supersecretsickplace

[supersecretsickplace]

Can't Help Falling In Love

Jonah knew he had been manic, nearly downright hysterical as the wedding approached. Between the spooked staff, Leo's endless amusement and his friend and family's annoyance at his state, it was impossible to miss.

So it was much to his surprise that he woke up on the morning of the wedding and realized that he wasn't nervous at all.

Leo was still asleep, snoring softly, and Jonah stared at his face, — arms sandwiching his pillow and his chin resting on his forearm — openly staring as the sunlight streamed inside their suite and bounced off Leo's hair, reflected off his dark blonde lashes.

His cheeks were prickly with the start of a beard and he twitched slightly as Jon ran his thumb over his jaw, tracing the contour of it and his cheekbones.

The sun was too high to be early morning, it must've been at least 9 AM, so he better wake Leo up, as they had a long day ahead of them. He rolled on the bed, scooting as close as possible, and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's naked shoulder, hand wrapping around his wrist, "Leo? Wake up, baby."

Another twitch, Leo's brows met, but he didn't wake up. Jonah shook him just a little, keeping his lips pressed to Leo's overheated skin, "wake up, Mr. Wagner-Banks."

"You can't use that name yet," Leo grumbled, his voice a whole note deeper, eyes still closed, but lips quirking up in a smile, "I heard you're getting married today?"

"I am," Jonah smiled right back, flicking a hair strand away from Leo's eyes as they opened, the blonde blinking several times to get used to how bright the room was, "can you believe some fool agreed to marry me?"

"Some lucky fool," Leo grinned, closing the space between them with a kiss and rolling them on the bed so he could be on top, pushing Jonah against the pillows, "some incredibly lucky fool."

In the end, they were so late for breakfast that the group sent up Wendy, her voice traveling through the door as she knocked and said, "get your asses out here, the photographers are already in the yard!"

----

"Do you have everything?" Leo asked, for the third time, and Vince let out a scoff, meeting Luke's amused glare.

Luke rolled his eyes, leaning back on the chair as he got his makeup done, because although the bruise on his cheek was mostly gone, that wasn't enough for Jonah and he had insisted he wore concealer.

"We have everything, kiddo," Vince moved so he was next to Leo by the window, squeezing his nape in an almost parental manner, "cufflinks are here, brooch too, your suit jacket is hanging behind the door, mints- Hair spray... Oh."

Luke raised an eyebrow, trying to see what had interrupted Vince's listing, but the makeup artist glared at him, "just a second, I'm putting some setting spray on you."

"Alright," he couldn't nod or really move, so all Luke could do was raise his thumbs up as he was sprayed with a fine mist of something that smelt like perfume and cucumbers.

The woman patted his chest, "wait a couple seconds for it to dry and you're all good," she promised, starting to gather up her supplies. She hadn't done much to Leo — probably due to the blonde's sulking — only filled in his brows, applied some skin serums that Luke had no idea what they were and made his cheeks pinker than normal, some pink chapstick despite Leo grumbling about putting on lipstick like a middle aged conservative would.

They weren't alone in the room. There was a team of photographers that came and went at least three times, taking pictures of them as they chatted and had lunch — separated from everyone else, because Jonah apparently was traditional like that —, hanging in the shadows as they got dressed and snapping pictures quietly.

Luke hadn't been in an editorial in so long, it immediately made his mind go back to his teenage years. Every special occasion, the photographers in their house, the same type that didn't ask for specific poses but always seemed to manage to get the few and sparse smiles between them.

Now the smiles weren't fake, they were abundant, and he was more than happy to have this on camera to look back on later.

"What is it?" Luke got up from his chair, redoing the buttons of his shirt as he walked to where Vince and Leo were looking out of the window, entertained like cats.

"They finished the decor," Vince explained, pointing outside. Part of it had been done during the rehearsal dinner, but last Lucas had looked out of the window during lunch it still hadn't been finalized. Now it was.

There were hundreds of white orchids, mixed in with white and blue hydrangeas and baby's breaths just about everywhere. They had created a path with a pristine white carpet that went from the top of the hill, all the way to the greek pavillion at the end of it, with the lake behind it. On either side of the carpet, sleek silver torches were planted, barely appearing between the structures with orchids wrapping around them and the hydrangeas on the floor. At each side, the white rounded chairs, slowly starting to fill up.

"I- I- God, I have to-" Leo stuttered and Lucas planted a hand in the middle of his back, rubbing up and down in a reassuring manner. Leo took a steadying breath, "I have to go out there before it's too crowded, I'm-" he'd be standing at the end of the altar, as they had already rehearsed in the previous night, "you know."

"We know," Vince moved in the room, so he could grab Leo's tux jacket and Luke got moving as well, grabbing the cufflinks and the delicate flower brooch that was meant to be sitting on the dusty blue lapel of his suit.

"Breathe, Leo," Vince instructed, easily guiding their friends' arms into the armholes of his jacket, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle away from the ironed fabric, "deep breaths, okay? You're alright."

"I'm- I think-" Leo shook his head, cheeks puffing out comically as he tried to take in a breath, "I think I'm gonna throw up..."

Luke raised his eyebrows, finishing up closing the cufflinks on his wrist and meeting Vince's eye.

"Uh... For real...?"

"Yeah-" Leo pressed a fist to his mouth, leaned forward and grabbed Vin's shoulder to steady himself, just as Luke immediately got moving.

He rushed to the suite's bathroom, grabbing the wastebasket, and then ran back to the room.

Vince had maneuvered Leo sitting down on the bed, removed his jacket once more and spread his legs apart so there would be no risk of him being sick on the suit. He was fanning the blonde with a magazine and the photographers had lowered their cameras and were queuing out of the door.

"Here," Luke pushed the basket into Leo's chest and caused him to gag with the sudden movement. He cringed in sympathy, he had expected this behavior from Jon, not Leo, "dude, take a deep breath, you're freaking out."

"It's so many-" Leo spat inside the bin, opening and closing the hand that wasn't clutching the basket, still trying to take a breath, "so many people."

"So many people who love you," Vince cooed, his voice incredibly soft, like he was talking with his baby sister, "Leo, hey, look at me-" he gestured for the blonde to meet his eyes and Leo shook his head.

"I don't feel well-"

"You're not gonna be sick," Vince rolled his eyes in a frustrated manner, "look at me."

Brave, Luke thought, as he wasn't so sure Leo wasn't about to throw up. He looked pasty enough to.

Vince was a man of faith, though, so he forced Leo's eyes to meet his, lowering the bin away, "these are all people who love you, you understand that, Leo?" he said, very slowly, "everyone is here to celebrate you-"

"I don't know all of them," Leo wrinkled his nose, chest jostling as he hiccupped and hurriedly pressed the back of his hand to his lips. Luke grabbed the ditched bin, just in case, but Vin seemed unbothered.

"The ones you don't, Jon does, and you're an unit now, are you not? These are people who want both of you to be so happy, you have nothing to be nervous about," Vince grabbed the ditched suit jacket, gesturing for Luke to help him, "there you go-" he gave Leo a sturdy shake, "you got this."

Leo nodded, timidly, the tip of his nose suddenly pink and color returning to his cheeks as he threw his arms around Vince's neck and tugged him into a hug.

Luke snorted as Vince melted immediately, hugging the blonde right back. He rolled his eyes in a fond way, gesturing quietly to Leo, "you got this?" he mouthed, without making a sound and Vin raised a thumbs up behind the blonde's back, hugging him even tighter.

"I gotta go give Jonah the rings," Lucas said, getting up and planting a kiss to the top of Leo's head, causing him to sniffle, "I'll see you on the altar, kid."

Leo let out a little watery chuckle, "I'll see you on the altar."

Jonah's suite was on the opposite side of the hallway, just far away enough they wouldn't glimpse at each other as the crew walked in and out of both rooms.

Lucas knocked, then heard a giggle and Angie's voice "Come in!"

Angelina was entirely glammed up and for a second Luke forgot how to breathe as he saw her. Their relationship existed in a weird limbo between friends and siblings, as he had been home more often than Jonah had in the past years and seen her more often than he had.

Her hair was up in a complicated knot, adorned with pearls, and she was wearing a silver dress, fabric pooling at her cleavage like a roman goddess statute, long legs peaking from the slit that went just above her knee.

"How do I look?" she did a little twirl and Lucas opened a bright smile, a memory flashing in front of his eyes. Angie, seven years old, back when he was fifteen. Sitting outside of his gate with her scraped knee and fallen bicycle, bottom lip sticking out as she valiantly tried not to cry. Pink helmet decorated with glittery butterflies and her mumbling she had been wanting to learn so she could show Jonah when he came home from the boarding school.

"You look amazing," Luke choked out and she let out a giggle, whole face lighting up as she looked over her shoulder.

"Jon, Luke's already crying."

"I told you he would," Jonah sounded all smug. He was sitting down, relaxed and nursing a glass of juice, Wendy sitting right next to him and clinking her glass with his in an amused way.

"Oh shut up," Luke grumbled, squeezing his eyes and blinking away the sudden burning there, "Leo's going down already, we should start getting on our marks."

"Vince is with him?" Wendy asked, standing up and planting her glass on the tray. She was also a sight to be beholden and Luke gave her an open once over, causing her cheeks to heat up and her to roll her eyes at him, "don't give me those eyes, Atwood."

Luke snorted, hugging her with one arm and planting a kiss to the top of her head, then saying in a low voice, "give me a minute with him?"

He was glad it was Wendy, who didn't ask questions and was clever enough to catch the shift of things in the air. She nodded, fixing the buttons of his shirt, "we're gonna be waiting for you downstairs."

Both women hugged Jonah, then they were out of the room and Jon let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders and glancing out of the window of his room. Luke followed his gaze, smiling as he saw Leo was already out there, shaking hands and making the slow track to the pavilion where he was supposed to stand as the entrances were made to the music.

He had grabbed Bella as his moral support somewhere along the way, because she was holding his arm, auburn hair burning orange as the 5 PM sun started to lower on them, the guests rushing to their places and the violin players getting in position.

"I knew he'd find a way to pull her in," Jonah huffed, not frustrated, but sounding proud.

Luke smiled at him, "can't blame him, my wife is a vision," he said smugly, then grabbed the box in his pocket as Jon turned to look at him, "safe and sound, man," he opened it to reveal the rings, "are you ready?"

Jonah's bright smile slipped for the first time all day, that cloud of near arrogance melting as he nodded, taking the box, "will you laugh if I say I was born ready?"

Luke snorted, but his sight got blurry all over again. To busy his hands, he smoothed Jonah's tan jacket, fiddled with the pocket square, "I'm so proud of you," he said through the tight knot in his throat, stuck there even as he tried to clear it, "I'm so happy for you, brot-"

Before he finished his sentence, Jonah tackled him with a hug. Tight, rib crushing and shoulders shaking slightly. Lucas' shoulders dropped, the knot in his throat loosening up as he hugged his best friend right back, squeezing him and pulling back just enough to pat his cheek and wipe away the tears running down his the corner of his own eyes, "well, fuck-"

"I love you," Jonah said, quietly, but firm, "I don't know how this happened, because trust me, I tried to get rid of you so many times-" he chuckled and so did Luke, new tears rushing up, "but I'm glad you're here with me."

Luke shook his head, a sudden sob bursting through and he let out a whine, "oh fuck you-" he groaned, as his whole face burned, "I love you too, Jon. Both of you."

---------

Leo hadn't been nervous about the wedding even for a day. From the minute Jonah had proposed — or tried to — all he had felt was incredible certainty and excitement. Even when they broke the news to Jackie and she had prompted twenty questions and tried to highjack the planning, even when Leo had failed at it and passed the wedding responsibilities to Jonah, even when their plans started to become a reality and he was suddenly in a suit, cake testing and venue visiting. Not once he had been nervous.

Until today.

His heart was racing and his hands were sweating and he felt like he was going to be sick.

"Oh there you are-" Bella stopped on her tracks as she met him downstairs, chaperoned by Vince who had a steady hand on his back, "uh- Everything okay?"

"Everything is alright," Vince spoke for him, but Leo nodded in agreement. Everything was perfect, he was just so worried about not messing it up, "he's just nervous, can you get him to the altar?"

Bella's eyes widened, blue sparkling even more as it was surrounded by black mascara and some green reflective eyeshadow, "of course-" she jumped forward, grabbing Leo's bicep and he took her hand from it, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing her knuckles.

"Thank you," he said quietly, squeezing her fingers and curling his arm so he could guide her around like a lady.

She leaned in, "no, thank you for saving me from the sharks," she said, which was just her being sweet, so he felt like he was the one doing her a favor and not the opposite way around, "deep breaths, it'll be over before you know it."

"I don't know if I want it to be over," Leo admitted quietly, although he was still shaking with nervousness. Bell's fingers curled on his forearm a little tighter as they moved through the crowd and he started shaking hands, smiling to his friends, people from work, the hospital, the baseball team whom he really liked, faces he had never seen before-

Through all of it, Bella was a steadying rock and before he realized he was at the altar, the violinists moving into position and the justice of peace took his place. Jackie stepped forward to meet them and Leo let out a shaky breath, meeting her eyes. They were hazel just like Jon's, a shade darker, more brown than green.

"My darling," she cupped Leo's face in her hands, smiling at him like they had known each other for much longer than they did. Just barely a year and a half and yet he never felt like she was faking to like him, to- "my darling son."

He waited for her to finish her phrase, then it hit him she meant him. Jackie looked amused as she patted his cheek and took Bella away from him with the grace of someone who had done it a thousand times.

Bell hesitated, then leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek and smiling at Leo, "breathe out," she whispered, flashing him a brilliant smile and then stepping away with Jackie and sitting down just as the music started.

There was a general rustle at the first soft violin notes and Leo bounced nervously on his feet, twisting his sweaty hands. Almost no one was looking at him now, although he caught the eye of his work friends and flashed them a smile, before looking ahead once more.

Vince and Wendy were spearheading it. Wen was wearing the most ridiculous heels Leo had ever seen and he let out a little nervous chuckle at that, probably so she could look proportionate next to Vin. They didn't separate at the ending of the nave, but instead moved to stand behind Leo, to his left, Vince breaking protocol as he thumped on Leo's back and gave him a reassuring smile.

Angie and Luke were next. Angelina was smiling so much he was sure he could see her molars and that Luke was the only thing keeping her from rushing through the walk and ruin the choreography Jonah had drilled on them like a marine in the previous night.

As soon as they reached the end of the walk, moving to the free spot to the other side of the pavilion, the music changed.

This was new, through all of the rehearsal they had done it with the violin group, I Can't Help Falling In Love playing during all of their walks-

But no, there was a saxophonist now and Leo couldn't help the blubbering laughter that came up as he realized Jonah had kept this a secret from all of them. What a diva.

Four notes, a song Leo didn't recognize, and then he caught Jonah's eyes at the end of the nave and all of the previous nervousness vanished as if it was magic.

Jonah had insisted on entering on his own and Leo was glad, because he couldn't even pretend to keep his eyes off of him. It was like all their guests disappeared.

His racing thoughts stopped and Leo opened a bright smile, sight blurring as Jonah smiled back at him, casually walking to the sax notes as if he did that everyday, as if they were seeing each other across the football field, the crowded hospital or the hall of their building after a long day.

Leo blinked quickly against the tears and let out a watery chuckle as suddenly a handkerchief appeared in front of him, Vince patting his back as he did that.

He took it, squeezing the square of fabric in his hand and letting his eyes rake over all of Jon, the way his curls were catching the sunset just right, how he had picked the perfect tan color for a suit that brought out his deep complexion, how his eyes were so incredibly green as they were all watery-

"It's no use if we both cry," Jonah choked out just as he reached Leo and the blonde shook his head, wiping away the tears and turning to face him, forgetting for a second that they were standing in front of fifty guests.

The soft notes of the sax floated away, fading, and the justice of peace cleared his throat, "welcome, loved ones. We are gathered here today to join Leo Wagner and Jonah Banks in holy matrimony-"

"I love you," Leo whispered, completely drowning out the man, and Jonah smiled right back at him, the golden sunset bathing him.

"I love you more," he mouthed, taking Leo's hands in his and squeezing it, as their officiant kept speaking.

[supersecretsickplace]

Quarantine

Heads up for the people who are avoiding the Wendy Relapse Arc; We see Wendy "sick" at the start and Max, wrongly, assumes is because of the flu. It's only the first half of the fic, so I'd still recommend reading it, just skip a little bit. It's Max's POV and not detailed at all.

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

They sat in the bathroom for the longest time, as Vince continued to try and turn inside out. It was already dark outside as they managed to convince him that he was truly empty and relocated him to bed, shivering under covers and with a bucket on the ground next to him.

Max's heart squeezed with worry and sympathy as he watched the other man sleep, the fever leaving a permanent red mark in the middle of his cheek, the sweat glistening all over his face despite the fact Wendy was consistently wiping it off with her cold washcloth.

Vaguely he could overhear Wen down the hall, talking on the phone with Jonah, saying they'd be quarantine and that no, he didn't have to worry and yes, they had everything in the house. It was probably a twenty four hour bug and Vin would be fine in the morning.

Vince squirmed, turning on his side just enough he could hang his head out of the mattress and Max fully entered the room, holding up the bucket under his friend's mouth. An empty heave shook Vin's frame, bringing up nothing but a string of frothy burps and a whine.

"Shhh," Max sighed, pushing back Vin's curls and grabbing his shoulder, pushing him against the pillows, "you're empty, you're done."

Vin's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, dangerously, eyes squeezed shut and a dark frown between his brows. Max softly ran his fingers over Vince's wrinkles, smoothing the frown away, scratching his scalp, "relax, man. Try to catch some sleep."

"Max...?" Vince sounded absolutely lost, "don't- You'll get sick..."

"Pffft," Max snorted, rolling his eyes, "too little, too late. Get some sleep, Vin."

Vince frowned at him, but he was clearly too tired to fight it any longer and very quickly his eyes rolled back, whole body going slack. Max grimaced, since it looked more like a fainting spell than falling asleep, but then a soft snore followed and he relaxed.

Nevertheless, he didn't move. Much like he had seen Wendy do before, he stayed sat on the bed, petting away Vin's curls. He understood entirely why she hadn't been able to move. There was just something about seeing Vince, big and strong, so vulnerable that made him not want to look away.

"He's asleep?" Wendy whispered from the doorway, startling Max. His cheeks caught on fire, as if he had just been caught red handed doing something he shouldn't.

"Yeah," Max whispered, carefully getting up from the bed and tiptoeing back to the door. He winced at the door creaked slightly, scared it might wake him up.

"Come have dinner," Wendy tugged on his arm, keeping her voice low, "c'mon..."

Once they were out of the hallway and back into the kitchen, Max felt like he could breathe. He rolled his shoulders, "was Jonah too mad?"

"Not mad, just concerned," Wendy answered, opening the fridge and then letting out a sigh, "I don't feel like cooking, how about we order in?"

Food was the last thing in his mind, which was weird considering he had thrown up his lunch and should've been famished by now. Max shrugged, leaning against the fridge, "sure, what do you have in mind?"

In true womanly fashion, Wendy didn't know what she wanted, but she sure as hell knew what she didn't want, shooting down all of his options. Eventually they settled on Hawaiian food, back in the living room.

Max pushed around the bits and pieces of his salad with his fork, happily opting to paying more attention to Wen as she started to tell him all about her and Vin's food adventures, instead of his own meal.

He wasn't sure when he started to drift off, but suddenly Wendy's giggling was jostling him awake, her hands on his arm.

"Hey," her face was much closer than before and he realized she was in completely different clothes, a pink robe wrapped around her form, stuffed bunny slippers, "you dozed off, Max."

"Shit," he wiped at his face, cringing as he realized he had drooled in his slip, "shit, I'm- I'm sorry..."

"No," Wendy shook her head, ushering him up, "don't apologize. Go change while I fix the couch for you, alright?"

He nodded, stumbling up and struggling to piece things together. His backpack was across the room, with his change of clothes and toiletries.

Max was yawning as he changed into his sweatpants and long sleeved shirt combo, now with his teeth brushed, and found that Wendy had already pulled out the couch and fixed it up with blankets and a pillow at lightspeed.

"Thank you, Wen," he yawned and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she passed him by in the hallway.

"Just call if you need anything," she squeezed his arm, "goodnight Max."

"Goodnight," he smiled, then walked to the couch and fell against the cushions with a pleased sigh. His whole body was aching, be it because of the drive between in Doveport and Welton when he wasn't used to riding a bike or because of manhandling Vince around.

He never quite fell asleep, but instead dozed in and out of consciousness many times. Wendy's pullout couch was very comfy, but the apartment was weird, not bad, just... Different. Every time Max closed his eyes, his sleepy brain latched on a different corner of her living room. The rounded rectangle table with a big flower pot sitting in the middle, the books under her TV rack, the paintings littering the walls...

He curled up further under the blankets, feeling like he was freezing, despite the fact it was quite a warm night. So warm that her A/C was on and eventually Max stumbled up and rummaged near the front door in order to find the remote and turn it off. He fell back into the blankets, rolling himself up in them like a burrito and pressing his nose to the dusty pink cushions.

His teeth were chattering and Max was debating getting up and bothering the couple down the hall to ask for an extra blanket when he actually heard the bedroom door open.

For one second he laid still, scared that somehow he had woken them up by freezing to death, but then the footsteps came down the hall, all the way to the guest bathroom — too soft to be Vince's —  and the light spilled out, vanished again as the door closed and Max sat up as he heard Wendy retching.

Oh no.

He needed to brace against the couch as he jumped up in a hurry, a wave of vertigo nearly sending him flat on his back. Max frowned at his own faulty body, then stumbled to the guest bathroom and knocked softly, keeping his voice low, "Wen? Wen, are you okay?"

Obviously it wasn't. Of course she'd get the damn bug, she was sleeping with the walking petri dish that was Vin at this moment. And of course she was hurrying down the hall to be sick, because her boyfriend woke up at any sound. Ridiculously selfless.

"Go'way!" Wendy groaned and Max sighed, resting his forehead to the door with a yawn.

"M'fraid I can't-" he yawned again, "can't do that, gorgeous."

"I'm fine!" Wendy's voice wasn't a yell, but it was raspy and loaded with embarrassment. He hated it, he wanted to make her feel better, not the opposite.

Max moved away from the door, only so he could go to the kitchen and grab Wendy comically large water bottle, as well as a bowl. He looked around, but try as he might he couldn't find a washcloth, so he settled for a clean dishcloth, running it under the tap and praying she wouldn't be too mad about it.

Then he walked back to the bathroom and knocked once more, "just let me take a look at you?" he offered and heard a sniffle.

That did it. Without thinking, Max turned the doorhandle and found out Wendy hadn't locked the door. She was crumpled on the floor, away from the toilet, hugging her knees and resting her back on the bathtub, crying.

"Oh, Wendy," Max groaned, sinking to his knees, "of course you got it," he planted the water bottle next to her foot and crawled closer, unsure of what he should or could do. He wanted to scoop her up, she was so tiny and vulnerable, it made his heart ache, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he was crossing some sort of boundary...

"Here," Max opted for saying, offering her the humid cloth, "wipe your face, it'll help you feel better."

Wendy's frame shook with a sob at his words, as if the prospect she deserved to feel better was a bad thing or something beyond her sight. He understood, the flu was the worst. His own stomach wasn't feeling too hot at the moment, sympathy nausea he apparently got now causing things to swirl away.

When she made no movement to get the dishcloth, Max moved even closer and cupped her chin with his hand, starting to do it for her. She was cool to the touch, which was a good sign, right? No fever...?

Wendy's chin wobbled in his hold, green eyes filled with tears, "I'm sorry..."

"What for?" Max rolled his eyes, then winced as it caused an annoying throbbing to spring up behind his right away, "c'mere-" he closed the small distance between them, wrapping his arms around her and Wendy promptly collapsed against him.

She pressed her face to his chest, shaking like a newborn puppy and Max rubbed his chin over the top of her head, instinctually, "shhh, you'll feel better soon," he promised and that seemed to cause a fresh batch of tears.

His eyes were burning with the effort of staying open and his back aching, begging him to go back to bed, but Wendy was still clinging to him and he had no intentions of moving away.

It seemed like it took forever, Max drifting in and out of consciousness as he continued to hold her, when Wendy finally stirred in his arms.

"You're warm," she whispered, her voice raspy, face slightly swollen from all the crying. Max frowned, he didn't feel like he was warm at all.

"No, I'm freezing my ass off here," he scoffed at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "how are you feeling?"

A sniffle answered him, as Wendy averted her eyes and shut the toilet. He hadn't glanced at it, it hadn't occurred him to, but now Max wondered if she had puked at all, given she didn't press the flush. Better this way.

Maybe she was one of those people who just really really hated feeling sick.

"I'm fine," Wendy's hands suddenly were on his face, causing him to flinch. They were like ice cubes, "you need to lie down, I think you have a fever."

"That's one- One hell of a plague," Max grumbled, using the wall to hoist himself up, "took all three of us down in less than twenty hours."

Wendy wrapped an arm around his waist, guiding him back to the living room, humming in agreement with him.

As soon as he was lying on the couch, exhaustion came crashing down like a ton of bricks. Every little bit of his body ached, his head was throbbing and he was shivering. His stomach felt overly full and sour, despite the fact he had only nibbled at dinner, and there was a crampy sensation deep in his gut.

"Take these, Max," Wendy's voice was soft, breathy, head hovering over his face and delicate fingers pressing a couple pills to his mouth. There was a halo around her head, bouncing on her chocolate hair, and Max couldn't pinpoint if it was the overhead lights, the sun, or if she had turned on the television.

He gulped down the meds, obediently, then shivered violently as he pressed his face to the pillow, curling up so much he was turning into an origami.

Next time he opened his eyes, it was definitely bright out. The sun was filtering through the cream curtains in a peachy haze, but still Max groaned at the brightness and moved his arm to cover his eyes. Immediately there were fingers in his hair, too big to be Wen's, too certain too.

"How are you?" Vince's voice was shot, as if he had gargled with glass shards and Max dared to lift his head from his dark cocoon to look at the other man. Vin looked like the picture of misery, in grey oversized sweats, his curls sticking out everywhere and gluing to his clammy face, complexion all waxy and eyes sunken into their sockets.

He looked just like Max felt.

"Gross," the blonde groaned, refusing to sit up. His stomach was churning and he could feel acid tickling the back of his throat, if he moved he was going to be sick, "I hate you."

"I hate me too," Vince sat down on the opposite end of the couch, causing the structure to groan. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, staring at a spot in the large daisy rug.

"Vince," Max kicked the other man's thigh, gulping down the nausea that the movement caused, "if you're gonna hurl, move."

Vince shook his head, rubbing his face in an exhausted manner, "nothing else to-" he muffled a burp in his hand, "-to bring up."

"Great," Max closed his eyes again, trying to urge his headache to vanish, "where's Wendy?"

"Asleep," Vince yawned, "she was up all night between you and me-"

"She's sick too," Max warned him, "she was throwing up yesterday."

Even without opening his eyes, Max knew he had revealed new information, because Vince's mouth snapped shut and a tense silence followed.

"She was...?"

"Yeah," Max forced his eyes open, "I guess she didn't want to wake you, she went to the hallway bathroom."

Immediately he knew he had said the wrong thing. Vince's dark brows met in an upset frown, his lips turned down at the corners.

"Vin?"

"Get some sleep," Vince moved up, not as quick as he clearly wanted, but quick enough Max could tell he was annoyed, "I got you-" he stumbled around, then held out a Gatorade bottle for the blonde. When Max didn't move to get it, Vin dropped it in the space between Max's stomach and his curled up legs, "hydrate and try to get some rest, I'll wake you for meds soon-"

"Where- Where are you going?" Max felt beyond puzzled, even a little wounded. Clearly he had gotten used to being babied by Vin, because he expected a lot more care than he was receiving and it stung. Not only that, but he had the distinct sensation that Vin was mad at him, but Max had no idea why.

"To check on our girl," Vince scoffed, "if she's been sick all night, she's probably dehydrated as hell. Get some sleep."

Ah.

Our girl?

Max didn't have any time to retort, as Vince moved out of the living room, way too quickly for someone who was recovering from a brutal round of the flu.

Our girl.

It was obviously an accusation, thinly veiled jealousy that Max didn't think Vin was capable to feel, but was clear as a bell. Nevertheless, those two words caused a new shiver to go down Max's spine

He let out a groan, burying his head in the cushions and closing his eyes once more, hoping the flu would do its job and knock him out before his brain started to chew on that new piece of information, that weird tingling emotion he couldn't place. Guilt. Elation.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Wen whispered, touching his bicep and Max refused to open his eyes or change his breathing pattern. He didn't want to deal with reality just yet, not with the mess he was digging himself in, not with how achy and weak his body felt.

"I can tell you're awake," Wendy chuckled, pushing his hair back, thumb stroking his cheek, "how does some soup sound?"

Awful.

"Vin's just been able to stomach some, you think you could try?"

Nope.

His stomach felt like a bubbling cauldron, full to the brim with hot acid. The nausea that had been present since he had started to feel chilly was more strong than ever, causing his mouth to water and his stomach to churn. The organ let out an upset whine.

"How is it?" Wendy asked and Max knew it wasn't directed at him, because her voice was louder.

"It's great," Vince answered, causing his girlfriend to let out an amused huff and get up from her spot in the couch.

"You can't taste it, can you?" Wendy teased and Max cracked an eye open, seeing her drape herself over Vin's back and plant a kiss on his cheek. He was sitting by the dinner table, still looking like death warmed over, but significantly better from that morning.

"Nope," Vince leaned his head back, grinning at Wendy, "but I'm sure it's great. I trust your cooking skills."

"I'm moved," she ran her fingers through her boyfriend's curls, then widened her eyes at Max as she caught him watching them, "you're awake, uh?"

Max offered them a tight lipped smile, slowly sitting up. Even moving as slow as he could, his stomach seemed to churn even harder. His hair was down from his manbun, sticking to his clammy face and falling like a curtain around his face as he hung forward, planting his elbows on his knees. It made him feel claustrophobic and antsy.

"Guys?"

"Yeah? What do you need?" Much to his surprise, it was Vin who asked, sounding concerned. So at least he didn't hate Max just yet. Our girl.

"Uhm, can you- Can you tie my hair?" if he moved his arms up in order to try, Max just knew he was gonna be sick all over his lap. It was taking all of his will power at the moment to speak and not throw up.

"Uh, sure, yeah-" he heard the noise of the chair sliding on wooden floors, Wendy's feet down the hall and then a big hand cupped his forehead, pulling away the blonde strands.

"Are you too warm? Maybe your fever finally broke..." Vince said and Max shook his head, unable to answer.

"Got it!" Wendy squealed, rushing back into the room, with what he assumed was the hair tie. Vince combed all of his hair back and tied it, just as Max gagged and Wen let out a squeal.

"Oh, okay- Okay, hold on just a second! Just a sec!" She urged him and Max snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the disgusting warm saliva and trying not to breathe at all. His body was covered in goosebumps and the stomach acid was flooding his mouth-

He retched, just as Wendy skipped back in the room and all but threw the bowl to Vin, who caught it in the air and pushed it under Max's chin just in time to catch a dribble of sick.

The blonde let out a humiliated groan, reaching with shaky hands to take the bowl from Vince. He probably had pissed someone up there really badly, because why the hell he was being sick of both his crushes. A particular circle of hell.

He lurched forward with a much more violent heave, a large gush of liquid and chunks falling into the bowl and causing his eyes to water and his nose to run as stomach acid got into it.

"That's alright, get it up," Wendy cooed, planting a hand on his back and rubbing up and down, "you'll feel better soon, it's not- Shit, Vin, get out of here, honey."

Max didn't have any energy to turn his head. It felt like it weighted a thousand pounds and he was breathing shallowly through his mouth, a line of thick saliva hanging from his bottom lip and keeping him tied to the bowl like an umbilical cord. He tried to gulp down, only for a thick belch to come up from the depths of his stomach, bringing another wave at its tail-end.

His ears went deaf and Max let out a whimper, one hand letting go of the bowl, feverish brain clumsily trying to find any comfort as he wrapped his arm around his stomach and squeezed, trying to keep the contents down.

"I got you, I got you," Wendy planted a hand on the bowl, steading it and brushed her knuckles against his cheek, "take a breath, love."

Fuck.

Max gagged up another watery stream, then dry heaved, loudly and violently, whole body shaking with effort. His stomach muscles spasmed, trying to bring up anything else, but he had barely eaten dinner and thrown up lunch, there really wasn't much to puke.

Wendy thumped his back, with just enough force he rocked forward with yet another heave and managed to bring up a stream of bright orange bile, before panting for several minutes.

Slowly Max lowered the bowl away from his face, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him.

"Are you done?" Wendy asked and he waited a minute, before nodding. She sprung up, "let me take this then-"

Max let out a loud groan at the embarrassment of not being able to clean up after himself, only to feel Vince's hands on his shoulders, pulling him back against the couch.

"Relax," Vin squeezed his nape, thumbs rubbing in little gentle circles, "relax."

It was not so much cooing as it was an order and Max melted under the massage, breathing out. His stomach was still aching and he was still freezing, but at least Vince wasn't mad at him and Wendy didn't seem to think he was gross.

He let out a yawn, then heard Wendy giggle, blankets being tucked around him and then her voice as she said, "I got him, you go lie down, honey. You're looking just as pale as he is."

"Uhmmm," was Vince's answer, followed by a tired sigh and a poke to Max's shoulder, "let's bring you to bed, it's comfier than the couch."

The blonde felt like he was drunk as Vince ushered him up, exchanging quiet words with Wen and knowing glances that seemed like they were having a silent conversation. He stumbled ahead, then fell face first against a pillow.

The bed dipped as Vin laid down right next to him and then even more as Wendy threw a blanket over them and snuggled up so she was lying half on top of Vince, her cheek pressed to his chest in a way that made her whole face squish and made Max snort.

At least they didn't have to worry about infecting her...?

His stomach let out an upset whine and Max cringed, curling up and scooting on the bed so he could press his forehead to Vin's bicep and try to steal a bit of his warmth.

Vin's hand was in Wendy's hair, fiddling with the waves and wrapping them around his fingers. She turned her face slightly, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend's stomach, then reached out and cupped Max's face, stroking his prickly cheek, sort of combing his auburn beard.

"Sleep now," she whispered, "we got you."

[supersecretsickplace]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

mwah!

<4

Congratulations

This comes directly after this fic, where Max got sick from his lunch around Leo.

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

"Oh no," Wendy giggled, curled up next to Max on the couch, her head thrown back and a blush devouring her cheeks, climbing up from her blouse's cleavage, kissing her neck and ears.

He felt proud of himself for making her laugh like that, even if it was at his expense.

Max was sitting next to her, Wendy's heat pad pressed to his stomach, having just told her with no shortage of expletives just how awesome lunch had been.

"You've got the worst luck known to man, Max," Wendy's shoulders continued to shake and she dug her feet on the cushion, hiding them under his thigh to warm them up, "I can't believe Leo threatened to uninvite you."

"Right?" He scoffed, resting his elbow on her knee, "but he didn't, so you'll just have to put up with me at the wedding."

"I bet you're an obnoxious drunk," Wendy rolled her eyes, "loud and full of horrible ideas."

"I'm an angel," he grinned at her, "have I told you about the first time I got wasted and how I was arrested for the first tim-"

"Aw, I owe Bella twenty bucks," Wendy interrupted him with a pout and Max looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Pardon me?"

"Bell bet you had done time before," Wendy's nose wrinkled in an adorable manner and he turned fully on his side so he could plant his other arm also on top her knee, his chin resting on his crossed forearms, "I said you were all bark, but no bite."

"Rude?!" Max chuckled, pinching her calf and making Wendy squeal and try to move away, but his arm on top of her knee kept her put, "what the fuck, Wendy! Well, I didn't do time, so I guess you were both wrong."

"You didn't?" She perked up, curiosity coloring her words, "...So? Are you gonna tell me?!"

"First time I got arrested I was drunk and I got a little too in the face of a cop, who got called at a house party I was at. It was during college, I was just old enough to drink, dude didn't believe my ID and I already didn't like cops, so-" Max shrugged, smiling as he reminisced on the memory, "second time was political. I was part of a group protesting for the environment, while I was on work break, in Portland. I got held for two days, though, that was all. I don't think you need to pay Bell up."

Wendy's face was clouded with curiosity, but instead of asking anything else, she leaned in and poked his belly, "how's your stomach?"

In truth, Max had been feeling better from the minute the finished getting sick. His gut might hate him, but at least it wasn't vicious, only wanted the offending items out. Nevertheless, Wendy had been so quick to baby him when he got to her building, he had leaned on it more than he should've.

"I'm fine," he squeezed her hand, pressing the heat pad further to his belly, "just allergic to fun, it seems."

"Or to Leo. I wouldn't blame you," Wendy teased, then sprung up from the couch as if she had been tasered as the front door opened. Max snorted at that, figuring Wen had forgotten for a split second Vince was coming home.

As soon as he turned his head to look at the other man, Max's eyebrows jumped up.

Vince's usual easy going smile was gone, instead replaced by a purposeful frown. Not the occasional resting bitch face that his dark strong brows could cause, but a real frown.

Max's smile fell as he wondered if maybe his presence there, alone with Vin's girlfriend, was the cause behind such a mean mug.

Wendy looked just as confused as Max, "uh... Hello?"

"Hi," Vince's voice was gruff as he removed his jacket and kicked off his boots. Wendy looked over her shoulder, confused, and Max shrugged.

"Everything okay...?" Max gauged, biting nervously on the skin of his thumb. At the same time as he said that, Wendy asked:

"How was the evening with the guys?"

Vin shrugged, "fine," he rubbed his face, squinting at the entry rug, "I don't feel well, I'm gonna lie down."

Oh.

Relief washed over Max. That explained it, at least Vin wasn't mad at him, just sick. Poor dude.

"Not well? How so?" Wendy questioned, skipping ahead so she could cup her boyfriend's cheeks, "you're a little warm, were you in the sun?"

That could be it, Vince's cheeks sure were pink and he seemed sweaty, although that could just be clamminess. Max got up too, so he could shadow over Wen, as if he was of any help when compared to a doctor.

"I was out playing so yeah," Vin's whole face scrunched up as he winced again, eye rolling Wendy's conjecture, "I just have a headache and feel gross. I'm gonna go lie down."

Max let out a snort, it was weirdly amusing to see Vince act like such an ass, for a minute there he had all but forgotten of how the other man had acted the first time they met. Vin could be such a dick.

"Okay..." Wendy pulled back, seeming unsure of what to do, "do you need anything?"

"No, I-" Vince interrupted himself, cheeks puffing out with a soft burp and he rubbed his chest in an uneasy manner, "just gotta sleep it off..."

Wendy nodded, stepping to the side as Vince moved further in. He passed by Max, offering him a tight lipped, forced, smile, "hi Max," his voice was all gruff and he moved away before the blonde could answer.

Thirty seconds later he heard the bedroom door opening and closing, loudly.

"...That was weird," Max said and Wendy nodded enthusiastically.

"He's never acted like that," she chewed on her lip, "probably is just the headache."

"Probably," Max conceded, thinking that Vince seemed a little green around the gills, but opting for staying quiet. If his girlfriend wasn't mother henning then-

"He seemed a little queasy, didn't he?" Wendy wondered, out loud, walking to the kitchen and he followed her like a shadow. For some reason that Max couldn't quite pinpoint, she sounded elated. Weirdo. Cute.

He watched as she moved around her small kitchen, filling up a water bottle, fishing out a bowl, moving out of the room to retrieve some towels- Max hung awkwardly at the door threshold as Wendy entered the dark bedroom and sat on the corner of the mattress, Vince a lump under covers.

"Honey," Wendy whispered, eliciting a grunt as response. The hallway light was spilling inside the room, bathing half of Wen's face in gold and outlining Vince's form beneath the blankets. He took up so much of the bed, Max chewed on his lip as he tried to visualize Wendy in it as well.

"I know your head hurts," Wendy continued to speak in a low voice, running her fingers through his curls, "but I want you to take some meds, okay? Then you can sleep."

Not an hour before she had been using that exact same tone with him, fussing as she pushed pepto in his hands and all but shoved Max to the couch despite him being much taller.

Vince let out another groan, then there was some shuffling around as Wendy fed him the singular tylenol pill and a gulp of water, tucking the covers around him as Vin collapsed back against the pillows.

"We'll be in the living room," Wen leaned in, planting a kiss on her boyfriend's temple, "holler if you need me."

Max could almost hear Vin's not verbalized "stay". Although he never said it, he curled up further, a hand wrapped around Wendy's wrist and keeping her in place, before she could get up. Max let out a snort, crossing his arms and leaning even more against the doorway, thumping his head against the wood as he watched a blush crawl up Wen's cheeks and her steal a glance in his direction.

He felt like a voyeur, knowingly intruding into an intimate moment but unable to look away.

Wendy didn't have the heart to pull away, so she stayed put, continuing to pet Vin's hair with the hand that wasn't trapped by his grip.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, almost good thirty minutes later as she managed to unhook her hand from Vin's tight grip and pulled the door ajar behind her, "I'm being a terrible host."

"No, you're not," Max rolled his eyes, glancing past her shoulder and into the dark bedroom. Vince was snoring away, louder than usual and Max felt embarrassed that he knew just how the other man was supposed to sound. What weird information to have filed away.

"Yes, I am," Wendy scoffed, planting her hands on his arm and pushing Max down the hall, "you were telling me about your big bad criminal career."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, rushing to cover his mouth and glancing nervously backwards, just in case they had woken Vin up. Wendy froze too. A snore. Both their shoulders dropped in relief and Max quietly giggled, "it was incredibly short lived," he promised, falling back on the couch and feeling his stomach fill up with butterflies as Wendy resumed to her original position, curling up next to him, green eyes sparkling with curiosity as he said, "but my arsonist career had just started."

He didn't feel the time passing at all as they jumped from topic to topic. From his harmless arson days, to college, to her career — Wendy's voice went up a whole note as she explained just why she had picked neurology and how her supervision worked. Her phone gallery was almost a crime scene, a thousand pictures that were just guts and brains and she nearly draped herself over his knee as she explained every single one with glee.

Max was trying not to laugh too loudly as he heard Wendy tell him just how her residency had worked during college days and dumb shit they had been forced to deal with.

"Gynecology was a trip," she groaned, although her eyes had a manic glint, "you cannot imagine the amount of people who are having sex without knowing what they're doing. The crazy stuff I'd hear during my clinic hours...' she shuddered, "at least I only did rotations there for the mandatory three months. Had a lady come in wondering how she was pregnant because they had been using protection and when I asked for clarification I saw the burst condom around her wrist like a fucking bracelet-"

"You're joking," Max wailed, "you're fucking with me!"

"Oh, I wish! I haven't even told you about the orthopedics supervisor-"

"He used to sleep and let the residents run amuck," Vince's voice, still deep from sleep, interrupted. Wendy perked up, tilting her head back with a smile as Vin pressed a kiss to the top of her head, standing behind the couch.

He was terribly pale, redness around his eyes and nose. Dark circles that had no business being there.

"How are you feeling, dude?" Max asked, carefully pulling back his legs. Somehow they had ended up on Wen's lap, her hands clutching at the hem of his pants, fingers ghosting over the scar he sported on his ankle from the fatidic hiking trip.

"Gross," Vince admitted, "ashamed. I was rude earlier, I'm sorry."

Max rolled his eyes, waving him away, "you're a dick, I've known," he teased and Vince's cheeks turned red as he circled the couch and collapsed on the armchair that was next to it.

"How's the headache?" Wendy moved so she was on her knees on the rug, before her boyfriend, peering at his face since he had hunched over.

"Better..." Vince sounded small, clearly embarrassed and still in pain, "I was such an asshole earlier, I'm so-"

"Aw, my poor baby," Wendy's voice went up a gleeful note, half amused, half teasing, as she planted a bunch of kisses all over his face, using Vin's knee to push herself up, "you're not feeling well, that's alright..."

Vince muffled a groan against her chest as Wendy kissed his temple, hugging her by the middle. Max opened an entertained grin, noticing how Wendy seemed to have cuteness aggression as her hands clasped her boyfriend's shoulders and she pulled him to her, almost melting them together.

Vince stayed in that position for a minute too long and Wen turned her head to look at Max, her chin pressed to the top of her boyfriend's head, mouthing silently, "such a baby."

Then suddenly the other man pulled back, all but punching himself as he pressed a hand to his lips and muffled a wet, frothy burp. His face had gone from the previous milky white, straight into grey-green territory. He stayed very still, breathing slowly, and Wendy remained frozen, arms up in the air from how Vince had pushed her away.

"Vin?"

Max sprung up, running back to the bedroom as he remembered the bowl Wendy had left there. He crawled over the thrown blankets and grabbed it off the floor, rushing back to the living room.

Vince hadn't moved, despite the fact Wendy had been trying to usher him up. His eyes were squeezed shut, perspiration covering his skin and Max all but fell as he tripped, plating the bowl in front of him.

"Here," he panted and Vince took it, hand all clammy as it brushed with Max's. He leaned over it, opening his mouth and drooling, causing the blonde to wrinkle his nose with disgust and sympathy.

"Aw, man," he straightened up, meeting Wendy's worried gaze and planting a hand on Vince's back. He was drenched in sweat and only then did Max realize he was for sure sporting a fever, "you're sick sick," he diagnosed.

Vince answered him with a groan, followed by an empty heave. Wendy sighed, pulling back his hair, "honey, let it up, you'll feel better..."

"Try-Eeurph- Trying..." He hiccupped mid sentence, then let out a whine and folded even more, pressing the bowl's edge to his forehead. Wendy let out a little frustrated sigh.

Max thought of back in Vince's house, months before, when he had been called to the rescue by a scared sounding Sophia. Clearly illness took the most out of Vin.

"That's okay," Wen cooed, continuing to rub his back, "take your time."

Vince lowered the bowl to his mouth once more, forcing up a little burp and a splash of thick saliva. He was panting as if he had just run a marathon.

It seemed to go on for the longest time, Vince bringing up little more than miserable belches and globs of thick saliva, all but rocking in his seat. His whole face was scrunched up and Wendy's easy going smile from before had vanished, concern clouding her face.

"Dude," Max sighed, thumping Vince's back as the other man dry heaved for the 10th time, unable to vomit, "I think you might just be empty..."

"No," Wendy voiced Vin's thoughts as he shook his head, "let's move him to the bathroom, c'mon."

Happy to be given a task he could actually help with, Max wrapped an arm around Vince's waist and pulled him up. Immediately his back burned, shoulders getting stiff as he tried to manhandle the much heavier man.

"C'mon, Monacelli, help me here," Max grunted, stumbling and nearly falling as he maneuvered Vin into the guest bathroom. Vince was considerably taller than him, so as he lost his footing, both of them went down inside the room.

In his attempt to not collapse, Max grabbed on the towel holder and ended up bringing it down alongside them, falling on the ground with a metallic CLAnk!

"Max!?" Wendy rushed in after them, now holding a can of ginger ale, eyes wide as she took in the scene, "oh my God, what-"

"Tripped," Max groaned, managing to wiggle from under Vin and push him sitting up in front of the toilet, wincing as his ass ached from how they had fallen, "your- Uh, your thingy fell, I'm sorry-" he gestured to the cute curtain holder with a golden bunny on each side of it.

Wendy rolled her eyes, "that's a piece of shit, don't worry about it," she promised, "fell with me too the other day."

Max shrugged, relieved, planting it on the ground and then turning his attention towards Vin once more. The other man had draped himself over the toilet, drooling as he seemed unable to shut his mouth.

"Hon," Wendy got down next to his, cupping Vin's cheek, "Vin, I got you a drink, I want you to chug it, alright? It'll help you be sick."

Max raised his eyebrows, wasn't that a bad idea? Shouldn't they try to not make Vince sick...?

He caught Wen's eyes and she shrugged, "he's not gonna rest until the nausea eases," she explained, opening the can and pushing it against Vin's lips, "big gulps, Vin."

Without so much as a complaint, Vince obeyed, chugging three large gulps — Then his chest jostled with a deep, wet burp and Max rushed up, grabbing Vin's face and making him aim at the toilet just in time for a torrent of sick to hit the water, instead of Wendy's lap.

"There you go," Wendy sighed, thumping her boyfriend's back, "bring it up, honey."

Max cringed at the violent heaves and gags that followed, his own stomach churning with sympathy nausea. He didn't typically get sick from sight or smell, but his belly suddenly felt tender, reminiscing on his own puking episode from before.

"Hey, blondie," Wendy snapped her fingers at him, noticing how pale Max looked and how he gulped the saliva in his mouth, "get out of here, I got him."

He shook his head, standing up in order to spit on the sink and splash some water on his face, "I'm fine, just- Just caught me off guard..." Max promised, not wanting to step away as he felt like he was being of some help.

"Uh-hum," Wendy rolled her eyes, throwing him an amused smile, just as Vin let out a groan and pulled back, resting his forehead on the porcelain.

"Fuck..." Vin's voice was several octaves too deep, "fuck..."

"Are you feeling any better?" Max asked, hopefully, causing Wen to snort at his silly question. Vince spat in the water, then shook his head and leaned back, collapsing against the bathroom wall and curling up, an arm wrapped around his stomach.

"M'freezing..." He whined, "everything hurts."

"Congratulations," Wendy sighed, flushing the toilet, as Max wet the hand towel he had been clutching, getting back down so he could wipe at Vin's chin, "you got the flu."

"Yay," Vince groaned, his head lolling, brown eyes meeting Max's with surprisingly intensity, "Jonah's gonna be elated."

"We'll quarantine," Wendy answered, sounding equally defeated, "shit."

[supersecretsickplace]

SOUP THIS IS AMAZING!!!!!! im loving this friendship actually and i totally didn’t expect it. but i love that max gets along with the group so well……. except luke….. IM EXCITED FOR THE WEDDING DRAMA

MWAH! <4

Invitation

Max was a procrastinator. He had always been, he was great at denial and just avoiding problems, closing his eyes and pretending it wasn't there. He was doing a fantastic job at ignoring the gaping hole in his routine now that Vince was gone, even if it had only been a full week since the other man left.

Really, he shouldn't be missing him that much, he had only truly known Vince for a year. This was ridiculous.

Because Max was avoiding dealing with that, he was doing what every procrastinator did, which was do all the other menial tasks he had also been avoiding up until something worse came along. Clean his kitchen. Fold the laundry. Clean the bathroom. Check his mail.

There was a brown envelope in his mail, made out of a thick material, that caused Max to frown. He couldn't figure out what it was.

Max collapsed down on the couch, kicking off his boots so he wouldn't track the humid leaves back inside, then got to tearing the envelope.

Inside of it there was another envelope, this one black and made of a fancy velvety paper, so the brown one was clearly just a protection. On the back of it, his address was written in silver ink, as well as Mr. Maxwell Daniels. Christ, his full government name?

The envelope was closed by a wax seal, a signet on the front that he didn't recognize. When Max finally managed to break it, things started to piece together. The inside of the envelope was lined with a black and white picture of Jonah and Leo, Vince's close friends, in a staircase and looking lovingly at each other. It was artistically blurry, hands clasped together as they climbed up the steps. Then there was a rectangular black invite and Max's stomach froze over.

He had never been invited to a wedding. Well, that was a lie, he had been invited to exactly one wedding, from one of his freshly graduated students two years before, but Max was hesitant to call a courthouse wedding with two nineteen year old's shaking from nervousness a wedding. Specially when he was holding such an elaborate invite.

"Holy shit," Max whispered, eyes dancing over the words. Portland address. Date- In twenty days, he probably had missed the RSVP limit date... Dress code, formal. Good God, they were offering accommodations.

This was more than a good excuse to call Vince and Max didn't even hesitate as he grabbed the phone. Much to his chagrin, the man didn't answer either of his double calls, so Max bit down his lip... Then called Wendy.

It was a Saturday, so hopefully she wasn't working and he wasn't interrupting her...

"Max!?" Wendy's voice was all giddy, "oh my God, how are you? I haven't heard from you in forever!" Two weeks. He had talked with her when Vince had been hungover at his place. Two weeks wasn't exactly forever, but it gave him butterflies the fact she considered it so.

"Hi gorgeous," he leaned back, crossing his legs, "I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm great!" Wendy sounded all out of breath, "tell me more, how are you enjoying the break from school? What are you doing?"

She was adorable.

"I'm fine, a little bored if I'm honest. Did some house cleaning I've been avoiding, you'd be proud," he rolled his eyes at the memory of Wendy being all flabbergasted at his messy home, "are you proud?"

"So much," she sounded amused, "pictures or it didn't happen."

"I'll text you pictures," he promised, grinning, "so uh- I just got an- A wedding invited in the mail...? You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?"

There was a beat of silence, which caused him to frown, "Wendy?"

"Jonah and Leo's invitation?" Wendy sounded embarrassed by her small lapse, "black and white?"

"Yep, that's one," he leaned back on the couch, "I only saw it now, I'm guessing it went out months ago? RSVP was supposed to be a month ago."

Her laughter was like silver bells, "yeah, you're a little behind schedule, Daniels. But are you thinking of attending?"

"I don't think I can-"

"Well, lucky you, I'm the maid of honor, I can talk with them," he heard the noise behind her change, as if she was moving around, "so would you?"

"Of course I'd love to attend, it sucks I only saw it now," Max's face was burning and he wasn't even sure what he was embarrassed about. Wendy vouching for him? The fact he hadn't seen the invitation? Or just how incredibly flattered he felt at being considered in the first place?

"It's alright if they can't fit me in, Wen, I know they probably have a list or a limit of guests..." he scratched nervously at his beard and heard a huff.

"They'll figure it out," she promised, although Max didn't think she could promise that, "the dress code it's formal, do you need help shopping?"

He let out a chuckle, "what are you implying? I don't know how to dress myself?"

"Well, if the shoe fits!" She all but squealed and Max let the invite fall back on his lap, tipping his body back so he could look at the ceiling and basking in her laugh.

"I'll figure it out, gorgeous," he vowed, "tell me what you're doing? I didn't interrupt your Saturday, did I?"

"No, of course not, it's great to hear your voice," she scoffed, "I'm finishing my makeup to go out with my friends, we're going to the movies."

"Oh, what are you watching?"

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

Max was feeling more than a little jittery.

After the call with Wendy, it wasn't long until he got a text from Leo saying that "of course he was still invited, no need to RSVP" and followed by "do you want to get lunch this weekend?"

The last person to invite him out for lunch had been Vince, whom along with Wendy were the only two people to ever do it. Max remembered the blonde from the cabin, he had chatted with Leo a while and had liked him immediately, but the fact that it apparently had been mutual had him floored.

They agreed on having lunch in Welton, so Max could crash Vince and Wen's place that night, before driving back to Doveport. It was a good idea, this way he could exchange Vin's motorcycle for his pickup truck, as they had agreed.

Wendy had sounded very excited when he texted her about this, while Vince had seemed confused by Max going out with Leo exclusively, but overall still supportive.

Now Max wished Vince was here, just in case awkward silences were to follow.

Leo was already outside the restaurant they agreed to meet on and Max cringed, checking his watch. He wasn't late, two minutes didn't count, right?

Now that he was outside of the group and clearly feeling shy himself, Max could get a better read of him. Leo was tall, with a bit of a baby face — wide blue eyes and rosy cheeks that made him look angelical — and he made Max feel out of place. Like Max was Leo's evil doppelganger or something, their aesthetics clashed all the way.

"Dude, I love the sleeve," were Leo's first words and it took Max a second as he realized the other man was pointing out his tattoos, "how long did it take to get it done?"

Or maybe they didn't clash as much as Max thought.

"Four sessions of five hours each," he answered, grinning as Leo's eyebrows jumped up and he looked spooked at the sheer amount of time, "it doesn't hurt, though, it's just annoying to sit still for so long."

"Not sure I believe you," Leo scoffed and they entered the restaurant together.

Max hadn't told Leo about how much of a little bitch his stomach was. It felt weird to give people a heads up and even more so when it was a guy that he... Wanted to impress?

He couldn't quite pinpoint what he wanted, it was a mix of excitement and embarrassment that Leo had met him exactly one time and thought he was not only worth a wedding invitation, but been eager to get lunch with him. It was validating in the best way, while still making him feel like he was naked in a crowded room.

Max soon found out Leo was different from Vince and Wendy, a welcome surprise. He wasn't nearly as talkative, which initially made Max very nervous, but Leo was a great listener and had a snoopy streak, which kept Max talking during most of lunch. He asked about Doveport, if he had ever travelled around or not, about Max's parents, then about the divorce. At the mention of his difficult childhood, Daniels noticed Leo perking up in a manner that at first irked him, until he realized a minute later that it wasn't pity, but sympathy from someone who had gone through something similar.

Leo didn't offer information about his life, not like Vin did, but much like Wendy he didn't shy away from talking when asked. He was an only child and his family was the little group that Max currently trying to infiltrate.

"Don't say that, as if you're the enemy," Leo rolled his eyes, "besides, might as well consider mission accomplished. All you have to do is flip Luke."

"Not happening anytime soon," Max opened an amused smile at the thought. He wasn't daft or deaf, he was terribly aware Lucas didn't like him and was horribly jealous of Max around his friends.

"You're selling yourself short," Leo grinned back, chasing the vegetables on his plate, "Bell likes you, that's more than halfway there."

"Bella's great," Max volunteered the compliment, watching as Leo nodded along, "it's a wonder she married that guy."

"Watch it, Daniels, he's my best friend too," Leo spared him a quick glare, tone still playful, but with a hint of seriousness behind it. A warning.

"How did this whole gang come together anyway? You were dating Jonah already?"

Leo seemed eager to talk about how he had met Jon and Max quickly learned that Leo was this happy to talk about it, because no one else had ever asked. Everyone just assumed they met in the football team in college.

"And didn't you?" Max muffled a burp against his fist, grimacing slightly at the shrimp taste. He didn't want to finish his dish, but it was weird to sit there not eating, despite the fact it was sitting heavily in his stomach.

"We did," Leo perked up, "but not quite. I met him for the first time outside of the college administration building. I was there getting everything sorted for the semester, because I was a full ride student, and Jonah was talking with the dean, shaking hands and smiling. He was... So handsome. I mean, he is. I remember I thought he was an actor for some ad they'd be running, I was just staring for the longest minute..." Leo cleared his throat, suddenly turning all red, "but he didn't even glance my way."

"You didn't talk with him?" Max leaned back, fighting the urge to unbutton his jeans, "or matched him on Tinder or stalk him on social media? C'mon, do you have any game?"

Leo scowled at that, rolling his eyes, "I'll have you know I have plenty game- It was just new territory. New town, new people, no friends... Stalking a stranger wasn't anywhere near my priorities. Besides, I met him anyways when I joined the team three months later. Fate or whatever."

"Or whatever," Max smiled at that, then muffled another burp against his hand. The ache in his gut was quickly going from a mild annoyance to a full blown upset episode. He could feel it churning sluggishly and the after taste in his mouth was making him nauseous. He reached for the glass of sprite, chugging the rest of it, "and you hit it off right away?"

It was clear that was one of Leo's favorite topics to talk about, because for the first time all evening he was taking over the conversation, much to Max's relief.

Much like the nausea was steadily rising, so seemed to be Leo's engagement in the conversation. So much for quiet and shy, now he was rambling on about copyright laws and Max didn't have the faintest idea of how they had arrived at this topic. He vaguely understood that Leo was a fancy big shot lawyer, but whatever copyright laws even meant was beyond him and Max couldn't focus as the shrimp pasta continued to swirl in his belly.

He muffled another burp in his fist just as Leo flagged down a waiter, saying in the most determined fact, "let's get the chocolate mousse for dessert."

The thought of dessert had Max nearly gagging on the spot. He swallowed down the bitter saliva pooling in his mouth, wiping the sweat collecting above his upper lip and his temples.

His stomach let out a grumble, loud enough he could hear, but still low enough he wasn't aware if it was audible for Leo.

"-So are you?"

Uh.

Max winced, leg bouncing up and down, "am I what?"

"Staying at the villa?"

"Uhm, what-" he couldn't stop a wet burp from rolling out, a whole body shudder from following, "what villa?"

Leo squinted at him. He had big round eyes and seemed like a completely different person when he squinted them like that, studying Max up and down, "are you sick? You're pale as a ghost..."

"No, just- Uuurp, juss'give me a minute," Max grumbled, springing up and deciding there was no way he could try and be a gentleman about this. Fuck his life. He rushed through the restaurant, the layout unknown, and just barely made it past the bathroom door before he hit a wall of nausea.

Max crumpled in front of a toilet, heaving immediately, not even bothering shutting the door and hugging the porcelain bowl with both arms. For a minute the whole world faded, the outside noise vanishing as his stomach cramped and squeezed, forcing up a thick sludge, splashing inside the toilet.

Max panted, rocking forward with another violent heave and dizzily reaching for the flush, his hands trembling and sweaty. He could feel little bits in the back of his throat and it caused him to break into a coughing fit.

Suddenly there was patting on his back. Gentle, a hand cupping his forehead and pushing back Max's hair, "aw man," Leo cooed, softly, "why didn't you say you were sick?"

Max retched, violently, going deaf for a second, then spat a glob of saliva and pushed back, collapsing against the stall's plastic wall. Leo was crouched down right next to him, looking beyond worried, all spooked, a wad of toilet paper crumpled in his fist.

"Max?"

"Not-" he palmed his belly, pressing on it and bring up a burp, "not sick... Lunch was too rich, that'ssall..." his words got sticky and he tipped to the side to spit the saliva accumulating in his mouth, letting out a nasty burp as the position pressed on his belly.

Behind him, he heard Leo let out an insensitive "Ew, gross."

Max fell back against the wall, noticing Leo's wrinkled nose. It wasn't sympathy nausea, but he was clearly grossed out and Max couldn't help laughing at Leo's disgust. He expected to be cooed and fussed over, given Leo's soft spoken way...

"Rude?" Max closed his eyes, bumping his knee against the other man's and causing Leo to let out a scoff.

"So is wiping your mouth like that, Max," Leo pushed the toilet paper in his hand, "are you sure you're not sick? You're pretty pale..."

"No," Max cleaned the sticky saliva from his palm, then from his chin, throwing the crumpled tissue in the toilet and accepting another wad so he could wipe the sweat off his face, "just gotta give it a minute, my stomach's a bitch."

Leo's frown cleared up and he sprung up so he could stand against the wall, instead of being in that weird crouched down position since he refused to sit on the ground, "you get that often?"

"Yeah," Max squirmed, pressing the heel of his hand against his upset, bloated stomach and trying to work up another burp. He just needed the nausea to recede enough that he could get out of the ground, "it fucking hates me..."

Leo let out a hum, studying him like Max was an interesting bug and causing the other man to blush profusely.

"Don't stare at me, it's rude," Max bit out, throwing Leo a glare and the younger man shrugged, chuckling.

"I'm just rethinking my wedding invitation, what the hell are you even going to eat there?" Leo teased him, and it was so out of the left field and so unexpected, that Daniels let out a hearty cackle.

"Oh, you're an asshole," he said and although it was an insult, his words were filled with glee. Common ground. The weird tension in his shoulders melted off, "I'll manage, Leo, thank you so much for caring."

"I'll make sure we have saltines for your delicate stomach," Leo was grinning as he said that, "and maybe tea."

"Maybe," Max snorted, rolling his eyes, "fuck off, they probably think we left without paying the bill. Give me a moment here."

Leo was positively gleeful now. He took one step, then hesitated, "you're not gonna drown in there, are you?"

Max snorted and flipped him off, leaning back his head with a relieved sigh and suddenly feeling like he was actually invited to the wedding.

[supersecretsickplace]

OH MY GOD ONCE AGAIN THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!!!!!!! i’ve had patients with cluster headaches and i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone write it so perfectly. it’s so scary and hard to understand for people but this is SPOT ON!! you’re the best soup!! thank you thank you!

Yes I really wanted a long fic for Luke to have a really bad cluster headache and Vince there for him 🥹🥹

Moving Day - Electric Boogaloo

"Do you guys need help?" Wendy asked, as if she could do much about the large boxes sitting on the back of Daniel's borrowed pickup.

Vince let out a snort at his girlfriend, giving her a once over as he balanced the box on his shoulder. She was wearing heels tied at her ankles and a lemon patterned sundress. This offer was ritual, she was clearly on her way out.

"And you're gonna carry boxes on heels?" Luke voiced his thoughts, leaning to grab a heavy box filled with books.

Wendy pouted, "maybe I am," she frowned, hands on her hips and Vince grinned from ear to ear, taking a step forward so he could steal a kiss.

"God, you're adorable," he planted a kiss on her forehead, chuckling as her nose wrinkled since he was sweaty and she had makeup on, "we got this. Where are you going?"

"Barbie asked me out for brunch, you don't mind, right?"

"Nah, we got this," Vince knew that this was actually just Wendy letting him enjoy Luke's company on his own. Even though they had made up, Vince hadn't been able to hang out with Lucas until now, since he had been forced to stay in Doveport to sort through his moving details, participate in Soph's graduation and see her off to college.

"Alright," Wendy let out a squeal as Vince swatted her ass, "caveman... You two have fun."

Luke was chuckling as Wen walked past them, getting inside her baby pink sedan and waving goodbye before she drove out of the garage, "Ah Wendy..." he let out a fond sigh, causing Vince's smile to grow even more.

"She's the best," he beamed, walking ahead to get a hold of the elevator. Luke followed him, closing the bed of the trunk with his hip and all but skipping despite the heavy box in his arms. He was wearing a snapback to keep the hair out of his face and his cheeks were pink from all the trips up and down they had done already.

"Did you get Jonah's text with the schedule for the wedding?" Vince asked, holding the elevator door open with his foot, so Luke could get in, "we have a suit test...? I'm not worried about the price because I know Leo has common sense, even if Jon doesn't, but am I wrong for starting to get the feel they're buying us suits...?"

"Well, you're-" Luke blinked several times, collapsing against the metal wall of the cargo elevator, "you're one of the best men, of course he is..."

Vince frowned at the weird infliction on Luke's voice, pressing the 6th button and planting his box down on the ground. No sense holding it up all the way, "I can buy my own suit."

"The one Jon wants, no, you can't," Lucas rolled his eyes, but now his smile was a little uneasy and he too put down his box, bracing against his knees, "Uhm..."

"Are you okay?" Vince took a step closer, planting a hand on Luke's shoulder. The guy nodded, although something was off and Vin could tell. It was a really warm day, yes, and they had been carrying boxes for the past 20 minutes, but Lucas had been a quarterback. He exercised daily. Nothing justified how out of breath he seemed or the way his loose wifebeater was covered with sweat and gluing down to his back.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." Luke's voice was slow and strained and he was still bent in half, staring at the ground. The elevator came to a stop. Vince picked up his box and stepped out, planting it on the hallway and then grabbing Luke's box. His friend hadn't moved to get it, which was a glaring red flag.

"I'an-Iuhm- I'aneeet.." Luke mumbled and Vince did his best not to panic. The slurred speech was terrifying, no matter that he had heard it before when a migraine hit him.

"No, stay put," Vince removed the second box, then grabbed Luke's bicep, "c'mon, let's get you lying down..." Wendy had left the front door of her apartment wide open, since they were coming and going so often and Vin dragged Lucas inside.

Luke promptly stumbled over the welcome mat, bracing against the shelf which lined the front door, falling on the cushioned seat that shielded away their at home shoe rack.

"Okay, stay- Stay," Vince pleaded, rushing back to the hallway so he could grab the two ditched boxes. He pushed them inside, then slammed the door shut, turning his full attention to Lucas who was half collapsed, leaning on his seat like the Pisa Tower.

"Luke," he crouched down before his friend, "buddy, hey-" Vince reached in, grabbing Lucas' chin so he wasn't in that weird, terrifying crumpled position and letting out a hiss between his teeth. The right side of Luke's face was collapsed, green eye almost swallowed by the blown pupil, mouth in a weird frown down, tears leaking out of the corner.

No matter how many times Vince saw it, it would never cease being scary as fuck.

"Vvvee- een," Luke struggled to push the word past his unresponsive lips, drooling a little as he did. Vin, "Uhh-uuhtsss..."

"I know, I know," Vince whispered, his heart racing and hands all sweaty, "let's get you lying down, okay? In the dark," he grabbed Luke's arm, throwing it around his shoulders and then wrapped his arm around his best friend's waist, pulling him up.

The minute he did, Luke let out a cry, like he had been stabbed. His snapback fell down as he crumpled, knees buckling from the pain, and Vince silently cursed, jumping to catch Luke by his armpits.

"Alright, bridal it is-" he winced at the thought — Lucas wasn't a small guy — but immediately got to it, throwing both of Luke's arms around his shoulders and-

Luke seized with a gag, whole body shaking with it, "Veee-"

"Shit," Vince gently pushed him sitting back down once more. There was no way he could carry Luke and also contain the mess, "hold on, buddy, give me a minute-"

Lucas didn't have a minute. He gagged again and then his head fell forward, causing Vince to rush to cup his forehead as he vomited between his legs, all over the tulips rug at the entrance.

"Oh Luke..." Vince whispered, shuffling around so he kept his hand on Lucas' forehead, the other one on his back, "get it up, that's fine..." he made a note to text Wendy about the rug, because he doubted that could be salvaged.

Lucas' whole body seized as he retched once more, the only thing keeping him from taking a dive in the mess being Vince's firm grip on him, "you're good, Luke," Vin cooed, knowing he wasn't making much sense, grabbing his friend' snapback before it fell and grimacing as his hair covered Vince's hand on his sweaty forehead, "I got you."

It seemed to go on for forever, but it was probably only ten minutes, as Luke's retches ran empty and turned into painful dry heaves that caused him to whimper, tears running down his cheek and a line of drool hanging from his bottom lip as he struggled to breathe.

As he was reduced to a mess of incoherent groans, Vince patted his shoulder softly, squeezing Luke's nape, "done?"

"Urgh..." Luke mumbled, crumpling to the side as Vince pulled him in, coordination so shot that he smacked his cheek against Vin's shoulder and let out a pained whimper, "Vee-en-"

"Ouch," Vince sighed, rubbing his chin against the top of Luke's head, "alright, let's get you lying down."

Lifting Luke was a task on the best of days, no matter how big Vince was, no matter how many hours he spent at the gym. It was an even bigger one when there was a puddle of sick to be avoided and his best friend's head was lolling like a baby's, eyes rolled into his skull and Vin's heart drumming into his ears.

He was huffing and puffing, back burning, as he managed to stumble into the main suite and all but fall with Lucas on the bed, the whole thing shaking as they sank into the mattress.

Luke let out another whimper, curling up and grabbing his hair by the root, hitting his forehead with closed fists and trying to crawl out of his own body.

"Hey, no," Vince rolled on the bed, grabbing Luke's fists and squirming so he could push himself up by the elbows, "no, don't hurt yourself, dude..."

Lucas answered him with a sob, "uuurtssss..." he hissed, whole face scrunching up as he continued to cry, "eel'me..."

No matter how many times he heard that pained infliction in Luke's voice, it'd never cease to break his heart. Vince threw his legs off the bed, sitting by Luke's head and pulling him closer, so his best friend could hide his face against his thigh, "I know," he whispered, a knot squeezing his throat, "I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

He ran a hand up Luke's back, his wifebeater was soaked with sweat, arms covered with goosebumps. There was a bruise forming on his cheek where he had slammed it against Vin's shoulder and he let out another gag-sob, teeth gritting as he pressed his face with all his force to Vin's thigh.

"Breathe..." Vin whispered, his voice wavering, running his fingers softly through Luke's greasy hair, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. He needed a cold compress, medicine pumped through his veins, drugs so strong they'd knock Lucas into next week. However, Vince felt like he could move, not when Luke was pressed to him so tightly.

A couple minutes passed, no sound but Luke's laborious breath, sniffles... A soft snore. His whole body slumping as fight depleted him, tension leaving so quickly that for a horrible split second Vince thought he had passed out instead of falling asleep.

Vin let out a sigh of relief, from deep his lungs, pulling with it a choked out sob of his own. He'd do anything to trade places at this moment, anything but sit there helplessly watching Lucas' brain eat at itself.

Very carefully not to wake his friend up, Vin slid out of the bed, replacing his thigh for a pillow under Luke's cheek and rushing out of the room to sort the mess.

He cleaned the front door, put the boxes out of the way, put the rug in the washing machine even though he thought it'd do fuckall and it was a lost cause. Grabbed a mixing bowl and wet a towel, returning to the room. Someone else might've been hesitant about planting the humid towel over Luke's eyes, scared of waking him up, but Vince wasn't.

Luke stirred, let out a groan, but didn't wake up. Vince's shoulders dropped and he sat on the corner of the bed, keeping the washcloth in place and running his fingers through his hair, worry gnawing at him as the minutes passed by. With his whole face slack like this, Vince no longer could see the partial paralysis, but that didn't mean the episode was over.

About an hour into the sleep, Luke rolled around, letting out a hiss and blindly reaching out, his hand finding Vin's wrist, "Vin...?"

"Hey, it's me, I'm here," Vince whispered, leaning in, "how's your head?"

"Hurtsss..." Luke's eyes were still tightly squeezed shut, "don't feel well..."

"Like you're going to be sick?" Vince guessed, reaching for the empty mixing bowl. His friend hesitated for a second, before nodding as he swallowed in convulsively, struggling to push himself up on his elbows.

Immediately Vin put the bowl under his chin, his free arm wrapping around Luke's back and holding him put, "I got you, let it up..."

A belch rolled past his lips and some specks of saliva fell in the bowl, but all he managed was a weak gag, continuing to hiccup and burp for good thirty seconds.

"You're empty," Vince sighed, patting his back gently, "Luke, you're empty, breathe-"

Lucas shook his head, a harsh heave wrecking through him, loud and guttural, followed by another- "Oh no..."

Vince glanced down, then felt his stomach freeze with dread as he saw bright red blood in the bowl, Luke's retches fading into the background as he stared at it, "what- what the fuck...?" he immediately let go of the bowl on the mattress so he could cup Luke's face, the possibility of being puked on be damned.

A blood vessel had burst in his right eye and there was blood running down his nose, gushing really. The face paralysis was back and Lucas looked terrifying.

"That's it," Vince decided, "hospital."

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

When Luke came back to, he was lying on the hospital bed and had the distinct feeling he had missed several hours of his life. His mind was hazy, he couldn't remember much after having thrown up on Wendy's pretty entryway rug... There were colorful dots in his sigh, aura pulsating around the only light sources in the room, the grey light filtering under the door and the blinking red dot on the turned off TV.

He rolled his head and cringed as he saw Bella curled up to his right side, wrapped up in what he initially thought was a blanket, but soon realized was Vin's jacket. She had a hand tightly wrapped around his wrist, vicious grip even as she slept.

Then Luke looked to his left and jerked, startled.

"What are you doing...!?" He hissed, adrenaline suddenly making his heart pound as he took in the scene. Vince was down on his knees on the left side of his bed, hands clasped together, the silver cross he always wore was now wrapped around his hands and his head was bowed.

Oh. He was praying.

Vince opened his eyes at Luke's scared whisper, then his whole face became cartoonishly surprised and he all but tackled Luke into a hug.

"You're up- Finally, you're- You're okay..."

Lucas groaned at being strangled, but let Vince hug him without a complaint, burying his nose against his friend's shoulder. He smelt like bleach and sweat, lavender aftershave long faded. How long had it been since the episode started...?

As if reading his mind, Vince pulled back, making the cross sign and finishing with a quiet "amen", then saying a little louder, "I brought you here a little before lunch... It's-" he sniffled, rubbing his face, "just around 3 AM."

Oh fuck, so more than twelve hours. No wonder Vince looked like a mess. His curls were sticking out everywhere and he was shaking, chin wobbling as he pressed a hand to his mouth and muffled a sob.

"Hey," Luke groaned, reaching out with his left hand so he could tug on the hem of Vince's shirt, "I'm alright... I'm fine."

"You were not fine," Vince's voice came out choked up, "you scared the shit out of me, Luke..."

"I'm sorry," Lucas pouted, although he felt silly saying it and Vin waved off his words.

"I'm just- Just give me a minute," Vince lowered himself to the chair he was occupying, which was far too small for him. He had given the big one to Bell. Lucas chewed on his lip as he watched Vin take slow, deep breaths, not knowing what else to say besides apologizing.

"Uhm- Was Wendy too mad at me? About her rug?"

Vince let out a watery chuckle, hiding his face in his hands and shaking his head, "no, of- Of course not," he laughed, "...Your doctor wants to put you on new drugs. Sumapi-Sumasomething... A spray."

Luke let out a groan, he was always more than a little suspicious of trying new drugs, after he had reacted so badly to his antidepressants.

Vince shrugged, "can't be any worse than the headaches, Luke."

"Fair," Lucas rolled his head, letting his cheek sink against the pillow and allowing his eyes to slip closed for a second, "I missed you."

Vince let out a strangled noise, then he heard the chair being pulled closer and felt his best friend's fingers on his hair, petting. Sleep sank its claws deep into him, pulling him down, "Vin...?"

"Yeah?" Vince continued to stroke away his hair, thumb roughly touching Luke's prickly cheeks.

"Did you punch me?"

"What?"

"My cheek hurts."

[supersecretsickplace]

UPDATE: I LIVED!!!

one night here and i’m good to go! <4 send me some fic recommendations hehehe

MWAH!

anna

[supersecretsickplace]

i’m getting surgery in about 30 minutes 🤪

send all the good vibes. it’s really no biggie, but it is very VERY sudden.

love you all and i’ll update after!!

MWAH

[supersecretsickplace]

icky why are men….. so much like men.

[supersecretsickplace]

yuck …. i don’t know if i ate something gross or what, but I’m not feeling great :’)

i got covid like a month again and have felt vaguely bleh since, but this is the first time i’ve felt ACTIVELY nauseous

i’ll keep you guys updated….

<4

MWAH!

[supersecretsickplace]

oh. my. god. soup. you dear sweet angel. this is the best thing i’ve ever read? I NEED A WEN/VINCE/MAX FIC. MY PATIENCE IS BEING TESTED THESE THREE ARE SOULMATES!!!!!!

all jokes aside, soupie you have OUTDONE yourself on this one. shy max crushing on vince? wendy passing vin off onto max? i’m literally crying thank you thank you thank you.

Prom

The so requested fic where Max gives Vin a belly rub

--------

"The forest green one will look so lovely on you," Wendy's voice travelled through the phone, exhausted, but still bubbly. Vince opened a smile, continuing to shave, "send me a million pictures."

"A teacher taking selfies at prom is cringy, honey," he snorted, rolling his eyes. Part of him was feeling a little stung that Wendy wasn't his date for the night, but she had a surgery lined up for that evening and he understood that took priority. Even if he really wanted her there.

"Well, ask your mom, I don't know," she was clearly pouting, "at least send me one picture of you all dressed up, it's the bare minimum."

"I will," Vince chuckled, washing his face and patting some aftershave, "are you alright, Wen? You're sounding a little down."

"I'm fine," she dismissed him easily, "missing you. I can't believe you'll be living with me in two weeks, feels like I'm dreaming."

He could tell she was dodging the topic, but that didn't stop Vin from smiling, walking back into his room so he could put on the tuxedo laid out on the bed, "I know how you feel, honey... I love you, you know?" it felt weird saying that, as if he didn't say it every day, but Vince couldn't quell the feeling that something was off. Hopefully she was just focused on the upcoming surgery and missing him, as she had said.

"I love you too," the noise on her side of the line intensified, the doctor's lounge door opening, he assumed, "get some pictures of Sophia as well, I wanna see her dress. She texted me the options but never told me each one she picked."

"I will, I will-" Vince grinned at the thought, he liked how much Sophia seemed to respect Wendy. It was entirely unexpected, she thought he was the lamest guy alive, so Vince was prepared for that opinion to extend to his immediate circle as well, but Soph clearly thought Wendy was the coolest.

"I got to run, I love you. Get drunk for me!"

"I will! Love you too, good luck at the surgery!"

Vince hadn't been to a prom since his own had happened, eight years before. It was weird to be there as a teacher and chaperone, when the last time he had been a student.

"She looks lovely," Max said, planting a hand on Vin's shoulder and the other man startled, jumping on the spot. He had been all but lost watching the seniors line up in front of the floral backdrop for pictures, Sophia squeezed in the middle of her group of cheerleaders and all of them smiling and making silly faces to the camera.

"She does," Vin agreed, then turned to look at Max and raised his eyebrows. He was used to seeing Max in ripped jeans and band t-shirts, but now he was in a full suit, beard trimmed and conditioned, jacket already discarded and sleeves rolled up showcasing the tattoos that wrapped around his right arm. Hair slicked back, "you too man, you look great."

It was to his amusement that he saw Max's cheeks turn pink and him raise his champagne flute, chugging down the rest as he looked away, "shut up..." he mumbled, ears all red and causing Vin to smile from ear to ear.

"Thanks, Vince, you look great too," Vince mocked his voice and what he should've answered, causing the blonde to scoff, shoulders dropping as the tension eased.

"Eh, not that great," Daniels teased him, poking Vin's side with his elbow, "the smoothed back curls were a mistake."

Vin pouted, then flipped his head upside down and shook at the roots of it, straightening up and shaking his mane of hair, "better?" he raised an eyebrow, just as Max frowned at him, tugging at his neckline.

"I-uhm- Well-"

Vince's smirk only grew at his friend's disconcert, patting the blonde's cheek as he took a step forward, phone in hand to grab a picture of Sophia, "should've kept your mouth shut, Max," he teased, winking at the guy and chuckling as he walked away.

Getting Soph to stand still for a picture was like herding cats, but with some glaring and huffing and puffing, he managed to get a full body shot to send to Wendy, as well as a picture of them together.

Then she was lost in the crowd and he relegated to his real role as a chaperone, making sure the students weren't harming themselves or each other, that none of them were drinking — as if —, that he was taking all the pics in a million different cellphones as requested-

"Were you prom king?" Max asked quietly, as Vince filmed Sophia twirling around in her prom queen sash, dancing with the king, whom was actually a nerdy dude from her class and not one of the quarterbacks. A pleasant surprise.

"Nope," Vin snorted at the thought, finishing recording as the song turned into another one of the Top 40 hits and they pulled apart, Sophia immediately surrounded by her friends, giggling and jumping, "I was nominated though."

"Of course you were," Max rolled his eyes, then smiled as a group of the students came to tug at his arm for him to join them on the dancefloor. He did the obligatory denial, until the seniors' whining was too much and then he nodded, letting out a fake frustrated huff, "if you insist..."

Vince leaned back against his pillar, chuckling as he saw Max in the middle of the group, pulling all the outdated moves. Doing the Michael Jackson and twirling the multiple students who came to dance with him, all of the girls blushing like crazy as he did that.

Prom "ended" around 12 AM, but Vince was well aware none of those students were actually heading home. It was part of his duty to oversee them getting out, making sure no one was getting in a car without wanting to, that everything was alright and then finally it was his turn to call it a night.

"After party at my place?" Max thumped his back. His face was all flushed and if Vin didn't know any better, he would've thought the blonde was drunk, but no, he was just euphoric and it was clear why. Those students adored him and were having the time of their lives with him joining in the dancing and joking around.

"Sure," Vin nodded, already undoing his tie as he walked out of the venue, "I'll meet you there."

Max was in his living room as Vince walked in, having already changed out of his social clothes into much looser sweatpants and a sweater, shaking a cocktail mixer.

"And now to the real party," he grinned, lighting up as Vince threw his blazer and tie on top of his couch and walked closer to get a drink, "cheers!"

"Cheers!" Vince clanked his beer can against Max's metal cocktail mixer, chuckling and almost choking as the drank straight from it.

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

Vince woke up with his phone ringing.

An incessant noise coming from somewhere above his head and causing him to let out a groan, trying to smother his face into the pillow.

More ringing, then Max's voice, "hi gorgeous," all lighthearted and breathy, "no, he's here... Hold on, let me turn on the camera-" then Vince's arm was being poked and Max was trying to roll him on his back, "wakey wakey sleeping beauty, Wendy wants to see your face."

Vince scrunched up his face, groaning once more and trying to swat Max away. The mattress shook as the blonde jumped out of reach. Wendy giggling.

"Oh poor thing," cooing... Making fun of him?

A headache was forming behind his left eye, thumping away, and there was a horrible taste in his mouth. Max's voice once more, talking with Wendy. More giggling. He was gonna be sick.

He rolled on his back, staring at the ceiling and trying to will his stomach into staying put. He felt like he was a balloon filled with acid, burning his throat and stomach, swirling around... The ceiling was hazy, no matter how much he blinked trying to get it into focus-

Vince lurched to the side and vomited. His headache went up a notch and his stomach cramped as a large wave of vulcanic-lava got past his lips and hit the rug next to Max's bed, stinging his nose. Head hanging over the side of the bed, a long line of thick drool hanging from his lips.

"Oh shit!" Max's voice went up a note, turning all squealy and Vince heard Wendy groaning and then a chuckle.

"He's all yours."

"Fuck, Vince, you couldn't have said anything?" Max's hand was calloused as it cupped Vin's forehead, keeping him from nosediving on the mess on the ground. He was barefoot, sidestepping the puddle. Vin squeeze his eyes shut, stomach continuing to churn the acidic sludge and his head pounding away.

"Okay, okay, okay-" Max was mumbling to himself. The hand on Vin's forehead disappeared and his head fell forward, neck straining and a twinge of pain going down his back. A gross burp rolled past his lips, deep from his gut, followed by a string of smaller ones, breathier and more like Vince's usual belches-

The next wave of vomit fell inside a plastic bowl, Max's hand returned, now planted on his back, patting a little too hard, "there you go, get that shit up..."

Vince coughed and heaved once more, letting out an annoyed groan at Max's continuous pats, which were causing his stomach to lurch, "sssstop," he slurred, spitting up another mouthful of frothy vomit and struggling to clear his throat, "stop pa-HIC!-patting..."

"Oh," Max's hand froze in place and Vince let out yet another groan, hanging over the bowl as he tried to figure out if his stomach was done or not. His belly hurt, all over.

He coughed once more, letting out another one of those deep rumbly burps and then rolled away, on his back once more.

"You good?" Max was squinting at him, "not gonna puke on my pillow?"

Vince's cheeks burned with embarrassment and humiliation at the mess he had just caused. What a hassle, "I can- Uorp- I can clean it up..." he offered, trying to push himself up, only for Max to shove him back down much like a bully.

"No, you cannot," the blonde glared at him, "stay put, you're too big for me to be manhandling around."

He didn't need to be told twice. Vince threw an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming inside the room and tried to ignore the awful churning happening in his stomach or the noise of Max moving around. Bleach smell.

Vin lurched up, cupping a hand over his mouth and gagging several times.

"Dude, c'mon," Max sounded torn between amused and frustrated as he dropped the cleaning supplies in order to grab the ditched bowl and hold it under Vince's mouth.

"I-I..." Vince spat inside of it, clammy hand grabbing the beveled edge, "I got it..."

"Uhm..." Max didn't sound so sure, but he did nod stiffly and went back to cleaning, while Vince continued to gag fruitlessly over the bowl, the strong smell of cleaning making his stomach revolt.

"You're gonna burst a vein like this," Max said after a long minute, returning to the room as he put away the supplies, "take a breath, Vin."

"Gotta- Gotta shower..." Vince groaned, feeling gross. He was slightly more aware now; He was still in the tuxedo social pants, although God knows where his belt had vanished to. Instead of the forest green shirt, he was wearing only the white wifebeater he head under it, and covered in cold sweat. His hair was matted down and he felt like he had dried sand on his face, which Vin hoped was just sweat and not vomit.

"Yeah, you do," Max chuckled, opening the chest of drawers that was next to his bed... How did Vince end up in the guy's room? Last he remembered they were doing shots in the kitchen. Max grabbed a rolled towel out of the drawer, "you're alright to get up?"

"How aren't you sick?" Vince asked sourly, lowering the bowl away from his face, the smell of bile and alcohol making him nauseous all over again.

"I handle my liquor better than you?" Max suggested and received an unimpressed glare from Vin. Not only he had seen the blonde sick from just a couple of beers before, but this was Daniels, whose gut had a personal vendetta against him.

"I pulled the trigger before going to bed and when I woke up, a while ago," Max admitted with a sheepish shrug, "so? Can you get up?"

"I can," Vince grabbed the headboard, stumbling up and groaning as his socks met the still a little humid carpet, "God-" he gagged in his hand, "I'm so sorry."

"Eh, whatever, its not the first time someone pukes on this shitty carpet," Max rolled his eyes, handing him the towel he was holding.

Once inside the bathroom, Vince tried to put together his memories. It was rare that he got drunk to the point of being sick, so he almost didn't know what to do with himself.

The cold shower helped him feel more like a person, although he did end up heaving for several minutes. His stomach was sticking out, bloated and grumbling at every little turn, clearly upset with his previous night's adventures.

There was a knock on the door, as he wrapped the towel around his hip and end up sitting on the closed toilet due to how dizzy he was, "Come in!"

"Uhm," Max's face was pink and he was nervously scratching at his beard as he threw a rolled up pair of sweats on Vince's lap, "figured you don't wanna put last night's pants back on... I-uhm," he squeezed his eyes shut, as if the sight of the other guy was a little too much for his brain and Vince let out a snort, "made breakfast if you wanna stick around."

There was a telling infliction to his last couple of words. Guarded hope, as if he didn't want to admit to how much he didn't want Vince to leave.

"Thanks," Vin mumbled, trying to summon some energy to dress the pants that certainly were too small for him, "I'll stick around for breakfast, yeah."

"Alright," Max nodded, then slammed the door shut behind him.

The pants weren't as tight as Vince had expected them to be, although they were ridiculously short. A bigger problem was how bloated his belly was and how they were cutting into it, even though he had stretched the cords as much as possible.

Max had left an oversized shirt on top of his bed and Vince was still dressing it as he walked into the cramped kitchen. He could smell eggs and bacon, and his mouth watered, at the same time as his belly let out an angry growl. Nausea and hunger mixing in.

"Just a couple bites, it'll help," Max told him and only then did Vince realize he was hanging by the fridge, eating a bland sandwich stuffed with eggs, but no bacon.

Vince put together a small plate with eggs and bacon, then sat down at Max's teeny tiny dinner table, taking small bites between gags and cupping his forehead with a hand as his head continued to throb, "did I embarrass myself last night?"

"Oh yeah," Max chuckled, planting a glass of water and a Tylenol pill in front of him, "all teary eyed about baby sister going to college and how you'll miss Doveport and you'll miss little old me..."

Vince let out a snort, "nothing I wouldn't say sober then," he gulped down the water and then pushed the eggs away, burping in his fist and grimacing as his stomach seemed confused on what to do with breakfast, "just that?"

"I guess?" Max shrugged, sitting before him, "cried about Atwood too. I didn't know you guys had fought."

Now Vince blushed, shrugging and glaring at his lap, "we've made up now."

"Uh-hum," Max thumped his foot rhythmically against Vince's chair, "that was most of it. Your Andrea Bocelli impression sucks, by the way."

Vince ducked his head, blowing out a little burp and chuckling, "if that's all, I'll live... Sorry about your carpet..."

Max rolled his eyes, "breakfast is staying down?"

"Not sure," Vince said honestly. He was ravenous, but his stomach was churning uncomfortably and he couldn't help a shudder at the nauseous feeling, "I'll get out of your hair-"

"Do you think a belly rub would help?" Max blurted out, face ablaze and seeming just as surprised as Vince was over the proposition.

Vin pressed his lips, fighting a smile. He wasn't sure how much of this was Max's crush or how much it was just the blonde basking into human connection, the awkwardness, the stuttering...

Max was clearly drinking up all the attention and shared space and the fact he had offered was a huge deal. Vince could count in one had the amount of times Max had volunteered affection or intimacy. Not that he wasn't affectionate, but he was always reacting to what Vince initiated, instead of starting anything. This felt like a triumph.

"Sure," Vince said, just as Max opened his mouth to probably retract the offer, "that would be great."

"Uh-Ok..." Max stumbled up, looking puzzled and lost, "you don't- You don't fit on my couch..." He was clearly reminiscing on the belly rub Wendy had given him, back when he had broken his ankle. To this day he was still limping around, though it might've been due to all the dancing around he had done at prom.

"Bed," Vince said, carefully keeping any amusement from his words. The last thing he wanted was for Max to feel like he was making fun of him, this was a big deal, "if you don't mind?"

"I don't mind," Max shook his head, walking ahead of Vin and the other man let out a groan as he got up, wrapping an arm around his stomach. His whole body ached and it hadn't been long enough for the headache to fade, although eating something had helped it ease just a little.

He fell onto the bed with a grunt, causing the whole thing to jostle and Max to chuckle, then Vince squirmed around, so he was lying across Max's lap, using the man's legs as a pillow.

"Tell me if I'm messing it up... Or if you'll hurl, preferably before you get sick on my bed," Max mumbled, turning on his TV and clicking around the remote, busying himself with anything but the belly rub.

An episode of The X-Files started playing and then Max carefully placed a hand on Vince's upset stomach, over his shirt.

He didn't know what to do, moving it in gentle circles, too gentle to help at all. Vince grimaced as his stomach gurgled, a sickly little burp coming up, "put some more pressure," he placed his hand over Max's, pressing it in against his stomach, "and, uhm-" he tugged on his shirt, so the other man's palm met skin, instead of the fabric, "better this way."

"Okay," Max sounded unsure, "is this right...?"

"Yeah, its great," Vince yawned, burying his nose against Max's thigh and stretching on the bed as the belly rub continued to push up a couple little burps. Max wasn't apt enough he was able to make him burp, not like Wendy, but he was gentle and soft... Calloused fingers moving in little circles against the side of his belly, smoothing over the dark peach fuzz that connected his chest hair to the treasure line starting just under his navel...

Vince melted completely as he felt Max's free hand tangle in his hair, fingers playing with his curls and lulling him right back asleep.

[supersecretsickplace]

poor sweet wennnnn :(

Relapse - I

Warning! This has some fat shaming language/thoughts coming from Wendy towards herself, as well as swirling ED thoughts. This blog does not condone either of those things and if you're struggling with ED, let a loved one know, please. Also, I have no experience in this area, so my inbox is open to criticisms and helpful nudges, just don't be mean 🙈

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

Having Vince home was like a dream come true. Having been living alone for all of her adult life, Wendy thought that getting used to sharing a space was going to take more of an effort, specially with a guy who occupied as much space as her boyfriend.

That wasn't the case, though. She had been fully bracing for their relationship to get a bit rocky as they were faced with the day to day challenges and arguments that dating long distance didn't allow for, but turned out Vince was simply the perfect roommate.

He was almost always in a good mood and even when he wasn't, Vince just sulked a bit and buried his face in a book, it was easy to ignore or talk about the issue. He didn't need her to list him chores, he got to those on his own like a functional adult, and he was the best cook in the world, so Wendy couldn't even remember the last time she had set foot inside her kitchen.

She was beyond thrilled by this unexpected turn of events, so it was much to her displeasure that Wendy caught herself obsessing over the relationship weight she was gaining by living with Vin.

"Silver?" Angie, Jonah's baby sister, asked in a bright, excited voice. She was like a puppy following her brother around the dress store and Wendy was happy to watch them interact, just as long as she didn't have to try anything on. She had the irking sensation that whatever it was she tried on, it wasn't going to look flattering and today wasn't a good day to deal with the body dysmorphia that accompanied that.

"It's not quite silver," Jon explained, sitting on the fancy couch in the middle of the store and grabbing one of the many heavy tomes filled with fabric squares, "it's like halfway between gold and silver."

"Aged silver?" Wendy asked, sitting next to him and taking the book so she could flip through the pages quicker than he was. Jonah frowned, studying the samples, until he smacked the book open on her lap.

"This one!"

It was a warm toned grey, that was the best way Wendy could describe it. Too dark to be a greyge... It was alright. Personally, Wen would rather it was a sage green, but she knew it was a challenge to pick a color that would flatter her and Angie, since they were in completely different color spectrums.

"That's pretty," Angie cooed, resting her chin on her brother's shoulder, "and what fabric? Shiny? Oooh, I saw this really pretty organza-"

Wendy zoned them out. All day she had felt weirdly anxious, starting during breakfast and getting worse during lunch. Now she wanted to go home, before-

"-try them on?" Jonah's voice cut through her anxiety and Wen blinked quickly, trying to situate herself.

"I'm sorry?"

"Can you and Angie try some of them on?" Jonah repeated his question and now he was gesturing to a pile of various warm-silver dresses. Wendy nodded, stiffly rubbing her neck and trying to force her spirits back up.

She was Jonah's maid of honor, she needed to be more upbeat than this.

"Of course," she got up, grabbing a couple of the dresses that she figured were for her judging by the sizing and then walked ahead to the dressing room.

Dressing rooms were the bane of Wendy's existence. She loved shopping, but more often than not she'd just judge something by holding it up in front of her and then try it at home, dealing with the hassle of returning what didn't fit or looked weird.

In truth, she could count in one hand the amount of times she had been in a dressing room, unless she counted the times she was helping Bella, but Wendy didn't count those. The place was stuffy, the mirror seemed to enlarge her, she couldn't move around and the lighting was awful-

"Oh this is so pretty," she overhead Jonah gush, that paternalistic tone slipping into his voice as he saw Angie in her dress, "what do you think, darling?"

"I love the color," Angie's voice travelled, all giggly, and Wendy struggled with the zipper on her back, "I don't know about this shape though, kinda makes me look like a stick."

Jonah snorted at her comment, "I guess it does make you look rather flat. Try the other one on."

Wendy gave up with the zipper, resting her forehead to the plastic partition of the dressing room and taking deep, measured breaths. She was not going to cry in a fucking dress store. There was a burning in her eyes and her nose, tingling all over her face.

"Dee?" Jonah's knuckles tapped against the door, "darling, you need a hand?"

"Just- Just give me a minute!" Wendy called out, forcing her voice to not sound strained and glaring at her reflection. It was a one-shoulder dress, long pieces of fabric draping over her shoulder and the whole thing was squeezing her in an air-tight manner, even if the back was still open, "Uhm, I-" Wendy bit down her lip, forcing her voice to steady up, "can you get me a bigger number? This one's not working."

"Sure," Jonah agreed, "which one is it? Can I see?"

"All of them," Wendy answered briskly, just wanting to get rid of him, "get me in size up."

"Alright," she heard him walk away and Wendy quickly peeled off the dress, putting it back on the hanger with the other untouched ones and hanging it outside her door.

Jon came back a couple minutes later, knocking once again, "here," he waited for her to open the door and Wendy hesitated. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in her underwear before, it was that today she felt particularly vulnerable, "Wendy?"

She couldn't bear facing the humiliation of Jonah comforting her in the middle of a store over something that was entirely on her. She should've known better than to eat every fucking pastry Vince decided to bake.

Wendy pushed the door open, lowering her eyes so he couldn't read her face as easily, "thanks. I'll be right out."

In the end, Jonah liked her in an off-shoulder dress, with a slit on her leg and that Wendy had to objectively say was quite pretty, even if it wasn't the final product.

"I'll get it tailored," Jon circled her in a judgmental manner, oblivious to the fact Wendy was itching to take it off and avoiding her reflection at all costs, "I think we can sinch it in here," he pinched her waist, "and here," he pinched the excess fabric on her back, "are you sure the previous number was too tight?"

"I'm positive," Wendy scoffed, then opened a relieved smile as Angie got out of her dressing room with her final outfit, a strapless dress with a romantic heart shaped neckline, hugging her slim figure, "I'm gonna go change..." Wendy forced a smile, "you look great, Angie."

"You don't think its too revealing?" Angelina tugged on the mermaid cut of it, hugging her hips.

"Nope, not at all," Wendy rushed inside the changing room, peeling the dress off as fast as she could. Now her cheeks were flushed and she was feeling downright ravenous.

Because that was the irony of it all, right? The more she stressed about how she looked and the digits on her scale, the more she ate and then things got out of hand before she could reign it in.

But she was happy. Her best friend was getting married and her boyfriend was a dream come true and her job was going perfectly and she wasn't about to fucking relapse.

In the end, Wendy returned home on her own, since Jonah took Angie back to his place so she could have dinner with Leo and him. She didn't mind it, because the minute Wendy closed her car door and was certain she was alone, she burst into tears.

Ugly, soul sucking sobs that were coming from deep in her chest and a claustrophobic grip making it hard to breathe. She lowered her forehead to the steering wheel, whole body shaking as the tears kept running, destroying her make up and making her whole face red and swollen.

For one moment, she really thought she was going to drown in her own tears. Then the panic stopped, the tight grip in her throat eased and she went boneless, head pounding with a fresh headache.

"Fuck..." Wendy leaned her head back, rubbing the mascara tears away and cringing at her reflection on the rearview mirror. She looked like a mess, "way to go, Wendy..." she grumbled at herself, reaching for her purse to redo her makeup and finally driving out of the parking lot.

"Hey sugar cube," Vince was already home when she walked in and Wendy forced up a smile, leaning against the kitchen door with a raised eyebrow.

"Sugar cube?"

"I'm trying it out," Vin's cheeks turned pink and he turned around, crossing the kitchen to kiss her, cupping her cheeks with only his wrists as his hands were currently wet, "you don't like it?"

"It's a little corny," Wendy grinned, tiptoeing so she could kiss him harder. She could almost forget the parking lot breaking down in this kiss, so she curled her hands on the neckline of his shirt, pulling him closer. Vince took one step forward, causing her back to meet the kitchen door and he chuckled in her mouth.

"Someone's horny," he moved his face, in order to press a kiss to her temple, "but I'm cooking."

"I'm not hungry," the words were out of her mouth before she could think them through. A big, fat lie, her stomach was squeezing with hunger, but she was scared of eating when feeling like this. It was like walking into a trap, either she'd eat too much or she'd not eat enough and then eat later or she'd obsess over the calories- She just needed to get through this day. One bad day was not a relapse.

"Uh, rude?" Vince wrinkled his nose in a playful manner, "you're not the only one in this house?"

Oh.

Wendy blushed, shaking her head and letting out a little hysterical chuckle, "yeah, right. Sorry," she tugged on her blouse, "I'm gonna go change. Unless you need help?"

"Nope, get out of my kitchen-" Vince waved her off, then before she could go, he grabbed the back of her jeans, pulling her closer, "wait. Give me one last kiss."

She promptly melted into his arms, kissing him back one last time before heading back to her room.

It felt amazing to change out of her constricting clothes and into her stay at home sweats. They were all Disney themed, this one was Cinderella inspired and had the quote "Cinderella is proof a good pair of shoes can change your life" on the front.

It caused Vince to snort when he saw her, rolling his eyes and serving the table, "that's cute. Cinderella is also proof you only need one pair, not fifty, honey."

"Eh, she grew up when malls didn't exist, what does she know?" Wendy grumbled, sitting down next to him. The mention of a mall brought up the shopping trip from before and Wendy's smile fell.

"Are you sure you're not hungry? Did you eat while out with Jon?" Vince sat next to her, starting to load up his plate. Wendy shrugged, curling up on her chair.

"I ate," she promised, "how was your day? How were classes?"

Vince didn't need any incentive to launch himself into a detailed rant about his classes. If she thought he liked teaching in Doveport, clearly it didn't compare to how thrilled he seemed to be about his new job. It had a bigger workload, but it was a fancy school where his classes had more funding and he had more freedom to do whatever he wanted.

"You're teaming up with the theater head?" Wendy grinned, "that'll be fun, I always knew you were a theater kid at heart."

"I'm Troy Bolton, torn between theater and sports," Vince teased her, grabbing her chair so he could pull her closer, "it'll be fun, I'm having them draft up assignments on the Elizabethean period, since they'll doing a Shakespeare play."

Her stomach clenched with hunger and Wendy pulled back, scooting her chair away from him and causing Vince to frown, although he didn't say anything.

"Uhm, what- What play are they going to be doing?" Wendy's mouth was watering.

"They're teenagers, so of course it's Romeo and Juliet. Literature teacher played them the Leo Di Caprio version-"

"It's my favorite version," Wendy squirmed on her seat, then got up, "sorry, I- I'm not feeling so hot, I think I'm going to lie down, Vin."

"You're not feeling well?" Vince dropped his fork back down, getting up too, "I knew something was wrong. What is it? Is it a migraine?"

"No," Wendy shook her head, grabbing his hands as they came to cup her cheeks, "no, I'm fine. It's just a bit of a stomachache..."

"Oh honey," Vince pouted, "you should've said something, I wouldn't have made you sit here with me. I can make some soup, do you think you could-"

"NO!" Wendy jumped back, then shook her head, blushing like crazy. She was making a fool of herself, "I just want to lie down, okay? I'm fine, it's just a bit of a bellyache."

"Okay..." Vince was frowning once more, "go ahead and get comfy, I'll bring you some tea."

Wendy let out a sigh, realizing there was no fighting him there, and nodded, moving back to their room. She promptly curled up on the bed, feeling stupid and overly dramatic. It was just a bad day, she didn't need to be acting up like this.

She felt like crying and slightly nauseous due to the hunger. Wendy closed her eyes, hoping she could fall asleep before Vin came back and started questioning her.

No such luck, he was back only ten minutes later, holding a tall mug filled with tea and looking concerned as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Here, doll," he passed her the mug, "what's wrong with your belly? Is it gas?" he moved his hand to lift up her hoodie and Wendy immediately pushed it away, almost causing her tea to spill. Vince's eyebrows jumped up.

"Wen?"

"I don't-" she lowered the mug back to her bedside table, "can you please just drop it? It's not a good day, Vin, I just wanna be quiet."

"Okay..." his brows all but met in a frown, but he didn't argue, instead leaning in to kiss her forehead, "do you wanna be quiet together...? We could watch something... Or I could let you have the room, if you want some space."

God, she loved him. It was so unfair, she had won the fucking lottery of boyfriends and she was messing it all up.

Wendy let out a little sniffle, curling up even more, eyes burning and tearing up.

"Oh honey," Vince's arms moved to wrap her up in a hug, "okay. Okay, that's fine. You had a bad day, I get it," he pulled her to sit on his lap, so he could take her spot on the bed and Wendy wrapped herself up in his arms, pressing her face to his chest, "whatever is upsetting you, you can talk with me..."

She shook her head, stomach growling, but Vin completely misunderstood it.

"Your belly's hurting, right? What meds can I get you?"

"Can you-" Wendy's voice was all hoarse, "can you just hold me?"

Understanding she wanted him quiet, Vin shut up, continuing to rub her back and leaning against the pillows, spreading out on the bed. They stayed like this for such a long time, that he ended up falling asleep, lulled by her weight against him and a full tummy on top of a workday.

Wendy, however, was still painfully awake, upset and hungry.

TBC

[supersecretsickplace]

okay for some reason allllll my asks just came through for like the past year 😅 so i’m so sorry if you’ve sent me anything…. if you’re still around feel free to ask again hahahah

ALSO i’m still looking for some jayvik emeto either fics or rp….. so if that’s something you’re interested in… lmk….

hehehe

MWAH

love ya <4

anna

[supersecretsickplace]

Anyone else love when a caretaker gets conflicting feeling's cause they're both horny and concerned? :3 cause that's one of my favourite things!

I love a caretaker who's busy looking after me while they grind into the seam of their trousers :3 They take their duties seriously! They always make sure to get me plenty to drink and rub my back and give gentle kisses and cuddles, but because of that their hands are too busy to do what they really want to do and they just keep getting hornier and hornier (　＾▽＾)

...this may or may not be how I am as a caretaker :3

[supersecretsickplace]

i just want someone who will let me hold them while they burp and puke up everything they’ve ever eaten…..

is that too much to ask?

<4

mwah

[supersecretsickplace]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

also side note. I CANNOT WAIT for more wendy x max stuff going down? his sensitive belly and her kink…. match made in ACTUAL heaven. soup thank you.

Breaking it Down

This happens directly after the Superbowl!

---------

After what Vince could only describe as the weekend from hell, he was back in Doveport. Abdomen sore and several shades too pale, with dark circles under his eyes, that was how Max found him holing up in the teacher's lounge during lunch hour Monday.

"Did you get the flu again?" The blonde asked in a frustrated tone, planting his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. Max had clearly been looking for him, since lunch had started fifteen minutes before and he should've been in the cafeteria along with the other teachers.

"No," Vince rubbed his face, sitting on the couch, "just had a rough weekend."

That was one way to put it. He still wasn't sure what to do with himself or all the information he had acquired the previous day. He had fucked up his friendship so royally that Luke no longer thought they were friends. There was a pang deep in his stomach, like a stab.

"...Do you wanna talk about it?" Max, whom Vince had forgotten was in the room, asked quietly. It was unlike him to be this soft and he was grimacing at his own tone, but Vince appreciated it nonetheless.

"No," Vince answered, against his own instincts. Normally, he'd be ready to pour his heart out to any of his friends, but this was about Lucas... And it felt wrong to talk about it with Max. He leaned on the sofa, elbows planted on his knees and staring ahead, "you should go have lunch, I'm fine."

"I'm going," Max agreed, then hesitated mid step, scratching at his auburn beard as he always did when nervous. He was still limping around with that damn crutch, it was almost a weapon under his arm, given how carelessly Max used it to gesture, "do you wanna grab a beer after work?"

Vince mulled over it, before nodding, "yeah, that'd be great."

Whoever said only romantic love could cause heartbreak was a fool. All of his classes were a blur and Vince spent any free minute of his day going over his text history with Luke. The last message was from Saturday, Luke confirming if they were coming over for the Superbowl.

Looking at the texts, it didn't seem they were estranged. Or at least, they hadn't seemed like that to Vin before, but now that he was paying much more attention, he could tell their conversations were either initiated by Vince or they were Luke communicating him of something. Telling him Wendy had fallen ill and they had all been at her apartment. Telling him about a sales at their favorite bookstore. Asking if he'd come over for Superbowl.

Not a single mention about the fact he was moving houses or the horrible loss Luke and Bell had just gone through. A simple "arrived safe" after he had gone home after their fight in Doveport, followed by two days of silence that Vince had easily dismissed as Luke still not feeling a hundred percent.

Vince felt like an idiot.

"Hey," Sophia walked closer, excitement causing her to bounce on her feet, "mamma asked if you're coming over for dinner tonight."

"Nope," Vince lowered his phone, guilt still churning deep in his stomach, "I'm going out with Daniels."

"Okay," Sophia shrugged, "but tomorrow can you come over? I wanted to tell you about B.U..."

Oh shit, he had forgotten all about that, "I'll do you one better," he offered, "I'm gonna take you out for dinner tomorrow, deal? A real dinner."

Soph's frown, which seemed permanently etched on her face, vanished for a split second, "a real dinner? How so..."

"It's my duty as your older brother to take you on a real dinner so you're not impressed by the first simpleton in Boston who takes you to a fancy restaurant," Vince smiled as he saw Sophia's eyes light up at the opportunity to wear makeup and heels.

"Alright," her voice was a whole note higher, trying and failing not to sound giddy, "deal!"

Damn he was going to miss his family, Vince thought as Sophia turned around and all but skipped back to her group of mean girls and they started whispering together.

After his last class, he swung by the kindergarten. His classes with the kids were the first of the day, but Vince had missed it since he had been driving over, so he hadn't seen Livia just yet. He hung by the door, arms crossed and waiting as the Math teacher instructed them to show their agendas to their parents.

Livia didn't see him as they finished up putting away their books and packing their backpacks. How did she overlook him when he occupied half the doorway, even leaning his body out, Vince wasn't sure.

"Liv, look who came to pick you up!" The teacher, Ms. Hollis, a ginger with a round face covered in freckles, pointed at him and Livia perked up, rushing to him.

She wasn't a toddler anymore for Vince to scoop her up, but he did it anyways, grabbing her by the armpits and throwing her up in the air like he did back when she was three, grinning as she exploded in giggles.

"What are you doing here?!" She threw her arms around his neck and Ms. Hollis, blushing all the way to the root of her hair, passed Vince the abandoned backpack.

"Thanks you," Vince smiled at the teacher, before pressing a kiss to Livia's cheek, "I missed you! How was your weekend?"

He took his sweet time to walk to the parking lot, listening attentively as Livia blabbed away about her weekend and how Soph had come back home and wouldn't shut up. He wondered if Liv had come to terms Soph would be leaving soon, if anyone had disclosed these news to her, and his own heart squeezed as he thought of the fact he'd be moving out just as soon.

"There you are!" Ma was waiting for them in the parking lot, near the closed car since Vince still had the keys. He opened the car, handing his mother the keys and she frowned as her eyes paused on Vin's face. Sophia was nowhere in sight, since she had cheerleader practice, "was your brother keeping you after class?"

"We were chatting!" Liv explained, jumping from his arms and climbing on the backseat, making grabby hands for her backpack.

"What's wrong?" Ma whispered, as Vince passed Liv her bag and pressed a kiss on the top of her curls, straightening up next to the car.

"Just tired," he lied and his mom squinted at him, not buying it.

"You look sick, Vicenzo."

"Ate something off at Luke's," Vince answered diplomatically, technically it was the truth, "threw up a lot yesterday."

"Oh no," Ma took a step closer, hands stretched out as if she wanted to embrace him like he was Liv's age and not twice her size and a grown man, "are you feeling better now?" her hands cupped his cheek.

"I'm fine," Vince, held her wrists, forcing up a smile, "Wendy and Leo were the only ones left standing."

"Are the others alright?" Ma's frown deepened, "Sophia said you're going out with Max, is that wise when you were just sick?"

"I'm fine, ma," Vince held both her hands in one of his, planting a kiss on her knuckles, "the others are fine too. I'll stop by this week, we have to celebrate. I got the job!"

"You did!?" Ma jumped to hug him, but even then Vince had to crouch down to hug her back. He tipped his body back, taking his mom off her feet and causing her to squeal, squeezing him even more.

"Babbo will be so happy, can I tell him or do you want to?"

"You can tell him, ma," Vince planted her back on the ground and saw Max hanging awkwardly by his white pick-up, probably unsure if they still were going out, "I gotta go."

"Take care of yourself, cucciolo, you look awful," Ma sighed, but waved him away.

Max had already fished out a cigarette from his pack and was sitting on the driver's seat, with his door throw open as he watched Vince say goodbye to his family and then jog to him.

"Mamma Monacelli was grilling you because you look like death?" Max guessed, waving to the older woman as Ma looked their way as if she could sense they were talking about her.

"Of course," Vince rolled his eyes, then frowned, "why the hell did you drive- HOW did you drive here!? Your foot is broken!"

"Ankle," Max wrinkled his nose, "and only one, I don't need both to drive, my car is automatic."

"You're ridiculous," Vince groaned, shooing him to the passenger seat, "that fucking ankle will never heal if you keep moving around like that..."

"I'm touched, you care," Max said sardonically, dramatically clutching his chest and causing Vince to shove his shoulder, pushing him further inside the car.

He fiddled with the driver seat, glaring at Max as he did that, "put that garbage out," he gestured to the cigarette and the blonde scoffed, blowing out a little ring of smoke as they drove off the parking lot.

"I can't do shit around here," Max grumbled, poking the ring with his cigarette and eying Vince up and down, "I'll have you know I have a medical permit."

"This is not weed, Max," Vince snorted, unable to fight a smile, "and you don't have a medical permit for that either."

He didn't drive far, back to Stache's, the pub that was just on the corner of Max's place.

"I can do it myself," Max shrugged off his hands as Vince tried to help him up, wincing as he got on his feet, wobbling on top of the crutch. They walked to one of the side of the street tables, instead of going in and he went down with a sigh, rubbing his knee and thigh on the hurt leg.

"Are you in pain?" Vince asked, as he dropped his bag on the opposite free chair and got up to grab them beer.

"Nope, peachy," Max all but lied. Vince walked away, waving at the owner behind the counter and grabbing the glass bottles in the fridge, before returning to the table.

Max had lit up another cigarette, but now they were in the open instead of the closed car and there was a breeze blowing the smoke away from Vince's face, so he didn't give him much grief besides glaring at the cig.

He sat back down and all but chugged his beer, while Max watched him attentively, "alright, spill. What happened? Is this because the semester is almost over?"

Vin snorted, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose as beer ran down his chin, wiping it on the back of his hand, "nah..." he muffled a little burp against his fist and leaned back on his chair, "just a rough-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it the first time around," Max rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it, "troubles in paradise?"

Vince opened a little smug smile, "you wish Daniels," he teased, "nope, Wendy and I are fine."

Max wiped an imaginary tear, "and here I thought it was time to shoot my shot," he mocked right back, although a blush was crawling up his cheeks, "alright, don't tell me. Let me run my speech by you-"

"Your speech?" Vince's shoulders dropped as he relaxed and Max nodded, reaching in the pocket of his jeans for a crumpled piece of paper.

"For the prom," he explained, clearing his throat and starting to read.

Normally, it was incredibly easy to let concern slip from his mind, allow Max to pull him in with his sarcastic jokes and long rants. Max wasn't a really talkative guy, not like Luke was, but now Vince figured they were close enough that he wanted to talk about everything and anything.

However, today not even Max's excitement was doing much of a dent in Vince's bad humor. He was constantly zoning out, thoughts drifting back to the shreds of conversation he could remember from the previous day, most of it buried under the food poisoning's nausea. Luke saying they were best friends, using the past tense, was causing Vince's skin to crawl.

"Hellooo-" Max waved before his eyes and Vince blinked, shaking his head.

"Fuck, I'm sorry-" he rubbed at his face, tiredly and then took another swing at his beer, "I'm sorry, I'm shitty company right now. You should go home-"

"So I can sit there staring at the walls?" Max rolled his eyes, "I'd rather be here, shitty company and all."

Something settled deep in his stomach, heavy like a brick, fluttering like butterflies. Max wanted his company and it was flattering and incredibly nice to hear after the past 24 hours, but just as terrifying. Because he was about to fuck it up too...

"I'm leaving," Vince blurted out and Max's eyebrows jumped up, as he choked on his beer and angrily grabbed a handful of paper napkins to wipe his chin.

"You-" he coughed, "what? Now?! What did I say?!"

"No," Vince's hands were sweating and he wiped them on his pants, feeling that cold, freezing sensation take over his stomach, like the seconds just before a rollercoaster drop, "I'm leaving Doveport. Uhm- A week after the semester ends, so next- Next month..."

"Oh," Max lowered his beer bottle back to the table and stopped coughing softly, freezing in place, "uh- Okay... Uhm-" he scratched nervously at his beard, "I'm assuming you're moving in with your girl?"

Vince nodded, "yes, back in Welton... I got a job already lined up, Fernanda recommended me-"

"Fernanda- The principal knew?" Max's voice was dripping with judgment, "damn, you could've mentioned it when we were hiking up a mountain together for hours. Or in the fifty or so hours you spent in my apartment after-"

Vince couldn't take it. He knew, in every possible sense, that he was entirely deserving of this dressing down, just like he had been in the wrong on the argument with Luke... But there was only so much kicking he could take while down and this was it.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, voice choking up and tears prickling his eyes.

"Or you know, any of the other days you were at my pla- Shit, Vince," Max interrupted himself as Vince shook his head, looking away and trying to swallow the knot in his throat, "aw man... Fuck, Vince, don't cry..."

Despite the fact he couldn't put any weight on his hurt leg, Max shuffled his plastic chair closer, patting awkwardly Vince's thigh, "don't cry, I'm not pissed, I'm just annoyed-"

Vince felt a whole new level of pathetic, especially when only a small part of his emotional distress was due to Max's annoyance, but he was letting the guy comfort him nonetheless. He let out a whimper, angrily wiping at his eyes, "I'mfine-" he mumbled, words sticking together, "just- Just'gimme-a-sec..."

Max nodded, but didn't pull back at all. Quite the contrary, he reached in and patted Vince's back, "yeah, sure, bud..." suddenly he sounded much more mature, the teacher Vince had caught glimpses off here and there.

And Vince broke down. It was a gentleness too much for his guilty consciousness and Vince planted his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands as he sobbed. He felt bad about leaving, but felt worse over the sensation he had lost Luke's friendship and guilty that he was letting Max comfort him and angry at himself for not noticing the distance between him and his friends and scared he couldn't fix it-

"Fuck, okay..." Max patted his back in a soothing manner, "you're alright, let it out," he all but cooed, sounding terribly worried.

As if Vin needed any incentive after yesterday. He continued to sob, hot tears streaming up, none of that half concealed macho crying that he usually did. Eventually, though, the tears dried down and he was left feeling guilty, empty and defeated.

"Imssorry..." He slurred, only to hear a scoff and Max pushed a bunch of paper napkins in his hand so he could blow his nose and wipe the tears.

"Don't apologize," he said, harshly, sounding worried, "Jesus, not for crying of all things, don't apologize."

Vince let out a huff, using almost all of their table's napkins and finally he moved so he could look at Max, who was openly staring at him, "I'm not apologizing for crying, I'm-"

"Don't apologize for leaving either, this place is a shithole," Max wrinkled his nose in an offended manner, "God knows why you came back to it in the first place, but it's fine you're leaving, Vince. You have a girl, a job and a bunch of friends in the city, I'd leave too-"

"Then why don't you?" Vince spoke over him and Max's mouth became a comical O, opening and closing around nothing like a fish out of the water, "I mean- You don't have anything holding you here, do you? Welton is a nice town, I- I could help you get settled there if you want to leave, you'd be close to friends-"

"Your friends," Max corrected him, but it was weak and strangled, suddenly he seemed to be the one in distress, shaking his head from side to side, "please don't ask me this."

"Wendy adores you, Bella likes you, I'm sure the others will warm up-"

"Vince," Max squeezed his nape, "you sound guilty you're leaving me behind. I'm fine-"

"I'm not-" Vince paused, because that was a lie. He was, he was guilty for leaving Max indeed. He liked the guy, a whole fucking lot, and he had been pulling Max closer for months now and he was about to get up and leave him, without any friends or support, and it was eating at him, "I am... You can't blame me, I don't like the idea of you all alone here..."

"Geez," Max rolled his eyes, pulling his walls back up like pants that had slipped down, "I'm fine, you don't have to worry. I've lived here my whole life, I'm not gonna die because you're gone, stop thinking so highly of yourself."

It was a teasing tone, meant to defuse the situation, but Vince was wound up tight and so was Max, so they just stared at each other in silence. The blonde let out a heavy sigh, breaking first, "I'm gonna miss you, sure, but I- I could visit..."

"You should," Vince agreed, voice strong and wiping at his face one last time, "but the offer- The offer stands. You don't care for this town, you care for your students, but Welton has schools too, Max... And-"

"And it has you, yeah I know," Daniels' cheeks were pink as he shrugged and looked away, "not now, Vin."

It wasn't a no and Vince took what he could get, latching onto it like a cat, sinking his claws on the half promise.

"Are you pissed...?" He asked after a beat, reaching for his beer once again. This time it seemed it was Max who had zoned out, as he startled when Vin touched his shoulder, but then shook his head, slinging an arm behind Vince's chair.

"Over you telling the fucking principal before me, maybe," he scoffed, but there was a smile tugging on his lips, "but not over you leaving. Really, not at all."

"And you'll visit?" Vince tried not to sound like a hopeful kid, feeling like he was failing at the task.

Max rolled his eyes, "yeah, sure, I'll visit..." he glared at his lap, "if you want me to..."

"I do," Vince said loudly, strongly, not daring to leave any room for doubt. For the first time all day, in a while, it wasn't guilt speaking, it was selfish and genuine, "if it was up to me you'd come along."

Max turned his head, staring at him, then raised his eyebrows in a sardonic manner and reached for his beer, "careful or I'll think you care, Monacelli."

"I do," Vince pouted, "I do care. You are my friend, you're not just the guy I befriended in Doveport because there were no other options, Max... You know that, right? That I don't want you around because you're a pity case, but because I enjoy your company?"

Max's face was aflame as he gulped down and nodded, "so you keep telling me," he took a large gulp of his beer, "I'm gonna fucking miss you, Vin."

[supersecretsickplace]

Safe Word

A/N: Warning: This is N S F W. Emeto kink, non-emeto sexy times, all that. Not explicitly explicit because I don't write that, but no doubt what's going on. This is completely out of order; it actually takes place earlier in Drew and Jeremiah's relationship; I may put it in the minific section because it's outside the regular plot I'm writing.

“Cincinnati?” 

Jeremiah shook his head.  “Too many syllables; I’d never be able to say that in time.”  He thought for a second. “How about Milwaukee?”

“My aunt and uncle live in Milwaukee; we’re going to my cousin Margie’s wedding there next year, remember?”  Drew snorted. “Can you imagine trying to have kinky sex while literally visiting the place that is our safeword?”  He snuggled into Jeremiah’s side.  “Can you grab the blanket?  I’m freezing.”  

“So maybe we only have non-kinky sex while we’re there.”  Jeremiah grabbed the chunky knit throw blanket from the arm of the sofa and tucked it around the two of them.  “Better?”  

“Mmhmm.”  Drew purred contentedly.  “You’re cuddly.”  Under the blanket, one of his hands found the bottom edge of Jeremiah’s pajama shirt. He pressed his hands into Jeremiah’s skin and the man yelped in surprise. 

“Holy shit, where have your hands been? They’re like blocks of ice.”  Jeremiah instinctively tried to wiggle away but Drew followed him, climbing fully onto his lap.  He slid his cold hands up Jeremiah’s chest and tweaked a nipple, grinning devilishly when Jeremiah jumped again.  Apparently his boyfriend was in that kind of mood, and Jeremiah caught up quickly.  “Make sure your hands are warm before you put them anywhere else,” he warned.  “Or you’ll make it shrink.”  He pressed his own palms against Drew’s ass and positioned him exactly where he wanted.  

“Impossible,” Drew scoffed.  “I’m too arousing to ever let that happen.” He grabbed Jeremiah around the hips and propelled himself down to the floor, his head disappearing under the blanket. 

“Such an ego,” laughed Jeremiah.  There was a lump in the vicinity of his waist where his boyfriend was working hard at pulling off his pajama bottoms.  He lifted himself up to help the process along.  “Taking notes from Adam, dear?”    

Drew’s face appeared suddenly from under the blanket, the knitted material wrapped around the rest of his head like little red riding hood.  “Hmm, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a challenge.”  He started to pull the blanket back over his head and then stopped.  “Did you have a safe word with him?” 

Jeremiah’s brain - and body - had been drifting off in an entirely different direction but Drew’s question pulled him back.  He squinted at his boyfriend’s face.  “Did Adam and I . . .?”

“Have a safe word, yeah.  I mean, you did a lot with him, right?”  Drew’s voice was serious, but his hands were still roaming slowly across Jeremiah’s skin. Jeremiah slipped his own hand down to help.  

“You know what we did.  I’ve told you everything.”  He fumbled with the tie on Drew’s sweatpants and as soon as it came loose, pushed the fabric over his hips.  But instead of wiggling fully out of the clothing, Drew put his hand on his wrist.

Jeremiah froze. It may not have been a safe word, but the intent was crystal clear.  He moved his hand away and focused back on Drew's question. 

“He asked me first, each time we were going to do something new.  Once I said yes, he kept going.”  He searched his boyfriend’s face. They had talked about Adam before; first generally and then, once Drew met him for the first time, in a lot more detail.  Jeremiah had thought they’d exhausted the topic, to be honest.  But now Drew climbed back up onto the sofa and draped his naked legs over Jeremiah’s equally naked lap.  It didn’t seem like he’d completely abandoned his original plan for the night, and now Jeremiah chose his words carefully. “You know we didn’t do anything that would require a safeword.  Nothing kinky.”

Drew nodded his acknowledgement.  “But did you ever say no?  When Adam asked to do something.  Or did you let him do . . . whatever he wanted?”  He sounded more curious than upset; his hands began moving slowly again.  

Jeremiah opened his lap to give the man more room.  “I said no to sex.”  Drew knew that, but maybe not the rest. “He asked me more than once.  Three different times, actually.  I always said no.  And then he dropped it.”  

“Hmmm.”  Drew scooted forward to straddle him again.  “You said yes to me the first time I asked.”  He sounded more than pleased, and his body was showing it.

“I did; and haven’t regretted it for a second,” agreed Jeremiah with amusement.  In spite of the fact that he’d been the more experienced one by far, Drew had been almost tentative when they’d first gone to bed together.  Now Jeremiah understood why, and he wasn’t beyond pushing his advantage.  He grabbed Drew’s wrists.  “I think it’s time I showed you what else I’ve learned.  Lie down.”  He kicked the blanket onto the floor.  Drew’s breath hitched as he clocked the change in Jeremiah’s demeanor. 

“Whatever you need . . . doctor.”  He scooted off Jeremiah’s lap and leaned back on the sofa cushions, watching him expectantly. 

Jeremiah hovered over him, considering. “You will not move, you will not speak, and most importantly, you will not come, until I say,” he commanded.  As soon as the man nodded, he grinned and lowered his body down to Drew’s waist.  

Afterwards they snuggled under the blanket again.  “Do we really need a safeword?” Drew wondered, playing with Jermemiah’s hand.  He sucked gently on one of his fingers.  “You seem to be able to read me pretty well.”  

Jeremiah kissed Drew’s temple where it was mushed up against his lips.  “I was going easy on you,” he teased.  “You were quite compliant.”  He kissed again.  “Still, it’s probably a good idea to have one in case I’m not feeling quite as . . . benevolent, next time.”  

“I’ll keep thinking of cities we’re never likely to visit,” promised Drew.  “Ones with short names.”  

Jeremiah patted his hair. “You make sure you get that done, Nurse Thorton.”  

*****

It was almost another two months before Jeremiah got to call Drew Nurse Thorton again; at the hospital he was Drew.  They were on the sofa again, and again they were wearing pajamas.  Well, Drew was only wearing his bottoms, and Jeremiah was admiring the way his stomach pushed out against the waistband.  

It had been storming off and on most of the day.  Jeremiah had made big, puffy omelets for breakfast and homemade potato and bacon soup for lunch.  During a break in the rain he’d run out to the ice cream shop on the next block and returned with a pint of caramel ribbon and a large oreo milkshake.  

Drew had finished the ice cream agreeably, chasing it with swallows from a bottle of coca cola that Jeremiah held, carefully putting the straw into his mouth and holding it there while Drew guzzled the soda.  When Jeremiah finally pulled it away, Drew wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I need to burp,” he complained, bending forward over his lap.  “My belly hurts.”  

Jeremiah shivered but kept his voice harsh while he answered.  Drew may have been whining, but his eyes were bright and the rest of his body was clearly enjoying himself.  “You can hold it in; you haven’t even finished half the bottle.  I’ve seen you drink a lot more than that without burping.”  He put his hand on Drew’s shoulder and pushed him upright.  “And sit up for me; I want to see your face.”  

Drew sat up slowly, wincing as he did.  “Yeah, but usually I’m not so full.”  He gently palmed his stomach.  “I’m really stuffed.”  He put his fist to his mouth and held it there a second.  “Please, Jeremiah, let me burp.”  

Jeremiah suspected Drew wasn’t entirely playing up his discomfort.  He also wanted to fool around a bit before the next part of their game.  Still, he needed to play his part too.  He held up the bottle again.

“I tell you when, remember . . . nurse?”  He drew out the last word.  

Drew nodded.  “Yes sir.”  His hand dropped off his stomach and swiped between his legs.  Jeremiah smirked.  

“That’s what I thought.  Now take two more sips.”  

After Drew swallowed down more soda, Jeremiah put his own hands on the man’s bubbling belly.  He put his own hand on top of Drew’s.  “Feel good?” he asked casually, stroking.  Drew’s hips bucked.  

“Yes,” he ground out.  “But . . . hic . . . I need . . . hic . . . please.”  His eyes begged Jeremiah’s as the hiccups made his stomach quiver. Drew bit down on his lip.

“Go ahead and burp,” Jeremiah allowed. He climbed off the sofa.  “I’ve got something else for you.”

“Thank you,” Drew gasped.  He immediately dropped his chin to his chest and let out a deep, thick burp.  Jeremiah hummed with appreciation.  His body was tingling with the anticipation of what he had planned next and he practically sprinted to the kitchen and opened the freezer.

Drew was still burping when Jeremiah returned, pushing into his chest to force up little puffs of air. Jeremiah hummed appreciatively.  

“Still belching?  I didn’t feed you that much soda.”  He sat down next to Drew and put the large milkshake he’d been carrying on the coffee table in front of them.  Drew eyed it warily.

“I was . . . urp . . . trying to make more room,” he explained, blowing out another puff of air.  “I don’t know how much more I can manage.”  He shuffled in his seat, watching Jeremiah’s reaction.  Jeremiah stared back, waiting.  Drew shuffled again.  “I mean, I’ve got . . . urp . . . some room left.”  His next words were very deliberate.  “If you want me to eat more.”

‘I do,” Jeremiah nodded.  He picked up the milkshake and climbed onto Drew’s lap, straddling him.  “Hands behind your back, please.”  He and Drew had only recently begun pushing the boundaries of what they liked in the bedroom.  Sometimes Drew liked giving up control, and Jeremiah was learning that sometimes, he really liked ordering his boyfriend around.  He was always very polite about it; there was something about issuing commands in a soft, calm voice that was so much hotter than barking them out.

He could tell Drew thought so too.  His eyes went a little unfocused when Jeremiah settled his weight against his packed belly and he blew out a breath.  “Oof, careful,” he warned.  “I’m starting to feel a little sick.”  

“You’re fine,” Jeremiah said dispassionately.  He leaned further forward and captured Drew’s mouth in a deep kiss. Drew grunted out another soft sound of discomfort but then he kissed Jeremiah back with so much enthusiasm that Jeremiah almost forgot the rest of his plan.

But his hand was getting cold from holding the milkshake, and he finally pulled his tongue out of Drew’s mouth and sat back.  Drew took a deep breath.

“How much do I have to drink?” he asked cautiously.  “I’m not joking - I’m really full.”  

“Oh stop it,” Jeremiah scoffed.  “You’re fine.  Now keep your hands behind your back and open your mouth.”  Some time, he knew Drew wanted to try an element of bondage, but Jeremiah wanted to get comfortable domming first.  He held the straw to Drew’s lips and he obediently accepted it.  

As soon as Drew began drinking, Jeremiah slid his hand down to where their body’s met.  He was tingling all over, watching his boyfriend swallow more and more of the milkshake. The first time he pulled the straw away to give him a break, Drew immediately burped.  It was shallow, not deep and relieving, and he gulped immediately afterwards.  

“Oh god,” he groaned.  “I’m not feeling good.”  He breathed slowly through his mouth.  “I . . . I need a minute.”   He blew out another breathy burp.”  

“You can have thirty seconds.”  Jeremiah kept playing, his fingers dancing over Drew’s skin.  Drew made a sound, low in his throat that made Jeremiah go still.  He needed to stay in control as much as his boyfriend right now.  Finally he lifted the cup again.  “Open up.”  

Drew stared at the straw for a long moment.  He swallowed hard, and Jeremiah thought he was about to protest again.  But then he slowly leaned forward and took it into his mouth.  Jeremiah cupped his hand on Drew’s neck so he could feel him gulping down.  “Five swallows.  Big ones or we start over,” he said, and Drew gave him a tight nod.  He drank slowly, Jeremiah counting for him.  He was planning to kiss Drew again as soon as he was done, looking forward to tasting the milkshake on his boyfriend’s tongue.

Drew stopped after four sips.  The straw fell out of his mouth and he panted hard over his lap.  Jeremiah touched his cheek.

“That’s only four; you’ve got one more,” he reminded him.  Drew nodded, still looking down.  Jeremiah pushed the straw towards his mouth and Drew slowly opened it.  His jaw was quivering and he pulled back again.  

“Hold . . . hold on,” he stuttered.  His body jolted with a weak gag.  “I’m so nauseous.”  

“You know that’s not my problem,” said Jeremiah softly. “You promised five sips and I expect you to keep your promise.”

Drew nodded slowly.  He opened his mouth again, but as soon as Jeremiah lifted the straw, he turned his head away.  

“Neptune,” he choked out, putting a fist to his mouth.

Jeremiah froze for half a second, hearing their newly chosen safe word coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth.  Then he slid off Drew’s lap and knelt in front of him.  “Bin or bathroom?”  he asked gently. Silently he cursed the fact that he didn’t have a trash can right there.  Drew gulped down.

“Bathroom,” he said thickly.  “Please.” 

Jeremiah wrapped his arm around Drew’s waist.  “You did so good, sweetheart; I’m sorry I pushed you too far.”

Drew shook his head.  “Don’t . . . uhhulp . . . don’t apologize,” he said through a stronger gag.  “I liked it.”  He slowly lowered himself down to kneel in front of the toilet and then leaned forward to spit.  “I just couldn’t eat anymore without it all coming up, and I didn’t want to ruin the sofa.”  He reached out for Jeremiah’s hand.  “You did good too; I really wanted to keep . . . going for you.”  His voice got thin and reedy and he turned to pant over the water.  “But I really have to throw up.”  

“Go ahead,” agreed Jeremiah.  “In fact, I order you to vomit.” He crouched down behind Drew and rested his hand on the man’s belly.  “On my count.”  

He only got to two when Drew retched and lurched forward.  “Or don’t listen to me,” he laughed.  “Get it up, baby.”  He patted his boyfriend’s back while he emptied his stomach.  Halfway through, Drew grabbed his hand off his belly and moved it lower.  Jeremiah huffed in surprise.  “You sure?”  

Drew burped up what looked like his breakfast omelet.  “I’m sure,” he croaked. “And when I’m finished here, I’m going to finish you in bed.”  

Jeremiah kissed the back of his neck. “Whatever you want.”

[supersecretsickplace]

omg. it’s a go. adam and avery are a go.

The Trial, Part I

A/N: This is the start of Rory and Noa's next arc, but there are going to be bits and pieces of everyone else sprinkled throughout. It's also the start of Avery and Adam's arc, but that story is going to take a little longer to tell. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post while I was on the road driving home but my plans changed and I won't be leaving until later in the day and I got impatient. Also, there's a little bit of head hopping here, but I tried to add breaks when the POV changes.

Avery Morrison felt like an idiot.  

It had happened before, most notably a year earlier at the end of his last relationship.  But that time, he’d been an idiot for taking Kyle back, not once but twice, despite the man’s obvious communication issues.  This time, he thought he’d been a lot smarter.  

For one, Adam Calder was bluntly, brutally honest.  And yeah, maybe it made him seem like an egotistical ass at first.  But Avery had to admit it was refreshing to know exactly what he was thinking; no games.  

Second, the guy was so far from Avery’s type that there was no way things could ever get serious. If his heart wasn’t involved, he couldn’t screw anything up, right?

And oh yeah, Adam Calder was so fucking hot it should have been illegal. No biggie.  In fact, Avery was pretty sure he could be arrested for not sleeping with him - that’s how good looking Adam was.

So there was no reason at all for the guy to have completely ghosted him. 

They’d ended up at Avery’s place the night of the blizzard even though Adam’s was closer, and maybe that should have been a warning sign.  But Adam insisted he wanted to ��see how Avery lived,” so he’d agreed.  And the night had been . . . well Avery wasn’t one to fuck and tell.  But if he had to rank his top sexual experiences, Adam Calder would be in the low single digits.

He’d assumed Adam would stay over the part of the next day.  The night had had almost as much talking as sex, and there was a foot of snow on the ground, after all.  But when Avery had woken up at 7:30 the next morning, it was to an empty bed.  

His first message, I had fun last night - thank you - went unanswered.  As did his second, trying to provoke a response - hope you managed to get your cranberry-orange muffin.  I’m sure there were plenty, since literally no one else likes that flavor. After that, Avery understood. Adam was brutally honest, and his silence spoke volumes.  

So Avery felt like an idiot  Because even if he’d never expected a relationship, he at least deserved a return text.  

But that didn’t matter right now.  Today was the first day of the trial of Damian Smith, the guy who’d attacked and tried to rape Adam’s twin sister.  Avery was going to testify because he’d been the one to pull Damian off Noa.  Well, Avery and Rory had.  The prosecution had just decided to have Rory testify too and he’d been called off to meet with the lawyers. Avery thought having Rory get on the stand was a terrible idea, but no one had asked him.

****

As soon as Rory left the conference room where they’d been waiting, Noa let herself slump in her seat.  Avery gave her a sympathetic smile.  “How are you holding up, sweetheart?  And don’t say ‘fine’ - I can tell you aren't.”  

Since it was only him and Jeremiah in the room right now, Noa didn’t try to disagree.  Instead she gave a wan smile.  “We’ll be glad when the trial’s over.”  She knew neither of them would be surprised that she’d answered as if she and Rory were a unit.  Even though there were cracks right now, she knew she could keep them from getting bigger. It was only another week.  Of course they could get through another week.  Then things would go back to normal.

“You’re looking pale, are you feeling okay?”  Jeremiah got up from his seat and came around the table.  Before Noa could say a word he’d grabbed her wrist and started silently counting.  “Your pulse is racing; can you take a deep breath for me?” 

Noa hadn’t even realized it, she just knew that the low-level queasiness she’d been living with for the past week had spiked with Avery’s questions.  She tried to follow Jeremiah’s instruction and gagged halfway through, gulping down the bitter taste of coffee that suddenly flooded her mouth.  Before she even knew what was happening her head was pushed forward between her knees and there was a trash can in her line of sight.  She hiccuped and spit and the heavy hand on her shoulder squeezed.  

“It’s okay, Noa; it’s just us here.”  Avery’s voice was calm and she focused on that.  She burped, and the nausea finally receded enough that she was no longer in danger of throwing up.  Slowly, she sat up to see both men watching her carefully.  

“Don’t tell Rory,” she said quickly.  Jeremiah handed her a styrofoam cup of water and frowned.

“Noa,” he began.  “You can’t . . .”

“Yes she can,” interrupted Avery.  He pushed a box of Kleenex across the table.  “And you know why, Gable. How do you think Rory’s gonna react if he knows Noa is so stressed it’s making her sick?”

Jeremiah’s lips tightened.  “Yeah, okay,” he sighed.  “You’re right.”  He peered into Noa’s eyes.  “But that means you need to let us take care of you sweetheart. Any dizziness?  How long have you been nauseated?” 

Noa shrugged.  “Not long, I swear.” She tried to make her voice sound less queasy. Neither Jeremiah nor Avery looked convinced.  Avery leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. 

“Something’s up with Rory, isn’t it?  Even before they asked him to testify.”  

Noa was a pretty good liar, but these were two of Rory’s closest friends.  There was no way they’d believe her if she said it was nothing. Indeed, as soon as she paused, Jeremiah leaned forward too. “You can tell us, you know.  What’s going on with him?”  

Both of them looked so eager to hear what she had to say, Noa would have laughed if the situation had been different.  They were like old ladies wanting gossip.  She took a deep breath, trying to get her bearings. 

“He’s just more worried about me than usual,” she answered carefully.  That was true, at least. “You know how he can get.”  That was true too. But then Avery gave an impatient sigh.

“And?  That’s awfully vague.  Could describe Rory “being Rory” for any number of things”  He made air quotes with his hands.  “No, this is something different. Jer?  Any ideas?”

“It’s really nothing,” Noa said weakly.  Both men ignored her.

The way Jeremiah was looking at Avery as they tried to figure out this puzzle, it was like they were sending thoughts back and forth telepathically or something.  Again Noa felt the odd urge to laugh. 

Finally, he turned back to her.  “Is he worried about you not being able to handle testifying?  Is that why you’re hiding that it’s making you sick?”  

It would have been the obvious thing for Noa to admit to. And maybe it would have gotten Avery and Jeremiah off her back. But before she could even come up with the words to agree, Avery was shaking his head.

“That’s to be expected, isn’t it? That Rory would worry about that.  Hell, he’s practically said as much to me; of course he doesn’t like her testifying.”  He shook his head.  No, it’s something else.”

“You’re right,” Jeremiah agreed immediately.  “His worrying about Noa testifying is practically a given.”  He grabbed her hand and Noa wondered if her pulse somehow could give something away. But he just squeezed gently.  “Honey, I want to make sure both you and Rory are okay, and I can’t do that if you’re not honest with me.”

Jeremiah’s expression was understanding and doctorly, if that was even a word.  Noa felt pressure to confess, but couldn’t make her mouth work to form the admission.  “It’s really nothing else,” she protested.  Avery huffed impatiently.

“Noa, if it’s something that could get Rory in trouble, you have to tell us.  You know damn well that being distracted can be deadly in our job.”  His voice was terse, the usual smile in his eyes utterly gone.

They were tag-teaming her, she realized. Only Rory was usually the blunt, bad cop to Avery’s good.  Noa blew out a frustrated breath.

“That crap won’t work on me; I’m not one of your suspects.”  She pointed her finger next at Jeremiah.  “And If he needs to be a little unreasonable about me right now, it’s okay.  I mean, It’s only until the trial’s over.”

“But what do you need?”  Jeremiah looked unconvinced.  “You look exhausted, sweetheart.  And have you been eating?”  He shook his head.  “I don’t want you to get even more sick because you’re worried about upsetting him.  Rory’s a grown up. And a fucking FBI agent.  He can handle this.”  

“And so can I,” Noa snapped.  “And like Avery said, maybe it’s harder because he’s an agent.  So if I can make it easier for him by being fine, I will.”  Jeremiah and Avery both looked a little shocked at her outburst.  Well, good.  

“Noa . . . “ Jeremiah began, but she waved him quiet.  “Don’t tell me you don’t understand because I know you do.”  When neither man offered a protest, she huffed in satisfaction.  “That’s what I thought.”   

“Fine, but the second the trial’s over I want you to take him away somewhere and fuck all the stress out of him, okay?”  Avery’s easygoing expression was back and Noa felt a thrum of satisfaction that she’d managed to convince him everything was fine.  

“I swear,” she answered, holding up two fingers.  “Scout’s honor.” 

Her stomach was still churning uncomfortably though. And while Avery seemed to have accepted her decision, she could tell Jeremiah remained skeptical.  “If you start feeling worse, I want you to tell me,” he ordered.  

“I will,” Noa lied.  “But I’ll be fine.” 

“I know you will, Noey. And pretty soon everyone else will know too.”  Adam Calder appeared suddenly at the door to the conference room.  He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a crisp pink shirt and flecked power tie, hair artfully tousled and eyes piercing.  Avery just managed not to roll his eyes.  But at least he and Adam would be able to talk now. Clear the air and set some boundaries. Maybe the guy was embarrassed, Avery considered. if he thought he’d get a hard time from his siblings and Rory about it. He probably didn’t realize Avery hadn’t told anyone. 

“What are we talking about here?  Trial strategy?  Adam sauntered into the conference room and stood behind Avery’s chair, resting his hands on the man’s shoulders.  “You’re testifying, aren’t you, Morrison?”  

It was as if the night of the blizzard hadn’t happened at all. The realization was infuriating.  He’d been used, and Adam, who bragged about being honest and straightforward, hadn’t even bothered to tell Avery first. When he answered, it was almost too easy to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“Yep, and I’ve got to go.”  Avery pushed his chair back, ignoring Adam’s soft yelp when the wheels almost rolled over his foot. He bent down and gave Noa a kiss on her cheek.  “I’ll keep an eye on Rory for you, sweetheart; don’t worry.”  He nodded at Jeremiah.  “And he’ll keep an eye on you.”  

There was nothing more to say.  Without a backwards glance, Avery strode out of the room.

******

As soon as the door closed, Noa rounded on her brother.  “You couldn’t have waited until after the trial to sleep with him?  Really, Adam?” 

Jeremiah had been about to take Noa’s pulse again. He froze, hand on her wrist, and examined her brother instead. “Fuck, you did, didn’t you?”  When Adam just shrugged, he went back to his examination. “Not that I’m surprised, but Noa’s right; your timing sucks.”  

“What do you mean? No it doesn’t,” Adam said defensively.  “It was just a night; who cares?”  He held up a finger in warning.  “And don’t you dare say “Avery does.’ He clearly knew what he was doing.”  He crossed his arms across his chest. “Guy’s been antagonizing me since the second I met him.”  

“You’ve been antagonizing each other,” Noa muttered under her breath.  She held her brother’s gaze.  “Adam, I don’t have the energy right now to explain, and anyway, I think if you dig way down, you already know the answer.”  A strange look suddenly crossed her face. She lurched to her feet and Jeremiah jumped up too.  

“Bathroom?” he asked quickly.  She waved him off.  

“I’m fine, Jeremiah.  I can manage to . . . pee on my own.”  She gripped the back of the chair tightly for a moment and swallowed hard, then let out a soft burp. But before he could react more, she rushed out of the room.  

The doctor in Jeremiah wanted to follow her, but the friend in him managed to resist.  Adam stared at the space where his sister had been.  “She’s going to find Rory,” he said knowingly.  

Jeremiah didn’t bother to argue; for all he knew, that’s where Noa was headed.  “So you slept with Avery Morrison,” he said instead.  

Adam smirked. “Jealous, Miah?” 

“Not at all and you know it,” Jeremiah shot back, probably harsher than he intended. Adam’s grin flickered for a moment.  

“Why’s everyone acting like it’s such a big deal?” he asked, falling into the chair Avery had abandoned  “You, Noa, Gabe . . .”  He pointed a sudden finger at Jeremiah.  “And you admitted you weren’t even surprised.  C’mon, Miah, you know me.”  

“I do,” agreed Jeremiah.  “And despite it, I actually like you, most of the time.” There were noises in the hallway that sounded like a crowd of people walking by.  He glanced at his watch.  They probably needed to head to the courtroom, although he wanted to check the woman’s bathroom first. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to make his friend understand.  “I just thought you were smarter than this.”

He expected a sharp retort, something along the lines of I’m smarter than everything, but Adam was strangely quiet.  Finally he shrugged.  

“So maybe my timing wasn’t the best.  And yeah . . . maybe I . . . didn’t quite think through how much I’d have to see him afterwards.  Avery.”  He said the name as if it was a fragile thing.  

Jeremiah knew how big of an admission that was.  He took a breath.  “Adam, I . . .”  The door to the conference room swung open.  

“Jeremiah?  They’re almost ready to start with jury selection.”  Avery didn’t even acknowledge that Adam was there.  “Where’s Noa? Rory’s looking for her.”

Jeremiah swore.  Looked like he should have played the doctor role after all.  “Bathroom, probably; I’ll go check on her.”  

“Her parents are here.  Gabe’s with them.  “If she’s feeling up to it, they want to see her before it starts.”  

Adam stood up.  “I’ll go tell them; where should she go?”  His voice was as subdued as Jeremiah had ever heard it.

If Avery noticed, he gave no indication.  “Courtroom 2217,” he answered formally.  He grabbed Jeremiah’s arm.  “C’mon Jer; let’s go find her.”  

Avery’s expression was stony as he and Jeremiah jogged down the wide corridor towards the woman’s bathroom.  “Don’t ask,” he warned.  “Please.” 

“I won’t,” Jeremeiah promised, and then realized he should have played dumb and said “ask about what?” Avery groaned.

“So you already know what an idiot I was,” he muttered.  He pushed open the bathroom door. 

“You weren’t’; Adam’s very compelling,” was all the reassurance Jeremiah had time for before turning his attention to Noa. She was leaning against the side of the sink and as soon as they burst in, held up her hands.  

“I’m okay, really,” she promised. “Just . . . just kind of queasy.  Thought if I threw up I might feel better but I’m not quite there yet.”  She grimaced.  “I guess we have to go?”  

“Not if you’re nauseated,” Jeremiah said firmly.  He wet some paper towels and put them on the back of her neck.  “They can start without you, right?”  He looked at Avery for confirmation.  

The man hesitated. “I’d have to tell Rory why she’s not there.”

Noa straightened up.  “Absolutely not.”  She took a deep breath.  “I’m fine.”  She didn’t move from her spot by the sink though.  Her lower lip trembled and she gulped down, the noise magnified in the quiet bathroom.  “Fuck,” she said softly.  

Jeremiah might not have been a nurse, but he’d had enough experience with patients fighting nausea to recognize the signs. 

“You’re not fine,” he said briskly, ushering her towards a stall.  “But you will be after you vomit.  And then Avery’s going to distract you so you don’t start feeling sick again.”  Silently he prayed the man would forgive him.

Noa groaned but let Jeremiah maneuver her over the toilet.  “How?” she asked thickly, spitting into the water.  She hovered for a second, panting, and then let out a wet burp.  “How’s he gonna . . . uhhHLp . . . distract me?”  She swayed as she gagged and Jeremiah grabbed her around the waist.  

“Don’t let her fall; Rory’ll kill us both,” Avery muttered.  He’d jammed himself into the small space too and began rubbing Noa’s back. “C’mon, sweetheart, puke for us and then I’ll let you hear what an idiot I was to sleep with your brother.”  He glanced at Jeremiah.  “I assume that’s what you meant by a distraction?”  

Jeremiah gave an apologetic shrug just as Noa burped again and a fountain of pale, watery puke cascaded into the toilet.  “Wish . . . wish you’d asked me first,” she mumbled before retching up more of her stomach contents.  “Adam’s complicated.”  

Avery gave a derisive snort.  “Seemed pretty straightforward to me.  “Charmed me into his bed and then ghosted the hell out of me when I just tried to say thank you.”  He slapped Noa’s back for emphasis and she let out a thick, gurgling belch.  “Oops, sorry sweetheart.”  

Noa waved off the apology.  “Helped,” she said through a gag.  “Do it again.” 

Avery began patting her back firmly.  “I should have known better. Adam kind of screams ‘one night stand,’ doesn’t’ he?  I just didn’t think he’d be such an ass about it.  You know, since we’ll obviously have to see each other again.  Sorry, Noa.”

“Don’t . . . don’t apologize,” she said through another gag.  “I’ve been yelling at Adam about it for years.”  She turned to look over her shoulder.  “I’m sorry he hurt you.”  

“He didn’t hurt me; he pissed me off,” Avery clarified quickly.  Too quickly.  Jeremiah really felt for the guy.  If he’d been more than 30 seconds out of the closet when he’d encountered Adam Calder, he’d have probably fallen for him too.  Not that he was ever going to suggest that’s what happened to Avery.  Jeremiah caught Noa’s eye and suspected her thoughts had gone in the same direction.  But she hadn’t seen the flash of - something - in Adam’s eye earlier.  Jeremiah had, and wondered if there were more feelings to unpack than just Avery’s.  

“Pat again,” Noa commanded.  “I’ve got a little more to get up and then we can go.”  

“Yes ma’am,” answered Avery. He began thumping her back and after a second Noa’s stomach heaved.  When she finished retching she took the wad of toilet paper Jeremiah handed her and shakily wiped her mouth.  

“You promised not to tell Rory,” she reminded them after she’d splashed water on her face and rinsed out her mouth.  “I’m feeling better now.”  Right before they left the bathroom she tugged on Avery’s arm.  “And I’m not done talking to you about Adam.”

“I am,” said Avery flatly.  “Lesson learned and I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.”  He stopped walking and turned Noa towards him.  “Promise me you won’t say anything.  I’m keeping my mouth shut to Rory that you just puked your guts up.  You owe me.”

Noa looked like she wanted to say something else but she finally nodded.  “Offer’s always there,” she said instead.  They’d arrived at the door to the courtroom and she looked at it for a long moment before taking a deep breath.  “Let’s do this.”