

It was early in the evening. The four of them talked about splitting a plate of nachos as long as they kept the cards and game pieces clean. Riley agreed to everything they said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t eat anything. His stomach still felt full from lunch, and the idea of adding greasy cheese to the mix made him shiver. 

“What’s your major, Riley?” Blair asked after taking her turn to play a card. She had a soft smile that made Riley wish he could engage better in the conversation. 

“Um…psychology.” 

“That’s exciting. I almost took psych but changed my mind because…” 

A hot layer of sweat coated Riley’s body when he felt a gurgle move through his intestines. He shifted in his seat, trying to dull the squelching sounds. He caught bits and pieces of Blair’s story, but his attention was entirely stolen by the writhing in his belly. 

This was bad. The nausea and lower stomach cramps battled for dominance. He was most worried about the bubbling sensation in his bowels. Sweat gathered under his armpits and his neck. Pretty soon he would have to find the bathroom and pray that nobody else needed to go. 

Blair finished speaking but Riley apparently forgot to say anything in reply. There was a long, drawn-out pause. He startled when he felt Madix’s hand softly touch his leg from under the table. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Riley said lamely, pushing his chair back to get out from under the table. “Sorry, I’m just gonna find the washroom.” 

For the next half-hour, Riley came and went from the table. Sometimes he made up excuses about getting a drink, yet never coming back with a cup. Sometimes he left in the middle of a game without saying a word. Most of the time, he hid himself in the single-person washroom, thankful that no one else could come in. 

His belly couldn’t make up its mind about being empty or not. Whenever he thought that there could be no more water left in his cells, he was once again proven wrong by the urgent rumbling in his guts. At least the stomach cramps were never enough to make him vomit, despite the nausea that clung to him like humid air. 

• • •

“Madix, I don’t think your date understands the concept of ‘taking turns’,” Dakota remarked as he rearranged his hand of cards for the fifth time. “He does know that the turns will eventually come back to him, right?” 

“Be patient, baby,” Blair answered for Madix. “He’s probably just nervous. Eat more nachos while we wait.” 

Madix sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to see down the hallway that led to the bathroom. He was beginning to think that he chose an overly-stimulant place for their date. Riley had confessed to him that meeting new people was difficult for him, and here there was a whole other level to the socializing. No wonder his date kept taking breaks. Even Madix found the sounds of other people playing games distracting. The lights were too bright and the rules to every new game were complicated.  

“I should have picked a quieter place for him to meet you guys,” Madix said sadly. “I really want him to like you both.” 

Dakota nodded. “It’ll get easier. I’ll try to shut up more.”

“If he even wants to do this again,” Madix mused. 

Finally, Riley returned to the table. He ambled unsteadily down the hall, keeping his arms crossed over his body. Madix’s face lit up with a big smile as he pushed Riley’s chair out for him. That smile slowly fizzled away when Riley remained standing. 

Riley ran a shaky hand through his hair and spoke with a faint voice. “Madix, can I talk to you alone for a sec, please?” 

The boy was on his feet before Riley could finish the sentence. The two of them stood alone in the corner of the room. Madix lightly touched his arm, waiting for Riley to speak, dreading what he would say. 

“I think I’m gonna go home now.”

Madix tried to keep his expression neutral, as much as he wanted to pout and beg with Riley to stay. “…Okay, if that’s what you want. I’m sorry if this place is a bit much. It’s very busy, isn’t it?” He wanted to hug Riley and take his saddened look away. “And I’m sorry for touching your leg like that earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Oh gosh, no. It’s not you,” Riley said pleadingly. Fuck, this is not what he wanted. He couldn’t let Madix think the date made him uncomfortable. But the only other option would be to admit how he felt.

“My friends really like you, I promise,” Madix rambled on. “Dakota is just an ADHD mess who never knows when to be quiet. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it. And Blair said she wants to be your best friend.” 

“Madix, it’s not you or your friends or this place.” Riley grabbed his arms to keep him from saying anything else. It was nice to lean on someone. Suddenly the fatigue, nausea, and dehydration slammed into him all at once. He swayed forward. “To be honest, I’m not feeling so hot.” 

“What?” Madix became aware of the weight he was supporting. He watched Riley’s eyelids droop, and his shoulders relax as the truth came out. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to see the signs in Riley’s baggy eyes, ashen skin, and sweaty palms. It explained his absence for most of the date. 

Riley let out a heavy exhale. Madix’s face softened as he began to understand. He might as well try a little exposure therapy and tell Madix the rest. “Something in my stomach isn’t sitting so well.”

“Did you throw up?” A realization dawned in Madix’s eyes. “Shit, you have that phobia thing, don’t you? What can I do? Maybe you should sit down.” 

“N-no, I’m okay for now. The fear is mainly towards other people. Like the sounds and stuff.” Riley shuffled his feet awkwardly on the floor, feeling his neck grow warm. “I haven’t thrown up. It hasn’t exactly hit my stomach yet, just um…other areas.” 

“Oh?” Madix cocked his head to the side, waiting for his brain to catch up. “Oh, right. Jeez, I’m sorry. That’s—that’s not fun.” 

Riley shook his head. Nothing about this was fun…okay except maybe Madix’s undivided attention, his strong grip on his arms, and the gentle way he spoke. Still, he didn’t want Madix to be around when the next wave hit. He didn’t want to be here at all. “So, I need to go home.” 

“Of course, yeah. I’ll order a ride.” He looked back at their table. “I’ll make up some excuse for why you have to leave. Can I wait with you outside?” 

“Sure.” 

The curb was cold on their butts, but it was better than standing. Their knees knocked together. Madix wrapped an arm around his date, trying to keep him warm. Occasionally, Riley moaned and leaned his face into Madix’s shoulder. 

“I got you. Everything good still?” 

The gurgling was back, this time causing Riley’s stomach to roil. His actual stomach. The organ ached beneath his hand. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than before. Nausea climbed higher up his throat, filling his mouth with saliva that he spat on the concrete. 

“I think I need to be sick,” Riley said, wiping his mouth. He opened his legs further to lean his head down into.

“Do you want me to leave?” An excellent question that Riley didn’t know the answer to. He liked the warmth pressed into his side. He liked the feeling of Madix’s hand rubbing his back. Without a reply, Madix continued by saying, “I don’t mind staying. You won’t gross me out.” 

A thick belch erupted from Riley’s mouth. He let his mouth hang open for saliva to trickle between his legs. “Ugh, please stay. I feel awful.” 

“I know, love, I know.” Madix rubbed big circles on the boy’s back. He vaguely wondered if Riley was going to overthink the term of endearment. All he knew was that his mom called everyone that, and it seemed to bring them comfort. It certainly brought Madix comfort when he’d been upset or sick.

Riley gagged over the puddle of saliva. The empty heaves rolled his shoulders forward with a harsh retch. He breathed heavily, hoping the vertigo would lessen before he actually started to vomit. His vision was obscured with black shadows at the edges. Madix remained sturdy, allowing Riley to anchor himself to him. 

A few hiccups and burps later, Riley brought up a watery wave of sick. Each successive belch became thicker until the full contents of his stomach were splattered on the ground. He felt disgusting. The view at his feet was sickening. But there is no point in describing it because none of it deterred Madix from staying by Riley’s side. 

After a lull in the vomiting, Madix squeezed his shoulder. “Do you feel better?” 

Riley sniffled. “A little. Thanks for keeping me company. I’ve never allowed a date to see me like this.” 

Madix placed his palm on his chest. “Well, I’m honoured.”

[gritpyre]

@cyberwhumper's rex saving alma from alcohol poisoning, she's not appreciative 😔

[writing-whump]

The Sound of a Headache

Kieran visits an old friend, talks about pack machinations and terrible plans and gets called in for a vomiting emergency.

Kieran waited in that brand new office smelling of money for a good hour before Dominick finally showed up.

He got a satisfying yelp of surprise for his trouble and the funniest shocked look.

"Are you hellbent on giving me a heart attack?" Dominick asked. He wore a perfectly fit gray suit and a pink shirt. Like he just walked off a modeling mollo. "How did you get in?"

"Climbed up to the 12th floor through the window like a good stuntman," Kieran said with an eye roll and a grin. "Gerlinde let me in."

Dominick threw a disturbed look through the glass wall towards the table with his young, small secretary with a messy curly bun. She had the most innocent look and the most sly smile, when she caught his eye.

"Not like she is wrong to do it," Kieran reminded him with an amused huff.

Dominick let out a dramatic sight than abandoned his stylishly slanted table in front of the aquarium and sat down on the opposite couch to Kieran. "So what's up?"

Kieran look at his wrist without a watch with grin. "Mr. CEO. Do I have a time limit for my visit? Should I write myself into your calander to get included?"

"You have no gigs for this week," Dominick guessed dryly.

"We can't all be working our butts off all the time."

"I'm trying to win over the council for the next chairman vote, thank you." His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Just finished the funding for the new project. It's gonna be a hit, I'm telling you."

Kieran leaned back in the seat, arms propped on top. "As your most successful stuntman worker, I hope it has a lot of action."

Dominick returned his grin. "Of course. Scenes perfect just for you and your expertise." He rubbed at his face, copying Kieran's position and leaning back a little as well.

Kieran eyed him critically, notcing the pallor and the dark circles, despite the gell little waves of light cinnamon hair. "Dude, how many all nighters did you pull this time? Isn't the point of being a CEO that you have people to assign work to?"

"You have to give the right kind of work to the right person. I don't think you are much into team effort, Kier."

"Oh my god, you sound so boss-like right now," Kieran teased. But it was nice seeing Dominick in his element, even if it was work Kieran would not in million years, choose for himself.

"What about you? Your apartment project going well?"

Kieran huffed. "It's a bit slower than I imagined. You got any extra new info on Isaiah for me?"

Dominick raised an eyebrow. "I found out about the building ownership for you, didn't I? No upper hand from that?"

"I would have to use it against his pack. They don't know," Kieran grimaced, "and I don't want to hurt them."

"That's tricky, then, if you don't want anyone hurt," Dominick sounded smug instead of sympathetic, as if that proved Kieran had morals that won over his more sinister aspirations. "I'm glad though. I don't want to make an enemy out of Isaiah Wolfson."

"Oh? How did he get to you?"

"His Executioner...position or whatever it is? His influence is 10 times the size of what it was last year. If anything, I want him on my side, when I'm dealing with wolves."

Kieran stuck out his tongue at him. "Traitor."

"Wolf packs are the best investors," Dominick said with a shrug. "I got the second breath for this company because of shareholders from wolf packs. They are the richest families with their territories turning to estates and buildings they own."

"Still looking for stashes of gold?"

"All the big names have it. Though the middle sized ones are more willing to spend it to get a hold of this city." Dominick rubbed his hands together, eyes glinting. "I got a deal from the Blackwells for the next movie."

"Blackwells...Margaret Blackwell?"

"Yep. An ambitious witch. Kicked out her husband and took over the pack and it's growing, man."

"I don't get how that woman works. She has more human children than wolves...Matthew is cast out, and only her youngest daughter is a witchling."

"Precisely," Dominick said, leaning forward, fingers connecting at the tips. "A wolf pack of their size and money would never let me near their witches. But so many human daughters?"

"Jesus, man, you sound like you want to marry one."

When Dominick said nothing, smile still on, Kieran sat up straight at once. "Wait, really?"

"So what? I need someone wealthy and with a connection to an old wolf family that could invest in my bussiness? Ideal."

"You are so romantic," Kieran said dryly.

They didn't talk about Dominick's desperate yearning for a wolf community connection. They were both humans, but as much Kieran wanted out of the loop and his family circles, that much Dominick wanted in.

Dominick's mother was a human lover of a wolf with a high position in a middle sized pack (which was rich as hell, just not as established). His father had bussiness aspirations and needed humans for it, falling in love with his secretary.

Scandalous connection as it was, since humans were off limits to a powerful wolf. His human mother was considered a waste and his human son only worth in so far he could carry a shadow wolf gene. If a wolf ever wanted him in the pack, which no one did.

That Dominick had an insane bussiness instinct and could turn a dying movie production company into a leading and prospering one was a suprise wolves were too short-sighted to expect.

But it made Dominick known between the packs, which is also how Kieran got to meet and befriend him. He became a sort of informator between humans and wolves, with connections to some of the bigger names as his investors.

Since wolves were great at owning and keeping something, but not in multiplying and managing their money - which made them interested in humans who could. Preferably inside their packs.

Kieran scoffed at the image. "So what's the big plan?"

"Nothing much. I was at a few dinners with the Blackwells. Margaret's daughters are spirited to say the least. And it also created an opportunity with Isaiah."

"Huh?"

"He was here just a week ago—he asked me if I could arrange a meeting between the sisters at and his pack. Maybe like a premiere cinema stream? I'm assuming he wants their brother to meet with them outside their mother's reach."

"And how is that gonna help you win Margaret over?"

"I'm not sure who is going to have more pull—Isaiah or her. His name and rep mean more but she has money. But imagine I would help them get reconciled. I would have both." He looked at Kieran. "You are friends with him, right? Isaiah and Matt and the sisters in one pocket..."

Kieran frowned, crossing his arms on his chest. "That sounds risky, man."

"Shouldn't you be the one most down with it?"

"I risk myself, that's different." And he didn't think wolf-human family problems were entirely in Dominick's capacity to understand. Kieran knew no specifics of the Matthew case, but he had a few ideas and none of them could be solved over a movie.

"Look, the oldest one, Melissa, is a great catch. Doctor, knows her way around wolves, fitting background-"

"Anyone told you we are not in middle ages and that's not how marriage works anymore?"

"Depends on where," Dominick shot back, rubbing at his temples. His parents couldn't be together exactly for the arrangement reasons. Maybe that's why he didn't believe in love playing any part in the resulting happiness.

"I don't like this plan," Kieran said, straightforward as he was used to. "It's risky and you have no idea what you are getting into. You don't know why he got kicked out and if his sisters want him back at all."

Dominick huffed in disappointment, deflating like a baloon. "You are no fun."

Also likely the only one you told, Kieran realized.

"Hey, what about this. Let's go camping. Two weeks, just fresh air and a lake and the two of us. You will get some distance from these ideas and well-earned rest and everything will look fresh and different."

Dominick shook his head, then stopped himself with a minuscule wince. "You don't know anything about business. I can't just pack and up leave whenever anymore."

"You are exactly the one who can," Kieran said, giving Dominick a meaningful look. You shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks. Please think about yourself. He wanted to say it so bad, but didn't dare to. It was a touchy topic.

"Alright, I'll be going then. Don't let me stop you from making money." Kieran got to his feet.

Dominick still looked disappointed by the reaction, but he knew better than to argue, getting up to hug Kieran goodbye. "See you later, fall guy. Say hi to Alessia for me."

...

Kieran didn't know why he had such a bad feeling today. Bad enough to check on Dominick and see for himself. But there was nothing more he could do, was there? He could offer his support, distraction and a listening ear, but it wasn't like he could order him to sit and rest. Especially since Kieran would never follow such advice.

Here was to hoping Dominick would tell him if he actually needed something.

That evening around 10 pm he got a sudden call from Dominick though. Kieran called him right back, but when Dominick, didn't pick up, he called Gerlinde instead. The girl was immensely useful, immediately sending him Dominick's schedule for the day and assuring him the CEO was still at the firm.

Kieran took his motorcycle and headed straight there.

The building was dark, some of its glamour disappearing with the lights and the buzz of people in the offices. "Dominick? Hello?"

He looked through the place, the kitchen and the terrace, then settled on just dialing his number and orient himself by the ringing.

It led back to Dominick's office. Another all-nighter? Kieran was worried enough that even an accident call would be a relief.

He found the phone twitching on the desk like a dying fish. The lights were also off, the hush from the aquarium filter filling the room.

"Dom?"

There was a small whimper that had the hair standing up on his neck. Kieran circled the giant desk.

Dominick was on the floor, sitting next to the cupboard, arms wrapped around his knees and hunched over, which was a strange position for such a tall man. He was shaking.

Kieran kneeled beside him, heart somewhere in his throat. "Dominick? Hey, buddy, what's wrong?"

His head jerked up towards the voice, his eyes red and swollen. "Kier?"

"Yeah, it's me." Kieran put a hand on his shoulder, looking him over, though he had an idea. "Your head?"

Dominick blinked at him, then closed his eyes with a pained grimace, groaning. "Started...started as static in my ears...then the headache-now I can't see straight, Kier..." He sounded scared, small, all the confidence from just that lunch gone.

"You are such an idiot, you know that? All-nighters for a big project, what did you think would happen?" Kieran whisper-yelled, squeezing his shoulder. "I'll drive you home, come on."

"C-can't move. Everything is twirling and the lights- and-and-" Dominick lifted a hand towards Kieran so his friend could see. His hand was twitching, down from his elbow to the last two fingers, in 2 second intervals.

"Christ," Kieran cursed under his breath. "Hospital?"

"Apparently, it's normal," Dominick said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "Can happen now during an a-attack."

"Shhhh." Kieran shifted to sit next to him, pulling him into a hug. Dominick was shaking in his grip, heartbreaking little whimpers coming from where he pressed his face against Kieran's chest.

It started with the headaches. Those were normal for most of his teenage years. But the dizziness, lights and static sounds, the way faces blurred together and he couldn't catch his balance...that got a lot worse in the last years.

And all because of a chip in his brain from an injury, Dominick had when he was a child.

Kieran held him diligently, wishing there was a medication or magical cure he could give him at times like this. When he felt Dominick's head jerk up with a burp, he patted his arm gently. "Nausous, buddy?"

"I hate my fucking brain so much," Dominick said, voice still weak and whiny.

Kieran slowly untangled himself from him to locate a trash can filled with papers and position it into Dominick's lap. "Here. Do you want some water?"

Dominick shook his head. Tears were streaming down his face, more from the pain and disorientation than distress, or so Kieran hoped. He looked through the cabinet and desk for paper towels and a water bottle, pressing it against Dominick's temple.

The other man was left drooling over the trashcan, blinking and squeezing his eyes shut. His chest heaved with a retch.

Kieran rubbed wide circles on his back, biting his lip in worry.

The next retch still caught them both by suprise by how sudden and violent it was. Dominick's eyes were closed as he heaved, so Kieran held the trashcan under his chin, catching a small mouthful of water. The next belch brought up a bigger wave though, splashing against the paper, on the edge and Kieran's hand.

Proud for being used to more gruesome scenes than some puke on his hand, Kieran held his breath before wiping off his hand and then Dominick's chin. He took a fresh towel for the mess of tears and snot on his cheeks.

"W-wanna go home, Kier," Dominick moaned, wrapping both hands around himself with a shiver as if he was cold.

"I'll get you home, buddy, don't worry." Kieran stripped Dominick off the suit jacket. His eyes got more used to the dark by now, so it was easier to gather Dom's bag and other things, put his car keys into his pocket and open all the doors for them to walk through. He even called the elevator in advance.

"You know how risky it is to do such projects," Kieran said as he supported most of Dominick's weight—he was taller than him by a head—towards the elevators. "Stress, no sleep. You have to be more sparing with yourself."

"C-can't exactly finish things like that," Dominick said, shutting his eyes against the light in the brightly lit elevator. He sagged in Kieran's grip, pressing his forehead into the crook of his neck to block out the light.

"I'll force Gerlinde to make to free every half a month for camping with me," Kieran threatened, holding him tighter around the waist. It was a delicate balance since he wasn't sure if the pressure wouldn't set Dominick into vomiting.

Dominick's left hand was twitching at his side. Kieran was trying very hard not to stare at it.

They finally reached the underground floor. The ding of the opening door had Dominick spasming in Kieran's hold, leaning over to vomit a giant watery wave on the floor. There were pieces of rice floating in it.

Kieran grimaced, helping Dominick step over the mess. He propped him up against the wall, patting his cheek. "Hey, you with me? Dom?"

"Hmm?" Dominick squinted at him, having to catch himself on Kieran's arms to not fall.

"I'm gonna get the car. Can you stay here for a minute?"

Dominick gave an unsure nod, then leaned down with his chin on Kieran's shoulder with a sigh, that morphed into a burp. His eyes were closed, his left hand still twitching.

"Buddy..." Kieran protested gently, rubbing his back from behind.

"Thanksss..thanks for coming."

Kieran rolled his eyes, not even acknowledging the apology. That was a given. "You are alright. Just leave it to me."

[justmeandmysickies]

Hey, so, here's an idea:

So I get the feeling that Nick would be exactly the kind of idion to hit his head somehow--whether in a small car accident, tripping and falling somewhere, or getting into a bar fight or smth--and he just walks it off and Joe sees him later and is thinking like "my bf is being weird'' or whatever and then Nick just collapses or passes out or is all delirious.

Suddenly, Joe panics and gets nick to a hospital and then is pissed because the idiot had tried to brush off a freaking mild concussion and Nick wakes up all groggy (and maybe a lil bit emotional) and Joe just can't stay mad at the guy. Ending with a lil drizzle of fluff!!

BTW, this is my Sunday Sickness ask. {@bellysoupset}

Oh god, I'm so sorry it took me this long to get to the request but anyway, here it is!

Ouch

"Ouch" was all Nick could think as he found himself staring at the ceiling of the bar. The lights were dim but he still felt a stab of pain in his head as he looked at them. He briefly wondered how he'd ended up on the floor when the worried face of his colleague Tony appeared in his line of sight. Nick realized that his vision was blurry and he blinked a couple times to try and clear up the fog.

"Fuck, you good man?" Tony asked, biting his lip nervously. The accident had looked serious. He hadn't had the time to react as Nick slipped on the water on the floor and smacked his head on the counter as he went down. He'd looked unconscious but when Tony got to him Nick's eyes luckily fluttered open.

Nick tried to answer and tell him that yes, he was fine but all that came out of his mouth was some mumbled incoherent syllables. Now Tony looked even more freaked. "Shit, I think we gotta call an ambulance."

Nick tried to sit up at that but a firm hand pushed him back down. "No, stay down. Don't sit up just yet." Not that it mattered, he would've gone down anyways with how badly his head was swimming. Nonetheless he glanced to the side to see Frank, his boss, staring back at him, looking every bit as worried as Tony.

Nick dared another attempt at speaking. "I'm okay, seriously. Just a little bump." Damn his tongue felt heavy in his mouth but Frank seemed to have understood him well enough. "Just do me the favor and stay down for a bit longer and take a couple deep breaths. Assess yourself. You took a hard hit there."

Nick did as he was told and tried to feel every part of his body. Everything seemed to be working fine and luckily his vision was starting to come into focus again. If it weren't for the pain in his head. Nonetheless Nick sat up. Frank sighed but didn't try to push him down again. "Dude."

"I'm fine, really." Nick sat cross legged and put his head in his hands briefly, rubbing at his face and eyes to clear the rest of the fog. "But damn that hurt."

Frank was satisfied that Nick was at least alert and talking so he got to his feet. "Sure you don't need a hospital?"

"Nah, it's all good."

Frank reached out a hand, which Nick gratefully accepted, and pulled him to his feet. Nick stumbled a bit and Frank raised an eyebrow while Tony immediately jumped to catch him. "I said I'm fine!" Nick snapped at his colleague and Tony pulled back his hands. He obviously wanted to retort something but Frank shook his head at the younger man so Tony remained quiet.

"Sit down in the back, we'll just finish setting up here and then I'll give you a ride home." Frank bossed and Nick scoffed. "I told you, I'm fine. I can work."

"No, Nick. I'm taking you home. That was a nasty fall, just get some rest. Enjoy a free evening with your boyfriend or whatever, I don't care. But you're not working today."

Nick wanted to argue but honestly? He hadn't had a free evening in weeks and Joe would probably be delighted to hear that Nick was free to spend some proper quality time together. "Fine. But I live three blocks from here. I can walk, thank you very much."

His boss groaned at the stubbornness. "Ugh okay, walk then. But go home now, I don't need you here. And text me when you get there."

"Fine." Nick retorted as he went to retrieve his jacket.

"And don't even think about showing up here tomorrow!" His boss yelled after him as Nick left the bar.

Truth be told, he was a little annoyed with himself he didn't take Frank up on his offer. Nick didn't feel like anything was seriously wrong but still his head was pounding and every step felt like he weighed a thousand pounds.

So he made his way home slowly and carefully, feeling positively nauseous and absolutely exhausted by the time he got there. But a shower would fix all that, he was sure.

"So how come you're not working tonight?" Joe asked as he took off his shoes.

"Ah we're overstaffed right now and tonight will probably be slow so Frank didn't need me. In fact, I have the day off tomorrow as well." Nick lied. The shower hadn't really fixed anything. His head still felt like someone was drilling into it and he was feeling disoriented and sluggish. Still he was happy that Joe was here and his boyfriend didn't need to know what happened. He'd just worry and boss Nick around and the blonde really wasn't up for that. He'd probably be fine in a couple hours anyway.

He fell asleep as the pair was watching Criminal Minds, hopeful that a nap would help his head. He only woke up as Joe turned off the TV. "Tired?" his boyfriend asked, looking slightly disappointed. Nick sat up slowly, taking note of the way his vision swam. "Yeah a little, sorry."

Joe was a bit dumbfounded. As far as he was concerned Nick had been sleeping well and he wasn't usually the type to fall asleep watching TV. But he decided to give his boyfriend some leniency. It had been a tough couple of weeks (or months if Joe was being honest) for both of them and maybe Nick was struggling with it more than Joe had realized.

"Maybe we can take a walk? That might wake you up. This is the first night we have together in almost two weeks. I'd like to spend at least a little more time with you. You know, awake I mean." Joe looked at the floor. He felt like he was being demanding but he also felt like he had the right to be. And a walk was always a good opportunity to talk openly. He'd use the chance to ask Nick how he'd been adjusting.

Nick mentally kicked himself for falling asleep. "Of course baby, a walk sounds great."

No, a walk sounded absolutely awful. The dizziness he'd felt earlier came back with a vengeance as he got up and he had to steady himself on the arm of the sofa as his knees threatened to give out. He closed his eyes against the pain in his head and took a deep breath. Joe, who had already been putting on his shoes, looked up at Nick and frowned. "You alright?"

Nick straightened up with a practiced smile. "Yeah just got up too fast, no big deal." He went to put on his shoes as well, every small movement sending shooting pain through his head. But he was determined to hang in there.

The couple had been walking for about ten minutes when things went sideways. In Nick's case quite literally. Joe had been doing most of the talking as Nick really wasn't feeling up to it - which only heightened Joe's anxiety that something was wrong with Nick. The guy usually had energy for days and now he was falling asleep randomly and worst of all, he was quiet. Nick, the man who basically never shut up, was quiet.

Joe had just asked him a question. Nick was aware of that. He was however also painfully aware of the fact that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. The headache was getting unbearable and his body was feeling heavy. Too heavy to keep moving. He planted his hands on his knees, trying to get himself in check. But the movement caused a heavy wave of dizziness and his knees starting shaking, threatening to give out for real this time. He went down as one of his knees buckled, barely managing to catch himself on his hands before he'd faceplant the concrete. He heard Joe say his name and he felt his boyfriend's hand on his shoulder but everything sounded so muffled and far away. His vision blurred over as the world tilted to the side and then everything went black.

Nick woke up to bright lights on a shiny white ceiling. "Hey." Joe's voice was uncharacteristically soft and Nick looked to his side. His boyfriend was sat beside him in a chair and Nick noticed that Joe was holding his hand. "What happened?" His voice sounded rough but he noticed with relief that his tongue didn't feel as heavy anymore.

Joe sighed deeply and let go of Nick's hand to rub his face. "You're an idiot, that's what happened." Nick blinked at him in confusion.

"You have a fucking concussion Nick and you know what's weird about that? When you passed out earlier I caught you. You didn't hit your head because I made sure you didn't. So you mind telling me the actual reason Frank sent you home today?"

Nick averted his eyes. He felt so stupid. So he told Joe the full story and his boyfriend was silent for a long while. "I really didn't think it was that bad Joe, I swear."

"You smack your head full force on a fucking counter and think it's not that bad? You must have been feeling awful, right? You were acting weird the whole time."

"Yeah I mean I wasn't feeling well but still. I just didn't think-"

"No, you weren't thinking at all!" Joe snapped in exasperation. Nick looked away in shame and Joe bit his lip. He wasn't trying to kick a man who was already down but he couldn't help that he was upset. How could Nick be so careless? Joe did however take a deep breath before he spoke again, more calmly this time.

"You scared the hell out of me Nick. You need to tell me things like these so that I don't have to tell the paramedics that I have no idea what's wrong with my boyfriend. You can't worry me like that." He took Nick's hand in comfort. The touch was soft and careful, a small gesture that meant so much to the both of them.

"I know baby, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again, I promise."

"I hope so. Now get some rest, they'll keep you overnight for monitoring. Try to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up." And with that Joe got up to get in bed with Nick, wrapping a comforting arm around his boyfriend and Nick drifted off to sleep in Joe's embrace.

[sickly-qt]

Remy's Turn

Wow, look at that. It seems Remy has caught the bug... Different caretaker this time around. This isn't my best work and I didn't proofread this but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless.

~~

“Are you okay?” Finn asked, standing in the doorway of Remy’s office, his hands in his pockets.

Remy lifted his head from where it was laying on his desk. 

“No. What’s up?” He leaned back in his chair.

“The quarterly meeting is in a couple minutes.” Finn took his hand out of his pocket and gestured toward the conference room. “Uh, sorry. Did you say no, you weren’t okay?”

Remy pushed himself up from his desk, smoothing out his shirt and taking a breath as he tried to will his nausea to subside long enough to make it through this meeting. 

“Yeah, I feel awful. I caught whatever hell virus has been taking out everyone in my house one by one.” Remy took another breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Is everything okay with you by the way? You weren’t in on Tuesday.”

Finn shifted on his feet and put his hands back in his pockets, “Oh yeah, uh, Drew was in the hospital Monday night… We didn't get home until late and I wanted to make sure she was alright so I stayed home Tuesday. I know the timing wasn’t convenient with the quarterly stuff coming up but I just-”

“Don’t worry about it. I have 2 kids, I know family comes first. Drew’s okay though?”

“Yeah, Drew’s fine.” Finn ran his hand through his hair, “Everything’s okay.”

“That’s good, now let’s get this meeting out of the way so I can go home.”

Finn kept an eye on Remy as he talked through his presentation, swallowing hard at the end of his sentences. He put up a good front, Finn probably wouldn’t have even noticed the signs that he was sick if he hadn’t spoken to him before the meeting.

By the time Remy was finished with his part of the presentation, he felt horrible. His stomach was in knots and he was freezing, but there was sweat dripping down his back. Finn gave him a look when he sat back down and Remy ignored it, sitting back in his chair and taking a deep breath. The hard part was over, now he just had to sit and make it through the rest of the meeting. 

Finn was up, giving his presentation with his team when he noticed Remy quietly get up and leave the conference room. 

There was only about 15 minutes left in the meeting and no one else seemed to notice him leave with the back of his hand pressed to his mouth. 

By the end of the meeting Remy hadn’t returned, leaving a different partner to wrap up. When Finn finally left the conference room he swung by Remy’s office to find it empty. Next he went into the bathroom that was between the conference room and Remy’s office thinking that was the next most likely place to find him. 

“Remy? Are you in here?” He called quietly. He walked further into the bathroom and noticed that one out of the two stalls were closed. Finn grimaced as he heard a grating retch and the unmistakable sound of vomit splattering into the toilet. He sighed and knocked lightly on the stall door.

“You okay?” He waited a beat, and when he got no response other than a couple more productive heaves and some rough coughs he continued. “Can I get you anything? Water? Should I call Mila?”

There was still no response, but then the toilet flushed and the stall opened. Remy was pale and clammy and his dress shirt was sticking to him. 

“I’m alright.” He said unconvincingly, walking over to the sink and rinsing his mouth out before splashing water on his face.

“No offense or anything, but you look like you can barely stay on two feet.”

“Yeah, I have to go home.” Remy mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning heavily on the bathroom sink.

“Do you want me to call Mila to come get you? I can’t in good conscience let you drive home like this…”

Remy shook his head, “She’s still coming back from this… thing.” He gestured toward his stomach and then muffled a burp into his fist. “She probably went back to bed after taking Lee to school.”

“Then I’ll drive you home, you can’t drive yourself and you sure as hell can���t stay here.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking, I’m offering… well more like telling.”

Remy sighed, but eventually agreed to let Finn take him home. He returned briefly to his office to collect his things and shut everything down before telling his secretary to cancel everything for the rest of the day, and tomorrow as well. 

Finn was waiting for him down in the lobby, by the time Remy stepped out of the elevator his nausea was back in full force. Expelling a significant amount of his stomach contents, not offering him long lasting relief. 

“You’re not looking too hot.” Finn said as they walked out of the building. 

“Can we please not talk about it?”

They walked to Finn’s car in silence, stopping once on the way for Remy to projectile vomit into the gutter. 

“Alright, get it all out before you get into my car.” Finn said, patting Remy gently on the back and smiling awkwardly at the passerby. 

“I feel like now’s a great time to mention that I get wildly motion sick.” Remy said hoarsely. 

“Yeah, great.” 

Remy walked into his house and kicked off his shoes at the front door, shedding his tie and unbuttoning his shirt on his way upstairs. Mila was exactly where he thought she would be, tucked in bed, sleeping off the remains of her bug. He stripped his dress shirt and pants, changing into a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before collapsing into bed next to Mila.

“Mm, Remy? What are you doing home?” She said sleepily, rolling over to face him.

“Sick,” He mumbled. “I puked at work, Finn brought me home.

“I’m sorry, Love. Do you need anything?”

“Sleep.”

Right when Remy closed his eyes, his phone started ringing. He grabbed it off the table and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello? Remington Paxton.” 

“Hi, Mr. Paxton. This is the school nurse. Leah appears to have come down with the bug going around, she got sick after lunch. Could you come pick her up?”

His eyes opened and he sat up, “Uh, yeah. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and fell back into his pillows, sighing heavily and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, “Fuck.”

“Everything okay?” Mila asked, lifting her head.

“I’m going to need to borrow your car.”

[outootome]

waking up from delusional dream

[hae-meto]

I’m back!! (After dealing with my broken ipad and art block ect ect 🫠)

Did some commission test runs recently so I thought I should post them here too!

I’m trying to do more doodles so hopefully I’ll post more from now on!

[secretobsessionstuff]

The Wedding Fic ❤️

Feat. sick Madix.

I tried my best to strike a balance between the angsty sickfic moments and the cute wedding moments. I hope everyone loves it! I feel a funny sense of pride for my made-up characters. Anyway, I'll always love this community! Thank you for caring about my imaginary friends :)

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

“Guess what?” 

“What?” 

“I’m getting married today.” 

Madix chuckled lowly in his throat as he smoothed out the shoulders on Dakota’s navy-blue suit. He straightened his best friend’s collar, running his hands down the silken fabric so that the lapels lay flat against his chest. “Shoot, I have plans today. I can’t make it.” 

“The betrayal!” Dakota dramatically swooned and grabbed his chest. Their hands touched, making them both sober up. Dakota held Madix’s hand firmly. He sniffled—the first signs of tears of the day. “Thank you, Mads. Everything looks great.” 

“Oh, you’re not ready yet,” Madix said, rummaging in the suitcase he had packed for the day. 

The wedding hall had private rooms for the couple to get ready separately. Blair was no doubt being pampered and kissed in the room next door. He could hear soft laughter coming through the wall. It was only 9am and already the air was alive with excitement. It was going to be a dizzying day full of movement. Madix tried to steady his shaking hands as he pinned a flower boutonnière onto Dakota’s breast. In fashion with a December wedding, the flowers were white as snow with red berries as the accent. Pine green leaves added a touch of nature as well. 

“Are you nervous?” Madix asked, feeling Dakota’s chest rise and fall with each breath. 

“No,” Dakota said simply. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Nothing has ever felt more right.” 

“Gosh, Kota, we’re not supposed to cry yet.” Madix wiped his eyes. He also wiped his palms on his pants. He wore a grey suit, similar to Dakota’s blue one, with less adornments. Sweat seemed to gather in every crevice of the outfit. 

Dakota watched his friend anxiously scan the room. Madix finally took a good deep breath when he put the rings in his pocket. Next, he grabbed the cufflinks off the dresser. “You nervous?” 

Madix sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Maybe a bit stressed. I want everything to go well for you.” Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He didn’t expect to have so many nerves on a day that wasn’t even his own. He regretted eating such a large breakfast at the hotel. An odd ache settled in the pit of his belly that he knew wouldn’t go away until Dakota and Blair kissed. 

When Madix finished attaching the cufflinks, Dakota grabbed his hands once more, momentarily taken aback by their clamminess. “Relax, Maddy. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I appreciate all that you’ve done up to this point. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Madix tried to shake off the growing sense of nausea. “Let’s make you a married man.” 

…

Large windows covered the entire back wall of the wedding hall. Madix thanked mother nature for providing the fluffiest snowfall. There were no harsh winter winds or grey skies—only sunshine that danced between soft snowflakes. 

He stood at the end of the aisle with Dakota, Riley, and Dakota’s sister Logan. Logan wore a feminine grey suit that matched the rest of the groomsmen. In the first row of seats, Dakota’s father couldn’t take his eyes off his son. The two generations tapped on their legs in anticipation. Dakota’s smile grew bigger and bigger as his soon-to-be bride was about to walk down the aisle. 

The music changed, and then Blair emerged wearing winter itself.

Arm in arm with her father, Blair made the fateful walk towards Dakota. Her long white dress trailed behind her, tracking red flower petals that the young flower girl had dropped. Intricate lace covered her arms in a flurry of patterns. The bouquet of reds, greens, and white matched Dakota’s boutonnière. And her smile! Her smile matched Dakota’s as well. It was as if their joy drew them together. Madix smirked as Dakota bounced on his feet. 

Her platinum blond hair fell over her shoulders in a snowfall. She radiated warmth despite the arctic aesthetic. Her skin held a candle-like glow. Her eyes shone as if bouncing back the light from the flickering fireplace.

And then the handkerchief came out. Dakota dabbed his eyes lightly at first. Finally, when she stood next to him, he couldn’t help the flood of tears. A queen stood before him. His queen. 

Blair took his hands. “Hi baby,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. 

Dakota let out a shaky laugh. “Hi, oh my god, Bee. You look—you look beautiful.” He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find the words. His eyes remained glassy for the rest of the ceremony, filled with tears of joy. He imagined that he was looking through a snow globe, seeing only one perfect dream for the rest of his life. 

As ceremonies go, this one was short and to the point. 

Neither Dakota nor Blair was terribly religious, but a bit of Blair’s mother managed to squeeze into the officiant’s speech. Yes, it spoke of everlasting love, faithfulness, and the love of God. But it also spoke of evergreen trees, with their unwavering steadiness in the face of harsh winds. It spoke of growth and new beginnings, with the officiant playing off the chilly weather outside to mark a contrast between winter and spring. Dakota and Blair’s life as a married couple would move through the seasons, with all its ups and downs. Whether sun or rain, they would have each other to find shelter and peace in. 

Madix’s vision grew blurry, but not because of tears. He swayed on his feet, feeling a wave of vertigo wash over him. His heart thudded loud in his chest. Trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral, he bit the side of his cheek to keep the nausea from showing on his face. 

For possibly the tenth time, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. At the same time, he shivered as if there were no window blocking out the winter weather. He knew that being hot and cold at once wasn’t a good sign. Nothing happening in his body was a good sign—not the churning in his belly, nor the aches in his muscles. What started out as nerves seemed to be revealing itself as something more. Madix swallowed thickly, forcing down a nauseous burp. 

The ceremony only had a few more beats to hit. He could make it. He would not pass out, even though he wanted so badly to lean back against Riley who stood behind him. It looked like he’d be carrying a secret with him that day—a heavy secret that sat like grease in his tummy. 

Madix forced himself to pay attention when Dakota and Blair said their vows. 

Dakota went first. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it with steady hands. He smiled at Blair, getting lost in her soft gaze until he realized that he needed to speak the words out loud. 

“Blair, Bee. I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t think of a better way to start this because writing is not my strong suit.” Dakota let out a shaky laugh, finding the right rhythm for his speech. He held the paper, though never looked down at the words. “I wish you could see through my eyes so that you’d understand that you are my entire world. I look at you when I make a joke to see if it made you laugh. I look at you when I’m scared and overwhelmed because you make me feel grounded. I look at you and I see my future. In your eyes, I see comfort and unconditional love. You put up with all my ramblings and my childish sense of humour. You help slow the world down when my brain is going too fast. I get to appreciate your beauty, your confidence, and your kindness in real time. I hope our lives together move slow so that I can spend an eternity loving you the way you deserve.” 

Tears like icicles fell onto Blair’s rosy cheeks. She mumbled a quick ‘I love you’ under her breath before taking out her own cue cards. 

“Dakota,” she began, wiping her eyes with a tissue, “you’re my favourite person to be around because I can be myself in its entirety. With you I can be vulnerable, and messy, and imperfect. It’s a gift to be able to hold someone who knows and loves every bit of your soul. You’ve always encouraged me to chase my dreams, and this is me chasing my forever dream. Our careers may change, our health may waver, but my heart will never change. It will forever be yours. I vow to always laugh at your jokes, to stand by you in times of sorrow, and to lift you up just as you have done for me. Today I get to marry my favourite person, and I can’t wait another second.”

After a few more words from the officiant, Madix was finally admitting to himself that his unease would not go away even when his best friend was well and truly married. He felt all the joy and love in his heart after hearing their vows, but that did not stop him from feeling other, less pleasant sensations, elsewhere in his body. 

Dakota and Blair were oblivious to anything that wasn’t each other—as they should be! They allowed themselves to get lost in the eyes of their partner. They held hands, wearing their giddy smiles while they exchanged ‘I do’s’. 

With snow falling in the background and candles aglow around them, Dakota and Blair shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

…

Cocktail hour and photo ops was the worst part of the day for Madix. He held back while his best friends ventured outside to take pictures in the snow. Eventually he would need to join the wedding party in the cold for group pictures, but he took a second to himself to hide in the bathroom. He wandered upstairs where the private bathroom would give him the necessary privacy to wallow in his misery. 

He was going to ruin the goddamn pictures with his forced smile and baggy eyes. His face was the colour of January slush. The lights in the bathroom buzzed in his brain. He groaned and leaned against the sink as a burp rumbled up his chest. His stomach was a blizzard of nausea, swirling with half-digested food. 

This was the beginning of something bad. He was sick and he knew it. He prayed that he could hide it until the end of the night. Out of all the days in the year, this one was certainly the worst one to make a big deal about his own feelings. Dakota and Blair didn’t deserve this on their wedding day. 

Madix debated telling Riley that he was sick, but he decided against it for many reasons. Besides the obvious, Riley would likely insist that Madix be honest with Dakota and Blair. They’re your friends. They will understand. Well, Madix didn’t want them to understand; he wanted them to be none the wiser and go about their special day without worry. 

Madix stayed in the bathroom, forcing down burps, until he had to take pictures. He avoided hugs and handshakes as much as he could. He also avoided the appetizers and drinks. His breakfast seemed to be cooperative about staying down, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case if he tried to eat anything else. Though the vertigo was ever-present, he never dared touching the food. 

The staff members turned the ceremony hall into the dinner hall, swapping out the rows of chairs with circular tables. Deep reds and forests greens gave the room a mature and relaxed vibe. As the day progressed, the moon replaced the sun in the large windows.

Dakota and Blair had their first dance, swaying slowly like trees blowing in the wind. Blair’s dress created a halo around their feet as they spun on the dance floor. 

Madix watched until he couldn’t. He missed seeing Blair dance with her father and then missed Blair dancing with Dakota’s dad. He wanted to stay for it all, but the nausea was too great. His head swam and his tummy gurgled. Madix made some excuse to Riley and quickly fled the hall. 

His stomach was done being kind.

He jogged to the private bathroom in the groom’s room, thankful that he had access to these parts of the building. 

Madix moaned as he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet. He held his aching belly as it whined. A gurgling burp escaped past his lips, dripping saliva into the bowl. 

After a long time of gagging and spitting, he suddenly felt his stomach lurch. His shoulders rolled forward with a deep retch that came from the pit of his guts. Thick vomit splattered into the toilet. His belly gave another squeeze. He moaned as more sick gushed from his mouth. 

Ten minutes later, his hands were shaking and his nose burned with acid. He cleaned himself up, splashed water on his face, and returned to the party. 

Dinner was served to every table by this point. He had missed a lot. He let out a deep exhale and shook out his wrists to release the build-up of tension in his bones. 

At the head table, Dakota and Blair chatted with relatives who came to say hi. Madix tried to inconspicuously take his spot next to Dakota without prompting anyone to notice his absence. 

“Madix, where’d you go?” Dakota said loudly, turning to his friend. “Riley got you a plate of food.” He swung his arm over the back of his chair. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” 

“You’re very popular today, Kota,” Madix said, trying to sound light. “I wanted to give you space to talk to family.” 

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I don’t know who half these people are.” Dakota looked down at the untouched food. He slid the plate closer to his friend. “Eat. You look pale.” Dakota got distracted by a relative coming up to say kind words, but he eventually turned his attention back to Madix who was only stabbing at the grilled chicken with his fork. He looked contemplative for a moment before saying, “Are you alright? You seem off.” 

Madix shrugged. “I’m good. There’s just lots going on. Lots of talking and music.” 

“You got a headache? Blair has ibuprofen.” Before he could say anything, Dakota spun around to ask Blair for meds. 

Blair reached across her new husband to hand Madix two pills. “Hope these help, Mads, because we have a good playlist lined up for tonight.” She held onto his hand for longer than necessary, noticing his flushed cheeks. “You can step outside if it’s too hot in here.” 

“I might do that actually.” 

“But be back in time for speeches!” Blair said excitedly. 

Fuck. His speech…

Madix pretended to go outside, but he just snuck back to the bathroom, hoping he could throw up one more time before he had to talk to a room full of strangers. His stomach made all sorts of noises. He hung his head over the toilet, letting stringy saliva fall into the water. He belched and hiccupped but nothing more. It caused a great sense of dread to build in his body, knowing he was at the mercy of an unpredictable stomach bug. 

Fuck it, he said, preparing to get his speech over and done with. After that, there’d be just dancing that he didn’t mind missing. 

Blair’s sister got up to the podium first, talking about the role model that Blair was. Being a teenager, she made the room laugh with her slang and fresh jokes.

His own speech was printed on cue cards that surely would be drenched in sweat inside his pocket. He pulled out the damp paper, wondering if steam was curling off his head. 

Madix plastered on a smile and stepped up to the podium. Dakota and Blair smiled at him expectantly with their arms wrapped around each other. 

He cleared his throat, remembering the taste of vomit as it clung to his oesophagus. “Dakota…you’ve been my best friend since high school…and now you’ve given me a new person to laugh with, care for, and make memories with. I love Blair as much as I love you, perhaps a little more because” —Madix paused, feeling a burp rising to his mouth. He pressed a fist to his lips, suppressing the belch before it could escape— “because she has never called me in the middle of the night asking for an emergency condom. She has never wrapped my entire desk, including my pencils, in aluminum foil…” 

Madix was sure he had prepared a third example of the ridiculous things that Dakota had done to him over the years, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He UMMed and left awkward silences in this speech until he decided to skip over it. 

This was not going well. His voice was robotic, and his posture was crap as he tried to ease the ache in his belly by leaning forward. He couldn’t rub his stomach behind the podium because Dakota and Blair sat nearly in line with where he stood. 

Madix skipped over much of his speech. He would have to give Dakota the script for it some other time because they really did have great memories, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand there for much longer. He wondered if the microphone was picking up the sick gurgles that came from his stomach. God, he hoped not. It was making so much noise, and of course now he felt like he could throw up. Now, with everyone staring at him—with Dakota and Blair waiting for him to finish his speech—now, his belly was ready to give up. 

His jaw was growing heavier, and he had to swallow an absurd amount of saliva. He hiccupped and blushed, realizing that people must think he was drunk. Finish the fucking speech. He raised his glass, “To Dakota and Blair, I hope you annoy each other now, instead of the rest of us. To Blair, I hope you know that you can come to me just as you would your best friend, because that’s what I’ll be for you as long as you love Dakota.” 

Madix forced himself to drink the champaign. The bubbles angered his belly enough to make him gag so he quickly covered his mouth and left the podium. 

He couldn’t do all that without giving his friends hugs, so he walked into Dakota’s open arms. Dakota mumbled something vaguely funny in his ear then kissed him on the cheek. 

He hugged Blair next. She too whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Madix. I love you.” 

“I love you, Bee.” 

She broke away from the hug but held onto his arm, watching his face closely. Madix squirmed under her gaze, imagining that his expression gave away his secret. Maybe it did. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom. Luckily Blair’s parents were meant to give the last speech, so she didn’t say anything to him as he left. 

Madix’s stomach gurgled ominously. It churned beneath his hand as he half-ran to the same bathroom that he’d been using all day. His knees, now bruised from before, felt the pain of landing on the cold tile once more. 

With his hands gripped tightly to the toilet, he let out the sick belch that he’d been holding for the entire speech. It burst from his mouth, bringing with it a flood of acid that burned the back of his throat. 

The rippling water made him dizzy and lightheaded. His poor tummy turned itself inside out. 

A torrent of sick rushed past his lips. He felt the chunks of food on his tongue, making him gag even more. Another heave, and he filled the bowl with more brown sludge. 

This was the moment that Blair appeared in the open doorway. As soon as the speeches were done, she snuck away to check on Madix. It wasn’t difficult to find him, given the harsh sounds of vomiting. 

The door to the groom’s room was closed, but Madix had not shut the bathroom door, thinking that no one would come into the adjoining room. She closed the door behind her and pouted at the sick boy on the floor. 

“Oh, Madix, hon,” she cooed, stepping into the large bathroom. She crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back. He shuddered at her touch. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

He couldn’t say a word because his belly spasmed again. This time, tears of exertion and sadness leaked from his eyes. She touched him so gently that he couldn’t help but mumble her name. He hadn’t realized that someone else’s presence would feel so good. “Blair…Ugh, I’m so sorry.” 

She shushed him. “No, don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She brushed his damp hair back from his face. “Oh, you’re really sick, aren’t you?” 

He nodded and leaned back against the wall. “Please don’t tell Dakota. It’s just a stomach bug.” 

Blair made a tsking noise at the foolish boy. “Honey, look at you. You’re delirious if you think I’m going to let you go on like this.” She placed her palm on his forehead. “And you’re burning up. Dakota will want to bring you back to the hotel.” 

Madix wanted to cry more, but he had no more fluid left in his body. 

“Don’t move.” Blair stood up and dusted off her dress. “We’re going to help you, you stubborn man.” 

Blair found her husband chatting with his father at one of the empty tables. Most everyone was dancing. Dakota swayed to the music, listening to his father tell a story. 

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt. Babe, can I talk to you, please?” 

Dakota followed Blair into the hallway where it was quiet. He held her hand and giggled as if they were going somewhere to make out.  He sobered up when he saw her face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Your best man is an idiot.” 

“Only occasionally. What did he do?” 

Blair pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s really sick. He didn’t want to tell you, so he’s hiding in the bathroom.” 

A confused frown brought Dakota’s brows together. His expression softened as he begun to think back. “Oh gosh, he is an idiot.”

“Would you talk some sense into him?” It was not a question. “I’ll talk to Riley and tell him what’s happening.” 

… 

Madix had resigned to sleeping on the floor, which is how Dakota found him. He pouted at the sight of his ashen complexion. 

“Mads, what the heck is this? Did you get drunk without me?” Dakota said, trying to add humour into his voice. With a groan, he lowered himself to the floor. He touched Madix’s shoulder. “Hey, you with me, buddy?” 

In a small voice, Madix mumbled, “Please don’t be mad.” 

Dakota shook his head in disbelief. “You’re such a fool. How could I be mad?” He rubbed his hand over Madix’s back as he rambled. “I suppose I could be upset that you spent the whole day lying to me. I could be upset that you didn’t let me help you before it got this bad.” Dakota just sighed. “Oh well, whatchu gonna do?” 

They sat in silence for a moment while Dakota loosened the tie around Madix’s neck. He puttered around the bathroom, flushing the toilet and wetting a cloth to wipe Madix’s face. He then knelt in front of him. “Time to sit up, Maddy.” 

Madix did as he was told, feeling his face unpeel from the floor. He groaned from the effort it took to move. His eyes were half shut when he finally looked at Dakota. “Did you have a good day at least?” 

“Yes, I did. I married my best friend.”

“We got married?” Madix slurred, letting a playful smile tug at his lips. 

Dakota chuckled. “You’ve been demoted, buddy…Nah, I’m just kidding, you’ll always be my best friend.” With gentle movements, Dakota washed the sick and sweat off Madix’s face. “God, that’s some fever. Here, let me take off your jacket.” 

They started the day with Madix dressing the groom and ended it with Dakota helping his best man out of his fever-soaked clothes.

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

Feveruary Day 27

This one was actually so much fun to write :)

------

“You sure you want to do this, babe?”

“For the last time, yes. My brain needs a break, I can’t function right now.”

Colin smiles at him, but the small crease between his eyes doesn’t disappear. He leans down to continue bundling clothes into his bag, a sharp contrast to Rowyn’s meticulously folded clothes already packed.

“You don’t just want to hang out here, though?”

“No. I want to leave, forget about things for a couple days.”

- - -

They’re on the road, Colin driving, heading towards the small cabin they booked for the weekend. With the change in sessions at the pool, Colin was granted the rare chance to have a couple consecutive days off, and Rowyn decided to do the same.

As they drive forward, he makes a real effort to forget all the readings, papers, and stress of his coursework behind him, feeling unusually content.

He lets a small smile break out across his face, and he digs through the bag sitting at his feet, pulling out an animal fact book that he hadn’t had a chance to read yet.

Reading some of the facts out loud, he’s rewarded by Colin’s grin, his teasing commentary, and his ridiculous follow up questions.

“Okay, in a fight between a lion and a tiger, who would win?”

“You know they don’t live on the same continents right? That would never happen,” Rowyn answers through a laugh, and Colin shrugs.

The questions get more absurd, until Rowyn’s gasping through his laughs, leaning forward as more giggles fall from his mouth. He glances at Colin, his eyes sparkling playfully and an easy grin filling his face.

A gentle quiet settles over them, and Rowyn tucks his book away, looking contently at the horizon and Colin turns up the music, a song Rowyn vaguely recognizes filling the car. Colin sings along for the first few songs, his rich voice blending with the singer’s, and Rowyn turns to watch him, smiling at his easy, relaxed posture.

The change is gradual, so Rowyn doesn’t notice immediately, but after a while, he realizes that Colin’s gone silent, and has turned down the music until it’s hardly audible. A glance in his direction shows that his smile has similarly diminished, a rather tight expression taking its place.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks curiously, wondering what caused the change.

“Mm-hm. I think we’ll need to stop for a break soon though.”

Rowyn frowns, glancing around, both inside the car and out. There’s gas in the tank, their water bottles are full, and he knows they have plenty of snacks. There’s nothing on the road or in their surroundings that would require them to stop. Which leaves Colin.

“Babe? We’ve only been driving for a couple hours, what’s going on?” concern filling his voice as he looks to Colin for answers.

“I’m fine, just getting a headache. I’d like to take a break, maybe get something better to drink.”

“Okay, sure,” Rowyn agrees, relaxing slightly against the seat from where he’d sat up in worry, but he keeps his eyes fixed on Colin’s posture now. After a minute, he turns off the music, the only sound coming from the car now.

Colin, usually a relaxed driver, the kind who could comfortably have just one hand on the wheel, now grips the wheel with two hands, knuckles white. Rowyn frowns, watching him take a small sip from his water bottle before returning his hand to the wheel.

When they come to a stop outside a small road-side market, Colin slouches in his seat, hands coming up to rub harshly at his face. When he lifts his head back up, he winces at the sunlight streaming through the windshield, and Rowyn frowns harder.

“Is this a migraine?” he asks quietly, worry colouring his words.

“Not yet,” Colin answers, voice tight.

“You think it’ll become one?”

“Maybe,” he responds unhelpfully, just leaning his head back against the seat, and pressing his fingers into his forehead again.

“You brought meds, right?”

“Yeah, they’re in the back somewhere.”

“What about your nausea meds for the car?”

“I think there should be some there,” he says, gesturing for the glovebox. Rowyn leans forward, rummaging through the mess of napkins and papers until he finds the bag of carsickness supplies.

He tucks this knowledge away for later, and turns back to Colin.

“Drink some more water,” he encourages, nudging his hand with his water bottle, and he takes it reluctantly.

“I’m going to go get a couple things, then we’ll figure out what to do, okay?” Colin nods, leaning forward again, and Rowyn sighs in concern, stepping out into the biting February air, and tucks his hands in his pockets as he hurries inside the market.

When he returns to the car with his small bag of items, Colin is slumped back in his seat, grimacing and looking sort of drowsy.

“Hey,” he greets as he opens the passenger door, setting the bag down gently, and leaning in to put a drink in the cupholder, before walking around the front of the blue car, and opening Colin’s door, leaning down to look at him more closely.

Colin shrinks away from the open door, the cold air causing goosebumps along his arms. Rowyn runs a hand through his red locks, scratching gently at his scalp, and he leans into the touch.

“Okay, what do you want to do?” he asks softly, knowing they can’t really stay on the side of the road forever, “Do you want to take some meds and try and sleep this off while I drive? Or do you want to hang out here a little longer, see if you can keep going?”

He runs a hand down his face, kneading his forehead again, before he turns to press himself against Rowyn, face hiding in his chest.

He groans, then says, “You drive. Don’t want a migraine.”

Rowyn grimaces at the thought, knowing that i migraine on the road is its own special form of torture, but that the alternative could mean a run-in with Colin’s impressive carsickness.

He kisses the crown of Colin’s head, who whines when he starts to pull away.

“It’s okay babe, just getting a couple things,” he explains, returning to the passenger side and moving things off the seat. The bag moves to the backseat, and he pulls the meds out of the glovebox.

He tries to remember how they packed the trunk, craning his head towards the back to try and see if there’s anything he could grab easily that would help. Sighing when he realizes there probably isn’t, he goes back to collect Colin, leading him to the other side and then taking his place in the driver’s seat.

He frowns nervously. Driving really isn’t something he enjoys, but Colin should probably be lying down, ideally in a bed, not a carseat, and the only way to do that right now, is to reach their destination.

Colin shivers, turning on the seat heater, and leans back, biting his lip and arms tense.

“Here,” Rowyn passes him one of his anti car sickness meds and the smoothie he bought inside, hoping the coolness and the refreshingness of the drink will help revive his boyfriend somewhat. Considering he drinks it slowly, it must help, at least a little.

“You can drive now,” Colin tells him softly, looking warily out the window.

“Alright. Try to sleep, okay? See if that helps.” And it should give those meds time to kick in, he thinks to himself, relieved when Colin closes his eyes and slowly starts to drift off.

He sleeps for over an hour, before Rowyn notices him shifting again, and he glances over quickly, just enough to see Colin blinking slowly, before he returns his eyes to the road.

“Hey, how are you doing?” he asks softly.

---

Colin has to assume he somehow managed to fall asleep, because he wakes up to the rumbling engine of his car, and the swirling. The swirling of the car, the scenery, and most importantly, his stomach.

As he blinks awake, trying to situate himself he groans under his breath, and hears Rowyn ask him something.

He shakes his head, hoping to clear the fuzziness from his vision, but instead it sets the world spinning all over again. He presses his head against the sturdy seat behind him, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing carefully.

He can feel every movement of his beloved car as it drives along, and he opens his eyes, fixing them on the horizon.

“Hey, Colin, what’s going on?” Rowyn’s voice finally registers for him.

“Sick,” he mumbles around tingling lips, mouth filling with saliva.

“Pull over,” he mutters, clumsily trying to unbuckle himself and trying to swallow back the bitter saliva coating his tongue. The car screeches to a halt on the shoulder of the road, and his stomach jumps into his throat, pushing up a meager amount of puke that spills from his mouth, splashing on his hand, and his pants.

He vaguely hears Rowyn say something in his sarcastically-concerned tone, but he barely manages to swallow back a bigger wave of vomit until he’s able to actually click the buckle undone.

Just as he’s losing the fight against his stomach, the door swings open, and Rowyn’s arm wraps around him, helping him lean forward against another wave of dizziness as he opens his mouth for another effortless splatter of vomit, much more substantial than the first.

“Ro,” he groans as the world spins around him, leaning into his solid warmth and trying to remember where there’s vomit on him so he doesn’t make a bigger mess.

He shivers in the cold air, and wraps his arms around himself.

“I don’t feel good.” He thinks it’s probably obvious, but he can’t think of anything else; just the way his stomach is still flipping as if it wants to expel more, but he still feels really unsteady.

“Yeah, I know.”

But something doesn’t feel right. He racks his brain, trying to figure out what feels wrong. Besides the obvious, because that’s not what’s bugging him.

Rowyn figures it out first.

Colin’s sitting there, so dazed and basically half-conscious, little tears clinging to his lashes. Rowyn’s hand comes up to his head, running through his hair again, before settling on his neck.

Colin feels the way Rowyn stiffens, and he says, “Babe, you’ve got a fever.”

Oh. Oh, that’s what was bugging him, he wasn’t carsick. It came on too fast after he woke up, even for him, and it hasn’t calmed down at all since they’ve stopped moving.

“Great. So I’m actually sick.”

“Looks like it.”

Colin groans, drooping further into Rowyn’s hold, until his hands on his shoulders push him back into the car. He slumps back into the seat, and his hands come up to rub at his face, before he realizes there’s puke all over his hand.

And better yet, it’s not just puke, but semi-frozen congealed puke thanks to the freezing cold February weather. He drops that hand back into his lap, stifling a gag against his other hand at the thought.

“Deep breaths,” pushes Rowyn, but that just makes him breathe in vomit-smelling air, and he chokes back a gag, sticking his head back out of the car as his stomach squeezes again, and he heaves. Rowyn jumps back from the growing puddle of vomit with a small yelp, but he hurries back to Colin’s side, arms wrapped around him to keep him inside the car, rather than on the ground.

When his heaves stop being productive, Rowyn rubs his back, whispering in his ear until he calms down enough to catch his breath.

Back in the car, back on the road, Colin sips slowly from his water bottle, hoping his stomach will accept it, at least until he can throw up in a bathroom, not on the side of the road.

His hand wraps around his middle, sore from the act of vomiting, hand still a little red from where Rowyn wiped it clean.

“Did you know rodents can’t vomit?” Rowyn suddenly asks, glancing at Colin, small smile evident on his face.

“No, I didn’t, but dude, really? Now?”

“Did you really just call me ‘dude’, babe?”

Colin stretches out a mostly limp arm to weakly smack Rowyn on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re being mean to me right now,” he teases, tired, but not too tired to play up the dramatics a little.

Rowyn rolls his eyes, “Please, after that display?”

Colin huffs a small laugh, eyes closing tiredly, before he forces them open.

“You can sleep, you know. We’re only like half an hour away now.”

“Noooo, I don’t wanna miss everything.”

“Colin, you literally just threw up everything in your stomach-”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans.

“-You’re allowed to sleep.”

Colin sighs, the exhaustion weighing him down just enough that he can’t be bothered to argue with Rowyn anymore.

“‘Kay, but wake me up before we get there, I want to see the cabin with you.”

“Fine,” he huffs, giving another one of his signature eye rolls, but then his face softens into the gentle exasperation he wears so often around Colin.

As Colin settles in to sleep, hoping his betraying body will let that happen, he says, in a sleep-riddled voice, “Sorry this vacations already been such a disaster.”

“Idiot,” he sighs, then a little more firmly, “You couldn’t help it. Just sleep, babe, it’s okay.”

[boysbellyrubs]

Harry's Illness

I'm deep into assignments and the looming exam season, but here is this fic. Bit short, but sweet :)

---

A sick feeling rested in the centre of Harry’s stomach. It gurgled and growled like a swamp, making him hyper aware of everyone else in the room at the moment. He turned to face the white board, staring at the interconnecting strings and photos of their latest case. They had been working on it for more than a week with absolutely no leads, no suspects, and one detective coming down with a gnarly stomach bug. Harry felt his back twitch as a cramp squeezed his middle, more fiery noises coming from inside. 

The board provided no cover for the noise, but it did allow him to subtly push on his bloated middle, desperately trying to get it to shut up. 

“Hey, Lawrence, does staring blankly help or are you going to help?” One of the other detectives spoke behind him, tense words spitting out of his lips. He couldn’t remember his name for the life of him. 

He turned then, fixing his gaze on the man shuffling through some papers. “Sorry, just not in the mood to look through 500 prison records.” The man scoffed at him but turned back to his work. Harry looked out of the squad room door, watching as Jack approached with a fresh mug of coffee. 

“It’s 6pm.” Harry said lightly. 

Jack shrugged, gulping down a mouthful. “I’m useless if I get tired, these two know.” Jack had worked with the other detectives, but Harry hadn’t met them until that morning. So far, he was only partial to liking Detective Watson. 

“Zombie Woods not making an appearance?” She said, smiling as Jack came to steal a few papers from her. 

He huffed, “Not today. Found anything useful?” He directed the question at Harry, and that was the moment where his stomach decided to announce its distress the loudest. He physically felt his cheeks pale and his knees buckle, the cramp ripping right through him. “Jesus. Hungry?” Jack continued, eyes glued to Harry’s stomach. 

The other shook his head, moving back to the board. He opted to just ignore it along with the wobbly edges to his vision and nausea crawling up to his chest. He felt the others give him looks behind his back, but he couldn’t care less. It was important for him to not fuck this up, he couldn’t destroy his first big case around his older coworkers. Especially in front of Mr Prison Records. God, what was his name? 

“Anyway, I got word from one of my possible witnesses that she usually saw our guy doing his service around the shopping mall near the City Centre. Probably some other witnesses around there.” Jack said to Watson. She responded quietly, or Harry just lost the ability to hear. 

All he heard was the oncoming tidal wave of nausea that was rapidly approaching his throat. He swallowed thickly, an uncomfortable grimace on his face. His stomach was aching and cramping like no other, echoey gurgles bubbling up and out. He knew if he didn’t get out of here quickly he was going to puke all over the floor, ruining the carpet and his reputation. Harry felt himself gulp again, spit gathering faster than he could manage.

Without any warning, he left the room at lightning speed. He walked on unsteady ground, feeling seconds away from tripping, as he made his way to the bathroom. It was the longest walk of his life. 

Bursting into the room, he bolted to the nearest stall and doubled over. Hot, thick vomit poured out of his mouth, the gurgling now residing at the base of his throat. It hurt terribly, both his stomach and his throat. Harry stabilised himself on the wall, palm flat against the plastic, and groaned through a dizzy spell. He felt the urge to vomit again and quickly dropped to his knees, bracing his hands on his legs. The next round was watery but burned worse and it made his eyes squeeze shut. 

Harry groaned, rubbing a useless hand over his tumultuous upper belly. The cramping powered through his touch. “Fuck..” He mumbled, then spat out bile and saliva. The smell was vile. It filled his nostrils and sparked another hearty gag, causing him to cough and choke as nothing came up. With his eyes closed, he fumbled around for the toilet paper, quickly gathering some up to wipe up the mess on his face. The unexpected force had caused tears to leak from his eyes and his nose to run. 

He was a pitiful sight, especially kneeling on the dirty ground. Harry flushed the toilet. He couldn’t take the smell anymore. He just sat down on his butt, leaning against the door as he tried to calm himself. His stomach felt like it was never going to settle. Harry imagined his breakfast and lunch fist fighting inside the organ, swimming around in his stomach acid. The image made him gag. 

Going back into the squad room was going to be a disaster. He didn’t even know if he would be able to pull off being healthy, not with the way his hair stuck to his forehead and his shaky breath and hands, they would immediately suspect something was wrong. Not to mention the disastrous stomach gurgle that everyone had heard. He was done for. 

As if further agreeing with his point, his stomach fired up again. A strong cramp hit his middle alongside another sickly grumble. “Ooh, god.” He moaned, sitting up to lean over the toilet again. Harry wrapped his arms around himself, letting his mouth hang open as saliva dribbled out, jaw aching. Food splashed against his oesophagus and he was vomiting once again. It made his back curl. 

He continued to spew up his insides for the next ten minutes, occasionally interrupted by a random officer asking if he was okay. It was humiliating. Harry breathed deeply through his nose, eyes closed and head resting back on the door. His hands were slowly rubbing along his belly, desperately soothing it and forcing it to stay down. So far, it was actually working. Harry had always been one for physical touch when it came to sickness, so a little belly rub was doing him wonders. 

But, he needed to get up. He was starting to shiver and his ass was hurting from being on the ground for so long. Jack and the others were probably wondering where he was anyway, if they hadn’t already left. Picking himself up was more difficult than he anticipated. His fever was raging, making him dizzy with every movement. 

As he pushed open the door, Jack’s face was the first thing he saw. 

“There you are. You look like shit,” He really needed to work on his bluntness. “Are you sick?” He pushed himself off the wall, arms folded as he peered into Harry’s glossy eyes. 

Harry knew he shouldn’t lie. “Um.” Good job. 

“I see,” Jack nodded, laughing a little, “Right, let’s get you home, rookie. Stomach bug? Think there’s one going around.” He put his hand on Harry’s burning shoulder, steering him back down towards the main room. He didn’t give Jack an answer, embarrassment overtaking his rational mind. 

They walked past the squad room, Harry glancing inside. Watson and the asshole were still in there but they looked off task. 

“They’re really useless. I’m going to miss you over the next week.” Jack spoke quietly into Harry’s ear. His words made Harry feel slightly better. 

“Sorry.” 

They approached their desks, Jack collecting up both of their things. He handed Harry his jacket, waving his car keys up to his face. “I’ll drive. And, don’t say sorry, can’t help getting sick. Just wish it wasn’t right now.” He chuckled a little to soften his words. It was a long walk to Jack’s car, but Harry was grateful to finally sit down somewhere soft. His stomach had begun to hurt while they were walking, so he sank down a bit and held his middle. 

Jack fumbled around in the back for a bit, then got into the driver's seat while chucking a plastic bag onto Harry’s lap. “Use that if you need to be sick.” The car engine revved, Jack immediately pulling out of the spot. Harry was grateful for his partner knowing exactly what he needed. Perks of being detectives. 

Harry kept his eyes closed as the streetlights flashed by. The movement mixed with the flashing was creating a nasty storm of nausea and sickness in his belly. It was a battle, but Harry managed to not puke at all on the way home. 

“Do you need help getting inside?” Jack said, expression blank. 

“Why are you so good at this?” His fever-addled mind made him speak the first thing that came to mind. 

Jack laughed at him, “Younger siblings. Do you need help?” He pushed. 

With his head and stomach spinning the way it was, Harry did. He nodded slightly, unbuckling his seatbelt to plant his feet onto the footpath. Jack’s hand held his forearm, gently pulling him up to standing. 

The entire walk to the door, Jack had his hand strongly planted on Harry’s back, guiding him. Jack probably didn’t realise how much Harry appreciated it, something as simple as a hand pushing him forward calmed his sick mind. 

Being inside was luxury. Harry instantly collapsed onto his couch, hugging the bag to his middle. Jack stood a little awkwardly in the living room after turning on some lights. His eyes wandered around the decorations and eventually he walked over to draw the curtains shut. 

“Okay, you think you’ll be alright? I can come around tomorrow with your car and some supplies.” Jack’s voice gave away his concern. Harry felt himself smiling at the fact that Jack was letting his walls down around him a bit more. 

“Yup.” He spoke quietly, exhaustion now his leading symptom. The room fell silent. Harry could feel his muscles unwinding, his stomach finally letting him rest and he shut his eyes. 

Jack’s footsteps walked away. They stopped. “Get some rest, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

[xykcta]

first I like this silly template from old game about small human in monster world, second I like to show difference between my characters

[justmeandmysickies]

Good to see you back! No pressure but I'd love to see a fic with Key getting sick in the middle of the night. Maybe he's trying to be extra quiet because Jay has work or something the next morning so he doesn't want to wake him up...

Gotta get up early

"Can you please hurry up?" Jaylen asked, very obviously annoyed. Key turned around angrily - this was getting frustrating. He just wanted to get some grocery shopping done so he wouldn't have to do it tomorrow and he'd only been at it for 10 minutes so what was his boyfriend's issue? "What is your problem? I'm going as fast as I can and you're still giving me shit."

"You know I have to get up early tomorrow! My day is absolutely packed and I told you that I want to go to sleep early tonight but no, my boyfriend wants to go fucking grocery shopping at 8 in the evening." And with that Jaylen took off towards check out to wait there for Key.

Key stood dumbfounded. Yes, Jaylen had told him that he'd be going to sleep early tonight but who on earth could have guessed that early legitimately meant 8 pm? He sighed as he went back to getting his groceries. This wasn't worth fighting over but he couldn't help the annoyance he was feeling.

The pair met up again at checkout and got to their car without really speaking to one another at all. Once they'd loaded their groceries into the trunk, Jaylen grabbed Key's hand as he turned towards the driver's side to get in. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just haven't been getting much sleep lately and I wanted to fix that today. Tomorrow is gonna be stressful and to be honest I'm feeling the anxiety already."

Key turned around to face Jay. "You still had no right to speak to me that way."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Thank you. Let us get home then so you can get some proper sleep." He gave Jay a quick peck on the cheek and got into the car.

At home Key unpacked while Jaylen took a shower. As he was putting their veggies into the fridge he suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea wash over him and he had to stop. He was leaning heavily against the fridge, panting as he was trying to figure out if he was going to be sick or not. The fridge started beeping as the door was still open and Key closed it in slow and deliberate movements. The nausea wasn't letting up and he gagged into his hand. Jaylen was still in the shower, he could hear the water running. So he turned towards the sink and tried to take deep breaths. His stomach seemed to calm down a bit and Key let himself sink to the floor to sit for a minute and take some measured breaths.

He scrambled up as he heard Jaylen exit the bathroom, he hadn't even realized the water had been turned off. The quick movement jostled his stomach and a bubble of air made it's way up his esophagus. He couldn't hold it back so just as Jaylen turned the corner to the kitchen, Key burped. Loudly.

"Whoa! What a greeting. I'm happy to see you too." Jay laughed as he stepped further into the kitchen. Key still had his fist in front of his mouth while staring intently at the floor. The burp had brought some relief but for a second Key had been convinced he was going to throw up on their kitchen floor.

Jay paused. "Hey, you okay?" He put a comforting hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.

Key straightened up. "Yes, just fine. Sorry, that snuck up on me." He laughed and went back to packing away the rest of the groceries that still lay on the table. He was still feeling slightly nauseous but it wasn't bad enough to worry Jaylen with it. Key figured he'd simply sleep this off.

Jaylen wasn't entirely convinced but Key seemed happy enough so he let it slide. "Any problem with me going to bed now? I'd really like to try and sleep."

"Of course, babe. I'll join you in a bit. Sleep tight." And with a quick kiss Jaylen left the kitchen. Key finished up and followed soon after, still feeling slightly iffy.

He lay awake for what felt like hours. Jaylen was sound asleep next to Key as he tossed and turned, failing to get comfortable. The nausea ebbed and flowed constantly causing Key to sit up several times, each time considering if he needed to make a dash for the bathroom. At about 2 am he was so frustrated that he decided to sit in front of the toilet to maybe trick his body into throwing up and just getting it over with so that he could sleep. He got up as carefully as he could as not to wake his boyfriend and tiptoed to the bathroom.

Of course his body wasn't doing him any favors. Now that he was sitting on the bathroom floor, knees and ass hurting from the hard surface, he was actually coming to the conclusion that his body was set on torturing him on purpose. What he'd done to deserve this, he didn't know.

Key was starting to fall asleep, head on the edge of the bathtub as the nausea suddenly surged again. Key barely had time to sit up before a wave of vomit rushed up his throat. He'd been sitting too far from the toilet and he cringed internally as he heard some vomit splatter on the floor. He managed to position himself properly for the second rush. He coughed and spluttered as his body purged everything he'd eaten that day. He tried to keep as quiet as possible but that's a rather hard task when your insides are trying to become your outsides.

Wave after wave of sick landed forcefully in the toilet and Key couldn't seem to catch his breath. His back and stomach muscles were hurting from the constant heaving and tears of exertion were streaming down his face. He was choking on another wave when suddenly a strong hand started pounding on his back while another grabbed his shoulder.

Key was faintly aware of Jaylen talking but he couldn't make out what his boyfriend was saying. He was too preoccupied with the agony he was currently experiencing. After what felt like hours to Key the vomiting tapered off and he could finally draw in some much needed breaths. The pair sat in silence for a couple of seconds with Jaylen dutifully rubbing his boyfriend's back.

Finally Key groaned and straightened up a bit to grab some toilet paper and flush. "I am so sorry."

Jay switched to slightly massaging Key's shoulders, careful not to apply too much pressure. "Why are you sorry, babe?"

Key melted into Jaylen's touch and sighed. "I did not mean to wake you up. You have to get up soon."

Jay cursed himself. "Oh babe, you should have woken me up. I don't care if I don't get sleep because I'm taking care of you. My heart hurts at the idea of you suffering by yourself. Please don't do stuff like that. Just wake me up, your health and well-being will always come first for me."

Key hummed in acknowledgement. He was getting sleepy and struggling to keep his eyes open. Jay realized and chuckled lightly. His boyfriend was cute when he was tired. "Okay, come on. To bed with you." And so he hoisted Key up to his feet so he could tuck him into bed. "I love you, baby. Feel better." He whispered as he placed a gentle kiss onto Key's forehead. He was answered by another affirmative hum as Key's breathing already started evening out.

[xheykyjx]

“I’on’feel good,” Nadia says thickly, slurring through the nausea gripping her from sternum to mouth. Frankie palms at the back of her head, right above her neck, gently pushing her forward over the trashcan.

“I know, baby,” Frankie murmurs anxiously. Their free hand hovers over Nadia’s belly like a hummingbird over a flower, quivering with a strange kind of anticipation. Nadia hiccups, belches out a long string of saliva that dangles stubbornly from her lower lip. She sways minutely from side to side, eyes squeezed shut as her body cruelly edges her toward some sort of relief from the all-encompassing wave pool inside of her.

“Goooood, I hate this,” she moans, and Frankie watches her hands curl into fists atop her thighs. “I’m—” She twitches and moans again, wordlessly, hunching further over. Without meaning to, Frankie’s hand is brushing her soft belly, a layer of fat over strong muscle. Nadia belches again, a tight, gurgling thing that bursts up from her throat. Her back muscles tighten, breath hitching once, twice, three times in a row, quick and compulsive.

“Oh, god,” she breathes, hunched and rocking pitifully over the trash can. “Oh, my god, ‘m—I’m—” She hiccups again, and her throat constricts around a tiny, wet gag. “Oh, g—” The next heave is larger, more guttural; has her coughing over the trash. A blob of thick, cloudy saliva plops heavily against the plastic liner.