In terms of a guy struggling in the bathroom and being overheard I’m thinking about a junior executive finally being allowed to fly on the company jet. it’s him and the rest of the executive team. suddenly the plane food doesn’t agree with him and he bolts to the toilet. the private plane is so small that there’s not a seat on board that can’t hear what’s going on. within earshot of his entire professional network he’s voiding helplessly at 30,000 feet.
Oooo I like this one!!
Maybe the food is really rich and heavy, nothing like what he normally eats. And his guts already feel twisted with nerves, it’s his first time being invited on a work trip. His boss clearly must like him somewhat if he’s invited him, but what if he says something dumb and messes up! He does his best to brush off his anxiety as he chats and gets closer with his higher up coworkers. He’s too distracted by the atmosphere to notice that, whilst chatting, he had consumed a ridiculous amount of the nice salmon and fancy cheeses that were among the food offered on the plane. It’s not until a lull in the conversation that his attention is brought to his bloated stomach, all the food he ate feels like concrete in there now.
Later on each businessman is asked to go back to their respective seats and buckle up, some rounds of turbulence were expected. The man finds a seat for himself. His boss ends up in the seat next to him, which makes him feel awfully squirmy. His anxiety only spikes once the turbulence starts. The shaking swirling around all the heavy food in his tummy. It feels like it moves his stomach more than the rest of him. Almost like the weight of all the food made it rise and fall with more force. It was disorienting and made him feel queasy. His face pales when a groan comes from underneath his suit, a sudden stop in turbulence making the sound clear as a bell.
He silently goes to unbuckle his belt to make a quick run to the bathroom, but an attendant is at his side immediately.
“You need to stay in your seat, sir”
She sounded a bit irritated, he guessed that having to work while a bunch of rich businessmen have a get together would sour anyone’s mood.
His boss kindly offers him a sick bag, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell him that’s not what that noise meant. He’s glad the man isn’t put off by his unwellness though. If anything, he actually seemed concerned! The extra attention made his belly flutter a little, and he tried to soothe the extra movement with a palm against his middle. Butterflies didn’t feel too good when you had a nasty tummyache.
So he sits in silence the best he can. The assumed motion sickness gives him an excuse to wrap his arms around his tummy to muffle its groans. He feels his hole twitch a little in his dress pants, clearly desperate to get this rich food out of his system. The plane has started to bounce again and his stomach feels like a shaken soda can. Speaking of-his boss has very kindly offered him some ginger ale, a concerned smile pinching his face.
“You look like you need it, remember the bag is here for you too.”
He downs the can in a display of faux gratefulness, and he really is grateful that his boss is so caring. It’s just that his help is adding carbonation to his already groaning stomach. The soda feels like it’s angrily fizzing against his insides, protesting along with everything else he’s put in there.
He has to muffle a few burps into his fist, each contraction pushing the gas up also making his asshole flutter. He’s able to keep it closed, but he can already feel burning mush right at his opening. If he drops his guard at any point there will surely be a mess in his pants. Another growl from his guts does just that. It’s so intense that he can feel it in the top of his tummy all the way down to his asshole. He gasps and he feels his ass give a little. A small bit of sludge just barely escapes, and he can feel the slime coating his asshole.
“You sure you’re alright, kid?”
His boss is looking at him again. God, he wished he wouldn’t. His eyes just made his face burn hotter and his tummy churn harder.
“I don’t know if I can…keep holding it” the man admits quietly. Squirming a little in his seat as another cramp squeezes him.
“It’s alright if you can’t, that’s why we have the bag” he smiles and gently pats him on the back, the gesture is so comforting. He wants to lean into his boss and demand more of that comfort. Curl up in his lap while his tummy tortures him. But he needed to be professional. He couldn’t afford any stains on his reputation now that he had come so far.
The muscles in his abdomen are literally quivering by the time the turbulence lights switch off. Finally. He can shit. He just needs to make it to the back of the plane without looking too desperate. A flash of heat traveling down his spine erases that thought, and he’s fumbling with his seatbelt before practically throwing himself out of his seat. He does a humiliating half waddle run as cramps start to build in his belly.
The door to the tiny bathroom slams shut and now he’s working through the last barrier between him and relief, his pants. He fumbles with the button, his hands are pressed against his stomach and he can feel the vibrations against his hands. His tummy his swirling and filled to the brim with diarrhea and he wants it out so bad.
He shoves his pants and boxers down and is finally given sweet relief. He feels his tummy contract as it forces out the mess as hard as possible.
“Mmmmghgg!” There’s literally nothing he can do to stop the sounds coming from him. His belly is tightening so viciously and his sphincter is pushing so terribly hard. It’d be like trying to stay silent while you get punched in the stomach.
The heat hits him again, it’s a sticky feeling that feels like it’s clogging his lungs. He feels his vision start to go. He tries to push away rising panic and slumps to the side, resting his head against the wall that’s way too close to him. He gulps in deep breaths in between pushes, which does the trick and that horrible icky panic fades with each round of slop splashing into the toilet.
“Ah! Owowow fuckkkgh” a boiling cramp launches him into another push. He feels half formed chunks of shit pop past his burning hole. The rest is just a pure mudslide of sickness. He gasps as the cramps let up, and is horrified at the hitch in his breathing. He’s really going to cry over this?? But his tummy just hurts so bad, he feels so embarrassed and he’s been so stressed that waves of emotions are bombarding him now, his body wants to release in every way. The thought that his colleagues can definitely hear everything that’s happening sends him over the edge. He feels fat tears start to run over his nose, down to his lips bringing the taste of salt.
His lips wobble around a sob while he bends over at the middle, a spluttering fart sends a little more mess into the filled bowl. He’s not shitting as much anymore, but his stomach still feels terribly unsettled. Like one poke or jostle will launch him into another round. He leans back and puts both hands to his bloated gut, pushing in a little to see if his theory is true. All it does is push out a deafening fart that has him gasping with relief. The gasp ends with an ugly sound as he chokes on a second sob.
He’s so upset. He desperately wanted to make a good impression on his boss. And everyone there for that matter. They had been kind enough to invite him and his boss had even been patient when he thought he was airsick. And now he’s literally crying and shitting in the man’s private jet. He spends the next several minutes trying to recover from his meltdown. He’s gotten his sobs under control, and no matter how hard he pushes nothing else is leaving his body. He flushes at the sound of his ass opening and closing as he gives a few more repetitive pushes.
He tenses when he hears a knock at the door, eyes wide. It’s the attendant from earlier. She’s letting him know he’ll need to leave the leave the bathroom and prepare for another round of turbulence.
He gives a shuddering sigh and tells her that he’ll be out in a moment. The toilet paper is harsh against his puffy hole while he cleans up. The cool water from the small sink is soothing, and he splashes some on his face. Hoping the chill will soothe some of the puffiness in his eyes.
He keeps his head down as he sits back down in his seat, offering a small, quiet apology to his boss. His kindly boss is having non of it, however.
“Why didn’t you say you were feeling that kind of sick!”
His hand is on his back again, staying this time instead of the chaste pats he was offered earlier.
A couple of gross jokes are thrown his way, one man is clearly mimicking his grunts and he feels his face burn with shame. A couple snaps from beside him quickly shut up the jokesters.
His boss reassures him that they’ll be off the plane soon, and that he doesn’t need to worry about anything work related until his stomach is feeling better. He smiles at his words, feeling a bit less like his world was crashing down.
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Vampires who went a little too long without feeding and so when they next get the opportunity, they positively gorge themself on blood. Having to lie down after with an uncomfortably full, tight, and sloshy tummy. Muffling little burps into their fist because they also managed to accidentally swallow a whole lot of air, competing for the already limited room inside their belly.
Vampires who are intolerant to normal food being made to eat it anyway to keep up appearances or because the setting calls for it, leaving them feeling queasy and unsteady. But they can’t do anything about it with so many people around and watching.
Vampires who, in their immortal lives, have grown unaccustomed to tummy aches, suddenly developing one for one reason or another. Normal remedies don’t really work and so the only option is to pathetically wait it out. Bonus if it leaves them feeling whiny when they otherwise wouldn’t be.
been having. lots of fun indulging in the rot™️ with @starsherald ........nothing like some damaged men finding healing with each other and gaining weight :)
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"Last one in the water is a sack of shit!" Leo squealed, sprinting down the deck and slipping at the last second, falling into the lake none too gracefully, limbs spread out in a funny way.
Jonah let out a dramatic, "LEO!" While Vince chuckled loudly, whole body arching back as he grabbed his left pec, cheeks flushed. Max snorted at their antics, even more so when Leo emerged from the water spluttering, a piece of algae stuck to his hair.
"What are you waiting for?!"
As if he was just waiting for his cue, Vince patted Max's back and then ran down the deck, jumping and hugging his knees, cannonballing nearly on top of Leo's head.
"Is it cold?!" Max asked, eyeing the lake. It looked pacific and today was a really, really warm day, but he was the skittish kind, he couldn't help it.
"Nope," Leo swam closer, splashing water Jonah's way and causing the other man to let out a yell.
"Leo, my phone!"
"Let go of that and get in the water!"
Vince emerged, shaking his head like a dog and sending water droplets everywhere. He swam to the edge of the deck, throwing his arms on the wood and smiling at Max, "c'mon in, it's great."
God, Max bit down a dreamy sigh at the vision.
Lately he felt like he was slowly, key word here, falling out of love with Vince. He seemed more annoying than usual, which Max knew he wasn't really, but the flaws he had originally noticed before crushing hard on the guy were visible once more. Which wasn't to say he had turned blind overnight and his whole body didn't react to Vin still, but there was a hint of annoyance now that wasn't there at first.
Annoyed at Vince and Wendy for the shit show they had made of his life in the past months, but in a surface level. Something he hadn't felt at first, but now he did. Leo said it was a good thing, Max didn't care either way. It wasn't like his feelings had been a decisive factor lately.
Cold water hit him straight on the face, snapping the blonde out of his thoughts and he glared at Vince, whose cheeks were flushed as he pointed at Leo briskly, "wasn't me!"
"Wasn't me!" Leo cried out, although he was giggling too much. Max wasn't sure who to believe, so he opted for raising both middle fingers.
"You guys suck," he scoffed, walking back to the shore to ditch his flip flops and his T-shirt.
Atwood was hanging back like some sort of ghoul, arms crossed and sunglasses, which made him look even more douchey than usual. Max rolled his eyes at the guy, turning his back at him and running down the deck, yelling, "INCOMING!"
He did a pirouette mid air and then dunked in the water. They hadn't been lying, the water wasn't really cold, the perfect temperature. Leo wolf whistled when he emerged, cheekily saying, "that was a ten out of ten, baby!"
"Baby?" Vince whispered in his ear, causing Max to get covered in goosebumps and splash water his way. Fuck this guy, really.
Jonah sat on the edge of the deck, putting his feet in the water, but not getting in, not even as Leo swam between his legs and puppy eyed him, "c'mooon, Jon!"
"No, it's gonna fuck up my hair," Jonah said, while Leo did his best imitation of those wet eyed seals. Max tried not to laugh, just as Vince poked his ribs and raised a finger to his lips, in a stay quiet gesture.
He disappeared underwater, a shadow swimming to where Leo was still trying to convince Jonah to join them. Max watched, pressing his lips not to laugh as Vince swam under the deck and then just his hands poked out, wrapping around Jonah's calves in an iron grip.
"what- VIN-AHHH!" Jonah yelled as he was pulled from the edge of the deck and thrown straight on the water, on top of Leo who didn't move out of the way fast enough.
Max laughed, even harder as Leo emerged clutching his nose, while Jonah spluttered and cried out, "you are such a jerk, Vince Monacelli! Such a fucking je-" he got interrupted by Leo tugging the front of his soaked tanktop and kissing him.
Vince splashed water on them, "leave some room for Jesus, you two."
"Someone is envioussss," Leo sing song, hiding his face in Jonah's neck, seeming more content than Max had seen him be in ages. They were adorable, even if Max thought Jonah was a bit of a stuck up prick, it was heart warming how much he clearly fawned over Leo.
Vince rolled his eyes, gesturing to the chore, "C'mon, Luke, you're missing out! Get in the water!"
Luke shook his head, he had sat down on the chore, back resting against a tree trunk, in the only shadowy patch there was. He had a book in his hand, but Max would've bet money that he hadn't read a single page. Nevertheless, Lucas raised it as a justification for staying out of the water.
Jonah snorted, voice low as he said, "he's so jealous."
"Should we get him?" Vince swam a circle around them, face partially in the water, voice causing bubbles to appear, "I grab his legs, you get his arms?"
Leo perked up at the idea, "maybe in a bit, he's too aware right now."
"Okay," Vince's foot found Max's leg, causing the blonde to jerk, at first thinking it was a fish, but nope. He hated how weak his body was, because that alone caused heat to curl in his belly, his cheeks to burn. Max lowered himself in the water, leaving only his nose out, pointedly avoiding Vin's eyes.
Was he all healed up from the break up and now wanted Max back? He probably just wanted a booty call, but how stupid was it to fish for it within his friend group. Idiot.
He sent Vince a glare and the man smiled, pulled his foot back, hands raised in a disarming way.
"Chicken Fight?" Leo suggested and Max let out a disbelieving scoff.
"Who's gonna get André The Giant over here?" He pointed at Vince, who seemed offended at the comparison, "We can't play it in a fair way!"
"We put Jon with Vin," Leo shrugged, "Jonah sucks at it."
"Wow, real nice, baby," Jonah scoffed, making Max chuckle at their antics.
He guessed Leo had a point, Jonah was all prim and proper, no way he was a good player.
"You know what? Sure, get on top," He swam to Leo, patting his shoulders.
"Leo doesn't hear that often," Vince teased, receiving a splash of water straight to his face, by Jonah.
Max and Leo were a good team and since they had similar builds, they could switch between turns. Max was a little flabbergasted by how shredded Leo was, he had known the guy was lean, like himself, but those abs? Not a thing regular people should have, only movie actors.
Nevertheless, they didn't stand a chance against Jonah and Vin. Jon might be a diva, but he was just as strong, if not stronger, as Leo, and Vince well... The guy was clearly playing with them like he did with his baby sisters.
Probably feeling dejected and sensing that he was the only one who could level the playing field, Luke had moved closer to them and had his feet in the water. He reminded Max of how JD skittered around Leo's place when he was over.
"He's ticklish," he told Max and Leo, clearly invested in the game, as Leo spluttered and sunk his fingers on Max's calves with so much force that there would be purple bruises there in the morning, "like really ticklish."
As if Max didn't know that.
Leo apparently didn't, because he used the infirmation to try and touch Vin's armpit, for the first time in the whole game managing to have Jon wobbling on top of his shoulders as Vince jerked away to try and avoid the tickles.
"Luke! Not fair!"
"He's got a weak spot!" Leo cried out like a warrior, immediately moving forward to do it again, but forgetting to hold Max, nearly causing him to fall backwards.
Lucas watched them play another round, then apparently they weren't being sufficiently vicious for his taste, because he said, "fuck it," and got in the water.
"Jon, get on my shoulders."
"I'm not a dog, you can't just say jump and I juUMP!" Jonah squealed as Vince shrugged him off, causing him to fall back into the water, "Vin, what the fuck?!"
Max snorted, lowering himself so Leo could dismount his shoulders and they played rock paper scissors to figure out who'd get to be Vin's partner for the round.
Max won, much to his chagrin, because being on top of Vince like that, his hands curling around his thighs to properly position him... Yeah, that wasn't helping his "Fuck Vince" agenda.
"Squeeze your legs," Vince told him, "and brace yourself, Luke is the worst."
"You just say that because I win every time," Luke shrugged, causing Jonah to wobble and tug on his hair as if he was a disobedient horse.
"With Wendy against Bell? Of course you do, my gi-" Vince's mouth slammed shut mid sentence, realizing what he was saying. They all flinched, Max feeling vaguely nauseous as it dawned on him just how not over it Vince was. Max couldn't even hold it against him, this would all be so much easier if he could just hate Vin, but no... He liked the guy, he was attracted to him and to top it off, he sympathized with his plight.
"Okaaay," Leo said, awkwardly, "Uhm- players get in position! Three, two, one- FIGHT!"
Lucas lost the first one and Max, Leo and Vince watched amusedly as Jonah and him yelled at each other for a solid minute before resuming to their initial positions. They won the next one, Max falling into the water with a splash that caused his back to hurt and by the time he emerged, Leo was already climbing Vince like a tree, causing the other man to whine about having his curls tugged at.
The next round Luke and Jon lost again, causing Luke to rage quit entirely.
"Don't be such a baby, Luke!" Leo cried out, as Lucas used the deck to lift himself out of the water, "c'mon, dude, we're just playing!"
"No, I have a headache, I'm gonna lie down," Lucas lied through his teeth. Max eye rolled so much he feared it was gonna get stuck.
"Sore loser, much?"
"Fuck off, Daniels."
Max didn't pay him any mind, if anything he was glad the guy was gone, but apparently the others didn't share his satisfaction, because they only stayed in the lake for another hour before heading inside.
As soon as they were out, Max overheard Vin tell Jonah in a quiet voice, "I'll check on him."
Atwood truly was spoiled rotten, huh?
Max followed Leo into the kitchen. They should probably shower, since the sun was setting and the temperatures were dropping quickly, but his stomach was hurting from hunger.
"Okay, we got, uh-" Leo's voice came muffled from inside the fridge, "chicken and uhm... What is this... Chicken, but in cubes now... And this is... Chicken but in burger form!" He pulled back, smiling, "so what is it gonna be?"
"Chicken?" Max grinned, pushing Leo aside so he could look at their options.
He wasn't a stellar cook. When someone had a fussy stomach as bad as he did, all they needed to know was how to cook potatoes, rice and chicken. From the ingredients they had brought, he figured they could do full on burgers or maybe just rice, chicken and fries.
"So?" Leo asked, but not directed at him. Max looked up, Jonah was by the doorway, having already showered, "is he pissy or he's got an actual headache?"
Jon grimaced, "I think it's an actual headache, I'm hoping it's because we didn't eat all day."
"That wasn't very smart of us, no," Max relented, when he actually wanted to ask why they were acting as if a headache was the equivalent of bleeding out.
"He's gonna be fine," Vince entered the kitchen, circling Jonah and grabbing Max by the hips to push him away from the fridge. Apparently he had already decided he was gonna cook, "did we bring any garlic? Or onions?"
Max shrugged, he hadn't been in charge of anything. He hadn't even been sure if he was gonna come or not, torn between his desire to join and his fear of falling back under Vin's spell and his annoyance at dealing with Atwood for a whole weekend. So far so good, though.
"Do we really need that?" Leo asked, "I prioritized space, bought beer."
Vince stared at him as if Leo had just said all puppies should die, "you prioritized buying beer versus spices?"
"He's from bumfuck Oklahoma, give him a break," Jonah teased, receiving an elbow in his stomach.
"We had limited space in the car and you told me to keep the budget tight!" Leo cried out.
"So tight you didn't bring garlic?!"
"Not everything needs garlic!"
"Did you at least bring salt?!" Vince's cheeks were red now and Max was beyond enthralled. He didn't particularly care what they ate, even if it ended up sucking, he thought it would be fine. Clearly, his ex didn't share his opinions.
Leo's face turned pink, "uh... I brought juice packets for cocktails and vodka..?"
"MA QUI CAZZO!" Vince exploded, causing Max to break and start cackling.
"Why are you guys yelling?" Atwood walked in the kitchen, that was getting too cramped for all of them, glaring at them. Party pooper that he was, he instantly killed the mood.
"Leo didn't bring SALT!" Vince exclaimed, pointing angrily at Leo, who had his lips pressed not to laugh, "you had one job!"
"I brought the essentials!"
"We can head to town and get salt," Jonah intervened before the vein in Vin's forehead exploded, "and Excedrin?" He asked in a lower tone, to Atwood, who nodded.
The drama queen was leaning against the doorway, forehead touching the wooden frame and face pinched.
"I'll go with," Vince decided, "I don't trust any of you to buy food."
"I know how to buy groceries, I was making a strategic decision," Leo argued, while they all moved to the living room, Jonah already grabbing the car keys.
Although he hadn't said it out loud, Max could tell he was worried about Lucas. Over a headache, the drama.
Jonah and Vince left, leaving Max and Leo behind, as well as Atwood, who had sat down on the couch and was cradling his head as if he was dying.
"Awn, Luke," Leo lowered his voice, "is it very bad?"
"Not that bad yet," Lucas answered, his voice barely above a whisper, "Jonah is right, I probably just need to eat."
"Uhm, we can make fries..?" Leo offered. Max noticed he had started to shake, since now it was getting pretty chilly.
"No, kid," Luke pushed Leo's wet shorts, "go shower, your teeth are chattering."
"Yes, dad," Leo teased him, ruffling his hair, "I'll be right back."
Leo sprinted upstairs and Max was left alone with Atwood. Great, just great.
He looked around the room in search of his cigarettes, fishing one out and walking to the front door, opening it so he could smoke half inside, half in the porch — Jonah had threatened him with bodily harm if he smoked inside the house, even the bathroom was off limits... But he was too cold to go completely outside, fuck that.
"Can you not smoke?" Atwood bitched.
Max rolled his eyes, taking a long drag and blowing it out in a thick ring of white smoke, "nope," he poked the ring with his cig, "no wonder you act like this, they coddle you like crazy."
"They're not coddling me," Luke scoffed, moving on the couch in a weak attempt to get away from Max. If he really wanted to avoid the cigarettes, Max figured he could stop with the performance and simply go back to bed.
"What do you call them babying you then?" Max snorted, continuing to smoke. His favorite part of the lake house was, by far, how silent it was. He could hear the crickets chirping and an owl hooting far away. It relaxed every muscle in his body.
Lucas let out a long suffering sigh, shuffling on the couch. Max glanced at him, the guy was pretty pale, maybe he wasn't faking the headache to get attention. Maybe.
There were footsteps upstairs, followed by a shriek. Both their heads snapped, "Leo?!" Luke called out, before Max beat him to it. He got up, walked to the staircase and Max followed, concerned.
"Leo?!"
"I'M FINE!" Leo's voice travelled, "There was a spider in the shower!"
"How big of a spider?" Max chuckled, imaging the other man shrieking because of an itty bitty spider.
"Uh- About the size of my hand...?"
Oh, wow, that was pretty big.
"You killed it?" The nerd in him wanted to go up to check it out, but Luke was absolutely gonna snitch if Max went up to the second floor while smoking.
"Yeah, it's fine," Leo shut the bathroom door once more, ending their shouting conversation.
Max turned around to walk back outside, to pat out his cigarettes that had burned down considerably, only for his eyes to fall on Atwood... Who was shaking...?
"Atwood?"
"Urg-uck," the man clamped a hand over his mouth, then rushed to the kitchen, leaning over the sink with a loud retch. Max jumped, surprised.
"Oh, wow," he walked closer, unsure of what to do, standing awkwardly on the doorway, "are you good...?"
Was this because of the headache or something else?
Luke retched again, this time managing to bring up a mouthful of thick saliva and something cloudy in it. Max wrinkled his nose, stepped closer to reassess his original diagnose of drama queen. Atwood was trembling, maybe he did have a pretty bad headache or maybe it was a bug-
"Go. Away," Luke's voice was clipped with annoyance, one shaky hand attempt to shoo Max away. The blonde snorted.
"You seem a little woozy, I'd rather you didn't split your head on my watch," he peered at Luke's face, the way his throat was bobbing as he fought the nausea, "are you gonna be sick?"
There was a vindictive hint to his voice, a mean part of him that wanted to make this worse a little bit, after Luke had acted like such a fucking asshole back in the car, crying out he wouldn't pull over. Such an asshole.
"GO'WAY!"
Max put down his cigarette on the windowsill, frustrated, "I'm trying to help!"
"Yo'huurk-" Luke gagged mid sentence, spine curling as he heaved again, this time managing to actually bring something up. Cereal? They had brought cereal?
Max wouldn't know, he had skipped breakfast entirely because he had slept until 11.
"Do you have the flu?" Max wondered out loud. Surely a headache shouldn't cause puking, not unless- His mind flashed Wendy, a year ago, throwing up on his shirt while she cradled her head, on the side of the road in Doveport. Not a headache, a migraine.
That explained why the lot of them were making such a fuss about it, "Ah, you have a migraine?" Max whispered, looking around for the light switch. Darkness helped, right?
Luke heaved again, then his knees buckled, but he didn't fall because Max wrapped his arms around his waist before he managed, "Whoa! Hey, don't faint!"
"Mmn'ell," Luke slurred and there was something in his voice that made Max look away from his search for the light switch.
Luke's face had collapsed, right side turned down, left up.
He was having a stroke.
"Lucas," Max's heart was so loud in his ears, he couldn't hear his own voice, "Shit, Lucas. Lucas, open your eyes!"
"Mmgh'ell!" Luke cried out, a hand coming up to grab at his hair, tugging on it with so much force that a couple hairs came out.
"What?! What are you saying -" what do I do?!
Luke gestured, uncoordinated, to the windowsill and it took Max an embarrassing amount of time to realize he meant the stupid cigarette. Shit, the smell.
"Oh my god- My bad, my bad, my bad," he said frantically, putting the thing off inside the sink and turning the register on for good measure.
"What's going on-" Leo froze by the doorway, taken back by the scene. Max's heart nearly leaped out of his mouth.
"Help?! I think he's having a stroke- I- I-"
"Shit, Luke," Leo whispered, concern clear on his face, "lets get you lying down..."
"Leo, call 911," Max instructed, trying to keep his cool and failing miserably. He had never seen a stroke before, but a collapsed face... He'd have to be daft to ignore that glaring red flag, "Leo!"
"It's not a stroke!" Leo snapped at him, sliding under Luke's opposite arm, "c'mon, Luke, we're gonna get you lying down..."
Slowly they made it back to the living room, depositing Luke down on the couch. The man let out a groan, pitching to the side as he heaved again and Leo rushed out to grab him a bowl, while Max planted both his hands on Luke's shoulders to keep him from falling completely.
His face was terrifying, one eye leaking tears like a faulty faucet, lips down turned and limp, the other bright, alert and pinched in pain.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," Max chanted under his breath, making a silent prayer to the universe that Atwood didn't die on him. He was terrified, he couldn't understand why Leo wasn't completely losing it too, "Leo, he's going to die, we really need to call 911-"
"He's not having a stroke," Leo fell to his knees next to Luke, holding a plastic bowl under his mouth and curling his opposite arm around Luke's head, trying to keep it steady as the empty heaves rocked him, "migraine. He's got-"
"Migraine doesn't cause his face to fall!" Max hissed, "call Jonah at least-" he was begging and he knew it, but fuck, this guy couldn't die on him.
Leo hesitated, then nodded, "hold him, keep his head steady."
He then ran to grab his cellphone, ditched upstairs. Max moved around, taking Leo's spot and wrapping himself around Luke's head kinda like an octopus, cooing out of instinct when he heaved and whimpered.
He should ignore Leo's bullshit and call 911 himself. Even if Luke didn't die, if he had had an aneurysm, time was crucial...
"His face collapsed," Leo's voice arrived before he did, talking on the phone, "it's bad, Jon, it's really bad..."
The other man appeared in front of Max, gesturing for him to move, "okay... Just squeeze his hand? That's all?" Leo's hand wrapped around Luke's and he whispered to the fallen man, "Luke, Jon is asking you to squeeze my hand, can you do that? Please?"
Max waited, biting his lip with so much force he was drawing blood. Luke's hand tightened around Leo's, who let out a relieved sigh, "Okay, Luke, now the other one..." Again, a tight hand squeeze.
Leo sat down on the ground, boneless, "yeah, he squeezed it, it's strong," he said on the phone and judging by the clear relief on his voice, Max counted it as good news. He just wasn't sure if he trusted it.
"Ice pack?" Leo asked, on the phone, "no, we don't, but Uh- I have a bottle of vodka in the freezer... Works?"
Max was up and moving before he got an ok from Leo. He took the bottle of alcohol, wrapped it up in a dish cloth and brought it back to the mini chaos in the living room.
"Hold it to his forehead," Leo instructed.
Max obeyed and upon the cool touch, Luke whimpered and curled up even more.
"Ssstop'urtssss-"
"Sorry, man, I can't," Max said, truly apologetic. He watched Luke's face like a hawk, hoping the horrible two-face condition was gonna ease.
It took forever.
Jonah and Vince arrived and promptly took over the caretaking, a bag of groceries being shoved in Max's hands as he was sidelined.
He dumped it in the kitchen, unable to stay away from the living room, where the other two were fussing over Luke in a rhythm that informed Max this wasn't their first time doing it.
Leo got up to wash the vomit basin and his whole face was pink as if he was crying, so Max followed him.
"Leo..."
"I'm okay," his voice came out strangled and Max let out a huff. Leo dropped the bowl inside the sink, whole body shaking and a terrible whine falling from his lips.
"Hey," Max wasn't sure what he was doing, but Leo was his friend and he wanted to comfort him. He stepped closer, pulled Leo's arm and guided him into a hug, which was reciprocated immediately. Leo melted against him, crying, "I know, it was scary..."
It sounded childish said like this, but Max too was shaking, adrenaline starting to come down. Leo sniffled, hugged him tighter, "I thought he- he-"
"I know, I thought so too," Max patted his friend's back, "but Jonah said he's ok, right?"
"Right," Leo pulled back, wiping his eyes, "sorry-"
"Don't," Max squeezed his nape, looking back to the living room. Jonah and Vin seemed to have managed to knock Luke out. Jon was sitting on the coffee table, watching him, while Vince paced behind the couch like a caged tiger, biting his thumb.
Luke's face was normal now and he seemed peaceful. Max walked up to Vin, while Leo curled up on the floor, resting his head on Jonah's thigh.
"Should we move him to a bed..?" Max asked, after a long quiet minute. He noticed Vin's face was white as chalk and his eyes were bloodshot, and he reached in without thinking, taking Vin's hand in his and giving it a friendly squeeze. Vince latched onto him with an iron grip.
"Not yet," Jonah answered, sounding defeated, "I should've seen it coming, he was squinting all day and wearing the stupid sunglasses."
"Not your fault," Leo pressed a kiss to Jonah's thigh, while Max asked again "is it over now?"
"Not necessarily," Vince's voice was raspy, he cleared his throat, "last cluster I thought he'd be better after sleeping, but he was worse. Had to take him to the ER."
"Ah..." What else was he supposed to say?
They eventually disbanded. Vince took a lot of pushing and prodding to move away from Luke, but he did go cook dinner once Jonah promised he wouldn't leave the other man alone. Leo shooed Max to shower and they had a quiet dinner in the kitchen, while Vince watched Luke.
Jonah curled up on the armchair in front of the couch, eyelids heavy, but refusing to move to the bedroom no matter how many times Leo asked... And Leo didn't ask that many times. Instead he came back downstairs with a huge pile of pillows and Max quickly got wanted, so he ran upstairs to grab all the blankets.
They curled up on the living room floor, pushed the coffee table out of the way. Max sandwiched between Vince and Leo.
It was only when Vin snuggled up against him, much, much later that night, that Max's heart finally stopped racing. He let out a sigh, used Vin's bicep as a pillow and curled his hand around Leo's wrist, thrown over his middle. Max fell asleep watching Luke's slack face.
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