#puke without plot

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Madix’s stomach tried its hardest to digest the sludge of food that he had forced down his throat all that day. It wasn’t his fault—the nachos had such bubbly warm cheese that called his name, and the burger had caramelized onions that begged him to approach. Now all the grease and sugar coated his gut in a layer of grime. His tummy burbled sickeningly as it attempted to deal with the overwhelm that a day at the fair had caused.  

He staggered next to Dakota who seemed to be dealing with the food expertly. He had been a fool to think that he could keep up with his best friend. The man was a pro at putting away every dish they came across. 

Poutine, easy. Ice cream, no problem. He simply sighed contently after every bite that got Madix feeling more and more like a zombie. 

It was a struggle to pick up his feet, but he had to keep up, or else Riley and Blair would run off into the crowd, never to be seen again with their significant others. 

At least Dakota hung back with him, even if it was because he kept getting distracted by the food vendors and not because he noticed Madix’s deteriorated state. He jumped excitedly in line for a beaver tail. 

Madix swallowed thickly as he came to stand next to his friend. The Canadian treat gave off the sickly-sweet aroma of syrups and cheesecake. The people around them carried their oversized pastries that dripped with thick white frosting or a drizzling of rich chocolate. 

“I think I want the brownie one!” he said, pointing to the sign ahead. “It has Nutella on it! Do you want to split it with me?” 

Madix moaned and jammed his head into Dakota’s shoulder. “…. Ugh.” 

“Okay fine, jeez? How about the strawberry cheesecake?”

"Noooo..."

He gave his arm a jerk. “Why you sound so mopey, Maddy?” 

“Too much food…” he slurred out. His chest hitched with a hiccup. The nausea made all his muscles stiff. “I don’t feel good. How can you still be hungry?” 

“Classic mistake.” Dakota pulled his greenish friend into a side hug. “We’ve moved beyond our primitive needs. Hunger has nothing to do with it anymore. It’s all about the experience.” 

“Oh, I think I’m in for a doozy of an “experience” any minute now.” 

Dakota chuckled at first, but then quickly wondered how much Madix was joking. The boy next to him swayed with fatigue. His eyelids were droopy as if his full stomach were weighing every part of him down. Personally, he felt only the beginnings of fullness, but Madix was nearing the end of his limits it seemed. 

He took off his sunglasses, only then realizing how quickly the sun had set. The sky was now purple and pink, and Madix’s cheeks were grey. “You do look pale, buddy. Maybe take a break from the rides and food.” 

“Yeah, I think I have to. I’d like to sit down as well, but I don’t want to lose Riley and Blair.” 

Dakota waved this away. “I’ll text Blair that we stopped for a break. Look, we can sit under that tree, there’s a bench.” 

Dakota ate his pastry happily while next to him Madix wondered what was going on with his belly. He was full, but this level of nausea was intense. If he were at home, he’d most likely be on the bathroom floor by now. Here, he was not sure how far a walk the nearest bathroom was. Instead, he would focus on keeping the food down until he had time to digest. 

Dakota was not helping with the way he devoured the chocolate mess of dough and oil.  

“Ugh, Kota. I want to go home. I think I may actually throw up, but there’s a lot of people here.” He hugged his belly.

“You feel that bad?” The sudden development surprised him. “I’ve seen you eat way more."

“I don’t know why…” Madix burped and let out a nauseous moan. “I just feel really fucking sick.” He glanced at his friend with his glassy eyes. “Would you hurry up and eat that already. It’s dripping onto your hand.” 

Dakota licked the precarious drop of icing. “It’s messy, I’m sorry.” After three huge bites and finger licking, he finished the treat in time to see Madix shudder and gag. 

Madix suddenly stood up on shaky legs. This was bad. He could feel pressure growing in his throat. Rising. 

“Oh God, I can’t keep it down.” He tried to speak through the nausea and the hand that covered his mouth. “One second.” He wandered away from the main road, away from the bench where they sat, and beyond the fenced in grass. 

Dakota quickly followed his swaying friend. 

“Oookay, I guess we’re going on a little excursion.” He grimaced at the retch that tore up Madix’s throat. He grabbed his friend’s arm to steady him. “This is a good spot to let loose, Maddy. I’ve got you.” 

A shower of vomit came gushing from Madix’s mouth. It was orange and frothy. His poor belly squeezed in on itself tighter. Another mouthful of greasy mush added to the puddle at his feet. He felt the muscles in his back tense continuously as the heaves sent him forward. 

A groan of misery escaped him. 

Dakota kept a firm grip on his woozy friend. It was odd to see him so weak. Every gag pushed him around like a puppet dangling on a string. “Kneel here, Madix. You’re swaying a lot and I don’t like it.” 

“Don’t feel good,” he slurred. A hiccup made his chest jump and more slushy vomit splattered onto the grass. The sound gurgled in his throat. “Ugh, my belly. I’m so full.” 

Wave after wave came up from Madix’s upset belly. It was relentless and slow. Whenever he thought he was finished, the nausea shot back through his body. Droplets of sweat coated his forehead, dampening the strands of hair that hung in front of his eyes. 

Dakota brushed the hair off his forehead. It was not a hot night and yet still Madix was melting. “You’re so out it, man. I think you have a fever.” 

Madix nodded lazily. “Yeah probably. This is a lot.” He blinked quickly. “I can’t focus long enough to…to…do anything.” 

“You don’t have to do anything but sit. Wait until you feel better. Do you still need to puke?” 

“I think so.” He rubbed his stomach. “It’s like gurgling, my belly. This was not a good time to eat fair food.” 

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?"

Hi anon! Thanks for the beautiful request and your infinite patience. 💙

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The only reservation they could make was at 9pm. It was a little late for Blair and Dakota’s liking since they both had work early the next morning, but they booked it anyway because they were craving sushi and conversation with each other after a long day at the office. 

The sushi was cold and refreshing, while their conversation was warm and relaxing. Dakota and Blair reminisced over their first few dates while eating sashimi, spicy salmon salad, and sushi pizza. Blair laughed but enjoyed the Canadian invention of making sushi mimic pizza. A fried rice patty acted as the bread, with avocado, crab meat, mayonnaise and wasabi acting as the toppings. 

They didn’t linger in the city for long after dinner. Their bed was calling to both of them by the time they cleaned their plates. Blair could have fallen asleep at the table, with the big meal rumbling in her belly. She got that sluggish over-stuffed feeling from all the food. After taking a swig of water to help her stomach digest, she burped deeply into the empty glass. She excused herself with an embarrassed laugh. 

Together they stumbled up to the front door of their home, drunk on the lethargic feeling of eating too much. The growing nausea also reminded Blair of late-night drinking. Her cheeks felt hot and the fatigue in her bones made her wobble like an alcoholic. 

Blair let out a heavy sigh as she fell onto the bed next to Dakota. Rubbing her full belly she said, “This is why I don’t like eating too close to bedtime. There’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep like this.” She was all bloated and squirmy, wiggling on the bed to find a comfortable position. 

Dakota pulled her in close, seemingly determined to make her comfy. “I can rub your belly until you fall asleep.” He supressed the urge to say that he would rub something else and glide his hand passed her belly button, because he sensed that she was feeling more than a little full. Her tummy grumbled loudly, and she curled in on herself. He could feel the organ moving beneath his hand. Gurgles and light vibrations tickled his palm. 

Blair pushed her back up against Dakota’s chest so that he spooned her. “Will you rub in big circles like you did the last time? Felt good.” 

“Sure.” Dakota chuckled softly into her hair, then shooed the strands away that tickled his nose. “You fell asleep fast when I did that.”

“Let’s hope I do this time.” She burped into the pillow. “Mm, it’s late. I don’t like feeling so full.” 

“Shh, just focus on the feeling of my hand on your tummy. Nothing else.” Dakota flattened his palm against her midriff. He circled all the way up to ger ribs and down to the waistline of her pajama pants, occasionally using his fingertips to add a light touch. 

Blair must not have found his touch so light because she started to burp as soon as he made one circle around her middle. Her stomach tensed with each build up and release of gas. She shivered, tasting the memory of spicy sushi in the back of her throat. She was glad to be facing away from her boyfriend. 

The belches just kept coming. Some were long and deep; others were quick but painful. It didn’t matter the size or intensity in the burps—nothing was making the indigestion go away. Dakota must have sensed her frustration because he gave her tummy a good push. The burp rumbled up from the pit of her stomach and splashed the back of her throat with a something spicy and unpleasant. She immediately shot up into a sitting position, slapping a hand over mouth. Acid reflux and nausea crawled up her throat. 

“Sorry, honey.” Dakota pulled his hand back fast. The sound that gurgled in her throat made him worry that he nearly just made her puke. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make it worse.” 

Blair waited a beat before answering. Her throat moved as she swallowed down the close call. “I’m okay. It kinda helped.” 

Blair’s pale face and wide eyes gave Dakota a moment’s hesitation. “You sure? It looked like you were about to be sick.” 

“For a second I thought—but no I’m fine.” She shook her head to shake off the lingering nausea. It was true, she did almost lose her dinner all over the bed, but then everything settled down just as fast. The massive belch at least helped to bring up the trapped air. She could feel the indigestion losing its grip. 

“Really?” he asked, still on high-alert and propped up on his elbows. He abandoned his comfy spot when Blair jumped up. 

“Yes, really.” She placed her hand on his chest, easing him onto his back again. “I might be able to sleep now. But to make up for scaring me, I get to lie on your chest.” She was already beginning to find a soft spot between his shoulder and pec, and avoiding his collar bone that sometimes dug into her cheek. After many many nights of sleeping this same way, she knew what would feel best. 

“Come here.” Dakota nuzzled his face into her neck and pulled her as close as he possibly could, just short of letting her sleep inside his skin. 

• • •

Blair awoke the next morning to the absolute worst taste in her mouth and dried drool on her pillow. She peeled her face off the pillow with squinting eyes that were still adjusting to the sunlight coming in from the window. She felt like she had the flu or something. Her stomach ached as if it were pumped full of rotting food—in a way, it kind of was. It seemed her stomach hadn’t done any digesting while she slept. It simply let last night’s dinner soak and marinate in stomach acid. On top of it all, her belly was still bloated and gurgling painfully. 

Dakota must have gotten up earlier because his side of the bed was empty. Blair hoped she could shake him awake, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen. 

Shouting for him was not an option when her mouth began to fill with saliva. All that food from last night was coming up now. She didn’t have to time to throw off the blankets before a deep belch burst from her mouth. Blair gagged from the taste that coated her tongue—fishy and spicy, and not something she ever wanted to experience again. 

Thick strings of saliva dripped off her lips as she continued to burp and gag. 

Dakota’s whistling came clearly from down the hall. Blair was happy to have him near when she inevitably puked everywhere, but she was sorry that his first look at her that morning would be of her hunched over, hugging her belly, and gagging on the bed. 

“Baby?” Dakota knocked on the ajar door. “What’s that sound? Are you—Oh shit.” Dakota scrambled for something to do as he watched Blair burp up a wave of old, clumpy sushi onto the blankets. 

The sick fell like mush past Blair’s lips. The texture alone was enough to make her heave again. She choked up another mouthful of vomit onto the bed. She held onto the duvet so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Fuck honey,” Dakota said gently as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. He helped her sit up straighter and rubbed her back. Big circles. Big circles between her shoulder blades and on her lower back until she was able to catch her breath. 

“Ugh, I’m not done.” she sniffled and wiped the bile that dripped from her lips. “My belly’s so full still.” 

“Do you want a bucket or—” Dakota began but was cut off by Blair belching up another stream of puke. “Oh…nevermind.” He sighed and continued to rub her back. “That’s alright. Get it all up.” 

Blair burped up all of last night’s meal until she felt like there was nothing left in her tummy. The organ still ached and groaned even when she brought up the last small wave of partially digested rice and yellow bile. She coughed and sniffled like a mad woman until falling forward and letting her head hit Dakota’s chest. 

He quickly enveloped her in a hug. “Oh Bee, that’s not a good way to start the day. Your poor tummy,” Dakota cooed as he slipped his hand under her shirt. With the softest touch, he let his hand fall back into the rhythm of big circles. 

Blair allowed herself a few moments to contemplate death inside the hug, until she scrunched up her nose and pulled away from her boyfriend. “Ugh Kota, I have to get up before the smell makes me puke again.” 

“What smell?” 

“Shut up, this is fucking disgusting.” 

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” 

Blair shoved him off the side of the bed. It was nice of him to pretend like nothing was wrong, but she really would spend the entire morning dry heaving if she didn’t start cleaning. The one good thing about this whole mess was that her stomach would start feeling better now that it was empty; she just had to get away from the puke that was soaking into the blankets. 

Dakota helped her wrap up the blanket, ensuring that nothing spilled. Afterword they had the unavoidable debate over whether Blair should attempt to go into the office. It was no surprise that Dakota argued strongly for her to stay home. 

“Baby, you’re going to be shaking and nauseous all day. I know you.” He said adamantly. “I promise you’ll be refreshed and ready to girlboss tomorrow if you take the day to feel better.” 

“But I’m not even sick sick.” 

“You threw up at least three times. By my count that sick sick sick.” 

Blair sighed at his ridiculousness. “Why are you like this?”

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.

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

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?”  

Inspired by THIS post, and here's a little snapshot of it:

A and B are in an extremely formal situation where they are required to stand for long periods of time.

A has been running a pretty nasty fever since the night before, but they both HAVE to be there (think of a social event that will impact their whole career, so they really have no choice but to go).

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

Sometimes Micah felt sick over the idea of being an adult. The very concept of taxes made him want to puke. And as life would have it, the one night when he was excited about being grown and taking on new responsibilities was the night when he felt like puking for real. This wasn’t the psychosomatic queasiness that came from paying his bills; it was the type of queasiness that came from a bug in his digestive track. 

He'd been up all night with Alexi. His lovely, perfect boyfriend had sat with him on the bathroom floor while he vomited and dry heaved for hours. Now, that same lovely, perfect boyfriend stood with him at the thirtieth anniversary for Phoenix Fire Press. That was the publishing company that was going to publish Micah’s very first novel. This evening was a big deal, not just because it was a milestone for the medium company, but because they were opening their business to new potential shareholders. Micah had been given an invitation to attend the event in hopes that he would invest in his future at the publishing company. 

The one downside was that the talk of owning shares and how that whole process worked came at the end of the evening. First, they had to celebrate the many new authors who had joined them in the past year, Micah included. 

The night dragged on for quite some time. Micah couldn’t say how long because his sense of reality was altered by the heat in his brain. He saw mirages everywhere he looked, like blurry lines of text or the sweet promise of his bed. He must have caught his head from rolling off his shoulders a million times. 

“Oh, good, you’re still conscious,” Alexi said as he came back to Micah, holding glasses of water. “I thought I’d come back and find you on the floor.” 

Micah could not remember what sarcasm even was, therefore, he did not return the jest. “Lexi, how long have we been here?” 

Alexi almost—almost—spilled the water all over himself when he turned his wrist to check his watch. But he caught himself in time, placing the glasses down on a ledge before seeing that they’d been at the event for a little over an hour. He told Micah this who simply groaned. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Alexi gently rubbed his thumb over Micah’s flushed cheek. His skin was hotter than phoenix fire. “The fever reducers aren’t working, eh?” 

“No,” Micah grumbled as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. None of the meds he took were helping. The nausea hadn’t lessened and neither had he aches in his body. He was just a blob of pain and useless medication that floated thickly through his bloodstream. 

They’d gotten to the event late (on account of Micah needing to retch emptily on the side of the road), meaning there was only standing room available. All the tables had been taken. It seemed the Press hadn’t bet on this many people showing up. But they were a reputable company that would only go up; it was no wonder that many people were interested in owning shares. Micah had been ecstatic about the idea of investing in something that he was passionate about. He loved the publishers, and editors, and marketing team at Phoenix Fire Press. He wanted to grow with them. He wanted to recreate himself with this opportunity. This was an adult opportunity that he was ready to take on. 

But all he wanted was to curl up in his bed and cry. He didn’t feel very adult in that moment, with his aching tummy. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the next, trying to remain upright and sooth the aches from standing so long. The balance needed to do this was not there, and twice and had to catch himself before he fell. His vision darkened at the edges with each attempt. Micah put his hand over his eyes and moaned. 

“Micah, you’re shaking,” Alexi whispered from behind him. 

“I can’t do this any longer.” His voice wobbled with emotion. 

Suddenly Micah felt Alexi’s hands on his waist. He let himself be pulled back against his boyfriend’s chest. It was strong and secure; he could so easily let go of the tension in his shoulder if he…could…just…

“It’s okay. Lean on me,” Alexi whispered in his ear. His breath was warm on Micah’s neck. The poor sick boy shivered despite the heat that Alexi felt radiating off his back. He swore he could see the air make lazy waves around them. 

Micah didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped his shoulders, let his head fall back against Alexi’s chest just under his chin, and allowed himself to be enveloped in his boyfriend’s embrace. Some tension sloughed off his muscles. His eye closed immediately, and the sound of the event became a distant white noise.

But before he gave in entirely, he craned his neck to get Alexi’s attention. A kiss on his temple let him know that he had it. “Give me a nudge when they start talking about the shareholders.” 

“I will.” Alexi’s lips fluttered softly over his temple. “Just relax. I’ve got you.” 

Alexi was pleased with the heavy weight that settled in his arms. It meant that his boyfriend got a small rest, even if it wasn’t of the best quality. He wouldn’t feel much better until he could lie down for real, close his eyes, and forget about the world. But this was a start. 

While Micah drooped, his fever rose. It burned in his face, turning his cheeks into red roses. Little blooms of heat sprouted beneath his eyes. Alexi worried that Micah would burn up into ashes, and that he wouldn’t rise again. He’d been so sick all last night and throughout the day. He was surprised that Micah had enough fluid left in his body to turn his eyes glassy, what with all the sweating and vomiting and diarrhea. This bug was testing him, but he knew that Micah would pull through. 

But just then, Micah didn’t have the energy to keep pushing. Alexi could feel his boyfriend slipping in and out of consciousness. He shifted and repositioned himself so that he could keep Micah from slouching or crumpling to the floor. 

They went on like this for another twenty minutes, until the MC announced that the company was moving into a new stage. Interested parties were encouraged to listen and consider becoming new shareholders. The press had received three impressive grants which allowed for development and expansion. They wanted all their clients and peers to consider taking a chance on the business. Together they would grow exponentially over the next thirty years. There was much talk about rebirth and protentional and fiery passion. Of course, a bunch of literarily nerds would lean heavily into the metaphor. 

Speaking of leaning heavily, Alexi nudged his boyfriend awake. “Honey, this is it. We’re almost done.” 

“Is it time?” 

“It is.” 

Alexi helped Micah to stand up straight on his own. They stood now face to face. Micah’s face was sweaty and flushed, but also ready to wear a mask of health. Micah blinked hard, rolled his shoulder to wake up his sore muscles, and kept his head high. Alexi only saw the smallest knit in his eyebrow because he knew of the many emotions that ran through his boyfriend’s mind. 

“Micah, I know you’re nervous about the future, but I also know this is right. You’re going to grow as a writer and as member of this team. It’s scary starting something new, but I’ll be with you for the whole thing.”

Micah sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank you for supporting my decisions. It feels easier with you here.”

Alexi kissed him on the nose. “Go on. I’ll be here when you get back, unless of course you want me to come?” 

“No, I want to start this on my own. I’ll tell you all about it later.” 

“Sure.” Alexi had a pretty good hunch that later meant much later. 

And his hunch turned out to be right, because his boyfriend returned nearly an hour later, frazzled by the social interaction and exhausted from the ache in his bones. He shuffled his feet on the floor, looking like a zombie who had no business being in a nice suit at a fancy meeting. 

Well, the meeting was over, and judging by Micah’s expression of relief, it went as well as it could have. Things were in motion now and their shared financial future was tied to a company that Micah was proud to work with. 

The light in the halls dimmed and brightened in time with the beating of Micah’s sluggish heartbeat. As he walked back to his boyfriend, happy about leaving soon, the beating in his chest got stronger and faster. He felt sweat prickle the back of his neck and nausea bubble in his stomach. As soon as he was within arm’s reach of his boyfriend, he let the veneer of health crack and slip from his face, a grimace of pain and discomfort contorting his features.

Alexi hugged Micah to his chest. “Oh, baby, you’re so sick. Can you make it to the car?” 

Micah shook his head and mumbled into Alexi’s neck. “I’m gonna throw up.” 

With the gurgling growing louder in Micah’s tummy, he felt himself being pulled to the washroom. As expected at the end of a big event, the washrooms were flooded with people milling around. Micah moaned and covered his mouth with his hand. 

“Come on, this way,” Alexi said quickly, pulling his boyfriend along.

They hoped over a thick velvet rope that was meant to block guests from going to the second floor. Screw the fancy obnoxious rope with its condescending sign; Alexi wasn’t about to let Micah embarrass himself in front of the people he just attached his future to. 

The second floor was closer to heaven than any skyrise because it was peacefully quiet and the washroom was unlocked, Halleluiah! Without another soul around, Micah was able to get sick in peace. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and retched up bile and blue Gatorade. It was all he’d been able to force down his throat before the start of the event. The yellow and blue fluids coming up from his stomach made for an odd sight in the toilet, not that Micah had his eyes open to appreciate the science of colour. 

“There you go, baby.” Alexi rubbed his boyfriend’s burning hot back. “You did so well tonight.” 

“Did I miss it?” Micah slurred out with saliva dripping from his lips. 

“Miss what?” 

“The share thingy.” A yes, the most adult sentence Micah had said the entire night. “It’s gonna start soon I think.” 

“No, no love. You didn’t miss anything. Everything is okay.” Alexi ran his hands worriedly over the sweat stains that dripped down Micah’s spine. Even through the blazer, his fever was raging. “You’ve got to take this off, Micah. Your temperature is soaring.” 

“What if someone comes in?” Micah said after spitting a glob of spit into the toilet. 

“No one will. I’ll watch the door, if that’ll make you feel better,” Alexi promised, already slipping Micah’s arm out of his sleeve. He got the blazer off and started to unbutton his dress shirt before Micah put his hands over his. “What is it, babe? I’ve got to bring your fever down.” 

“Your hands are cold.” Micah shivered. “I’m freezing.” 

“I know.” He kissed the side of Micah’s fiery head. “It’s just your fever playing tricks. Trust me. I’m going to get you through this.” 

Sorry for the long wait! The prompts come from THIS lovely list and I used:

15. "It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it."

38. "Can you lift your head up? Let me wipe your mouth."

93. "You're going to be sick again, aren't you?"

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

Riley was dying of heat beneath the blankets. He tried to free himself from the covers, but Madix had him pinned with his arm draped over the outside of the duvet. Most nights Riley loved being the little spoon. He loved falling asleep inside the tight hug. Madix was like his own personal weighted blanket, providing the right pressure and comfort. And he loved waking up in that same position, knowing that he’d been so safe throughout the night.

He did not, however, love waking up in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat and nauseous like hell. It was his stomach that woke him up in the first place. The organ was aching and grumbling from inside the cocoon of blankets.

He really didn’t feel well. He felt awful in fact. Most of the time he could distinguish between a simple stomach-ache that came from eating too much before bed, and a stomach-ache that that was accompanied by a fever and the very real threat of throwing up. That night it was the latter.

This was the type of nausea that prickled his skin and made his jaw quiver. Riley barely had time for his eyes to adjust to the dark before his stomach was screaming at him to run to the bathroom.

But he couldn’t.

But he had to.

So, with panic rising in his chest, Riley awkwardly, and with great effort, pushed Madix away from him. He didn’t have time to feel bad, even when he heard Madix stir and groan, because it was happening now.

“What’re you doing?” Madix mumbled. It had been a decent shove that Riley gave him, so he was quickly coming out of his deep sleep. It was a lovely awakening too because he was greeted by the sound of retching.

Riley didn’t have time to flick off the covers and run to the bathroom like he wanted to. The moment that Madix’s weight came off him, Riley could only lift himself up on his elbows and heave up the content of his stomach onto the sheets. At least Madix’s arm wasn’t in the way anymore.

The sick spilled past his lips in a heavy stream. It coated the sheets and began to run to the places where Riley’s weight pushed down on the mattress. He wanted to move his hand away from the mess, but it was the only thing keeping him up. That was until he felt Madix’s strong grip on his shoulder.

Madix’s eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t need to see all the well to know what was happening. His boyfriend’s body was being taken over by a lurch. Then there was just the sound of vomit forcing its way up Riley’s throat.

“You’re okay,” Madix said, surprising himself with how fast he was able to offer comfort. “I’ve got you.” He never let go of Riley’s shoulder, despite the way Riley's body yanked him forward with each retch. The heat beneath Riley’s clothes was astounding, as was the dampness that ran down his spine. Madix shook his head with worry; he didn’t like it, not one bit.

An empty gag left Riley straining over the pile of sick. Saliva hung from his mouth while he breathed heavily. His belly was cramping so bad that he curled in on himself. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t—it just happened so fast.” The wetness on his hand made him want to repeat the whole thing over again. “Ugh, it’s all over me, Madix. And the bed.”

Madix shushed him. “It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it.”

“I’m really sorry. I’m so nauseous and I couldn’t stop it.”

“It’s fine, love.” Madix reassured him. He still couldn’t see Riley’s face very well in the dark, but he knew that his features were pinched together in guilt and nausea. And probably covered in a thin layer of sweat. “I think you’re running a fever. A bad one, so let’s get you cleaned up and cooled down.”

“Okay…”

Madix turned on the bedside lamp to assess the damage. The damage he cared about was not on the bed. His poor boyfriend stood up slowly and remained slightly hunched from the ache in his belly. He held his messy hands awkwardly up by his chest so he wouldn’t touch anything. His shirt was patchy with dark sweat stains and his cheeks were blotchy with red fever stains.

Madix pouted and cocked his head at him. “Oh baby, look at you. Where did you pick up this bug, I wonder?”

“I don’t know, but I feel awful,” Riley whined as he followed Madix into the bathroom. He let Madix turn on the light and the faucet. Madix pumped soap into Riley’s cupped hands.

A gurgle rippled through Riley’s stomach while he dried his hands, reminding him that he was nowhere near done. He could taste the nausea on his tongue. Madix kept asking him questions about how he was feeling, but the idea of opening his mouth sounded like a bad one.

“Ry, are you with me?” Madix said, trying to get his boyfriend’s attention. Riley had a dazed look on his terribly pale face. “Do you think you can keep down medicine?”

Riley just shrugged. He was having a hard time making sense of words.

Madix sighed. He put his hand on Riley’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. “God, you’re on fire. I have to give you something now.”

Even though he felt like his stomach was a sponge full of liquid, Riley took the pills that Madix gave him with a glass of water. It was only two small pills and sip of water, but his belly hated it. It immediately started to growl at him.

Madix watched as Riley made a weird face after swallowing. “You good?”

Riley shook his head. He really wanted to be able to say that he was fine, but he felt that tingling sensation in his jaw again. A burp started to rise in his throat, so he covered his mouth with his hand as his shoulders rolled forward.

Madix raised his eyebrows at him. “You're going to be sick again, aren't you?” Riley nodded. There was so much guilt in his eyes which Madix couldn’t allow. He wasn’t going to torture his boyfriend into keeping the pills down. He sighed again and ushered Riley to the floor in front of the toilet. “That’s alright. Let it happen.”

The burp that Riley had been resisting, erupted from his mouth. It brought with it a flood of vomit like Riley knew it would. It wasn’t a small amount of sick either. This was only the second wave. His belly spasmed, sending up a gush of vomit that burned his throat.

“Okay, that’s it,” Madix encouraged. “So much for medicine. We’ll try a shower when your stomach settles down.”

Riley gagged over the toilet bowl. It felt like his stomach would never settle down. It was roiling and aching beneath his hand. “Ugh, my belly hurts so bad. I’m so nauseous.” And he went back to heaving up the dinner that he ate before going to bed.

“You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

Madix should not have made that promise. It took a while before Riley felt better. It took a while before his stomach stopped sending up its contents.

When it was over, Riley was drained and weak. He rested his head on the toilet seat as small burps bubbled up from his belly. He didn’t care at this point that bile and saliva were dripping off his mouth as he lay there motionless. The porcelain was no longer cool because his cheeks were radiating heat.

“How’re you doing, babe?” Madix asked, having had enough of sitting on the bathroom floor while his boyfriend moaned through the nausea that never went away. He carefully maneuvered himself away from Riley so that he could stand up and stretch his legs. A long yawn reminded him that it was well into the early hours of the morning now. Since he was up, he grabbed a cloth and ran it under warm water.

“Bad.” Only Riley’s lips moved. The rest of him stayed still.

Ah the one syllable answer, coming from his zombified boyfriend. Madix laughed in spite of himself. He would never have guessed that. He crouched back down next to Riley with the wet cloth in his hand. “Can you lift your head up? Let me wipe your mouth.”

Madix had to help by holding Riley’s chin, but the boy managed to peel his burning cheek off the toilet seat. He cleaned all around Riley’s lips, feeling the same heat living under his skin. “There, you look so pretty.”

Riley’s chin fell to his chest as Madix took his hand away. He slurred out, “You're pretty too.”

“And that’s our cue to get you in the shower.”

Because of how sluggish Riley was, Madix did all the heavy lifting. He helped Riley into the bath since there was no way he could stand up for a shower.

He took off all of Riley’s clothes and sat him down in the tub. Unfortunately, Madix forgot to take off his own clothes and now he was stuck in the tub with Riley’s between his legs.

“This is fine,” he said out loud to himself. “These clothes needed washing anyway.”

“What?” Riley mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Thanks for the request!

From the Sickee list:

18. "Something's wrong. I really don't feel good."

20. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll be okay. You can go back to bed."

29. "Ugh. I'm so nauseous but nothing's happening."

30. "You don't have to sit in here with me."

From the Caretaker list:

1. "You don't have to say you're sorry. You're sick."

14. "I'm not leaving you alone like this."

26. "Lean on me. I got you."

33. "Let me get you a cool cloth."

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

There was ruckus in the kitchen that forced Blair out of bed well before her dream faded from her memory. With the remnants of the made-up story flashing in her mind, she shuffled down the stairs in the dark house. Back up in the room, she thought she had heard cups toppling over and then the horribly worrying sound of glass shattering.

The kitchen wasn’t dark which was what told Blair that the culprit wasn’t mice or thieves. And the noises had definitely not come from her dream. The ruckus was caused by her boyfriend, she realized as she turned the corner.

Dakota was kneeling on the kitchen floor next to a pile of broken glass. He looked half-asleep and wholly alert at the same time. Dark circles rimmed his wide eyes as he tried to pick up the broken cup with a dish towel. He jumped when Blair appeared in his peripheral vision, making him drop the piece he was holding. It broke into even smaller fragments.

“Ah Bee, hi, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he stammered as if he were a child that snuck downstairs to catch Santa in the middle of the night.

Something was wrong. Blair approached slowly so as to not step on hidden shards. But still she stepped closer because something was definitely wrong. Dakota looked pale and agitated. There was pain and confusion scrawled across his features.

Blair successfully maneuvered her way around the explosion of glass and knelt down next to him. “What’s wrong? What are you doing up?” she asked, putting her hand on his arm. His skin was cold and clammy.

“I-I needed a glass of water,” he explained, a little bit calmer now that she was touching him. “But I got really dizzy and nauseous and my head felt weird for a second.”

Blair didn’t like any of this; not the lack of focus in his eyes, not the way he was hunched over in pain, and not the sweat all over his skin. “Alright, you’re okay,” she said, moving down his arm so she could hold his trembling hands. “How are you feeling now? You look really pale, baby.”

“I’m fine now,” Dakota said a little too quickly. It wasn't that Blair thought he was holding anything back, but that he didn’t realize how bad he felt. He didn’t realize how much he was scaring her. “I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll be okay. You can go back to bed.”

Seconds ago, Blair told him that he was okay, but that was a lie. He really wasn’t. “I'm not leaving you alone like this.”

“What do you mean ‘like this’?” he asked. “Really, I just need water and maybe something for nausea.”

“So, you do feel sick.” She couldn’t decide if it was a question or a statement.

He shrugged. “A bit.”

“Okay,” she began firmly. “I’m not leaving you alone, but how about you sit in the bathroom while I clean this up, yeah? Please, you don’t look good, Kota.”

At first it seemed like Dakota would refuse again, but then a grimace of pain flashed over his face. He wrapped his arm around torso and gave a small nod. “Alright.”

“Thank you.” She let go of his other hand while he stood up.

He grabbed the countertop to steady himself, blinking quickly to clear the fuzziness from his vision. “Whoa…”

Blair tensed. “Are you okay? Can you make it by yourself?”

Dakota gave an unconvincing nod that did not inspire confidence in Blair.

“Go slow. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He went slow but the colours around him went even slower. It was like walking through a windstorm and all the lines and colours of the world were being pulled behind him. His head was heavy on his shoulders and his mind was crowded with too many sensations.

He began to feel like he did when first got out of bed. His stomach was churning beneath his hand. A deep sense of vertigo washed over him. His legs did not want to hold him up anymore.

And it was worse once he got to the hallway because the narrow space intensified the tunnel vision. He reached him arms out to the walls and dragged his hands along while he walked.

The walking only last for a few seconds before the falling took over. With a loud thump he fell to the ground on his knees. His vision was inundated with waves of darkness and his stomach was flooded with nausea.

Dakota had no sense of space or direction—he only had one sense and that was of pain. Pain in his belly and his head. He let out a moan.

“Kota?” Blair called out anxiously. Seconds later, she was coming down the hall towards him. “Oh, Kota.” She put her hand on his shuddering back.

On his hands and knees, Dakota breathed heavily. He squeezed his eyes shut as another shot of nausea crashed into him. “Something's wrong. I really don't feel good.”

Blair resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. He finally said exactly what she’d been thinking this whole time. It was a surprise to nobody but Dakota. “Just take it easy, babe. Don’t move until you’re ready.”

He let another moan. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” He quickly covered his mouth when a gag rocked him forward. If Blair hadn’t been holding him, he wouldn’t have been able stay up with only one hand on the floor. He hadn’t thrown up yet but that did little to ease his churning belly. “…help me please.”

Blair got a better hold of him and helped him off the ground. It was a struggle for both. With a huff she said, “Lean on me. I got you.”

With the way his belly was roiling, Dakota assumed that he would throw up as soon as soon as saw the goddamn toilet, but that did not happen. He panted over the bowl for quite some time, letting saliva drip into the water. His head was still spinning, so his aim might have been a little off.

Blair gave him a nudge so that he wouldn’t miss the bowl when he would eventually throw up. At this rate, it didn’t seem like that would happen for some time. He burped and gagged, and still nothing came up. In between empty retches, he rubbed his stomach from beneath his shirt until Blair noticed and took over.

Dakota forced out a cough that did nothing but hurt his throat. He groaned. “Ugh. I'm so nauseous but nothing's happening.”

“It’ll happen if it needs to, babe,” Blair said in an annoyingly calm voice. Dakota didn’t feel calm. He felt dizzy and anxious and tired of waiting. She sensed his frustration, so she said, “Put your head in my lap and try to relax.”

“Will you keep rubbing my stomach?” he asked, already lowering himself to the floor.

Blair chuckled at how adorable he was. “I charge a dollar a minute.”

“That’s an expensive service,” Dakota said sleepily.

“I’m the best in the business.”

She really was the best, Dakota decided as he lay there in her arms. Lying down helped with the vertigo, but not so much with the nausea. With each gurgle, he wondered if he should finally sit up.

Dakota didn’t know what time it was, but he knew that he was tired. And he knew that Blair was tired by the way she yawned every few minutes. Still, the soothing motions across his belly never stopped. He sighed and sat up so that Blair didn’t feel trapped with his head on her legs. “I’m sorry this is taking so long. You don’t have to sit here with me.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. You’re sick,” she said softly. “And I don’t mind staying.”

Blair opened her arms as an invitation for Dakota to lie back down, but he shook his head. He swallowed thickly and scooted closer to the toilet.

“Wow the patience finally paid off.”

“Shh, don’t jinx it,” he said.

Vomiting wasn’t much of a payoff, but it was better than suffering on the bathroom floor to no avail. He forced up a burp to get things going and things moved quickly after that.

The belch turned into a retch that rolled his shoulders. A stream of pale sick came rushing out of his mouth as he lurched forward. Some of that vertigo was back so he closed his eyes. He kept his head hovering above the toilet bowl as another wave rushed up his throat. It came up with a painful choking sound that made Blair wince.

“Easy there, Kota, don’t force it.” She patted his back firmly. “We’ve got all night.”

That wasn’t entirely true because it was already four o’clock in the morning. The pair would have to get up in two hours, but there was no way that Blair would let that happen. She was going to help Dakota back to bed, turn off their alarms, and call in sick for the both of them.

Dakota’s stomach sent up one last bout before settling down. It made him feel lighter, but still just as gross. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh. His damp hair clung to his forehead

“Let me get you a cool cloth,” Blair said, already up on her feet. She kept an eye on Dakota while she ran the cloth under the water. He had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily.

She crouched in front of him and wiped the sweat off his face. “You want to put this on your neck for a while?”

He nodded, so she wet the cloth anew. Dakota let out a sigh when it touched the back on his neck. It made him long to rest his head on his cool pillow. “Uh I’m so tired.”

“I’m going to get you back to bed real soon. Do you need anything else?”