#puke fic

Thank you Lis! This was totally inspiring! It did take me a long time to get the motivation to post it though lol. I wrote this like a day after you sent the idea!

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“Do you think we’ll see a real polar bear on this trip?” Riley asked excitedly as he boarded the train with a misleading name. Madix chuckled and followed along behind his giddy boyfriend, shaking his head. 

The Polar Bear Express—though unlikely to show passengers a glimpse of the white-furred animal—was still a wonder to experience especially during Christmas time. The evergreens sparkled with frost and the sky wore the colours of crystals. Unfortunately, Christmas was also the busiest time, meaning their tickets placed them in one of the last train cars. In hindsight, Riley should have known that the train ride through Northern Ontario held the risk of upsetting his boyfriend’s delicate constitution when it came to travel. 

Madix had successfully gotten sick from cars, planes, and boats; why not add a fourth mode of transportation. Neither he nor Riley thought to consider the consequences. They heard about a romantic Christmas train ride and jumped on board.  

Riley squeezed past other passengers to get to their seats. “I call the window seat!” He planted himself happily in the blue velvet-lined chair. The interior of the car was simple and spacious. It dared not distract from the beauty of nature. “Maybe we can switch on the way back.” 

The train began with a lurch, reminding the boys of the coffee they drank to wake themselves up that morning. Beginning at 8am, the ride took them past mountains and frozen waterfalls, ending where they began at 8pm that night. 

“We’ll probably see moose,” Madix remarked, taking the pamphlet from the pocket of the seat in front of him. There was plenty of leg room, though he still chose to press his knee against Riley’s thigh. All morning, Riley had not let go of his hand. They were stuck together like packing snow. 

The boys shrugged off their jackets and settled in. For the first two hours, they were content to look out the large window. The landscape was crisp and sharp, that was until everything began to blur together. The icy blues melted into a monotone white as the locomotive sped by. 

Their bodies swayed lightly from the movement. Riley found the train relaxing. He liked its gentle hum, the faint clicking sounds of the wheels on the track, and the soft rocking as they traversed the snowy area. They still hadn’t seen a moose, but he kept his eyes locked on the outdoors. 

Madix could not say he felt the same. The train’s friendly interior lulled him into a false sense of safety. But soon he had no trouble remembering that he was inside a giant, chugging, metal box. Perhaps a moose or a beaver did in fact wave to them, but he would never know. Everything became a blur. His eyes could not keep up with the speeding sights. He swallowed a bout of nausea and closed his eyes. 

Riley perked up when they came upon a flowing river. The water looked frigid, but pleasant enough apparently for the black bear that stood with all four paws in the stream. It wasn’t white, but it was still a freakin bear! He tapped Madix’s arm. “Babe, look, look! A bear! Did you see it?” He looked back at Madix with a massive smile. 

Madix jumped out of his queasy daze. He peeled his eyes open, squinting from the light that bounced off the snow. “Mmh?” he mumbled. He was startled just fast enough to see a micro expression of disappointment on Riley’s face. 

“A bear…it’s gone now.” Riley pouted. “Were you sleeping?” 

Madix sat up straighter and blinked hard. “No, I just had to close my eyes for a second.” The lump in his throat told him that he wasn’t going to be able to hide this. His palms were clammy, and his head ached. The breakfast he’d eaten hours ago churned in his belly. “I’m feeling a bit nauseous.”

“Oh.” Riley took his hand off his boyfriend’s arm and pressed himself up against the window. 

Madix swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, honey.” 

“N—No, no don’t be,” Riley stuttered. He brushed a strand of Madix’s hair behind his ear. “You’re pale. What can I do?” 

“Nothing. I’ll probably go find an empty chair and wait it out.” 

Riley hated that answer. Nothing. There was nothing he could do? And Madix’s plan was to weather out the nausea alone? He couldn’t let this happen again. After all he had done for Madix in his time of need, this was easy, right? 

He grabbed Madix’s hand before he could leave their seats. “No, stay. Please. It’ll be okay. I want to help.” 

“Are you sure?” Madix scanned Riley’s expression, looking for cracks. “Because that was bullshit about waiting it out.” He exhaled shakily. “I really think I’m gonna be sick.” 

As if to test Riley’s resolve, Madix burped into his hand. He let out a groan and folded in on himself. He swore he could feel the wind rocking the train car, threatening to push it off the tracks. He squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t even open them when he felt Riley’s hand on his back. 

“I’m staying right here.” 

Madix hiccupped, causing his shoulders to jolt. “Ugh…you don’t have to, love.” 

“Hush now,” Riley said firmly. He reached into the seat pocket to grab a bag. “Look, they even provided a barf bag for just such an occasion.” 

Madix chuckled and took the bag from his boyfriend. He opened it, making the loudest crinkling noises that let all the other passengers know he was sick. “This is not the scenic trip you were hoping to have.” 

“Maybe not, but at least I’m by your side.” 

“Is your plan to be so cheesy that I throw up immediately and get this over with?” 

“Is it working?” Riley regretted his reply when Madix belched wetly into the bag. Strings of saliva dripped from his open mouth. “Shit, baby.” 

“I’m okay.” Madix did not look up from the depths of the hellish barf bag. “Just keep talking. I think it’ll help us both.” 

Riley’s heart chugged in his chest, like a train struggling up a mountain side. “Oh gosh, Mads. I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “This is like when you ask me to talk dirty and I say something stupid about underwear.” 

Madix would have laughed at the specific memory that Riley was referring to, but his tongue was flooded with bile. He gagged and filled the bag with stringy ropes of vomit. The train car spun in his peripheral vision, but Riley’s voice remained constant and strong. 

“Oh dear, babe.” Riley rubbed his boyfriend’s back, unaware of the bite force he exerted on his teeth or the bouncing of his leg. “Deer! I hope we see some of those on this trip. Once you stop puking, of course. I can’t believe you missed the fucking bear. Isn’t your family from the east coast? You’re supposed to have fishermen blood in your veins. What is this motion sickness nonsense? I think you’re faking it.” 

A gush of sour vomit surged past Madix’s lips. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. Riley could be a comedian. He could almost enjoy the senseless drabble if it wasn’t for the gut churning sensation in his belly. 

“Speaking of underwear!” Riley said, still in his hushed whisper. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. Madix was looking better with every heave. “I wore the ones with otters on them today. Seemed like the closest thing to polar bears. Except, they’re wearing astronaut suits because, you know, otter space.”

Finally, Madix could give him a real laugh. The vomiting tapered off. He sniffled and chuckled at the same time, forcing him to clear his throat and wipe the tears from his eyes. “God, Ry. I needed that.” 

“Yeah, that was a lot of puke. Good job.” 

“No, I mean you.” Madix crumpled the top of the bag in his hands to keep the contents inside. “Thanks for making me feel better. You did a good job as well.” 

One of the train workers came by with a garbage bin for Madix to toss the used bag. They gave him water and tissues. His eyes were teary from vomiting, but he looked much better than before.

Riley was only just coming down from the adrenaline rush. His hands were shaking, and a cold sweat was drying beneath his shirt. He slumped back in the chair and let out a wavering exhale. “I think it’s my turn to close my eyes for a second.” 

“Yes, honey, rest,” Madix said softly. “You did good.” 

Thanks for the no pressure! It helped a lot as I try to get back into this. I wasn't sure if the "pun" meant no scat lol, so there's just emeto. I hope it's okay...don't know how I feel about it. Maybe typos maybe not...but probably typos.

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Blair thought her headache would fade once they left her parents’ house. Seeing her extended family for Easter was always a joy, but she could do without the noise from the little ones. At first, the squealing and giggling upon finding an Easter egg was cute. Inevitably, the happy laughs turned into fits of crying and tantrums when the celebration was over. Though the children weren’t happy to be leaving, Blair had to admit she was looking forward to a silent car ride home with Dakota. 

Two hours into the four-hour drive, and her headache had morphed into a migraine. She succumbed to the pain a while ago by leaning the passenger seat back as far as it would go. Her sweater lay over her eyes to block out the daylight. She wrapped her arms together in an attempt to sooth herself, but it was Dakota’s soft voice that did most of the work. 

“Is it just as bad?” he asked, brushing a hand over her knee. In times of crisis like this, Blair liked to kick off her shoes and sit cross legged. Maybe if she made herself smaller, the pain would shrink as well. 

But no, the pain pushed against the walls of her body. Hey eyes threatened to explode from the pressure; her belly whined to the beat of the blood pumping in her ears. Misery loved company, so her head seemed to have invited her stomach to join the party. 

“It’s getting worse,” she mumbled and shifted uncomfortably in the small space. The bumpy ride did nothing to ease her aches. Every bounce and turn jostled her like Jello. She imagined her brain jiggling against her skull in time with her roiling tummy. “Can you go slower?” 

“Gosh, babe, if I drive any slower, we might make it home by Christmas.” Dakota’s eyes squinted in the sunlight. Keeping his eyes on the road hardly mattered when they were going 40 in an 80, and there were no other cars along the country road. He set the cruise control to the snail-like pace so that he could give his fiancée more of his attention. “If I hold out my arm like this, you can lean against me.” 

Blair just groaned and sat up straight in the seat. The sweater fell from her face, making her wince at the harsh light. At the same time, the car rolled in and out of a pothole. Her stomach rose in her throat. “Really? You couldn’t have gone around that?” Her tone was as acidic as the liquid that burned her esophagus. 

“I’m doing my best, Bee.” Dakota took his hand off her leg. “I know you don’t feel well, but don’t get mad at me just ‘cause I’m the only one here.”

That hurt. Not as much as the sword through her head, but it stung nonetheless. “I’m sorry,” she said, miserably wrapping her arms around her midriff. “I just feel sick to my stomach, and this bumpy ass road is not helping.” 

Dakota opened his mouth to provide comfort, but Blair was not finished. 

“And the sun is so fucking bright, and what is that horrible smell? It’s like burning rubber.” Blair pouted. “Why does everything in the universe hate me?” 

Dakota gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, I’m in the universe and I don’t hate you.” 

Blair scoffed and cracked a small grin. “Stop being adorable. I’m dying here.” She had to admit, his joke allowed some tension to ease off her shoulders. She wasn’t alone and everything wasn’t terrible. There were many things that were terrible, but her partner was not one of them. “…Thank you.” 

“Aw, you know I just want you to feel better.” Dakota reached his hand out to rub her belly. “I’m sorry this migraine came at such a bad time. It’s making you feel sick?” 

She nodded. “The nausea is bad this time. Usually I can ignore it.” 

Dakota must have let the Easter bunny take the wheel while he scanned her face. “You do look very pale. Are you going to throw up, you think?” 

She shook her head, then immediately regretted the decision. “I hope not. I’ll try to fall back to sleep so that doesn’t happen.” 

Ironically, it was the nausea that kept her from sleeping. The pain in her head swelled with her bloated belly. All that chocolate coated her insides in a thick layer of gooey slime. When she began to burp, the taste of Terry’s chocolate orange made her gag. 

Blair was alert now. With wide eyes, she clamped a hand over mouth. She forced down two more burps or else she knew Dakota’s car would be ruined in seconds. “Babe—” she began, feeling a tightness in her throat that pinched her words “—Pull over. I need to be sick.” 

Without hesitation or issue, Dakota brought the car to a stop. "Wow sleep did not happen, eh?"

What a stupid time to ask a question.

Blair threw the door open with just enough time to lean over and burp wetly over the ground. She gagged, bringing up a small wave of vomit. It was mostly coffee from the afternoon. The bitter flavour clung to her tongue, but it would not stick around for long because there was much in her stomach to get up.

"I'm right here," Dakota said with a hand on her back. "You're okay." Blair leaned further out of the car with the next heave, nearly falling onto the grass. He caught her arm. "Oh, maybe you're not. Hold on, I'm coming around."

He turned off the car and jogged to the other side. Luckily there were no cars with them on the road. If Blair wanted privacy, she picked the right place to lose her lunch.

Her lunch was fertilizing the grass. Hopefully the open field would thrive on half digested chocolate, coffee, and cubes of cheese that were no longer in the shape of cubes.

She coughed and burped in between waves. "Ugh, Kota, help..." She reached out for him and allowed him to help her out of the car. They staggered like drunken lovers until their knees met the earth.

"I got you." Dakota held onto her shoulder and pulled her hair away from her face. "You're doing good."

"...my head..."

"I know." Dakota kissed her forehead. His lips met unexpectedly warm skin

"...my tummy..."

"I know." Dakota did not lean down to kiss her tummy because the organ chose that moment to convulse again. He heard a gurgling sound in Blair's throat before she pitched forward and heaved a mostly-liquid bout of sick onto the ground. Dakota rubbed her back. "Oh my Bee."

Blair fed the flowers one more time, shedding tears from the force of each retch. The vomiting released pressure from her head but did nothing to ease her belly; it only reinforced the ache that dwelled in her gut.

Dakota's lips still tingled from the heat of the kiss. He knew then that he had to get her home fast. They would need to go much faster than they had been, but at least a bed would be waiting. Blair couldn't suffer like this while on the road.

The universe agreed that Blair should not be in the car.

When Dakota went to start the car again, the engine gave a mighty good try, but failed. Dakota swore under his breath and spared a glance at Blair who still sat in front of a puddle of sick in the grass.

"No, please, no." He took the key out and tried again. "Come, on come on."

The engine tried, and tried, and...nothing. It was just as fatigued and sick as his girl. He called the doctor for only one of the patients.

Defeated, Dakota returned to Blair's side. By the looks of it, she hadn't thrown up again. He sat down next to her with a dejected sigh. "I have bad news."

"I heard."

They both sighed and sat unmoving on the grass. Blair's gaze was lost in her thoughts or maybe her pain. Dakota's gaze never left her. Her red cheeks, grey lips, and dark eyes worried him. He reached out silently with the back of his hand to touch her forehead.

Blair looked up at him with glassy eyes. "More bad news?"

"Yeah." He scooted closer to her and kissed the side of her head. "Remember when I got an infection while camping and got a really bad fever?" Her expression told him that she remembered, though not fondly. "This might be something like that, at least until the tow truck arrives."

"I knew the migraine was different this time. I just don't understand where this bug came from."

"You were around children all weekend. What do you expect?"

• • •

Blair slept in the backseat of the car while Dakota kept watch. She put her head in his lap and tried to ignore the gurgling in her tummy. Again, Dakota came to the rescue and gently rubbed the warm skin of her belly.

He wasn't sure how long he traced circles and lines over her stomach, but it was long enough for the sun to begin setting. He made a game out of spelling different words with his fingertips. In invisible ink, he wrote words like 'love' and 'Blair' and 'dildo'.

Occasional gurgles emanated from her belly. Dakota worried that Blair would bolt upright and tell him to pull over as if the day would repeat itself. But she stayed asleep. Her expression softened in her slumber.

Amazingly, she only woke up when Dakota moved to greet the tow truck driver. With the plan settled, he returned to the car.

"Honey." Dakota shook her awake. "We're going home now."

By the time Blair came to her senses, the car was ready to be hitched to the truck.

This was bad. Blair paced along the road, bitting her nails. She watched the car be lifted partially off its wheels. This was very bad. The driver spoke to Dakota and then went into the truck. Very very bad.

Sleep was good, but her belly did not like being awake. Suddenly the nausea came rushing back. The headache was gone, but the virus had nowhere near run its course.

"Babe, you ready?" Dakota called. She did not move. He came closer. "Honey, are you alright?"

With tears in her eyes, she shook her head. "I'm going to throw up in the car. I can't. I feel really sick again."

"Okay, okay, no worries." Dakota tried to calm her down. "I'll explain the situation to the driver and he'll understand."

Something wet and horrid squirmed in Blair's stomach; it was the dread of driving in a gross truck while feeling like this. But it was also the very real bug that filled her throat with nausea.

"Please don't make me do this, Kota." She covered her mouth to hide a wet burp, but she could not keep the moan from escaping. "I don't feel good."

She was losing colour by the second. Dakota felt like he was approaching a timid animal. "Okay, we can wait. It's fine."

"I don't like this. I don't wanna--urp--throw up again." She paced with her hand glued tightly to her mouth. Her legs shook and her back spasmed with the need to lurch forward. She felt the gag rising from the pit of her belly.

Dakota touched her arm. "Baby, just let yourself be sick. The man can wait. And if you need to throw up in the truck, just do it. I'll tip him well."

She shook her head.

"I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen." He started to gather her hair in his hand. "That's it. Lean over. I've got you." She moved her hand away and retched emptily. It was like her belly was shy as well. "Let it happen, Bee."

Maybe it was Dakota's hand on her back or the fact that she wanted this day to be over, but Blair gave in to her need. She relaxed her muscles just long enough for them to squeeze tight once more when the sick came rushing out of her mouth.

"Good job," Dakota said. "Five stars. Encore."

Blair gave an encore, not that she could help it. She would not have given it five stars.

In the end, Dakota's encouragements are what saved the day. She felt secure enough in her tummy to get in the tow truck. Dakota did indeed explain the situation just in case, but it was not needed. Nor was the bag needed. Thank God. The truck had three seats in the front. Blair hid herself behind Dakota who took the middle. It was a long drive, but a clean one.

"I'm sorry this happened, Blair," Dakota said softly when they were five minutes from their house. "How are you feeling, now?"

Haha I totally planted that in the hopes that someone would ask about it! Anyway, a year later here's the fic.

There's kinda a surprise at the end of this, and it's not heavy on emeto, but still fun to write! Glad my brain cooperated enough.

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The first time Jory got a red tattoo, he decided—like a reckless buffoon—to get his entire back done up with inky black tendrils surrounding red eyeballs. It was from his favourite anime, depicting a character ironically called Pride. Like a prideful son of a bitch, he convinced himself that he was immune to the common side-effects of red ink. 

Well, it turns out he wasn’t. Only the red parts of the tattoo remained inflamed and itchy as hell for months. The red eyeballs swelled beneath his skin, creating a monstruous image that he did not ask for, at least until the reaction calmed down. Luckily for Jory, his body adapted to the colour and eventually everything settled properly. It wasn’t so much an allergy to the red, but a temporary reaction. But those six months were hell: an apt punishment for the deadly sin. 

Now, whenever he tattooed another person with red ink, he made sure that the first attempt was small. On most occasions it didn’t matter because clients came in with perfectly healed red ink from years ago. This was the case with the girl at his next session. 

“You’re hundo percent sure you had no issues with red before?” he asked the girl during the consult. She wanted cherry blossoms down her neck which required all the reds, pinks, whites, and browns. He was excited about the design.

“Yes, dude, I promise. It healed perfectly,” she assured him. “I’d show you, but I’d have to take off my jeans and I—”

“I believe you,” Jory cut in. “I have an opening in two weeks.” 

Two weeks later, Kaida was sat in his chair, ready to get her neck pricked by a cherry blossom. At least it wasn’t roses. 

“Kaida’s a sick name. How’d you get it?” Jory asked at the beginning of the four-hour session. He was happy to have eaten a big meal before starting this. He certainly wasn’t hungry, not with food grumbling in his belly. 

“It’s Japanese for ‘little dragon’. My parents wanted something different.” She had no issues talking in the beginning because the tattoo started behind her ear. The vibrations rattled her head, but it was less painful than some of her other ones. 

“Love that! I’ll tattoo a little dragon for you anytime.” Jory swallowed his excitement and a hint of acid reflux. “Were you born in Japan?” 

“No, but my parents were.” Kaida went on to explain her family life. 

This was Jory’s favourite part about being an artist: forcing people to share their life stories while trapped in a chair and suffering mild pain. Just kidding, but he liked getting to know people. Kaida had a cool sort of confidence and chill demeanour. She reminded him of Dev, in the way she carried herself, knowing her worth. 

That afternoon, it was hard to focus on his client’s chit chat because his stomach was vocal enough for the both of them. He wondered if Kaida could hear the wet sounds of digestion coming from his belly. 

On top of the increasing stomach-ache, the neck was a shit place to tattoo. It looked freakin sick, but the angle was killer. Jory couldn’t find a comfortable position. The angle was wonky and made for poor lighting. He didn’t know where exactly to put his hands and he kept worrying that he was going to crush her windpipe. Dev kept a close eye on him during this session for all these reasons.

Jory’s watchful mentor was never far. Dev talked to customers as people came into the shop, but mostly they hovered around him and Kaida. They helped out by replenishing paper towel and picking up inky ones from the floor. 

It didn’t take long for Dev to notice Jory’s unease. There was tension in his jaw that wasn’t normally there. His Adam’s apple bobbed excessively every few minutes. The poor guy looked pale and sweaty. They knew he wasn’t feeling the best when he started suppressing burps. 

Root beer had been a bad idea before a session. The carbonation turned Jory’s stomach into a sudsy bath of sugar and grease. He felt pressure build up in his throat but didn’t want to let it out while being so close to Kaida’s face. 

Whenever he reached back to fill the machine with more ink, he took longer than necessary to let out the sour belches that bubbled in his stomach. He exhaled, trying to blow the smell of his chicken sandwich away from Kaida. 

With the linework done, Jory went back to behind her ear to do the shading, giving Kaida a chance to talk more freely. “What do you do for fun?” he asked her, hoping she could fill the silence and mask the sound of his nauseous tummy. Her long black hair was done up in a tight bun to keep it out of the way, but he could still smell coconut shampoo. It was only slightly assaulting to his senses. 

Kaida cracked a big smile. “My girlfriend and I are learning to crochet together. I suck at it, but she’s good. I tried to make a cat and now the beast haunts her boss’s office at work.” 

Jory laughed, the movement jostling his sick tummy. A burp filled his cheeks, but he swallowed it. “Hopefully she’s a vet or something and they can fix the unholy cat?” 

“No!” Kaida chuckled, trying to keep still. “She works at a dietician’s office. I should have crocheted a fucking carrot instead.” 

Jory had to laugh, but this time he couldn’t keep the belch from coming up. It interrupted his laugh with a wet sound that gurgled in his throat. He quickly pulled back from her face. “Jeez. Sorry, babes.” 

“You good, dude?” 

“Probably…” He covered his mouth with his wrist to burp again. “Frick, my stomach feels like a bubble bath.” Jory felt the blood drain from his face, his skin going grey like a colourless tattoo. 

Kaida didn’t know how to act. “What does that mean?” 

Dev came around the corner then. “It means he’s tapping out.” They grabbed Jory’s shoulder and told him to stand. “Come on, take off your gloves and get some air.” 

“I’ll be back in a jiffy, Kaida,” Jory said, stumbling away.

Dev scoffed. “It’ll be longer than a fucking jiffy, girl. You can stand up and take a break. You sat really well by the way. Jory just doesn’t know when to stop.” 

Dev led Jory outside where the brisk air brought some colour back to his features. Sadly, it didn’t fix the issue. They watched him lean over and burp up a small wave of sick onto the pavement. 

The belches kept coming, forcing up pathetic amounts of frothy saliva and bile. Jory closed his eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment on Dev’s face or the chewed-up pieces of chicken on the ground. He wished Dev would go back inside, but apparently, they wanted to soak up his misery for a while longer.

When Jory’s stomach finally settled, he looked back to see Dev leaning against the wall with their arms crossed over their chest. “You better not pull this shit again, Jory. If you feel sick, you stop.” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t. I just need you to understand that this girl’s neck is literally on the line. Let’s ignore the fact that you could make a mistake on a very visible part of her body, but not only that—in there needs to be a perfectly clean environment.” 

Dev sighed when they saw the look on Jory’s face. He got the message loud and clear. He was a dog with his tail between his legs. And he still looked fucking beat. “How are you feeling?” 

Jory kept his gaze away from them. “Better.”  

“Were you too embarrassed to say anything? I could have helped.” 

“It just happened so fast. I thought I was fine.” 

Dev pushed off against the wall and came to lay a hand on Jory’s arm. “Me and the other artists are here to help. You don’t need to convince yourself you’re fine if you’re not. I’ll finish up with Kaida.” 

“What about Kaida?” Just then a shorter woman with bouncy brown hair walked up to the shop. “That’s my girlfriend. I’m here to pick her up.” This girl was all smiles and curls.” 

Jory cocked his head to the side. “We need more time for Kaida’s sess.” He only hoped she wouldn’t see the puddle of sick on the floor. “Do I know you? You look mad familiar.” 

“Um, I don’t know.” She gave Jory an awkward smirk. “My name is Piper. I’m an Aries.” 

Dev chuckled. “Oh right, Piper the Aries. Remember, Jory?” The sarcasm might have escaped Piper, but not Jory. 

He shook his head. “I guess it’s a mystery. Come on in. I’m Jory.” 

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

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A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time. 

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof. 

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes. 

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark. 

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.” 

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too. 

“I need a 73 to pass the class.” 

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.” 

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam. 

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate. 

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.” 

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach. 

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.” 

“I know.” 

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?” 

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.” 

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters. 

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?” 

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers. 

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.” 

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.” 

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.” 

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.” 

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed. 

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake. 

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point. 

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.” 

“It won’t go away until the exams do.” 

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.” 

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.” 

“I want to.” 

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.” 

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.” 

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season. 

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone. 

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene. 

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own. 

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together. 

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum. 

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly. 

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level. 

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background. 

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him. 

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. 

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain. 

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle. 

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well. 

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to. 

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone. 

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty. 

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat. 

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down. 

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva. 

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face. 

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap. 

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams. 

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick. 

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.” 

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver. 

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process. 

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.” 

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues. 

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit. 

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.” 

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.” 

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.” 

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?” 

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”  

A prank caller plays simi feeding trigger sounds and causes a simi to empty right there at work. Thank goodness his boss is understanding!

It was a quiet tuesday at the restaurant, and Jax was in the back folding napkins for tables. There wasn't much else to do, what with the single elderly patron in the front enjoying their daily coffee and pastries. Considering how busy the place was going to get come evening, he was glad for the lull.

The front phone rang after a while. Jax got up and headed over, picking up the phone just as his boss emerged from her closet-sized office. "Fig Garden italian restaurant, how can I help you?"

There was a long pause. "Yes, hi. I'd like to make a reservation."

"Wonderful sir, and how many people will be in your party?" he listened and jotted down the information as he held the phone with his shoulder. "Four people, got it. And what time would you like to make a reservation for?"

This time the pause was longer and Jax thought he heard giggling somewhere on the call. "Pardon, I couldn't make that out?" he asked, staying polite. His boss, a simi just a hair taller than him, looked over.

"Umm. Make it a seven o clock reservation. I'm just so hungry." The caller's voice pulled into a long whine that made heat bloom in Jax's abdomen. His secondary stomach suddenly felt heavy. But, maintaining his politeness, he gave them the benefit of the doubt and pressed on, swallowing hard. "Ah, s-seven? Alright-" he was interrupted by more noises, and realized with a churn in his gut that this was a prank call.

Some simi are easily triggered by high pitched sounds. More whining that sounded just like someone needing to be fed emanated from the phone, followed by loud, gassy gurgling. Jax felt his secondary stomach instantly react, clenching and preparing to empty. Oh, no. "Sir, if you -- urp! If you're not going to make a g-genuine reservation...." he hiccuped again and swallowed hard. The warm weight in his belly wanted out, making his mouth water. "Th-then I'm going to have to hang up."

"Oh, I'm sorry, please don't hang up." the caller kept giggling and making those sounds. Jax groaned and put the phone down, pressing both hands to his mouth.

"You okay, Jax?" his boss asked, confused. Jax had never had a problem keeping his secondary stomach under control before, but now....he was leaned against the counter, body jerking in suppressed heaves, as his overactive tummy tried to puke everything up.

"I --ghlll!" he almost choked on the slurry as it suddenly filled his cheeks to bulging. The sounds kept echoing in his head, driving the urge to empty to seething heights. His stomach pulsed with nauseous heat. It was all too much. Jax doubled over with a guttural belch and spewed off-white slurry all over the floor. It dripped from his lips and soaked into his apron. Jax's head spun with the fuzzy pleasure every simi felt from vomiting. It urged him to keep getting sick, more and more, until he was empty.

His boss sighed, realizing he really couldn't help it. She pulled the trashcan closer and helped Jax over it. "There you go, just get it up." she told him. Jax yawned, sticking his tongue out, before making a little sound in the back of his throat and letting go another gush of milky puke. "I - I'm so sorry -- urrrp! It was....it was some caller, th-they-" his legs shook, heat sparking through him, and was interrupted by more vomit. "They made these sounds, and I-"

"Oh. A prank caller?" his boss shook her head sympathetically. "I've had to deal with a few of those. One caught me off guard at home." she patted his back hard to help him get up the last few gushes. "I heard that gurgling and the next thing I knew, puking everything onto myself. God damn instincts."

In which Luke Skywalker is cockblocking everyone, Poe Dameron is the Battle Slut of the Republic, and screwball comedy comes to the galaxy far, far away.

Chapter two! Summarised as:

Jess: poe no