tomato-sickfics

[tomato-sickfics]

How has your relationship to Benji changed? I know there's been previous comments about him coming across as abusive, has it been anything related to that?

have been seriously hesitating to respond to this since you sent it because I’m not sure how much good faith this question is actually being asked in, but sure, I’ll bite. Buckle in I guess.

Tl;dr: yes.

All characters inevitably have a tiny bit of their creator inserted into them, no matter how small. For example, Grady loves birdwatching and has a very quick, dry wit. I love birds and tend to be the ‘comedian’ in any social group I drift into, so those traits come from me, whereas aside from that we are not very similar. My relation to Benji is a lot more significant than that. He is someone who grew up in an extremely tumultuous household with an abusive father and complacent mother while simultaneously struggling with behavioral issues and conduct disorder from the time he could talk. That part of him is me.

Too often, I think people are eager to create characters with horribly traumatic backstories and only ever use that lore to shape their traumatized characters into extremely empathetic, loving people who would never hurt another soul because they know what it’s like to be hurt. Which there is nothing inherently wrong with, but I never wanted Ben to be that. I wanted him to be the type of person who instead of divesting from the behaviors he was raised around and becoming some beacon of goodness, became a watered down version of the thing in the world he was hurt most by (his father) because that model of behavior was all he ever knew. I did not recognize for many years how accurately this character arc reflects the person I grew up to be and I resent that I’ve unintentionally enmeshed my inner self so deeply with a character that people (rightfully) put that terrible label on. I never intended him to be a ‘good’ person but I also never intended him to be a flat out monster. I was extremely resistant to that label because after being in a *heavily* emotionally and mentally abusive relationship for two years where his goal seemed to be to purposefully and strategically terrorize and exhaust me every single day, I had this idea that being abusive required deliberate thought and intention. I am a black and white thinker to a fault; to me people who exhibit abusive behaviors are terrible people, full stop, no exceptions. Even now typing this I struggle to believe it when I admit that I now recognize that is not necessarily true, because I myself am a person with certain behavioral patterns that are not acceptable. So to have the character I am the most attached to and see myself the most in called that by multiple people…yeah that hurt and is part of why i disappeared, because it definitely changed how i saw him and by extension myself.

I wish I could reinvent him and his relationships with other people and overhaul the person I created him as five years ago (5!!!) when I was freshly 18 and woefully lacking in self awareness. I actually don’t think I’d change his mannerisms or behaviors themselves that much. His story is not unusual but a lot of people want to brush that truth under the rug. A lot of victims don’t become good people and those stories are still worth being told. Not all characters need a redemption arc to be worth existing; but I would certainly change the course of his life. I don’t think he and Taryn would be together; I’d flesh out her character more, have her leave his ass and send him straight back to rock bottom where he was when they first met. I’d have his repeated actions towards others present real, significant consequences. But it’s been so many years now; the people who don’t hate him tend to LOVE him and I have this iconic couple now that I can’t exactly just break up, you know? Idk. I still love Benji but yeah, my relationship with his character has fundamentally changed and this is why.

[tomato-sickfics]

Too Much Sun

Was feeling a little inspired after some recent and not so recent comments from mutuals like @lisupandowntown and anons...figured 9 months without posting a fic was long enough. Wanted to flex my writing muscle again so it might not be the best but it's something :)

Featuring Benji in all his redheaded glory vs the sun. Bc me too, buddy.

CW: vomiting, heat exhaustion (sorta)

--

Benji had never considered himself an outdoorsman. He’d grown up in a gated community in the heart of Los Angeles; hiking hadn’t exactly been his family’s brand of fun. Not that they had ever had much fun at all.

Now more than ever, he was resenting that fact. With Grady and Taryn hiking along in front of him as he trudged behind, sweat beading on his forehead, he wondered why the hell he had agreed to this. It wasn’t that he was out of shape; he worked out several times a week, from the comfort of an air-conditioned gym. It was that the blazing rays of Arizona sunshine were frying him alive. His pale, freckled skin was burning despite the layers of sunscreen Taryn had forced him to apply, and his head was heavy from trying to squint the sun out of his eyes. L.A. got hot, sure. Not 100 degrees hot. And when it did hit the 90s back home, Benji sure as hell wasn’t spending the day outside.

Grady and Taryn were engaged in mindless chatter ahead of him, seemingly not even winded by the effort of walking through a soft, sandy wash for the last mile and a half. The heat was insulated by the stony bank on either side of them, making it that much worse. Benji huffed and adjusted the straps on his backpack. The bag was flush to his back and he could feel how sticky his skin was with sweat there, only serving to exacerbate the cloying heat weighing him down.

Taryn finally glanced over her shoulder and fell back a bit to match his pace. “How’s it going?” She asked, her concern left unspoken. She knew her boyfriend was overly sensitive to heat with his pale complexion and fiery red hair.

Benji tried to shoot her a sullen glare, but since he was already squinting his eyes against the light, it didn’t do much good. “Fine,” he croaked, his voice coming out hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s hot as fuck out here.” He tried to play it off as a mere observation, but the displeasure in his voice was more than obvious.

“I know,” Taryn said sympathetically, “even I didn’t expect it to be this bad. Arizona is no joke.” Her gaze swept upwards as they crested a slope and finally left the silty wash, taking in the towering saguaros and tree-like chollas, the red mountains of Southern Arizona stark against the horizon. “It’s beautiful out here, though. Such a nice escape from the smog and traffic.”

Benji wanted to see the beauty she was seeing, but it was hard to appreciate the landscape when he could literally see the heat waves distorting the view in front of him. “It’s not bad,” he rolled his shoulders and hiked up his backpack straps again, cringing at the way his shirt clung to his skin. He stole a glance at her face as she looked around in wonder, and in spite of his misery he couldn’t help but smile. She looked beautiful, her lips slightly parted as she thoughtfully observed each plant and cool rock that crossed her path.

Ahead of them, Grady brought his binoculars up to his face to stare at something before doing what Benji could only describe as a literal jump for joy. “Holy shit, that’s a crested caracara over there!” He exclaimed, pulling his face away from the binoculars to glance back at his friends and point to the top of a massive saguaro in the distance, where a large bird was perched. Benji followed to where he had pointed with mild disinterest. To his credit, it was a strange looking bird, like a giant falcon or something with long legs and a flat head. But Benji didn’t really give a shit about birds. His girlfriend, on the other hand, skipped up ahead to Grady without so much as another word to him, making grabby hands for her turn with the binoculars.

Benji allowed himself to come to a stop a few feet from his friends to try and catch his breath. It wasn’t helpful that this damned desert was so dusty, too. His lungs felt irritated, and his throat was criminally dry. He tried to take a swig of water, but it hit his stomach like a brick and his mouth had dried back up in what felt like less than a second. He closed his eyes for a moment, hating the way the darkness caused his head to spin, and quickly re-opened them. Looking down at his arms confirmed what he suspected; he was several shades pinker than he had been at the start of the five loop.

Once Taryn had had her fill of staring at the bird, Benji appeared at her shoulder and begrudgingly asked, “How much longer until we’re out of this fucking hellhole?” He hated sounding like a child asking are we there yet?, but the oppressive heat was starting to make him feel physically ill. His face was streaming sweat. Taryn turned to face him properly for the first time, and her smile drooped slightly.

“Only a quarter mile--oh baby,” she hissed softly, “your cheeks are so red.” She brought a gentle hand up to cup his face, but he winced at the contact, and she pulled away with an apologetic look. “We’ll have to stop at a gas station and get you some aloe or something.”

Benji was about to retort that he didn’t need it but decided against it. Some cool gel against his sunburns sounded…really nice, actually. Grady gave him a knowing look. “Parking lot is just over this hill,” he reassured him, “probably another five minutes.”

Benji looked at the dusty dirt at his feet in embarrassment; he hadn’t intended for his friend to overhear him complaining, but he’d have been a fool to trick himself into thinking someone as perceptive as Grady wasn’t aware of what was going on.

“Fucking great. In that case, can we say goodbye to tweety bird and get our asses moving?”

Grady rolled his eyes good-naturedly and mouthed ‘goodbye’ to the falcon still sitting in the distance with an exaggerated wave. “Sure.”

--

By the time they reached the car, merely pulling the handle to open the door felt exhausting. Benji was so tired. His muscles felt zapped of all energy, as if the sun itself had stolen all of his strength from him. The sunshade Taryn had put across the windshield had helped keep the car marginally cool, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The still air inside the car was stiflingly hot as Benji took his seat as passenger. He usually preferred to drive, but at the moment he’d never been more grateful for the opportunity to zone out. The new car smell he loved so much was nauseating now, and he reached forwards to max out the A/C, desperate for a reprieve from this fucking heat.

“That was such a beautiful hike,” Taryn sighed in satisfaction, “I wish we had cacti like this back home.”

“I don’t, are you fucking serious?” Benji raised an eyebrow,  “those tree-looking fuckers got stuck to my pants like five god damn times.” He shuddered recalling how his girlfriend had been forced to help him carefully remove the cactus from his pants before they embedded their barbs in his skin.

“Okay man, at a certain point I don’t think the chollas are to blame anymore,” Grady quipped, earning an unimpressed look from his friend.

“Oh, guys! We should try that food truck by our hotel, I saw pictures of their burritos online and they looked amazing,” Taryn cut in, seemingly having made up her mind as she finally started backing out of the parking space.

Benji couldn’t help but feel an inkling of dread at the way his stomach flipped when she mentioned food. He’d already forced down a protein bar halfway through their hike to try and re-energize himself, to no avail. The terrible, chalky aftertaste was still in his mouth, and the more he thought about it, the more he swore he could feel it sitting in the pit of his stomach. Although the A/C had fully kicked in, he still felt uncomfortably warm, heat radiating from his burnt arms and face. His eyes were heavy, and he leaned his head back, closing them slowly. His head still seemed to spin slightly in the darkness, but it was better than using the energy it would take to keep them open for much longer.

--

“Baby?” Benji’s eyes started to flutter open as he heard Taryn’s voice at his side, “Ben, wake up. We’re back. I got you a burrito.”

He struggled to properly open his eyes as he tried to take in what she was saying. “Burrito? Huh?” He said hoarsely, before the conversation from earlier came back to him. “Oh, right.”

The smell of carne asada and warm tortilla hit his nostrils, and he swallowed uneasily as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and forced himself to sit up straight in the passenger seat. “God damn, how long was I out?” He dragged a hand down his face and bit back a yawn.

“Basically from the second we left the parking lot,” Taryn smiled, looking at him fondly, “Grady wasn’t hungry so he already went back up to his hotel room to take a nap. I bought you some aloe vera at the gas station, too. I can’t believe you didn’t wake up.”

She extended a giant burrito wrapped in foil towards him and he hesitantly took it from her, staring down at it with trepidation. His stomach rocked back and forth inside him like a boat in a storm. “This thing is…fucking huge,” he commented.

“Well we hiked five miles and you’ve hardly had more than a protein bar. You could use the calories.”

Benji bristled a little at that. “Don’t keep tabs on me,” he said snippily, meeting his girlfriend’s eyes with a hard stare, one that quickly softened when he saw the earnestness in her brown eyes.

She rolled her eyes at his prickly response, not impressed. “Are you hungry or not?”

“I could eat,” he shrugged his shoulders, and his eyes darted to the floor. “Thanks.” It was true, sort of. He was stuck between the clawing emptiness in his belly and the sick feeling that rose in his chest when he thought of putting something in his mouth. He could still feel the searing heat in his cheeks and his entire head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, yet heavy as a bowling ball at the same time.

Each step to their hotel room was an absolute drag, and Benji sank gratefully onto the edge of the soft bed the second they stepped inside. He looked down at the foil-wrapped burrito in his hand and hesitated. Taryn was already eagerly unwrapping hers next to him, and he swallowed down the hint of disgust clawing its way up.

He managed to eat almost half of the burrito over the next fifteen minutes, the tortilla and asada feeling dry and scratchy against his throat with every bite. It settled in his stomach like a rock and he shook his head, his already meager appetite completely vanquished. “Can’t fucking eat this anymore…” he muttered under his breath, wrapping the food back up and setting it on top of the TV stand.

“Come on, I think its pretty yummy,” Taryn smiled at him, but her grin quickly faltered when he leaned forwards and planted his elbows on his knees, intertwining his fingers across the back of his neck as he bowed his head. “Benji?”

He didn’t respond immediately, a shaky sigh escaping him. “I’m good,” he grit out, “just…give me a fucking second. Please.” His skin felt clammy and cool even though his inner temperature was burning like fire and he was still sweating. His stomach gurgled uneasily in defiance of what he’d put inside it and he shuddered.

“Hey, babe, look at me,” Taryn murmured, her voice much softer now. Benji reluctantly unlinked his hands, letting one arm fall across his lap and propping his chin up on the other palm as he tilted his face towards her with narrowed eyes.

“What?” He said impatiently, shutting his lips tightly as an unexpected burp rolled up his chest. His cheeks puffed out with the noise, and he grimaced at the taste of stomach acid and grilled steak hitting the back of his tongue. “Ugh.”

His girlfriend’s hand came to rest on his back. “That heat really got to you, huh? You okay?”

Benji subconsciously leaned into her touch and shivered again. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t fucking know. I just feel fucking…weird.” His throat clicked and he made a low noise, a hiccup dragging itself out from the depths of his diaphragm. “Shit.”

Taryn slipped her hand underneath his shirt to rub up and down his spine. His back was slimy with sweat, and he shifted uncomfortably at her touch spreading it all around. “You want some water? Maybe some aloe vera for your poor skin, too,” Taryn suggested, not waiting for a response. She fetched him a water bottle and fished the small bottle of aloe vera gel she’d bought out of her purse, sitting back down next to him.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, but made no effort to resist when she took one of his arms and started to rub a layer of sticky aloe across the reddened skin, soothing the burn immediately.

“You’re not,” she chided gently, taking his other arm in her hand, “you’re exhausted, and sunburnt, and—” his stomach cut her off with an ominous gurgle, “—your body is unhappy with you, case in point. That hike was a bad idea, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, five miles in 100 degrees to look at the same cactus over and over again was certainly a fucking choice,” he muttered, the sick feeling in his chest growing with every second. The cool gel sinking into his skin felt nice, but being tugged and jerked around by his girlfriend was overwhelming, a tingling feeling igniting in the back of his throat as he tried to ground himself. He gently extracted his arm from her grip and took a deep breath, full-blown nausea blooming inside him. He tried to take a sip from the water she’d given him, but it was no use.  

His chest jumped with another, deeper burp, a shudder rippling through him as he let it out. “Mm,” he grunted and brought a fist to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as the meager mouthful of water hit his stomach unpleasantly. The urge to gag sprang up his throat and he bent forwards slightly, huffing through his nose as he tried to control himself. He lurched as the urge hit him more strongly.

“Okay, come on,” Taryn squeezed his thigh, “I think you’re losing this battle, babe.”

“Yeah,” he choked out his agreement, stiffly rising to his feet as he robotically made his way to the bathroom, his hold on his stomach precarious at best. He doubled over immediately and planted his hands on the cistern to stabilize himself, pushing his weight into his heels as he was wracked with a quiet but forceful retch. He had already been so miserable before, and now this? The universe was cruel.

Taryn was close behind him and laid her hand dormant on the small of his back as he started to properly heave. “Aww, Ben,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Benji wordlessly dropped into a crouch and switched his grip onto the rim of the toilet, a wet belch bubbling up and mixing with a gag as his body convulsed. A thick line of spit hung uselessly from his lip as a result. Finally, his chest seized with a massive burp, sending with it a spray of barely digested carne asada and rice. He choked on the unexpected wave of sick, breaking into a hacking cough as another torrent quickly poured past his lips. “Fuck,” his voice was gurgly and distorted by the amount of saliva streaming from his mouth as he vomited, and he only just managed to choke out the word before he puked again.

Taryn patted his back ever so softly, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. “God, Benji,” she cringed at the barrage of sounds and sights before her; the tone of her voice kind of made him want to die.

“Sorry,” he gasped in an uncharacteristic show of apology, causing his girlfriend to quickly shush him and smooth his short hair down.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly, “I just feel so awful; I didn’t realize the sun would hit you so hard. I should’ve known better.”

Benji managed to snort contemptuously at that in a short reprieve from the crushing nausea. “’M a fucking adult, Taryn. I’m responsible for myself, thanks.” His tone was cutting, but his words were an offer of comfort towards his self-critical girlfriend. “I’ll live—” the end of his sentence was thwarted by an unexpected second wave of vomiting, and he nearly buried his face in the toilet with the force of the violent burp that rocketed up his throat before he expelled the paltry remains of his stomach.

Taryn continued to pat his back gently as he finally came down from his episode, panting harshly and spitting over and over before flushing the toilet and laying his warm cheek on the cool porcelain.

“You gonna be okay?” She asked, a slight smile flickering across her face at the sight of him totally worn out.

“I will be,” Benji cracked an eye open to side-eye her, “once we get the fuck out of Arizona.”

[tomato-sickfics]

Too Much Sun

Was feeling a little inspired after some recent and not so recent comments from mutuals like @lisupandowntown and anons...figured 9 months without posting a fic was long enough. Wanted to flex my writing muscle again so it might not be the best but it's something :)

Featuring Benji in all his redheaded glory vs the sun. Bc me too, buddy.

CW: vomiting, heat exhaustion (sorta)

--

Benji had never considered himself an outdoorsman. He’d grown up in a gated community in the heart of Los Angeles; hiking hadn’t exactly been his family’s brand of fun. Not that they had ever had much fun at all.

Now more than ever, he was resenting that fact. With Grady and Taryn hiking along in front of him as he trudged behind, sweat beading on his forehead, he wondered why the hell he had agreed to this. It wasn’t that he was out of shape; he worked out several times a week, from the comfort of an air-conditioned gym. It was that the blazing rays of Arizona sunshine were frying him alive. His pale, freckled skin was burning despite the layers of sunscreen Taryn had forced him to apply, and his head was heavy from trying to squint the sun out of his eyes. L.A. got hot, sure. Not 100 degrees hot. And when it did hit the 90s back home, Benji sure as hell wasn’t spending the day outside.

Grady and Taryn were engaged in mindless chatter ahead of him, seemingly not even winded by the effort of walking through a soft, sandy wash for the last mile and a half. The heat was insulated by the stony bank on either side of them, making it that much worse. Benji huffed and adjusted the straps on his backpack. The bag was flush to his back and he could feel how sticky his skin was with sweat there, only serving to exacerbate the cloying heat weighing him down.

Taryn finally glanced over her shoulder and fell back a bit to match his pace. “How’s it going?” She asked, her concern left unspoken. She knew her boyfriend was overly sensitive to heat with his pale complexion and fiery red hair.

Benji tried to shoot her a sullen glare, but since he was already squinting his eyes against the light, it didn’t do much good. “Fine,” he croaked, his voice coming out hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s hot as fuck out here.” He tried to play it off as a mere observation, but the displeasure in his voice was more than obvious.

“I know,” Taryn said sympathetically, “even I didn’t expect it to be this bad. Arizona is no joke.” Her gaze swept upwards as they crested a slope and finally left the silty wash, taking in the towering saguaros and tree-like chollas, the red mountains of Southern Arizona stark against the horizon. “It’s beautiful out here, though. Such a nice escape from the smog and traffic.”

Benji wanted to see the beauty she was seeing, but it was hard to appreciate the landscape when he could literally see the heat waves distorting the view in front of him. “It’s not bad,” he rolled his shoulders and hiked up his backpack straps again, cringing at the way his shirt clung to his skin. He stole a glance at her face as she looked around in wonder, and in spite of his misery he couldn’t help but smile. She looked beautiful, her lips slightly parted as she thoughtfully observed each plant and cool rock that crossed her path.

Ahead of them, Grady brought his binoculars up to his face to stare at something before doing what Benji could only describe as a literal jump for joy. “Holy shit, that’s a crested caracara over there!” He exclaimed, pulling his face away from the binoculars to glance back at his friends and point to the top of a massive saguaro in the distance, where a large bird was perched. Benji followed to where he had pointed with mild disinterest. To his credit, it was a strange looking bird, like a giant falcon or something with long legs and a flat head. But Benji didn’t really give a shit about birds. His girlfriend, on the other hand, skipped up ahead to Grady without so much as another word to him, making grabby hands for her turn with the binoculars.

Benji allowed himself to come to a stop a few feet from his friends to try and catch his breath. It wasn’t helpful that this damned desert was so dusty, too. His lungs felt irritated, and his throat was criminally dry. He tried to take a swig of water, but it hit his stomach like a brick and his mouth had dried back up in what felt like less than a second. He closed his eyes for a moment, hating the way the darkness caused his head to spin, and quickly re-opened them. Looking down at his arms confirmed what he suspected; he was several shades pinker than he had been at the start of the five loop.

Once Taryn had had her fill of staring at the bird, Benji appeared at her shoulder and begrudgingly asked, “How much longer until we’re out of this fucking hellhole?” He hated sounding like a child asking are we there yet?, but the oppressive heat was starting to make him feel physically ill. His face was streaming sweat. Taryn turned to face him properly for the first time, and her smile drooped slightly.

“Only a quarter mile--oh baby,” she hissed softly, “your cheeks are so red.” She brought a gentle hand up to cup his face, but he winced at the contact, and she pulled away with an apologetic look. “We’ll have to stop at a gas station and get you some aloe or something.”

Benji was about to retort that he didn’t need it but decided against it. Some cool gel against his sunburns sounded…really nice, actually. Grady gave him a knowing look. “Parking lot is just over this hill,” he reassured him, “probably another five minutes.”

Benji looked at the dusty dirt at his feet in embarrassment; he hadn’t intended for his friend to overhear him complaining, but he’d have been a fool to trick himself into thinking someone as perceptive as Grady wasn’t aware of what was going on.

“Fucking great. In that case, can we say goodbye to tweety bird and get our asses moving?”

Grady rolled his eyes good-naturedly and mouthed ‘goodbye’ to the falcon still sitting in the distance with an exaggerated wave. “Sure.”

--

By the time they reached the car, merely pulling the handle to open the door felt exhausting. Benji was so tired. His muscles felt zapped of all energy, as if the sun itself had stolen all of his strength from him. The sunshade Taryn had put across the windshield had helped keep the car marginally cool, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The still air inside the car was stiflingly hot as Benji took his seat as passenger. He usually preferred to drive, but at the moment he’d never been more grateful for the opportunity to zone out. The new car smell he loved so much was nauseating now, and he reached forwards to max out the A/C, desperate for a reprieve from this fucking heat.

“That was such a beautiful hike,” Taryn sighed in satisfaction, “I wish we had cacti like this back home.”

“I don’t, are you fucking serious?” Benji raised an eyebrow,  “those tree-looking fuckers got stuck to my pants like five god damn times.” He shuddered recalling how his girlfriend had been forced to help him carefully remove the cactus from his pants before they embedded their barbs in his skin.

“Okay man, at a certain point I don’t think the chollas are to blame anymore,” Grady quipped, earning an unimpressed look from his friend.

“Oh, guys! We should try that food truck by our hotel, I saw pictures of their burritos online and they looked amazing,” Taryn cut in, seemingly having made up her mind as she finally started backing out of the parking space.

Benji couldn’t help but feel an inkling of dread at the way his stomach flipped when she mentioned food. He’d already forced down a protein bar halfway through their hike to try and re-energize himself, to no avail. The terrible, chalky aftertaste was still in his mouth, and the more he thought about it, the more he swore he could feel it sitting in the pit of his stomach. Although the A/C had fully kicked in, he still felt uncomfortably warm, heat radiating from his burnt arms and face. His eyes were heavy, and he leaned his head back, closing them slowly. His head still seemed to spin slightly in the darkness, but it was better than using the energy it would take to keep them open for much longer.

--

“Baby?” Benji’s eyes started to flutter open as he heard Taryn’s voice at his side, “Ben, wake up. We’re back. I got you a burrito.”

He struggled to properly open his eyes as he tried to take in what she was saying. “Burrito? Huh?” He said hoarsely, before the conversation from earlier came back to him. “Oh, right.”

The smell of carne asada and warm tortilla hit his nostrils, and he swallowed uneasily as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and forced himself to sit up straight in the passenger seat. “God damn, how long was I out?” He dragged a hand down his face and bit back a yawn.

“Basically from the second we left the parking lot,” Taryn smiled, looking at him fondly, “Grady wasn’t hungry so he already went back up to his hotel room to take a nap. I bought you some aloe vera at the gas station, too. I can’t believe you didn’t wake up.”

She extended a giant burrito wrapped in foil towards him and he hesitantly took it from her, staring down at it with trepidation. His stomach rocked back and forth inside him like a boat in a storm. “This thing is…fucking huge,” he commented.

“Well we hiked five miles and you’ve hardly had more than a protein bar. You could use the calories.”

Benji bristled a little at that. “Don’t keep tabs on me,” he said snippily, meeting his girlfriend’s eyes with a hard stare, one that quickly softened when he saw the earnestness in her brown eyes.

She rolled her eyes at his prickly response, not impressed. “Are you hungry or not?”

“I could eat,” he shrugged his shoulders, and his eyes darted to the floor. “Thanks.” It was true, sort of. He was stuck between the clawing emptiness in his belly and the sick feeling that rose in his chest when he thought of putting something in his mouth. He could still feel the searing heat in his cheeks and his entire head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, yet heavy as a bowling ball at the same time.

Each step to their hotel room was an absolute drag, and Benji sank gratefully onto the edge of the soft bed the second they stepped inside. He looked down at the foil-wrapped burrito in his hand and hesitated. Taryn was already eagerly unwrapping hers next to him, and he swallowed down the hint of disgust clawing its way up.

He managed to eat almost half of the burrito over the next fifteen minutes, the tortilla and asada feeling dry and scratchy against his throat with every bite. It settled in his stomach like a rock and he shook his head, his already meager appetite completely vanquished. “Can’t fucking eat this anymore…” he muttered under his breath, wrapping the food back up and setting it on top of the TV stand.

“Come on, I think its pretty yummy,” Taryn smiled at him, but her grin quickly faltered when he leaned forwards and planted his elbows on his knees, intertwining his fingers across the back of his neck as he bowed his head. “Benji?”

He didn’t respond immediately, a shaky sigh escaping him. “I’m good,” he grit out, “just…give me a fucking second. Please.” His skin felt clammy and cool even though his inner temperature was burning like fire and he was still sweating. His stomach gurgled uneasily in defiance of what he’d put inside it and he shuddered.

“Hey, babe, look at me,” Taryn murmured, her voice much softer now. Benji reluctantly unlinked his hands, letting one arm fall across his lap and propping his chin up on the other palm as he tilted his face towards her with narrowed eyes.

“What?” He said impatiently, shutting his lips tightly as an unexpected burp rolled up his chest. His cheeks puffed out with the noise, and he grimaced at the taste of stomach acid and grilled steak hitting the back of his tongue. “Ugh.”

His girlfriend’s hand came to rest on his back. “That heat really got to you, huh? You okay?”

Benji subconsciously leaned into her touch and shivered again. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t fucking know. I just feel fucking…weird.” His throat clicked and he made a low noise, a hiccup dragging itself out from the depths of his diaphragm. “Shit.”

Taryn slipped her hand underneath his shirt to rub up and down his spine. His back was slimy with sweat, and he shifted uncomfortably at her touch spreading it all around. “You want some water? Maybe some aloe vera for your poor skin, too,” Taryn suggested, not waiting for a response. She fetched him a water bottle and fished the small bottle of aloe vera gel she’d bought out of her purse, sitting back down next to him.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, but made no effort to resist when she took one of his arms and started to rub a layer of sticky aloe across the reddened skin, soothing the burn immediately.

“You’re not,” she chided gently, taking his other arm in her hand, “you’re exhausted, and sunburnt, and—” his stomach cut her off with an ominous gurgle, “—your body is unhappy with you, case in point. That hike was a bad idea, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, five miles in 100 degrees to look at the same cactus over and over again was certainly a fucking choice,” he muttered, the sick feeling in his chest growing with every second. The cool gel sinking into his skin felt nice, but being tugged and jerked around by his girlfriend was overwhelming, a tingling feeling igniting in the back of his throat as he tried to ground himself. He gently extracted his arm from her grip and took a deep breath, full-blown nausea blooming inside him. He tried to take a sip from the water she’d given him, but it was no use.  

His chest jumped with another, deeper burp, a shudder rippling through him as he let it out. “Mm,” he grunted and brought a fist to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as the meager mouthful of water hit his stomach unpleasantly. The urge to gag sprang up his throat and he bent forwards slightly, huffing through his nose as he tried to control himself. He lurched as the urge hit him more strongly.

“Okay, come on,” Taryn squeezed his thigh, “I think you’re losing this battle, babe.”

“Yeah,” he choked out his agreement, stiffly rising to his feet as he robotically made his way to the bathroom, his hold on his stomach precarious at best. He doubled over immediately and planted his hands on the cistern to stabilize himself, pushing his weight into his heels as he was wracked with a quiet but forceful retch. He had already been so miserable before, and now this? The universe was cruel.

Taryn was close behind him and laid her hand dormant on the small of his back as he started to properly heave. “Aww, Ben,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Benji wordlessly dropped into a crouch and switched his grip onto the rim of the toilet, a wet belch bubbling up and mixing with a gag as his body convulsed. A thick line of spit hung uselessly from his lip as a result. Finally, his chest seized with a massive burp, sending with it a spray of barely digested carne asada and rice. He choked on the unexpected wave of sick, breaking into a hacking cough as another torrent quickly poured past his lips. “Fuck,” his voice was gurgly and distorted by the amount of saliva streaming from his mouth as he vomited, and he only just managed to choke out the word before he puked again.

Taryn patted his back ever so softly, not wanting to overwhelm him too much. “God, Benji,” she cringed at the barrage of sounds and sights before her; the tone of her voice kind of made him want to die.

“Sorry,” he gasped in an uncharacteristic show of apology, causing his girlfriend to quickly shush him and smooth his short hair down.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly, “I just feel so awful; I didn’t realize the sun would hit you so hard. I should’ve known better.”

Benji managed to snort contemptuously at that in a short reprieve from the crushing nausea. “’M a fucking adult, Taryn. I’m responsible for myself, thanks.” His tone was cutting, but his words were an offer of comfort towards his self-critical girlfriend. “I’ll live—” the end of his sentence was thwarted by an unexpected second wave of vomiting, and he nearly buried his face in the toilet with the force of the violent burp that rocketed up his throat before he expelled the paltry remains of his stomach.

Taryn continued to pat his back gently as he finally came down from his episode, panting harshly and spitting over and over before flushing the toilet and laying his warm cheek on the cool porcelain.

“You gonna be okay?” She asked, a slight smile flickering across her face at the sight of him totally worn out.

“I will be,” Benji cracked an eye open to side-eye her, “once we get the fuck out of Arizona.”

[tomato-sickfics]

i know it’s been a bit since you’ve written but i just want to express my love for your work. maybe a bit silly, but i’ve been reading for… at least 3 years now, and benji has become by far one of my favorite characters. i genuinely would go as far to call him a comfort character. i see a lot of myself in him and i just adore him. that’s all, really, hope to see you back again eventually ❤️

Thank you so much anon, this means so much to me!

My relationship with Benji as a character has become much more complicated over time, he is very much based off of the worst parts of me, haha. I love him though and I'm glad you do too.

I really do appreciate this more than you know :)

[tomato-sickfics]

Thought it would be nice to do some character design updates…

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hey man everything all good ? You’ve just been real quiet and I’m a tad worried ik u said earlier u disappear a but just wanted to make sure ur all good

uhmmmm hi anon you sent this a long time ago (like late November) and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to respond!!

I'm okay, my life has been very chaotic the last year. Firstly, I tend to disappear when I'm in a relationship, as I get more nervous about being 'caught' indulging in this kink, lmfao. Also, ADHD go brrrr and I will hyper-fixate on sickfic and writing for months at a time and then completely drop it. I disappeared for nearly two years at one point although this had more to do with being trapped in an abusive relationship and berated out of engaging in my creative hobbies, which I'm still struggling to recover from. But right now I'm definitely doing okay.

I recently obtained a new job I really wanted and just moved halfway across the country (1,600 miles from home) by myself, after graduating college less than a year ago. Bf and I are doing very well but he did not come with me (wants to move down later) and thus I now have a lot more alone time. I might dabble around here a little more given this new life, but I make no guarantees.

In 2025 I really want to get back into my creative pursuits after feeling completely burnt out and depressed about them for the past several years. I was recently diagnosed with OCD and sometimes the burden of perfectionism makes creating more stressful for me than cathartic. I hope to make somewhat of a return and learn to engage in my hobbies in a healthier way. But we'll see.

But despite being extremely stressed about a ton of life changes and becoming an actual full-grown adult post-college (read: utterly broke af), life is (mostly) going my way right now. I'm okay. Thanks for checking in <3

[tomato-sickfics]

Bro.

Okay holy shit, there has been developments. Shortly before I left work, bf texted me that he didn’t want to worry me but his tummy was hurting again. I asked if I could call him when I got home, he said yes. So I walk in the door and call him. He picks up and he looks like SHIT. I mean truly awful, sweaty, pale as a fucking ghost. He’s borderline in tears because his stomach is so upset. He tells me it got so much worse in the last few minutes and I can see on his face how distressed he is. He’s basically rocking back and forth in his chair clutching his stomach, I ask if he thinks he’s going to throw up. He chokes out, “yeah, I think I am,” and then, “fuck, it’s coming.” Literally we were on the phone for less than 30 seconds before it all went to shit. I’m propped up against his computer so I see him hunch over his trash can, but just before it starts he looks up in a panic to mute himself and his phone falls over so I can’t see anything, but I know he’s vomiting. I just say some comforting words every now and then, hoping he can hear me. About five minutes pass, and he picks up the phone and unmutes. He looks awful, his eyes are teary, he’s sniffling, the works. He’s panting and he starts spitting into the garbage can repeatedly, complaining about the taste. His stomach calmed down a little from throwing up. I stayed on the phone while he napped for a while, and he felt okay enough to play a game when he woke up. He drank a bottle of alka-seltzer and kept having these super forceful wet burps come up that he was really struggling to stifle. After one of them, I asked if he was okay and he said, “yeah, it’s just my tummy.” I asked him if he still felt bloated like he had on Saturday and Sunday and he said, “yeah. My tummy just feels so big right now. I hate it.” He felt better for a while, but started to feel worse again. Over the last several hours he’s kind of been cycling through feeling sick and feeling better, I finally convinced him to eat some crackers and he’s been doing fine since then. Unfortunately my coworker is also sick and MY stomach isn’t feeling too hot now either but maybe it’s just in my head.

Definitely feeling really worried about him. Appreciate everyone worried that it might be something serious! If it continues I am definitely going to push him harder about getting checked out, but unfortunately I’m not his mommy and how he decides to handle it is ultimately his decision. I’m just trying to be supportive 😅

Back from the dead for a ✨story time✨

So this situation is ongoing. Bf came to visit me this weekend, he drove 4.5 hours and got here Friday night. We went out to a Thai restaurant, and he had hardly eaten anything when he leaned back in his seat and cupped the underside of his belly a little. I looked at him and he said, “my tummy’s a little upset.” Right after that he muffled a burp. I asked in “what way” it was upset and he pressed his finger into the middle of his upper belly and said, “right here, it kind of hurts.” He didn’t end up eating much. After that, we went to a bar to meet up with my coworkers. I asked if he was going to order a drink and he told me he was going to wait for a while because his stomach was still bothering him and he didn’t know why. Eventually it seemed to clear up.

Saturday, we took a nap after going out for pizza for lunch. I woke up to him sitting on the edge of the bed. He told me he’d sat up because his “tummy started hurting” and said it had been going on for a while. I sat up and he put his head in my lap so I could rub his stomach, but only stayed there for about a minute before he sat back up and said, “no, I need to sit up. It’s really hurting.” I got up to get him some water and he stood up with me. He started pacing around a little bit and held his stomach and actually groaned about how bad it was feeling. It was super out of character. Then he sat back down and buried his head in his hands. Then he straightened up and immediately kind of doubled over, pressing his hand into his stomach and asked if I had tums in this really strained voice. He sounded legitimately desperate, I have never heard him like that before. I didn’t, and asked if we should go to the gas station to get some, and he said, “can you do it? I’m afraid the car will make it worse.” I stood at the edge of the bed and he leaned his forehead into my stomach and said, “I’m feeling a little nauseous.” When I got back, he said he’d used the bathroom and felt a little better. We sat outside drawing for a while, and when I asked him how he was doing, he said he still felt really full (we hadn’t eaten for hours) and like there was a lot of pressure in his stomach. The tums seemed to help though and he calmed down after that.

Sunday, we decided to go on a hike. We ate some of the leftover pizza for breakfast (very healthy, I know) and got on the road. I live in the sticks so it was a bit of a drive. He asked if we could find a bathroom at the campground once we were there, and he was in there for a while. Once he was back I went to pee, and when I got back to the car he was leaned all the way back in his seat with both hands on his stomach. He told me his stomach was hurting again and had actually been hurting for most of the drive, so I parked the car and started to rub his stomach a little. He has a soft tummy but it felt kind of firm right then. He suggested we just start the hike (leisurely 1.5 miles) and that walking might help. It seemingly did, but every time we sat down to admire the scenery for a bit he would start complaining again that it was hurting. Towards the end, I asked how he was holding up and he said, “I’m okay, I just feel so bloated.” We got back to the car and took a gravel road to get out. It got pretty rough at some points and I was trying to drive as gently as I could, but he said every bump was making it hurt. At one point he got so uncomfortable that he unbuckled his seatbelt. He leaned very far forwards and let out this really wet burp. I patted his back for a few seconds and he sighed and said, “thank you baby.” He insisted we go get lunch at this place I really wanted to show him, despite not having much of an appetite. He said he was starting to feel better. While there, he let out this super long closed mouth burp that was literally the deepest burp I have ever heard in my life. From the depths of actual hell. He felt a lot better until later that night, when it started hurting again. I gave him some tums again and held him from behind so I could rub his tummy, which seemed to clear things up.

Yesterday, I had to leave for work early in the morning and he left to drive the 4.5 hours back later that morning. He got back right as I got home, and I texted to ask how he was feeling, expecting him to be fine. He texted me that his stomach was still hurting right in the center and that he had to pull over to throw up. I was so surprised (and sad I missed it 😔). FaceTiming later, he said while driving his mouth had started watering really bad and he realized he had about five seconds to pull over, so he had to stop right there on the edge of the highway and immediately throw up. He said it “wasn’t that much”, and that it hadn’t even made him feel much better, but he stopped to buy some tums and that helped, but only a little. He said his “tummy was still a bit upset” and later kind of flopped over on his bed and miserably whined, “why is my tummy so angry with me?” Later, he sat down at his desk, grimaced and grabbed his stomach, then said, “oooh, my stomach is still feeling kinda funky.” He started to feel better late that night.

As of this morning he is feeling fine, but hasn’t eaten anything because he’s afraid it’s going to upset his stomach. The stomach pain seems to get worse after he eats. Idk if it’s just a really weird bug or what but I’m worried about him. I’ll update if anything happens.

Update: he ate some toast and eggs and now his tummy is upset again 😫 I wish I could just be there for him, I hate long distance!!!

[tomato-sickfics]

Back from the dead for a ✨story time✨

So this situation is ongoing. Bf came to visit me this weekend, he drove 4.5 hours and got here Friday night. We went out to a Thai restaurant, and he had hardly eaten anything when he leaned back in his seat and cupped the underside of his belly a little. I looked at him and he said, “my tummy’s a little upset.” Right after that he muffled a burp. I asked in “what way” it was upset and he pressed his finger into the middle of his upper belly and said, “right here, it kind of hurts.” He didn’t end up eating much. After that, we went to a bar to meet up with my coworkers. I asked if he was going to order a drink and he told me he was going to wait for a while because his stomach was still bothering him and he didn’t know why. Eventually it seemed to clear up.

Saturday, we took a nap after going out for pizza for lunch. I woke up to him sitting on the edge of the bed. He told me he’d sat up because his “tummy started hurting” and said it had been going on for a while. I sat up and he put his head in my lap so I could rub his stomach, but only stayed there for about a minute before he sat back up and said, “no, I need to sit up. It’s really hurting.” I got up to get him some water and he stood up with me. He started pacing around a little bit and held his stomach and actually groaned about how bad it was feeling. It was super out of character. Then he sat back down and buried his head in his hands. Then he straightened up and immediately kind of doubled over, pressing his hand into his stomach and asked if I had tums in this really strained voice. He sounded legitimately desperate, I have never heard him like that before. I didn’t, and asked if we should go to the gas station to get some, and he said, “can you do it? I’m afraid the car will make it worse.” I stood at the edge of the bed and he leaned his forehead into my stomach and said, “I’m feeling a little nauseous.” When I got back, he said he’d used the bathroom and felt a little better. We sat outside drawing for a while, and when I asked him how he was doing, he said he still felt really full (we hadn’t eaten for hours) and like there was a lot of pressure in his stomach. The tums seemed to help though and he calmed down after that.

Sunday, we decided to go on a hike. We ate some of the leftover pizza for breakfast (very healthy, I know) and got on the road. I live in the sticks so it was a bit of a drive. He asked if we could find a bathroom at the campground once we were there, and he was in there for a while. Once he was back I went to pee, and when I got back to the car he was leaned all the way back in his seat with both hands on his stomach. He told me his stomach was hurting again and had actually been hurting for most of the drive, so I parked the car and started to rub his stomach a little. He has a soft tummy but it felt kind of firm right then. He suggested we just start the hike (leisurely 1.5 miles) and that walking might help. It seemingly did, but every time we sat down to admire the scenery for a bit he would start complaining again that it was hurting. Towards the end, I asked how he was holding up and he said, “I’m okay, I just feel so bloated.” We got back to the car and took a gravel road to get out. It got pretty rough at some points and I was trying to drive as gently as I could, but he said every bump was making it hurt. At one point he got so uncomfortable that he unbuckled his seatbelt. He leaned very far forwards and let out this really wet burp. I patted his back for a few seconds and he sighed and said, “thank you baby.” He insisted we go get lunch at this place I really wanted to show him, despite not having much of an appetite. He said he was starting to feel better. While there, he let out this super long closed mouth burp that was literally the deepest burp I have ever heard in my life. From the depths of actual hell. He felt a lot better until later that night, when it started hurting again. I gave him some tums again and held him from behind so I could rub his tummy, which seemed to clear things up.

Yesterday, I had to leave for work early in the morning and he left to drive the 4.5 hours back later that morning. He got back right as I got home, and I texted to ask how he was feeling, expecting him to be fine. He texted me that his stomach was still hurting right in the center and that he had to pull over to throw up. I was so surprised (and sad I missed it 😔). FaceTiming later, he said while driving his mouth had started watering really bad and he realized he had about five seconds to pull over, so he had to stop right there on the edge of the highway and immediately throw up. He said it “wasn’t that much”, and that it hadn’t even made him feel much better, but he stopped to buy some tums and that helped, but only a little. He said his “tummy was still a bit upset” and later kind of flopped over on his bed and miserably whined, “why is my tummy so angry with me?” Later, he sat down at his desk, grimaced and grabbed his stomach, then said, “oooh, my stomach is still feeling kinda funky.” He started to feel better late that night.

As of this morning he is feeling fine, but hasn’t eaten anything because he’s afraid it’s going to upset his stomach. The stomach pain seems to get worse after he eats. Idk if it’s just a really weird bug or what but I’m worried about him. I’ll update if anything happens.

Update: he ate some toast and eggs and now his tummy is upset again 😫 I wish I could just be there for him, I hate long distance!!!

[tomato-sickfics]

dude u alive ? U haven’t posted in a while and I wanted to make sure ur ok

Heyyy yes I’m alive, thanks for checking lol.

I have a very physically demanding job that has honestly zapped all my energy so whenever I’m not working I’m kind of just laying around trying to recuperate or spending the little time I have available talking to my bf.

I’ve also been dealing with some depression and trauma surrounding the car accident I was in last month, I was told I was inches from having my skull crushed and probably would have died if i was taller. Idk the whole thing has been taking a huge toll on my mental health and thoughts of mortality and stuff, I just don’t have the energy.

I’m sure I’ll be back eventually! Anyone who’s been around for a long time knows I have a habit of disappearing for months with spontaneous bursts of activity.

Thanks for checking in :)

[tomato-sickfics]

Oh my I got sick in front of my girlfriend for the first time this morning. And though i felt like shit —- the experience of hearing her say “Get it all up baby, good girl” turned me on to the extreme. I’ve been going through ssri withdrawals so my appetite and nausea have been horrific. I feel awful most of the day but part of me hopes it happens again just to hear her say that again.

Ohhhh my goddddd anon I’m so jealous 😩😩😩 I’m sorry you’re feeling so shitty but that sounds amazing!!! I’d kill to hear my boyfriend say that to me 🥹

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things my boyfriend has said that make me blush thinking about it part 2:

I also have three specific stories that happened while he was visiting if anyone is interested 👀 I’ve noticed he has a habit of using the word “burpy” which I love sooooo much

“Oh im burping a little bit, i had Taco Bell.”

“I can’t wait for you to scratch my tummy.”

“I can’t wait to hear your tummy rumble again.”

“Ooh, big burp. Excuse me. I didn’t mean to be so nasty.”

“Excuse me. That’s some bubbly soda.”

“I’m a little bubbly.”

“Excuse me, I’m a little burpy. Sorry for being so gross.”

“I need to get all the bubbles out.”

“I’m a burpy boy, I’m kind of realizing that.”

“I’m having some acid reflux. My stomach feels tossy-turny.”

“That Mexican food made me so gassy.”

“My tummy’s kind of aching baby. I feel like I need to burp but the air is stuck down here in my stomach.”

“Ugh, I need to stop being so burpy.”

“I tasted the tequila in that burp.”

“I’m so full, I need tummy rubs when we get home.”

“Oh, that cleared up a ton of space. I’m sorry I’m so gross.”

[tomato-sickfics]

Losing control of your car on a loose gravel patch at the edge of the road and flipping into a ditch at 60mph is a 0/10 experience. Would not recommend

[tomato-sickfics]

Unwanted

A/N: CW for a little unwanted physical male attention and some sexual innuendo, plus a little light fooling around, but nothing explicit.  And while this isn’t quite the start of Rory and Noa’s arc, Rory’s reaction here is important because of something that happens in the future, fyi.  Also, I got another great Rory ask when I was halfway done with this one, so Anon, if you are reading, I'm going to write that soon.

“You’re so hot.” Rory’s voice was low in Noa’s ear and his hands were roaming over her in a way he’d never attempt in front of his coworkers on a normal day. Not that most of them were likely to remember, because everyone, including her boyfriend, was wasted.  The group of FBI agents had taken over two long tables at one side of the bar and now Noa twisted on Rory’s lap until she was sitting more sideways, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It is rather warm in here; maybe I should ask the bar to open a window?”  She wiggled against him and smirked when his eyes went a bit unfocused.  It was fun being sober when Rory was this drunk.  He got playful and publicly cuddly and rather silly, and she loved it.

One of his hands found its way up under the back of her shirt.  “Not that kind of hot,” he mumbled, lips busy against her neck.  “The kind that wants to make you naked.”

“Make me naked?” she laughed.  “How do you make me naked?”

Rory’s hand traveled higher.  “You knowwww . . .urp . . . how.”  He blew out a boozy breath and Noa wrinkled her nose.  

“Gross, Ror.”  She made a big show of turning her head away.

“Noooo,” Rory pouted, or he was possibly just saying her name. He put his hand on her cheek and turned her face back to his.  “Kiss me - I promise not to burp again.” He leaned in with a cheesy pucker. 

“Liar,” Noa laughed.  She could feel how much her boyfriend’s stomach was gurgling against her side.  Neither it nor the burping really bothered her; Rory was just fun to tease him when he was like this.  She pressed her lips against his, intending to give him a quick peck - they were sitting in the middle of all his coworkers, after all - but he clumsily grabbed the back of her neck and opened his mouth to hers.  

Despite herself, Noa shivered.  Rory made a sound low in his throat, and the hand that was currently under the back of her shirt pressed in until her chest was flush against his and she could feel exactly what he wanted.  She gave a hum of agreement, her sober mind already thinking about possibilities.

“Awww, getta room guys!  All us single people don’ need to see that!”  One of Rory’s coworkers - a muscular man named Avery who was nearly as tall as Rory - pushed drunkenly on his shoulder.  

Rory grinned and turned sideways in his chair to try to push back, and almost lost his balance;  he swayed and had to tighten his arms around Noa to keep her from slipping off his lap.  

“Oops, don’t fall,” he muttered, before finally making contact with the side of his friend’s hip, smacking it with a loud slap.  He squinted at the man.

“What happened to your, hic, boyfriend . . . whas ‘is name, Kyle?” 

“Speak not the Devil’s name,” said Avery dramatically.  “He is not my boyfriend anymore.  Nevermore. NEVERMORE!” He jumped up on a chair.  “Quote the Avery . . . Nevermore!” he intoned, while other FBI agents cheered and flicked beer in his direction.  He pointed down at Rory and Noa.  “GOALS.  Right there.”  He jumped down off the chair.  “I need to find a Noa,” he said mournfully.  “But with an ‘H.’ A Noah.”  

Noa wiggled off Rory’s lap and stood up. “I’ll look for one,” she said sincerely.  “You’re a total catch.”  

“I know, right?” Avery grinned, happy again.  “Any decent guy would be lucky to have me.” He nodded to no one in particular.

Rory grabbed Noa’s hand.  “Where’re you going’?  I thought we were gonna, you know, make naked.”  He stage-whispered that last bit but it still wasn’t that quiet, and Avery couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Do I even want to know what that means?”  He lowered his voice conspiratorially to Noa.  “I'll be sure to give him shit when we’re both sober, but don’ worry - I won’ tell anyone else.  Cause he’d kill me.”  He moved even closer to Noa’s ear.  “He’s verrrrry private, you know.”

Noa laughed.  “I do know.” She was impressed that even drunk, the man understood Rory that well. “And now I need to go to the bathroom.”

Rory had gotten pulled into a game of quarters and was already doing a shot, and Noa mentally revised their plans for the next day to include taking care of a very hungover boyfriend.  

The women’s bathroom was at the end of a long hallway, and she was on her way back when someone grabbed her arm from behind.  She turned around with a grin, expecting to fall into Rory's arms for a kiss - or more - and was shocked to see an unfamiliar man leering at her.  Her momentum propelled her into his chest and he wrapped his arm familiarly around her waist.

“Nice to meet you too; wanna get out of here?” 

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but usually the guy wasn’t so blatant. Noa pushed firmly away.  “Nope. Here with my boyfriend.”  She turned back towards the bar, but the man was either too drunk or too brazen to take the hint.  He grabbed her again.

“Come’on, we’ve all heard that excuse; lessss jus’ have fun.”  His hand moved up her back, finding the open skin from where Rory had untucked her shirt earlier.  

“Get off me!” The guy had Noa in the wrong position for her to be able to get a knee into his crotch, but she had sobriety on her side.  And a second later she also had Rory, who emerged from the bathroom just as Noa shoved the stranger away from her hard enough that he stumbled - right into him.  

Even drunk, Rory’s reflexes were intact enough to catch the man and push him against  the wall.  “She said to get the fuck off her,” he growled, just as two of his co-workers appeared in the hallway. 

“Need backup, Landis?” one of them asked tersely while the other - Avery, Noa saw now - positioned himself in front of her in a protective stance.  

Rory gave the guy another shove, swaying slightly himself from the effort of holding him in place.  “Nah, three against one isn’t fair.” His eyes found Noa’s.  “Or four against one; should I tell the whole bar you got knocked down by a girl?”  His arm twitched, and she knew his need to keep the “perp” contained was warring with his instinct to make sure she was okay. He flicked his head at her but she shook hers back; there was no need for her to leave.

“Fuck you,” the guy scoffed, but he clearly wasn’t about to fight three burly FBI agents.  Still, he had to get in one more dig.  “She looks like used goods anyway.”  He turned his face in Noa’s direction.  “How many guys have you fucked here tonight, sweetheart?  Just these three? Or are there any more?” 

Rory had been just easing himself away and back towards Noa, but now he froze, the serious expression on his face morphing into fury in an instant.  His hands curled into fists just as all three men moved towards the figure against the wall.

WIthout even thinking about it, Noa ducked around Avery and wrapped her arm around her boyfriend’s waist.  “Not worth it,” she urged softly, feeling his entire body vibrate with suppressed rage. “I’m fine.”  He stared at her for a long moment as if wasn’t sure what was going on and she realized he was even more drunk than she’d thought, although hiding it well. He swallowed harshly and his weight shifted as he subtly leaned into her.

The agent Noa didn’t recognize put his hand on Rory’s shoulder. “We’ve got this; you , , , you  and Noa get out of here.”   After another long beat of silence, Rory nodded.  But instead of turning away, he got his face right up in the other man’s first, and his words were careful and measured, without the slightest slurring.  

“This bar is a favorite of the Boston FBI; I suggest you stay the fuck away if you know what’s good for you.  We all know what you look like.”  Without waiting for an answer, he reached back out and grabbed Noa’s hand.

“Thanks,” he muttered.  “I owe you.”  

“No you don’t,” Avery scoffed, putting his hand on Rory’s shoulder again. “You literally saved my life on that takedown last month, remember? Now get out of here. We’ll talk about your girlfriend finding me a Noah with an H later.”  He gave them both a push towards the exit. 

Noa could feel Rory’s hand trembling in hers the entire time he was pulling her through the bar and out onto the street, walking rapidly away while his eyes scanned the area.  Only once they were half a block away did he pull her into the doorway of a closed clothing boutique and turn her to face him.  

“Are you okay?” he demanded thickly. He was swaying on his feet more than he’d been during the confrontation.”What . . . What did he do?” She nodded quickly.

“I’m totally fine,” she promised. “He only touched me for like, two seconds.”  

Rory’s throat made a convulsive sound.  “He shouldn’tve touched you at all.”  The slurring was back in his voice.  “No one should . . . touch you.  ‘Cept me.”  One of his hands crept back up under her shirt.  “Only me,” he said tersely.

“Only you,” she agreed, pressing her hand into his cheek.  Rory closed his eyes and turned into her touch, breathing unevenly. They swayed together for a few seconds until he suddenly pushed them both against the side of the alcove and lowered his  mouth to hers, kissing insistently.  

Noa kissed him back, unsurprised by his possessiveness. He’d always hated seeing her get hit on, although over the years he’d gotten better at suppressing those emotions.  

Not when drunk, apparently.  Now she could practically feel the tension rolling off his body as his lips and hands tried to make his brain forget what he’d just seen.  

She had no idea how long they might have stood on the street making out if Rory’s stomach hadn’t suddenly given a thick gurgle and he’d pulled his face away from hers to belch.  

“Oof.” He blew out a relieved breath and rubbed at his chest, working up another burp.  “Needed that.”  When he started to lean into her again she put her hands on his shoulders to stop him.  

“We also need to get home, unless you want to sleep with me in this doorway.”  Noa rose up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.  “Personally I’d prefer a bed.”  

Rory shivered, and some of the stress left his body.  “A bed,” he repeated.  He swallowed and licked his lips.  “Yeah. A bed.”  He grabbed at her hand, eyes suddenly bright.  “Let’s go get a bed.” 

They made it to the street corner and once there, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and began planting sloppy kisses on the side of her neck.  Noa could feel that he was hard; maybe he wasn’t quite as drunk as she’d thought.  She raised her hand and a cab flashed its headlights from the next block down while Rory moved his hand across her front in a way he’d never do in public if he’d been sober.   They fell into the backseat and Rory kept kissing her, making quietly satisfied sounds as his hands traveled up her body.  Noa caught the driver grinning at them in the rearview mirror and carefully peeled one of Rory’s hands off her stomach.

“Not here,” she murmured, kissing him.  “Almost home.”  

“Home,” he said with a boozy chuckle.  His head fell onto her shoulder.  “Can we get . . . hic . . . naked at home?”  

“I’ll strip you myself,” she promised.  

Rory hiccupped again, his entire body jumping.  “Thasss . . . good,” he said.  “Cause I want.  I . . .urrrp . .sex.” He belched softly onto Noa’s collarbone.  

“S-s-sorry,” he slurred.  “Gassy.”   Noa rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand., revising her opinion of his level of drunkeness back up to "really really high" again.

“You okay, Ror?” 

He sighed, his breath warm on her neck.  “Yeah,” he mumbled.  “Still want . . . hic . . . sex.”  

Noa knew the chances of Rory being able to follow through on that request were almost zero.  Still, she hummed in agreement.  “That sounds fun,” she said, kissing him on the temple as the cab pulled up in front of their building.   

His hand grabbed clumsily at her thigh.  “Iss good,” he mumbled, as Noa handed the driver a folded $20.  “Sex.”  

“Yep, sex,” she agreed again, helping him out of the cab and wrapping her arm around his waist. She needed every inch of her 5 foot, 7 inch frame to hold her boyfriend upright.  “Come on now, let’s go inside and find it before you crush me.”

“Wouldn’t,” he said indignantly, straightening himself up and putting one foot deliberately in front of the other.  “Wouldn’t crush you.”  They got inside, where he leaned against the wall of the elevator and gave her a bleary smile.  “Cause I love you.” He rocked on his feet.

Noa put her arm around him again.  “I love you too, especially when you aren’t crushing me.” She led them carefully into their apartment and then down the hall to their bedroom.  Her plan was to sit Rory down on the bed and make him drink a glass of water before helping him out of his clothes, but as soon as she turned around to turn on the light he pulled away from her.

“Gotta pee,” he mumbled, fumbling his jeans open before stumbling into the ensuite bath.  

“Try not to miss the toilet,” she called out, quickly shedding her own clothes and pulling on one of the oversized t-shirts she liked to sleep in.  She was pulling down the comforter and arranging the pillows when there was a sudden thump from the bathroom, like something - or someone - had been knocked over.  

“Fuck.” 

Noa rushed in to find her boyfriend sitting on the floor, legs tangled up in his jeans, which were mostly around his ankles.  He’d pulled off his button down shirt and it was sitting in the sink getting soaked by the running faucet.  “I fell,” he said unnecessarily.  

Noa stifled a giggle.  “I can see that. Are you hurt?”  She turned off the water and pulled off the rest of his jeans and before helping him to his feet.  He leaned into her and rested his cheek on the top of her head.  

“I don’ think so.”  His body jolted with a hiccup.  “Maybe.”

“Well, you can tell me in the morning when you’re sober.  I’ll look for bruises.”  They walked back into the bedroom and Rory fell heavily onto the bed, pulling her with him.   

“Rory!  Move, you big lump!”  She poked her finger into the corner of his hip and he immediately folded in on himself and rolled off of her.  

“Oof,” he gasped.  “Why’dja do that?” He stayed curled up.

“So I didn’t get crushed, remember?”  Noa pulled the comforter over them both and leaned and gave him a soft peck on the lips.  He kissed her back for a second, mouth barely moving, and then his head fell onto the pillow. 

“I can’t . . . sex,” he mumbled mournfully.  “Tomorrow.” He rolled over, taking most of the comforter with him.  Noa kissed him on the head and got up to get herself a blanket from the closet. By the time she got back he was already snoring, and too late she realized he’d not drunk any water.  Well, that was a problem for the morning.

Unfortunately for both of them, morning came sooner than Noa expected.  It was after one a.m. when she fell asleep to the uneven sound of Rory’s drunken snores and not yet six when he groaned and woke her up.  

The room was dim; it had started raining sometime in the night and she could hear it hitting the roof.  Rory was lying next to her, propped up against the pillows with the comforter bunched under him and with one arm thrown across his eyes.  There was a rumble of thunder outside and his face scrunched with discomfort.  

Moving slowly so as not to jostle the bed, Noa scooted herself closer and planted her hand on his bare thigh.  He flinched and groaned again before his body relaxed.  “Hey,” she whispered.  

Rory swallowed roughly.  “Hey,” he rasped, but didn’t say anything else.  Noa squeezed his leg. 

“Do I need to ask how you’re feeling?” 

He gave the barest shake of his head. “Nope.”  He swallowed again.  

“Do you want some water?  Or Tylenol?”  Noa mentally kicked herself for not having them ready on the nightstand.  

Instead of answering, Rory began massaging his temples.  “Did a guy touch you last night?”

Noa froze.  Of course he’d remember that, even as drunk as he’d been.  “Yes,” she admitted.  “But you stopped him pretty quickly.  He just . . . had his hand on my back for a second.”

“Too long,” Rory mumbled.  He rubbed his head harder.  “Did I beat him up?”

“No; you showed proper restraint.”  Rory’s throat was bobbing and Noa tried to locate where their garbage can was without moving from her position. 

“Jack and . . . Avery?  Did they beat him up?” He put his fingers to his lips for a moment and gave a closed-mouth burp before his body relaxed.

“I don’t think so, but Avery was watching out for me while you shoved the asshole into the wall.”  Rory gave her a ghost of a smile that turned almost immediately into a grimace.  

“My head’s killing me.”  He struggled to sit further up in the bed.  

Noa put her hand on the back of his neck.  “Let me get you some meds and a wet washcloth.” He gave another tiny shake of his head.

“Not until after I puke,” he said, eyes closed. She stopped moving.

“Now?”  He shrugged.

“Not sure when.  I’m really nauseous though.” 

Noa made a sympathetic sound.  “Bin or bathroom?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a touch of impatience. “What did the guy say to you?”  Rory gulped wetly but still didn’t move or even open his eyes.  

Noa sighed.  Apparently, rehashing the details of her getting hit on was a higher priority than vomiting right now. It wasn’t clear how much Rory actually remembered so she didn’t try to lie.  

“He wanted to know how many guy’s I’d been with at the bar, and made a rude comment about it.”  

Rory was taking slow breaths through his mouth.  Noa could hear his stomach gurgling angrily and part of her wanted to insist that he get out of bed before he got sick. Still, he seemed determined to keep asking questions. 

“Used goods, that’s what he said, right?  I remember . . ..”  Rory gulped convulsively and he squeezed some of the comforter in his fist.  “That loser . . . ulp . . . asshole.”  He gagged off to the side and kept talking.  “I should have hit him.”  

“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t,” she soothed.  When he didn’t respond, she touched his cheek. Clammy.  “Ror?”  

He silently held up a finger, face scrunched with discomfort.  She sighed.  

“Get up, Rory.  Cause I really don’t want to have to clean puke off our bed.”  Taking care of her hungover boyfriend was one thing, but really, she expected him to be able to make it to the toilet. 

When he bent over his lap and gagged, Noa resigned herself to that not happening.  Their cute, artsy garbage can was across the room, bagless, and she doubted she had time to make it to the bathroom one in time.  So instead she rested her hand on his heaving back.

“I guess we’re doing this here then.”  The woven blanket she’d slept under was still on the bed so she bunched it up in his lap like a bowl.   "Here, puke in this."

“Not . . . ugh . . .not . . .I can . . .” he stuttered, trying to speak through a series of small gags.  After each word he gave a harsh gulp and Noa expected a fountain of puke to follow any second.  But finally he breathed in deeply and sat up, pushing the blanket off his lap.

“I’m okay,” he gasped, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pushing himself slowly to his feet.  “I can make it to the bathroom.”  Still, he didn’t move in that direction, and a second later his body jolted with a hiccup.  His fingers flew back to his mouth.

Noa huffed and jumped off the bed.  “Come on, then.”  Without waiting for a response she began tugging him across the floor, feeling a small thrum of relief when his feet began moving.  The next hiccup was more like a burp, and the exhale that followed was more like a groan.  

“At least make it into the bathroom; I love this rug.” He could puke in the sink or shower or even on the floor for all she cared, but they’d gotten the hand knotted area rug at an art fair.  

Rory belched again and stumbled the last few feet into the bathroom, where he spit up so immediately into the sink Noa suspected he’d been holding it in his mouth those last few steps,  He gave a harsh retch, his back arching with the force of it, and then moved clumsily to collapse over the toilet, pushing up the lid and seat with a shaky hand.  

He panted hard, all attempts to fight the nausea gone.  “Gotta . . . gotta puke,” he breathed, and retched again.  

“Yes, I got that memo,” said Noa dryly.  She began patting his back. “Go on and try to burp.”  Rory often needed some help getting started when he was hungover, either by drinking water or forcing belches or, if nothing else worked, sticking his finger down his throat.  Now he gulped heavily.  

“That’s right, do that again.”  She waited until he’d swallowed more air before rapping between his shoulder blades.  He burped roughly, and then again.  

“Oh god,” he groaned, and then pitched forward with a wet retch.  His stomach heaved and he threw up a gush of pure liquid, sucked in a ragged breath, and then more poured out of his mouth.  

Noa switched to rubbing his back. “Fuck, Rory, did you even eat anything last night?”  Everything pouring out of him smelled strongly of stale beer and liquor.

He spit out saliva.  “Yeah,” he gasped, gagging.  “It’s coming.”  His body strained silently over the bowl, mouth open.  

“Breathe, love.”  Noa snaked her hand around his waist and pressed her fingers into the center of his stomach.  It dislodged a bubble of air and he burped up more alcohol, grunted, and then brought up something thicker that plopped into the water with a sickening sound. Without moving his head from over the toilet, he reached out blindly and flushed, vomiting again before the water stopped swirling and then panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.  

Rory threw up for longer than Noa expected; normally puking once or twice took the edge off his hangover enough for him to sleep off the rest.  This time, however, his body wouldn’t calm down.  During one lull in the heaving she asked if he wanted to go back to bed.

“Still . . . really nauseous,” he gulped.  He touched the side of his neck.  “It’s right here.  The burp.”  He leaned forward and gagged.  “Can’t . . . won’t go away.”  

“Drink the water,” Noa urged, tapping the cup he’d used to rinse out his mouth.  “All of it.  Big swallows.”  

Rory gave her a miserable look, but complied.  No sooner had he drained the final drops that his throat began bobbing uncontrollably.  He braced his arms over the toilet and rocked forward, a deep burp echoing into the bowl. He burped again, and then threw up the water, and more, in a series of painful sounding retches.

When he finally sat up, Noa was ready with a wad of toilet paper.  He wiped his face and shrugged off his t-shirt, which was damp with sweat.  “Can we go back to bed?” he asked, exhausted.  

Noa slowly helped him to his feet and held him up while he rinsed out his mouth, and then they shuffled back to the bedroom.  

“Glad I didn’t puke here,” he said weakly, lying down and opening up his arms to her. She chuckled and climbed in beside him.  “I might have made you clean it up yourself if you had.”

One of Rory’s hands splayed across her back as he settled in; it was barely 7 am and Noa hoped he could sleep for two or three hours.  But then he froze suddenly, and Noa tried to sit up for the trashcan she’d brought from the bathroom. His arms tightened around her.

“Not gonna puke,” he said.  Now that he’d vomited, he sounded more alert, although tired.  “Just . . . thinking about that guy.”  His fingers traced a circle on her skin.  “I hate that he touched you.”  

“I didn’t like it either,” she admitted.  “But you know I know how to take care of myself.”  She snuggled deeper into his side. “I’m glad you were there, though.”

Finally Rory sighed and his body relaxed.  “Me too.  But I’ll always worry about the times when I’m not.”  He played with one of her curls where it draped across his bare chest.  “I know that’s my issue to deal with though.”

Noa rested her hand gently against Rory’s stomach.  It was still gurgling, and she began to carefully move her fingers over his skin.  “It’s our issue to deal with,” she corrected him.  She pushed against a firm spot above his belly button and he gave a soft burp.

“Ugh, keep doing that,” he groaned softly.  “Okay, it’s our issue then. But I still don’t like it.”  His voice was fading.  Noa pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“I know,” she said quietly.  Rory’s breathing evened out.  She knew the conversation wasn’t done, but for now she was just happy that he was finally comforted enough to sleep. 

[tomato-sickfics]

Sooo the timeline is all wrong, HOWEVER, I feel bad I haven't posted in a while, so 🙈🙈🙈 straight from my drafts! Takes place when Jon and Leo are in the international trip with Angie.

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

Leo licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry as he watched Jonah prance around on top of the black stallion.

"C'mon, Oklahoma," Jonah grinned, all smug, and damn did arrogance suit him. Clad in riding boots and snug pants, wearing a bright red polo that brought out the green in his eyes, Jonah was a vision, "don't tell me you never rode-"

"As you're aware, I ride all the time," Leo said cheekily, measuring his fiancée up and down, committing him to memory. Jonah's cheeks turned a shade darker, but before he could say much more, Angelina trotted closer, sitting atop a smaller, beige horse.

"Leo, aren't you going to join us?!" She exclaimed, breathless. The teenager had been in cloud 9 since they met up with her in Portland airport. Jetlag and family awkwardness, nothing seemed able to tamper her mood.

"No," Leo shook his head, grabbing his sunglasses and sliding them into place, "I'm gonna keep Jackie company. Let her try and talk my ear off about the wedding."

Jonah snorted at the comment, while Angie giggled. Jon leaned on his horse, "don't let Jackie get under your skin, hold your ground."

"Yesssir," Leo nodded, opening a blinding smile, "don't worry about me, go have fun. I'll be watching."

He waved to the duo once more, before walking away from the field. Next to the polo field there was a restaurant and Jackie was already sat next to Matteo, Jon's stepdad.

Leo knew it was shallow, but he still couldn't wrap his mind around Jackie and Matteo as a couple. She was, easily and even on the cusp of turning sixty, one of the prettiest women Leo had ever seen. Just as tall as her son, with the same royal bone structure, same striking green eyes against dark skin and a dark mane of black curls. Matteo, on the other hand, was a short and chubby white man, with a thick brown mustache, beady eyes and balding strands of silver hair.

They looked like a real life version of Gomez and Morticia Addams, Leo thought with a snort as he approached the table. In truth, Leo knew it was Matteo's personality that had attracted the Jackie. The older man was the definition of a sweetheart and it showed in all his actions, including this very moment as he struggled to put together English sentences so they could have a conversation.

It made Leo feel stupid, that the whole household — Angie included — was solely talking in English, instead of French, for his benefit.

"What do you wish to drink?" Matteo asked as Leo joined them and the blonde shook his head, raising his water bottle.

"Nothing, thank you-"

"I insist," the older man frowned, "no fun in water."

"No, really-" Leo started to say, but Matteo waved him off and Jackie let out a huff, clearly done with the trade of niceties. Despite not being around much after Jonah had turned 10 years old, thanks to the divorce and him leaving to boarding school, it was uncanny how much of her personality Jackie shared with her son.

Ignoring his complaints, his future father-in-law ordered him something, while Jackie grabbed a Tiffany-blue small notebook in her purse and opened it on the table, "So," she rolled open her fancy silver pen, "do you have a date yet?"

"No, ma'am," Leo admitted, blushing without thinking, "we haven't actually decided on much-"

"A venue?"

"No..."

Jackie let out a heavy sigh, drumming her pen against the notepad, "you only have the ring and a dream," she summed up, causing Leo to choke on his water bottle as he started to laugh.

He nodded, wiping the water down his chin and catching Matteo's fond stare, "yeah, pretty much-" then he perked up as a large drink was planted in front of him. It was a pastel yellow, with a little umbrella hanging out and he raised his eyebrows, as the waiter said a jumble of french words explaining what it was. Whatever, it looked delicious and Leo had no intention to refuse it when Matteo was staring at him expectantly.

He took a sip, then perked up at the sweet taste, "It's great!"

"Told you," Matteo said smugly, resting comfortably against his chair, "he's basking in the wedding joy, mon chéri, leave him be."

"No," Jackie scoffed, "you'll get married in America, oui?"

"Oui," Leo answered cheekily, continuing to sip his drink and feeling every bit like a spoiled prince and loving it. He looked past Jackie's shoulder, to where Jonah was shouting at his fellow team mates, his horse racing across the field.

"Winter or summer?" his mother-in-law scribbled down in her notebook and vaguely Leo thought he should tell her to quit while she was ahead, because he had no intentions of letting the woman plan their wedding. Not only he wanted to be involved in every step of his own wedding planning, but he wanted to afford it and Jackie was the type of person who never looked at price tags.

"Summer," Leo sucked in half of his drink, "Luke and Bella got married in Italy and I thought their ceremony was lov-"

"Lucas' got married like a child," Jackie berated immediately, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "barefoot and pregnant, Veronica would've never have approved that."

"They weren't barefoot or pregnant," Leo pouted, although the couple had been barefoot for the final minutes of the wedding, as they jumped into the sea. Jackie scoffed, waving him off.

"You're not getting married as such," she said strongly, almost an order, and Leo fought the urge to roll his eyes, finishing his drink instead.

"Mon cher," Matteo berated Jackie lightly, "it's not up to you-"

"So summer," Jackie ignored her husband in a way that wasn't unlike Jonah, making Leo smile fondly. He reminded himself that Jonah was her only child, a son she had just rekindled a strained relationship with, it was natural for her to be all over this, "how many people are you planning on inviting?"

"Uh..." he scratched at his cheek, suddenly blushing. Next to him, Matteo finished up his fizzy drink and ordered a new one, "I don't have all that many people... Luke, Vince, Bella, Wendy, of course... Uhm, my work colleagues.... My old team... These are all guests I share with Jon," he felt incredibly awkward suddenly, as Jackie raised her eyebrows and observed him without saying a word, "around 15 people? Max?"

The waiter came back with two new drinks and Leo, who had just finished his, was incredibly grateful to Matteo for ordering another cocktail. He needed to occupy himself and have a reason to shut up, before he started apologizing for not having any family.

"Fifty people, then?" Jackie finally said, scribbling down, "it's not a bad party."

"Is it not?" Leo chewed on the straw of his drink, "isn't it... Embarrassingly small?"

Matteo let out a scoff, "Leo, it's only embarrassing if you get embarrassed by it," the man said, causing Leo to squint and try to puzzle together what exactly he meant- He never quite finished his thought, as an overly warm hand suddenly cupped his cheek and Jonah's lips were over his.

Only a quick kiss, but so open and earnest that it left Leo stunned and turning crimson red.

"What are you talking about?" Jonah pulled a chair, wiping at his brow dotted with sweat and plopping down on it. He was still panting, Angie trailing behind him and looking equally exhausted.

"Wedding," Leo offered, his voice coming out strained and a note higher than normal, causing Jonah to raise an intrigued eyebrow.

"I sure hope you're not giving my fiance cold feet, mum," he berated his mother lightly, throwing an arm around Leo's chair and letting his fingertips brush the hair on Leo's nape, sending a shiver down his spine.

He could feel his face burning, so Leo busied himself on finishing his cold drink, all but eating the straw as well.

"There was hardly time for that," Jackie said, not bothering to raise her eyes from her notebook, "all he said was that it would be an intimate ceremony for fifty people, during summer."

"Fifty people?" Jon paused petting his hair, something Leo was thankful for as shivers continued to go down his back and he felt uncomfortably warm, "do we even know fifty people?"

"I said fifteen," Leo pointed out, causing his future mother in law to huff.

"You boys clearly haven't thought this through at all," Jackie said, shaking her head fondly, "draft up a list of names, you'll see it's definitely not fifteen people."

"Yeah," Angie nodded, eager to be in Jackie's good graces, "when mamma threw me the graduation party we also thought it would be small, it was anything but."

Leo tugged on the neckline of his shirt, feeling like he was suffocating, "we'll do a list."

As if sensing his nervousness, Jonah squeezed his nape, leaning in to snatch the cold drink from his hand and taking a sip. This close, Leo could smell the perfume still clinging to his boyfriend's skin, as well as see how drenched in sweat Jon was. He wished his throat didn't feel so tight and his head a little woozy, so he could properly appreciate jockey Jon.

"Uhm... Where's- Where's the bathroom?" Leo felt like his mouth was suddenly very numb. Jon raised an eyebrow, but it was his step dad who answered.

"Just around the bar, up the stairwell-"

"I'll show you," Jon sprung up his feet and Leo nodded, more glad than his pinched face let on, taking the other man's hand to pull himself up.

"We'll be right back."

"Alright, then we can talk theme," Jackie nodded, blissfully unaware, something that Matteo wasn't, watching them with concerned eyes.

Leo felt dizzy, squeezing Jon's hand between his sweaty fingers and feeling like his legs were too heavy to move.

"What's wrong?" Jonah tugged him down the hallway, but not up the stairs and Leo shook his head, grabbing the rail.

"Bath-bathroom..." he struggled to say, pushing himself up a step, "Jon..."

"I got you," Jonah sighed, pouting and sliding an arm around his waist, "look, I know Jackie can be a lot, but fifteen people or fifty, it's not that big of a deal, is it?"

The bathroom wasn't empty, but the one guy that was inside it left as soon as they entered and Leo braced heavily against the concrete sink. He took a shuddering breath, his throat squeezing and his stomach revolting with panic and just sheer nausea.

Jonah was speaking still and he couldn't hear a word.

Suddenly cold water was splashing on his face and Leo startled, catching Jon's eyes in the mirror as the man tried to snap him out of what he thought was a panic attack.

He was partially right.

"Leo?" Jon's tone was much more concerned than it had been on the stairwell, "baby, if talking about the wedding is stressing you this much-"

"Shut up," Leo shook his head, breathing heavily and bending at the waist, "not- Not that..." his belly squeezed and he gagged, but nothing came up. His mouth was so sweet, a shiver of revulsion ran down his back.

"Shit," Jonah whispered, planting a hand on his back, "you're gonna vomit?"

"I feel... really queasy," Leo admitted, clutching the granite for dear life and nodding as an answer.

"This isn't just nerves, is it?" Jonah carefully planted a cold hand against his forehead, pushing Leo's hair back and causing the blonde to slump against his touch.

"No... Feel really really wei-" he never finished that sentence, as his stomach squeezed once more and Leo nearly smacked his head against the mirror as a jet of foamy white puke fell in the sink. He gasped for air, letting out a whimper, and Jonah thumped on his back, causing more vomit to fall in the bowl.

Leo panted, swaying on his feet, "Jonah... Something isn't- Isn't right..."

"Yeah, I can see that," Jonah snapped briskly, but worry was coloring his words, "talk to me, you just got nauseous out of nowhere...?"

"Can't- can't breathe..." Leo turned away from the sink, wheezing and planting a hand on his chest, "Jon-"

Jonah's hands were suddenly on his neck, tilting his head up to clear his airways, fully focused on the task at hand, "through your nose, Leo..."

He greedily inhaled, shaking his head as the whole room blurred over, "some-something'swrong-"

Leo stumbled and nearly fell, Jonah's arms closing around his chest and keeping him from going down. There were black spots appearing in his vision and he was wheezing.

Suddenly he was lying flat on the bathroom floor, with Jonah's stepdad kneeling by his hip... He frowned, only then realizing his head was on Jon's lap, when he tried to move, heart hammering in his ear.

"Don't," Jonah planted a hand on his chest, "ambulance is almost here."

Leo tried to shake his head to say he didn't need an ambulance, but when he did, the whole room twirled around him. He could feel Jon squeezing his arm, saying something else...

"Une allergie à l'ananas?"

"Oui, il a eu de la chance d'être arrivé à l'hôpital à temps. Nous le garderons jusqu'à la nuit au cas où" a different voice answered and Leo groaned, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them, he was in a much brighter room, his head throbbing.

Jonah was standing not far from him, arms crossed and looking pissed, while Matteo was right next to his step son.

"Jonah, calme-toi..."

"Je n'arrive pas à me calmer, il a failli mourir!" Jonah scoffed, turning to glare at the older man, only for his frown to clear up as he saw Leo's bleary eyes open, "Leo!"

"Uhm... Je ne parle france..?" He tried saying, his words coming up scratchy and Jon let out a small, hysterical and watery giggle, while Matteo chuckled at that.

"Français", the older man corrected, patting Jonah's arm, "Je serai dehors avec ta mère"

"Oui, merci, papa", Jonah nodded, then walked closer to the recliner Leo was lying on, "how are you?"

"Woozy..." Leo turned his head, "my stomach's sore, scratchy throat... What happened?"

"Turns out you're allergic to pineapples," Jonah sighed, "and decided to chug two piña coladas."

"I wasn't- I'm not..." Leo frowned, forcing himself to sit up correctly, "I wasn't aware those were piña coladas, I never had them..."

Jon's soft expression suddenly shifted, brows meeting into an angry frown "you knew you were allergic!? And you never told me!?"

"It's not that big of a deal!" Leo cried out, flinching away from his fiancé, "it was never like this, just made me a bit queasy-"

"I thought you were dying!" Jon exclaimed, getting up and pacing. They weren't in a private room in the hospital, but the floor was mostly empty. Leo couldn't make much sense of it, given everything was written in French thanks to their location in Switzerland, but he could overhear people talking in English.

He sighed, curling up on the chair, "Jon... Jonah, angel, sit down. I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm sorry," he looked up at his boyfriend, who was angrily chewing on his lip and had his arms crossed again.

Jonah stopped walking, "they said it wasn't anaphylactic shock," he admitted after a second, "the trouble breathing was probably due to a panic attack, your throat wasn't swollen."

"Ah... See, I told you-" Leo started to say, only to stop himself short as Jon scoffed and glared at him, "can you please sit with me?"

Jonah hesitated for a second, before relenting and sitting down next to Leo, "I need your entire medical record," he mumbled, sounding frustrated and taking the blonde's hand in his, causing Leo to blush, "at least it scared my mom enough she shut up about the wedding."

"She wasn't that bad," Leo leaned back, closing his eyes and still feeling a bit woozy and queasy, "you're her only child, Jon. She only wants to spoil you rotten."

"I'm not a kid," he could hear his boyfriend eye rolling, then Leo let out a pleased sigh as he felt Jonah starting to pet his hair, "get some rest."

"Hmmm," Leo turned slightly on his side, so he could kiss the inside of Jonah's wrist, "would it even be a trip without me throwing up and worrying you?"

His fiancé let out a little snort, moving closer so he was almost draping himself over Leo, "yeah yeah, that's enough for the rest of the trip, though. It's like someone put you in this world to stress me."

"To make your life exciting," Leo cleared up with a yawn

[tomato-sickfics]

Seeing him in less than two weeks and he just randomly said “I can’t wait to hear your little tummy rumble again” after I accidentally burped on camera

Like sir idk if you meant it in a kinky way or what but I WISH I had that kind of bravery

[tomato-sickfics]

@lisupandowntown wanted an update so….

He didn’t get sick, but he gave me plenty of details. He texted me to let me know he was heading home early because when he stood up to work his stomach was killing him and he almost threw up in his mouth. Then during his drive he pulled over and told me he was lightheaded and his mouth was feeling like he was going to throw up. He bought some medicine and finished the drive home. He FaceTimed me all curled up in a hoodie and looking absolutely miserable and nauseous. He kept tossing and turning while we talked and said “I need a tummy rub” and “I don’t feel so good” before pulling his blanket up to his face. I could see how nauseous he was. He fell asleep for a while on call and woke up still feeling sick. I told him he should eat something and he said he really didn’t want to because he was still uncertain if he was going to throw up or not. Later that night he had to lay on the hard floor instead of his bed just to get to sleep.

This morning he said he was feeling a bit better when he woke up but started feeling worse again when he drove to work. Then he just texted me saying he’s had a headache all day but his stomach is feeling a lot better.

So it seems like he successfully fought off the bug. The depraved part of me kinda wanted him to get sick but the good girlfriend in me is happy he’s feeling better.

Edit: in his words tonight, “the tummy ache is gone but the headache is worse.”

Bfs family had the stomach bug this weekend when he was visiting and he just texted me saying his stomach is churning and nauseous and he has a headache

I wish I could be normal about these things 😭

[tomato-sickfics]

Bfs family had the stomach bug this weekend when he was visiting and he just texted me saying his stomach is churning and nauseous and he has a headache

I wish I could be normal about these things 😭