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1heartfanfics · 7 months

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Hi! Your stories are amazing. I’m totally addicted. Zayn and Andrew are such a cute couple. I was hoping you’d be able to write something about Zaun being sick to his stomach and insisting on going to work because he’s a teacher and he needs to. I’m a teacher and I’ve had to work though sooo many bugs and it’s awful. I literally keep a box of supplies at work just in case. Bonus if someone has to come get him because he’s too sick to get himself home and they give him the whole, “I told you so”

“Morning babe,” Andrew said as he heard Zayn enter the kitchen. When he recieved no reply he looked up from the book he was reading. “You okay?” He asked.

Zayn just shrugged. He was already dressed for work, wearing slacks and a button down, but he looked tired and uncomfortable.

“I feel kinda sick to my stomach,” Zayn answered after a moment. He was cradling his belly with one hand.

“Maybe you should stay home today,” Andrew said, getting up and moving to Zayn’s side. He gently guided Zayn over to their dining table by his elbow and pressed him down onto the chair. “They can’t find a sub on this late of notice,” Zayn shook his head.

Andrew took a seat next to his husband and reached forward to press the back of his hand to Zayns cheek. He felt a little warm, he’d probably caught some kind of bug from the kids at school. “I know, but you really don’t look well hon,” Andrew said sadly, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll just have it be a work day for my students, I’ll be okay,” he shrugged, his mind clearly already made up. “Okay..” Andrew sighed, clearly worried. Zayn could be so stubborn when he was sick. At least he’d been open about telling Andrew he didn’t feel well. That was progress. “I’ll be fine babe,” Zayn said, smiling weakly to try and reassure his husband. “Okay, I hope your kids behave for you today,” Andrew said, leaning forward to kiss Zayn’s cheek as he stood up to take his breakfast dishes to the sink.

“Me too,” Zayn sighed, forcing himself to get up from the table and finish getting ready. As he was putting his shoes and coat on, Andrew came in and held out a tote bag to him. “Here, I made you a little sick day care package to take to work.” Zayn peaked into the bag. A packet of chamomile tea, some mints, pepto, some saltines, and a can of ginger ale. “You’re so sweet, thank you,” Zayn said, slinging the bag over his shoulder along with his backpack. Andrew smiled at him sadly. He sounded exhausted already and his day hadn’t even begun yet.

“Call me if you need anything and I can run it up to you okay?” Andrew said, leaning over to give Zayn another peck on the cheek. “I will. I love you,” Zayn answered, feeling so grateful for Andrew.

“I love you too.” Andrew replied as Zayn stepped outside and headed to work. Andrew just hoped he could make it through the day.

———————————————————————

The drive to the elementary school had felt longer than usual. Each turn made Zayn’s stomach flip. By the time he arrived and parked his car, he was s already starting to feel nauseous. Once he got to his classroom he took a swig of the pepto and popped a mint into his mouth. Then he headed to the teachers lounge to heat up some water for the tea. He hoped that would be enough. Thankfully, he managed to calm his stomach down to a dull ache by the time his students started arriving. He didn't greet them all as he usually did, but tried to give each student a smile and a wave as they entered the classroom and made their way to their seat.

"Alright, how's everyone doing today?" Zayn asked his class after the bell rang. He received a chorus of words that he couldn't understand, as usual.

"Anyone have any fun plans this weekend" he asked as he wheeled his chair out from behind his desk to sit at the front of the classroom and sat back down in front of the students. A few raised their hands and told him about their family outings or sporting events taking place this weekend.

"Awesome, thanks for sharing guys," he said, debating on what he wanted to tell them. "So, I'm going to be honest with you all, I am a little under the weather today. So we're just going to have a work-day. That means that if you've got any assignments due or late work to catch up on, you can do that. Otherwise, you're free to read a book, do some creative writing, or find an art project from our creation corner," he explained.

"Are you sick Mr.Kalani?" one of his students asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah sweetie I am," Zayn sighed.

"My mom says you should stay home when you're sick," another student spoke up.

"Your mom is right," Zayn chuckled lightly, "I wanted to stay home but there wasn't enough time to find a sub for you guys, so I'm just going to power through," he explained.

"So, I'll be at my desk if anyone needs me. Feel free to listen to music if you want but no games and try to keep chitchat at a whisper level okay?" he continued, finishing up his instructions.

With that, his students started rummaging around in their backpacks for assignments and books. Luckily, he had a pretty good class this year. No real problem students, just some kids who liked to talk during class a little too much, but he could handle that.

Zayn scooted back to his desk, wishing he could just dim the lights and take a nap. His stomach was already starting to turn again. Maybe he should see if they could at least get a sub for the second half of the day.

He opened his email and typed a message to the principal:

'Hello Mr. Whitman,

I am feeling pretty ill this morning and wanted to see if there was any possibility of getting a sub for my class starting after lunch. I can power through if I need to but a half day would be much appreciated.

Thanks,

Zayn'

He hit send before he could have second thoughts. Normally he wouldn't even ask but he genuinely felt so unwell that he really wasn't sure he actually could make it through the day. Andrew had been right.

Mr. Whitman responded within minutes: 'I'll see what I can do'. Which was about the best response Zayn could've hoped for.

As the minutes ticked on, Zayn's stomach grew more and more upset. He could feel it churning sickly and resisted the urge to press his hand to it. A few times his stomach lurched, thankfully only forcing up belches that he attempted to muffle into his fist.

By some miracle, he made it to 10 o'clock, which was when his class went to gym. He got everyone lined up and led them through the school to the gymnasium.

Mr. Penn immediately got the kids started with a game of dodgeball, then walked over to where Zayn was slumped against the wall.

"You feeling alright?" Mr. Penn asked.

Zayn shook his head, "Not really. Hoping Mr. Whitman can get a sub for me after lunch."

"Yeah hopefully he can, you really aren't looking so good," Mr. Penn said, cringing in sympathy. "You can go back to your classroom if you want, I've got 'em. I'll bring 'em back to you in an hour," he added, nodding toward the door.

"Thank you," Zayn breathed out, giving the other teacher a grateful smile before slinking out and heading back to his classroom. Standing had made him feel about 15 times worse. The nausea had returned in full force, making him press a fist to his mouth as he walked, afraid something might come out if he didn't.

Once he was sitting as his desk again the nausea receded slightly, but he still felt like he could throw up at any moment. He cracked open the can of ginger ale from Andrew and took a careful sip. The cool fizzy drink did feel nice in his sick belly, but it didn't lessen the feeling of nausea. Zayn leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, focusing on taking slow breaths through his nose. He must have drifted off though because he was startled awake when the door swung open and his kids filed in.

“Thanks,” he croaked to Mr. Penn, forcing himself to stand up even as his stomach sloshed in protest. “Hang in there brother,” Mr. Whitman said quietly on his way back out the door. Zayn nodded in thanks, afraid to say more. He was actively fighting back the nausea at this point, willing his stomach to stay in place. This was not good.

His students had all made their way back to their seats and were looking at him expectantly. He must really not look well because they weren't even talking amongst themselves, just watching him.

"Mr. K?" one of his students asked. Their voice sounded far away though, his ears were ringing.

His mouth started filling with saliva and he knew that it was over. There was nothing he could do. He rushed over to his desk and crouched down behind it to at least shield himself from his kids' eyes as he leaned over the trash can just in time to throw up what little he'd ingested.

"EWW!" a chorus of disgusted sounds and laughter came from his class on the other side of his desk. He couldn't worry about that right now though, he was too busy focusing on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth so he wouldn't throw up again.

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, "Mr. K should I go get some help?" one of his students, a sweet girl named Molly asked, standing behind him.

"Yes please," he rasped, cheeks flushing red. "Thank you Molly," he added as she turned to head out of the room. He couldn't believe that this had just happened. He'd never hear the end of it.

A minute later Molly returned with the teacher from across the hall, Mrs. Davis. She instructed Molly to return to her seat and asked his class to read quietly for a few minutes.

"Hey," she said, crouching down next to Zayn. "Came down with a bug huh?" she asked, smiling sympathetically. It happened to all new teachers in the winter. Kids bring in a lot of germs and it takes a few years to develop the immune system to fight everything off.

"I'm so sorry," Zayn said, dropping his head down into his hands. "I thought I could make it through the day."

"We always do. It happens to the best of us Zayn don't worry," she tried to reassure him. Zayn smiled woefully, but felt absolutely humiliated. And nauseous.

"I have two paras watching my kids right now so I can cover yours until Mr. Whitman finds a sub or figures something out. So whenever you're ready, grab your stuff and get out of here, okay?" she told him.

"Thank you Sara, I owe you one," Zayn sighed, taking a deep breath to try and regain his composure. He was already dreading standing up to the prying eyes of his students.

"No need, like I said, it happens," she shook her head, "Are you okay to drive home?" she asked. He really did not look well. His skin was deathly pale and ashen, damp with sweat. His hands shook as he reached up to brush his hair out of his face. He hardly looked fit to stand, let alone drive.

"Uh, yeah..." Zayn trailed off, not so sure, "I can call Andy," he finished, deciding that was probably the better idea. The last thing he needed was to puke all over himself while trying to drive home.

"That's probably a good idea," Sara nodded. "You ready to get up?" she asked.

Zayn nodded, though he wasn't really. Sara grabbed his elbow and gently helped him to his feet. He swayed, immediately dizzy, but grabbed the edge of his desk to steady himself. As he started to pack up his things he could feel the kids' eyes on him.

"I'm going to be hanging out with you guys for a while since Mr. Kalani isn't feeling well," Mrs. Davis said, walking to the front of the room and addressing his class.

"Feel better Mr.K!" a couple of kids called out as he finished packing his things.

"Thank you," he smiled gratefully, thankful to have such a sweet class. "Be good for Mrs. Davis okay? Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow," he added, waving to them as he shakily headed for the door.

As soon as he was out of eye sight, he leaned against the wall and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Opening a text to Andy he typed 'Can you come get me? I threw up and I really don't feel good' and sent it.

Almost immediately he got a response back: 'Poor baby :( omw'

Andrew had probably been waiting around, expecting this to happen. Zayn wished he'd just listened to him and stayed home today. Then this whole mess never would have happened.

By the time Zayn trudged his way to the back exit of the school, Andrew was parked and waiting for him. He got out, rushing over to Zayn to take his bag from him, then placed a hand on his back to lead him over to the car. Zayn carefully got into the passenger seat, afraid to upset his stomach any more than it already was.

"How's your stomach feeling?" Andrew asked after getting back into the driver's seat.

"Not good," Zayn shook his head. He was still unbearably nauseous, stomach feeling sour and unsettled.

"Here, just in case," Andrew said, handing Zayn a plastic bag. Zayn took it wordlessly, squeezing his eyes shut against the nausea and vertigo... and tears.

"Baby?" Andrew asked gently, seeing a tear slide down his husband's cheek. "What happened?"

"I puked in front of my whole class!" Zayn managed to get out before he burst into tears, pitching forward with a sob.

"Oh sweetie," Andrew sighed, rubbing a hand up and down Zayn's back. Zayn turned to bury his face in Andrew's shoulder, tears soaking into his flannel. Andrew wrapped his arm around Zayn, leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead, which was burning with fever.

Zayn hiccuped, a sob morphing into a, thankfully, unproductive gag.

"Try to calm down Z, you're gonna make yourself sick again," Andrew said softly, rubbing Zayn's arm.

"I-i'm just so embarrassed," Zayn cried, sniffling as he tried to calm himself down.

"I know baby, I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sure it has happened to plenty of other teachers though," Andrew tried to reassure him.

"That's what Sara Davis said," Zayn sighed, reaching up to wipe the tears off his face. "She took over my class," he added, taking a slow shaky breath as the tears subsided.

"There you go, see? It happens. No big deal alright?" Andrew said, giving Zayn's shoulder a squeeze before retracting his arm to put the car in drive.

"I guess," Zayn shrugged, not really convinced but settled enough for now.

"Let's just get you home okay?" Andrew nodded, pulling out of the parking lot and heading for home.

#zayn and andrew #sick zayn #caretaker andrew #vomiting #tw vomit #vomit tw #stomach flu #upset stomach #comfort #hurt comfort #oc story

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