riley

Leon’s body wasn’t in the best shape, truthfully, hadn’t been for years, but he’d like to think that after at least a few years or so sober, his body had started healing to some degree.

Hangovers were never pretty, but this time while he stumbles into awareness and wakefulness he realizes that he doesn’t feel hung over.

Being hung over carried a distinctive feeling Leon knew like the back of his hand, especially with how much it felt like it mocked him.

The pounding headaches the taste of regret that would soak his body so thoroughly when it was cloaked with sweat that smelled of whisky.

Yeah he was used to it. Which is why he knows that this feeling, the one that greets him upon opening his eyes this time is different.

He lays there for a moment the world a tad hazy around him as his hand wanders upward to rest on his belly.

It was bare…no shirt…

Ah right it took him a second to remember but he realized that he was home in bed. And from the darkness in his bedroom it was still nighttime.

Leon sighed leaning his head back although he scowled when he noticed that he felt a bit strange.

Not exactly bad, kinda queasy which wasn’t surprising considering he’d gone to a bar with Chris to hang out and just play darts and pool.

Leon had abstained from drinking that night but with excitement and happiness in the air he hadn’t realized how much food he wound up gorging himself on.

Pretzels, pizzas, chips, hot wings, the works really. Then again, with how busy he was, such a luxury that was peaceful free time available for him to hang out with friends was worth feeling like a beached whale for a bit.

By the end of the night he’d been sluggish and exhausted but also packed full in a strangely nice way. All the food becoming a comfortable mass in his gut before he passed out in bed once he got home.

That had been a few hours ago however when he’d woken up now it had been to that same mass of food sitting heavily in his belly as it actively gurgled and growled noisily around it.

Beneath his hand he noticed how tight his stomach was, having domed out beneath his fingers as it gurgled like a bubbling pot. Not to mention the heaviness as well as if someone had placed rocks in his gut.

He flinched, giving a soft hiss when a loud hiccup slipped from between his slightly parted lip.

The sickening heaviness in his gut seemed as if it wouldn’t leave him alone and he grimaced when his fingers pressed on a section of his bloated gut that had a harsh ache rolling through his body.

It stabbed at his core with cold precision before blooming outwards in a way that stole his breath.

“Shit…” Leon whispered to himself clutching a bit tighter at his stomach.

For a moment he closed his eyes, swallowing when that cold slimy queasiness that had been hiding in the background since he woke up seemed to swiftly rise swelling like an ocean wave.

Nausea rolled through his belly like a storm clouds over the ocean, Leon gave another thick swallow when his stomach made an almost unhappy burbling noise.

That wasn’t good…not at all.

A gurgling belch rolled out of his mouth from the near deepest pits of his stomach, the noise leaving his throat stinging and the sour taste of something spoiled in the back of his throat.

The realization has Leon cursing softly, of  course the one time in a few months he had the chance for time off and took it he got food poisoning. It was just his luck.

Another shuddering breath leaves his lips as his gut roils, the mass of food that refused to break down and digest feeling as though a boulder were being pushed up a hill.

Leon shivers slightly when the cold air gently brushes across his clammy sweat covered skin.

He opens one eye gaze going to the bathroom door and then a nearby trash can across the room.

He finds his hand on his stomach once more attempting to slow down what would inevitably have to happen.

He closed his eyes against another swell of nausea that rolled through him tugging a soft whimper from his lips.

His adams apple bobs in his throat at another particular wet swallow as he seemed to be fighting the inevitable with tooth and nail especially when his stomach lurched slightly beneath his hand.

A tinge of stinging stomach acid splashed at the back of his throat, hot, sour and slimy.

Leon’s other hand comes up to cover his own mouth when the retaste of the tainted food in his gut makes him gag. His body lurches forward with a retch immediately afterwards as he grips the edge of the bed with one hand trying to swallow back the coppery tasty pools of salvia rapidly filling his mouth.

He managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, and the sudden change of gravity leaves him reeling eyes  fluttering for a moment as a dizzying nausea grips him so tightly it leaves him disoriented.

A low nauseated groan slips from his mouth as he sways in place, his breathing ragged. He hears his belly give a sickly growling noise like a pop of water giving one last time before it overflows.

The first retch has him lurching forward to the point he nearly slides off the bed, as thick paste like vomit coats the hand he still had pressed over his mouth spraying through the cracks between his fingers before splattering on the hardwood floor.

He shuddered in disgust cringing as he quickly lowered his hand trying to ignore the slimy, oatmeal like sensation of his own stomach contents slipping between his fingers.

It was almost searing hot and absolutely vile.

For a second Leon sits there panting and swallowing rapidly, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

But he can’t move even though he’s attempting to will his body to at least try stumbling to the trash can, it’s almost like it was locked up.

As another wave of violent nausea rolls over him, cold and slimy as it curls around his gut within the very pits of it leaving goosebumps on his arms.

He groans resigning himself to his fate as he shakily manages to lean forward just a bit more when hiccups began jolting his stomach, each one growing increasingly wet before a long, heavy burp rolled out of him reeking of nothing but sickness and nausea that left more of that thick lumpy beige vomiting spewing from his lips.

It splattered heavily on the floor, almost in a  congealed pile, what pieces of food that had been off when he’d gorged himself on them at the bar seemed as if they hadn’t even tried to digest.

Shaking, groaning loudly and shivering Leon manages to slide from the edge of the bed, to his hands and knees on the floor over the mess. Tendrils of drool drip lazily  from his mouth adding a glossy sheen to the congealed vomit on the floor.

Leon wrapped an arm around his stomach, his blue eyes squeezed closed and tears clinging to his lashes as he does his best to ride with the nausea, not fight it.

He knows that giving in is the best way to make it stop, he knows that getting it out of him is probably the best course of action considering the food was tainted and a lost cause but fuck if he doesn’t hate it.

It’s not even the lost of control that was the issue, but more so that it felt like life was ready to kick him down the stairs at every corner. A punishment for his own survival.

Leon began coughing curling into a ball when it felt like a vice grip was squeezing his stomach, his face draining of color even more.

He hears a voice at least he thinks he does forcing  his eyes open to see Chris approaching from the living room where he’s passed out on the sofa asleep earlier at first the other looked half asleep until he saw the mess on the floor and the state Leon was in.

“Woah! Shit okay,” The other man approached rather quickly crouching down beside Leon. His hands reached out hesitantly pausing only for a moment before resting his hand on the other’s back.

Despite his current state of misery Leon squinted up at Chris before managing to speak. “How…the hell are you fine?” He moaned his throat working as he swallowed convulsively. As if that would stop his stomach from aching like a balloon long overfilled and churning like a mixing bowl at full blasted.

Chris gave a soft chuckle. “Can handle anything after eating the stuff Claire made when we were kids.”

Leon gave a sickly groan leaning forward when he gagged threads of bile dripping from his lips, still trying to keep the mess in one place.

Chris cringed, his eyes roving over Leon for a moment assessing him, the heavily glazed look in the other’s eyes, the way his  breathing was coming out in ragged  panting accompanied by wet swallows as the drool trickling from his lips seemed to speed up.

Leon’s back arched beneath Chris’s hand as the other went to the man’s bangs holding them back for him, somewhere in very distant back of his mind Chris thinks something about all this, the way Leon looks feels kinda right although he ignores that thought more focused on helping the other.

Leon whimpered a high pitched broken noise much like a kicked dog, a he shivered limbs shaking as he found himself leaning into Chris’s touch. Grounding. It felt nice really nice.

“Think your done,” Chris asked after a moment even though Leon’s condition seemed about the same.

The other, as if to answer him, gives a rumbling thick belch that seems to come up from the bit of his stomach.

The sound reeking of sheer nausea and stomach acid before throwing up one final wave that splattered onto the floor.

It’s thick, much like paste or batter that hadn’t been mixed properly, a clear sign of the tainted food that’d refused to digest and settle in his gut. 

Leon groaned loudly and Chris catches him when the other’s shaking limbs just about collapse under him.

He lets Leon lean back against him panting, glassy blue eyes filled with unshed tears as his body trembled from exertion.

“Stomach hates me…” Leon mumbled as he simply laid there trying to get his bearings.

Chris gives an amused snort as he holds him his thumb carefully rubbing 

gentle soothing circles into the side of Leon’s neck, fingers passing over his pulse occasionally. 

It was too fast which made sense considering things didn’t make the worry Chris felt for the other any less prominent though.

“You need some electrolytes, think you can move? Or y'know want me to go get them?” Chris asked after a few moments of Leon simply laying in his arms, eyes closed.

Leon cracked his eyes open a bit his hand pausing in the middle of rubbing his own stomach as the color drained from his face at the thought of sticking anything in it right now. He’s quick to cover his mouth with his other hand shaking his head after a soft choked gag managed to leave his lips.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, eventually closing his eyes again but opened them glancing up questioningly when he felt Chris’s hand on his forehead.

“You feel warm,” Chris sighed to which Leon rolled his eyes  at his body’s attempts to kill him.

“Just…stay here for a bit. Don’t wanna move yet,” Leon murmured softly, feeling the adrenaline rush seeping away from his body leaving only the cold and exhaustion.

A feeling Leon was admittedly used to considering his work but it was no less harsh on him especially as he aged.

“And to think when I asked if you wanted me to stay the night you spoke like a husky,” Chris couldn’t help but tease Leon a bit for being dramatic earlier that night when he’d come over to continue their outing when they left the bar.

Leon opened one eye a bit as he looked at Chris, “Keeping the carpet clean is a nightmare.” 

~~~

Your first dinner date with Malleus had gone fantastically well. The food was delicious, both of you had eaten your fill, and Malleus, your sweetheart prince, had paid.

The two of you had agreed upon a walk through the gardens "to aid digestion," but really you had hoped for a romantic moonlit stroll, and suspected that he felt the same.

Though the moon shined bright and your hands were interlocked, however, all was not going to plan. Malleus had growled just a moment ago. Now, looking up at him, a fine wisp of smoke was coming up from his nostrils. Aside from his horns, you had not seen many of his dragon features before. Was he angry?

Face screwed up, he pressed a finger to his mouth, and a growl churned from deep inside him yet again. Probably not anger, then, but—

You squeezed his hand. "Hey, Mal, you look a little queasy."

He glanced down at you, still frowning. "It's fine," he said. "Don't worry— mmmmurrp."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Malleus nodded, smoke trailing up from his nose yet again. "I am," he said. "Just gas."

He did not look very comfortable.

"You can burp out loud," you said. "I don't mind. Besides—" You gently swung his hand in yours. "—you're special to me now. You shouldn't feel embarrassed burping around your special someone."

Malleus was blushing, but he didn't respond. Moments later, another deep burp tried to make its way out of him, but he squeezed his mouth and throat shut tight; one moment later he was gripping your hand deathly tight, then bending over to cover his mouth, wracked by a cough, a cloud of smoke puffing out into the air.

"Mal! Baby, please!" You tried to let go so you could thump on his back, but his hand held yours fast. You reached over to pat with your free hand, practically helpless as he coughed on his own smoke.

It smelled peculiar, but not unlike Malleus himself. The smoke had the firey edge one might expect, plus a dash of bile, but it was underlaid by a tangy musk, like old wood or mulled wine. It was a shame you were only smelling it now that he was in pain.

Finally, he straightened up. "I beg your pardon," he said sheepishly.

"Are you sure that dinner is sitting right with you?" you asked.

There was a long pause. "Just gas," he repeated.

On the garden pathway nearby, there was a little bench of spindly wrought iron. "Here," you said. "Why don't we sit down? Try and burp for me, okay?"

The two of you approached the bench and sunk down into it side by side. After a moment, you heard quick gulping from Malleus's throat— it seemed he was bent on disobeying your request.

"C'mon," you urged him. "Don't swallow them down. It's not healthy. Just open your mouth, Mal, please? Do it for me."

Malleus gave a shallow sigh, and let his mouth fall open. It formed a perfect O around his beautiful set of teeth.

You had yet to learn whether Malleus liked his belly to be touched and rubbed. Asking now, however, you feared would be fruitless, so you opted for a middle ground: Gently, you stroked up and down his abdomen and chest.

Though his mouth hung open obediently, Malleus looked miserable. Suddenly, he whipped his head away from you, faced the other side, and gave a loud and well-formed belch. The peaceful garden scene all around you was lit up green— a ball of fire had burst from him, then just as quickly burnt out.

He drew a shaky breath, and bowed his head.

"Wow," was all you could say.

"You see?" said Malleus, "Nobody likes it when I burp."

"No," you replied at once, "that was cool. Plus—" You applied a little more pressure to his belly, kneading in above the stomach, and were rewarded with a princely gurgle. "—I want you to feel better," you continued. "I can't imagine it's enjoyable to be full of gas that actually burns."

Malleus glanced at you, and took up the hand that was rubbing him. "That's just how my digestive system works," he said. "But... you actually don't mind?"

His fingers were nervously toying with your own, and you let him. "I don't mind at all. We're outdoors; what harm can it do? Let it all out."

"Okay," he said. Gently, he placed your hand back on his tummy where he had found it, before screwing up his face and pounding his chest with a fist. The burp that broke out of him started soft, almost graceful, before expanding into the type of powerful, fearsome belch you now knew he was capable of.

"bbbbbbrrruuuuuuUUUGHHRRRRUUUAAAAAARP!" In the tongue of electric green flame that unfurled from his mouth, you could see better even than in moonlight his parted lips, his half-squinted eyes and knit eyebrows. So much gas was pouring out of him; the release of pressure must be fantastic.

At last, his posture visibly relaxed, and he attempted a soft apology: "Sor— urgph— sorry."

You gave his tummy a loving caress. "No apology needed," you assured him. "That looked like it felt good. Did it?"

"......Yes."

At his response, you could not help but pat the place where his ribcage met his belly. This area, along with his chest, was now very warm.