Hi hello YES- so this was written for a request originally- and then I checked the actual request and realized while the characters were the same, the prompt was completely off. And I didn't want to go back through and edit everything when I was pretty happy with this one so boom! Consider this an extra Lee!Hiragi fic :D I hope y'all like it! (and to the anon who asked for Lee!Hiragi, Ler!Umemiya- I do plan on writing it, this is just for now!)
CW: Swearing
Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):
@yellowelectroslime @angelitecloud
Summary: Umemiya always comes prepared when Hiragi needs him most- in more ways than one.
“Heeeeeh.” Hiragi reached into his coat, pulling out his go-to stomach medicine. He’d been in charge of training the First-Years as of late, which naturally led to a seemingly endless bout of indigestion.
That wasn’t entirely true. They were good kids- strong ones; the kind he’d feel good about leaving behind when he graduated from Bofurin. Alas, they were still very were still that- kids. The most recent attempt at getting them trained lead to Sakura and Sugishita’s sparring match turning into a full on brawl. The reason was lost to Hiragi, but the pain he felt when he caught a few stray hits wasn’t.
“Heh, reminds me of the old days- shit.” He patted himself down, then pulled his coat open. Sure enough, he was out of his go-to medicine. Great- now he had to make a trip to the pharmacy on the way home. His throat ached with heartburn as he rubbed at his stomach, willing the discomfort settling within to ease.
“Toma!!!” A new voice all but sang his name, and said man closed his eyes in preparation before an arm got thrown across his shoulders. “There he is- the King of Tamon! How’s our beloved First Years? Giving you a headache?” He nodded at the way Hiragi was still holding his stomach. “Bellyache?”
“Of course they are.” Hiragi took a low breath, willing the pain to go. It was kinda hard to focus on Umemiya like this. “It’s fine, they got to get it out of their systems at some point. Rather they do it here than where it counts.”
“Hehe, yeah…hey, are you alright?” Umemiya seemed to catch his discomfort. The arm around his shoulders eased a bit, pulling some of the weight off and making things just a bit easier. “Is the medicine not working?”
“I ran out.” Umemiya’s eyes widened a fraction. “It’s fine. It’s not deadly- I can make it through the rest of the day.”
“Toma..” The leader looked thoughtful, then he smiled brightly. “Here!” He reached into his back pocket then, pulling out a familiar white box. “Ta-da! Gas-kun10!”
“When did you- why do you?” Hiragi gaped at the stomach medicine. Judging by the package, it was unopened. “Hajime…”
“Why look so surprised? I always have that on me.” Umemiya grinned, puffing his chest with pride. “I also have lollipops for Kaji, bandages for the kids; several coupons for Kotone’s shop-” He pulled out a few then, pushing them in Hiragi’s hands alongside the medicine. “Pass these out; it’s 5% off the daily special there.”
“You really kept this for me?” Hiragi was still hung up on the fact Umemiya had medicine. He carefully opened the package and popped a few tablets, already feeling better just knowing they were in his system. “Or did you want to try them out for yourself? Here, thanks-”
“Keep ‘em.” Umemiya gently refused, smiling with warmth. “They were for you and still are.”
Hiragi stared at him in shock a second longer before turning away- clearing his throat a few times. The pain from his stomach must have been severe, for his eyes were just the tiniest bit moist. “Thanks, Hajime. I appreciate it.”
“Hehe, yeah! Oh, you know- I learned a great way to help with a bellyache not too long ago! Alongside the medicine, that is.” Bouncing back to his usual antics, the leader of their team all but closed in on him, standing directly behind. “Do I have your permission to touch?”
“Just what exactly are you planning?” Hiragi raised a brow, already suspecting this was going to be dumb. “Am I going to hate it?”
“I learned a good way to help with bellyaches is gently massaging the area.” Umemiya nodded, seemingly unbothered at the prospect of giving another man a belly rub. “Sure, you can do it yourself- but aren’t massages better when someone else does it? So.” He leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Do I have your permission?”
Hiragi closed his eyes, deciding whether he should accept his fate. Eventually, he nodded, turning his back to Umemiya and raising his arms. “Fine, do what you want. You have my consent- just don’t go to ha-ahrd!”
“Whoops- was that too much?” Umemiya asked with a knowing tone, a grin in his voice as he dragged his fingers along Hiragi’s stomach. One arm locked around his narrow waist while the other continued gently pressing circles into the center, making the blonde twitch and squirm in his arms. “Want me to lighten the touch some?” He did so, and Hiragi all but spasmed in his arms as a string of reluctant giggles spilled out. “Is this better?”
“H-Hajimehehehehehe! Gahaha! C-Cohoohohme on, mahahhan, this is sohoohoho dumb! Gehahhahahaha!” Hiragi did a little stomp dance at the feeling, head thrown back and thick wheezes rolling off his tongue. He weakly pulled at Umemiya’s hands, slowly losing strength with each light scratch and poke. Just when he got one hand off, however- it was quickly replaced with the other. “Is thihihis supposed to hehehelp? Ehahhaha, it feheheheheels liihihike it’s nohohoht!”
“Is it making it worse?” Umemiya started to pull away, but Hiragi gripped both his hands with an iron grasp. “Oh? Toma?”
“Hehehehe..eheheh, hohohohld on. I dihihihidn’t say to stohohohop, now, dihihd I?” He knew the second he spoke these words, he sealed his fate, but Umemiya just now sounded so genuinely concerned. Maybe he took too many stomach pills. The relief of that earlier pain made him feel lightheaded and silly. “Kehehep going. It’s hehelping.”
“...Are you sure?” Umemiya asked, and he could feel his narrow eyed gaze on the back of his neck. “You’re not just saying that, right?”
“Prohoohmise. Eherm, pro-omise.” Hiragi nodded, feeling his face burning brightly. He felt Umemiya relax behind him, accepting his request.
“Ah, good! I had to be sure. So…you want me to tickle you more?” Umemiya teased, dropping all pretense that this was a massage as he curled all ten fingers into his gut. Hiragi didn’t get a chance to speak- let alone think- before he was hooting with laughter once more. “What a cute side of you, Toma! I’m learning so much about you today, hehe!”
“Shiiihihihihihit! Ehahahhaa, cohoohohme ohohohon! Mohohohove to a diihihihifferent spahahahoot! I’m nohohohot only tihihicklish thehehe-EHEHEHE!” Hiragi didn’t get a chance to finish his command, flailing hard when Umemiya dug into his ribs. He scrambled a few steps forward with a string of embarrassing noises before finding his footing, holding his stomach as he gasped for air. “Gahahaha! Ah…ahaha..fuhuhuhuck, man..” He groaned, turning to shoot his friend a weary grin. “Yohoohu really got me good, dihihdn’t ya?”
Umemiya puffed with pride once more, grinning like a child who drew the perfect family portrait. It was hard to stay mad at such a sunny exhibition. Hiragi rolled his eyes fondly before straightening out, smoothing out his clothes. “Do you feel better? No more bellyache?”
“Nah, it still hurts- but it’s the good kind.” Tamon’s captain reassured when Umemiya temporarily faltered. “The good kind of pain- after laughing like that. I really needed that after today.”
“Hmm.” Umemiya nodded, smiling warmly. He wrapped an arm around Hiragi’s shoulders once more, giving him a gentle shake. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Thank you, Toma- for taking in our little rascals and helping them grow. I appreciate you.”
“Why are you so sentimental all of a sudden? Are you dying?” Hiragi elbowed him as he ducked with a laugh, pretending the pain from earlier was back. “Don’t come and haunt me if you are.”
“Whaaat? And miss out on watching your life as a ghost? No way!” Umemiya laughed joyfully as they walked, destination undetermined but happy to all the same.
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In the early evening hours as the coast winds down, hazy sunlight bathes the world in gold. The tall grass tickles Reese and Remi’s ankles as they walk up to the barn. The scent of hay and sun-warmed leather greets them in familiar welcome.
“Vince, I mean. Doesn’t he seem…"
“Uncomfortable.” Remi nods.
“Yes! Uncomfortable. Tense.”
Out in the field past the worn fenceposts, Vince stands up halfway and leans against the rake, swiping the back of a hand against his forehead and pushing hair off his face. He looks tense – more so than usual, even, which says something. All 6-foot-much of Vince tends to be a bit locked up and drawn in sometimes, tough and sturdy. Reese usually just figures he’s still warming up to them. Vince is something simple and kind and closed off all at once. But now, it seems a bit more than that, like something’s bothering him.
↓ read more under the cut ! ↓
As they come up to the posts, Vince’s ear twitches. He always picks up on them being around. He turns to face them, dropping the rake and fixing them both with a nod. He saunters over to meet them, wiping his hands off on his work pants. “Howdy, folks.”
His brows are pinched in a furrow. His cheeks are flushed, though his complexion is pale. Thick dark waves of hair fall stringy in his face. Overall, he looks wrong – not quite sick, but not quite right, either. Reese and Remi exchange a look. Reese squints.
“Howdy yourself,” Reese chirps. He leans in against the wood between them. “You good, Vinny?”
“Huh? Yeah.” Vince’s answer is immediate even as his chest jolts with something akin to a hiccup. He looks aside, pressing a fist to his lips for a moment. His throat bobs with a swallow. “M’fine. Why, you alright?”
Reese’s look turns skeptical. “I’m great. What was that, though?”
“Was what?” Vince rubs at the back of his neck, and then across his ribs, looking for something to do with his hands.
“That. Y’know, that whole thing you just did.”
Vince cocks a brow, shaking his head in confusion. “No whole thing. There’s nothing.” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “What’s up with you guys? Need something?”
Reese clearly isn’t satisfied with the redirection. For a long moment, he stares at Vince, trying to pick apart what might be wrong with him. He seems a little breathless, but in early autumn on the water, it’s far too cool for a heatstroke. He doesn’t look quite sad. He doesn’t seem angry. Vince keeps his gaze, resolute in playing stupid. Reese can’t place a finger on it and gives up the staring match.
“No,” he runs a finger along the top of the fence, picking at the grooves in the wood. Beside him, Remi shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “We just came to visit you! Like usual, because you love our company.”
Remi hums his agreement with a nod.
Vince gives a noise of acknowledgement, smiling a little. “Okay,” he says, though his face screws up in discomfort shortly thereafter. He presses one big hand beneath his ribcage, dragging it across his torso. He presses a fist back to his lips to muffle a long belch; neither that nor his closed mouth does much to quiet the noise, and his expression turns apologetic. “Oof. Sorry.”
Reese perks up immediately, alert. Remi tilts his head.
“Is your stomach upset, Vince?” Remi asks.
Vince huffs. “No, it’s–bruuRRP–mmph,” he covers his mouth again, too belated to hide the deep belch that interrupts him. “M’okay. Sorry.”
“No sorry,” Reese chimes in. “That doesn’t sound okay, Vin.”
Vince’s fuzzy ears flick back and he looks away. “S’nothin.’”
“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothin.’” Reese mimics Vince’s accent, smirking towards him.
Vince gives him a deadpan sort of look in turn, swallowing a sigh.
“You are damn persistent, birdy.” Another raucous belch slips up Vince’s throat, and he coughs after, cheeks going a bit pink. “Good gosh. ‘Scuse me.”
Both Remi and Reese have their eyes really trained on him now, and Vince looks between the two of them once, then twice. He blows out a sigh.
Not a moment later, a long, churning gurgle comes from his stomach, and he pushes a hand back square in the center of his gut, leaning forward. Reese resists the urge to reach out for him for a second, and then decides he can’t really keep it up. He puts a hand on Vince’s bicep, feather-light. “Why don’t you come and sit down? Come take a break and hang out with us.”
“It may help to sit. Perhaps you could use some water?” Remi adds.
“Y’all don’t gotta fuss,” Vince mumbles. He drops the hand at his waist, trying to straighten up. His stomach makes another unhappy sound about that.
Reese grips a bit harder on Vince’s bicep, supportive. “Please?” And, because Reese has started to grow familiar with Vince’s stubborn temperament and even more stubborn devotion to being polite, he throws in a, “we’re technically your guests now, sooo…”
Evening color is starting to breach the horizon, turning the sky pink and blue. The night lanterns come alight, almost as if agreeing that it’s time to turn in for the day. A chill comes on the breeze. Vince opens his mouth to oppose, and then shuts it in consideration. He frowns a little. Furrows his brows. And then he exhales a long, slow breath through his nose, heavy enough to move the gold ring in his septum, and he rubs a hand down his face.
“Fi—huuur-ouuurRRRP!--” Vince dips his chin for this one, tail flicking side to side in displeasure behind him. “Fine, fine. Hell, ‘scuse me.”
Reese beams, turning towards the barn. “Great! Let’s go hang out in the stable with the horses. Remi loves the horses.”
“I do love the horses,” Remi seconds. “And I’ll get you something to drink.”
Vince grunts, already making his way out of the pasture and towards the barn himself, waving them off.
Reese rolls his eyes, turning to Remi. “He loves us already, I think.”
“Yes.” They watch as Vince picks up his rake. He gives one of the goats a pat on his way out. “I think he does, too.”
Which of your characters gets bellyaches the most?
Probably Eden, mainly due to his anxiety. He gets like stress stomachaches which can be persistent for hours or even days, and can be really problematic for him.
Jack gets stomachaches too but that tends to be the result of poor dietary choices and that sort of thing.
I really like the thought of holding a fat and full tiny (like your mouse oc) in your hands, massaging their belly and listening to the noises it makes as they try to digest~ Maybe they have a tummy ache and try to squirm away, but the massage is necessary and they're too full to move anyways ^^
this is SUCH a good concept and straight up one of my faves tbh
especially if their tum hurts and they try to get away but can’t because they’re simply too full
they’d be so squishy!!! it’d be a neat sensation to feel their tum give as you poke your finger deeper into their round lil belly
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what does Jude do to make him feel better when he's got a bellyache?
He likes to curl up, wrapped in a blanket, sometimes with a hot water bottle or other times a warm cup of something clasped in his hands. He does like to be close to people, he likes belly rubs but only from those he’s really comfortable with.
