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(not) sick

Summary:

Adachi is sick, but refuses to admit it. When his body betrays him, he is surprised to find Dojima fully willing to care for him.

Prompt 2: hurt/comfort

Notes:

I've just finished watching a Let's Play of this game and I fucking loved it. My favourite character is Adachi, and I love his personality, but especially how he acted up until the ending. This fic is set in an AU where nothing bad happened and Adachi, whilst screwed up, is a nice guy.
Also, the reason this guy became my favourite? He was puking when he was introduced. That's all my sickness-obsessed brain needed to latch onto this bastard!
Anyway, enjoy the sickness!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Adachi’s stomach won’t stop gurgling. At first, it was vaguely amusing, but now it’s just pissing him off. It bubbles and gurgles under his skin, only getting louder if he presses down on his stomach in an attempt to release the pressure. Add that to the nausea he woke up with and won’t fuck off, Adachi is in a very bad mood.

But he is at Dojima-san’s house right now, which means spending time with Nanako. And as much as he wants to rant and swear and complain, he can’t act like that in front of Nanako-chan. So despite the discomfort that only gets worse when he forces down a plate of sushi with Dojima, Nanako and Yu, Adachi hunches forwards under the low table and tries to pretend razors of pain aren’t currently ripping his guts to shreds.

But, shit, it feels awful. Adachi rarely enjoys life (severe depression and bitterness towards people who have it better than him tend to do that to him; he’s been working on being less of an asshole ever since he met Dojima-san, but it’s hard to not snap and complain and glare at people who have it easier than him), but he totally fucking hates it on days like today.

“Adachi-san, are you okay?” Nanako asks, and he realises he was grimacing.

“Oh, no, I’m fine, Nanako-chan,” he says, forcing a grin.

The intuitive kid doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press the subject.

He manages to get away with it until his stomach gurgles again. This time, pain cramps in his abdomen, the gurgles loud enough for the others to hear. Yu frowns, confused, whilst Nanako gasps.

“Adachi-san, is your tummy okay?” Nanako asks.

Dojima stares at him, that gaze of him burning into Adachi. He can never keep things from Dojima-san for very long, always ending up blurting things out (like his low mood or how he’s jealous of someone or that time he was blind drunk and kind of confessed his feelings for Dojima but now’s not the time to think about that embarrassing experience). And whilst he knows talking is better for his mental health, he really, really doesn’t want to bring this up.

“Oh, well, it’s been a bit… off today,” he says, doing his best to not wince at the cramps that keep stabbing him.

“You sure about that?” Dojima says.

Adachi avoids looking at his boss (and boyfriend, but, again, not thinking about that), staring down at his plate. All that sushi sits heavy in his aching stomach, the pressure getting worse. Adachi brings a fist up to his mouth and tries to belch, but instead finds stomach acid burning his throat. Oh crap.

“Adachi-san?” Nanako whispers.

He swallows hard, able to focus on nothing but the churning deep inside him, his stomach burning and his guts bubbling and bubbling. It’s just getting worse. When will it stop?

Adachi forces himself to smile, but it’s even more forced this time. “Oh, I’m okay. Think I just ate too much, hahaha…”

“Yeah, right,” Dojima says. “Adachi, are you sick or something?”

“Sick? Course not,” he says, nausea rolling through him. “Ugh…” he groans, letting out the sound despite his best efforts.

“Poor Adachi-san,” Nanako says. “I hate being sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Adachi snaps, instantly regretting it. He sighs, pain rumbling through his guts again and again. “Sorry.”

Dojima won’t stop staring at him. “Yeah, sounds like BS to me.”

He wants to argue, to snap and yell and start an argument just to feel something other than pain, but his body betrays him. Adachi retches, vomit rising in his throat. He swallows, his throat burning, but it happens again, and he clamps his hand over his mouth just in time for his mouth to fill with vomit.

“Shit!” Dojima says, too concerned to remember not to swear in front of Nanako. “Bathroom. Now.”

As Adachi tries to get to his feet, Dojima grabs him by his arm and hauls him upright, slinging his arm his shoulders just like Adachi does when he drags a drunk Dojima home. Adachi heaves again, vomit filling his mouth again and feeling hot and sticky and disgusting against his hand.

“Come on…” Dojima says, hauling Adachi through the house. He kicks open the bathroom door and steers Adachi inside, keeping a tight grip on Adachi’s arm when his legs give way. “Careful.”

Adachi drops to his knees, grabs the toilet seat with his free hand… and pukes. It’s disgusting and it hurts and it just won’t stop, heaving so hard he pulls muscles and his eyes water, the smell making his nausea even worse. Vomit splatters into the toilet bowl, Adachi’s whole body trembling with effort. In between waves of puking, he gasps and shudders and slumps against the toilet, spitting out foul tasting saliva.

And, the entire time, Dojima stays stood behind him, a hand rubbing Adachi’s back. Nobody has done anything like this since he was a kid, and he forgot how… comforting it feels to have a soothing hand on your back while puking your guts up.

“It’s okay,” Dojima murmurs, and Adachi finds it odd for such soft words to come from Dojima’s gruff throat. He must sound like this when soothing Nanako. “Just get it all up.”

But as Adachi vomits, he realises something: the nausea is gradually fading, but the bubbling in his abdomen isn’t. And as he retches, a sharp, stabbing cramp rips through his guts below his bellybutton, and Adachi comes to a horrible realisation.

He’s got an upset stomach. And if he doesn’t use the bathroom right this second, he’s going to shit himself.

“Dojima-san…” he gasps, voice hoarse from throwing up.

“It’s okay, Adachi.”

“No, I… my stomach…” He mumbles uninteligable things, the pain making his voice come out shaky.

“Adachi?”

The cramps and bubbling move lower and lower, pain stabbing him in his lower back. Adachi gasps and swears – and he doesn’t have any more time to explain.

Despite the humiliation it causes, Adachi lurches to his feet, fumbles with his belt and waistband, and tugs his pants down his thighs. He drops onto the toilet with Dojima still stood there, and only seconds later…

“Fuck!” he gasps in agony. Watery diarrhoea sprays out of him, burning on its way out as the cramps get worse and worse. Adachi retches and vomits onto his bare legs, getting his tie coveed in puke. “Fuck…”

And whilst Adachi pukes and shits right in front of him, Dojima… leaves.

Of course he left. Why would anyone want to see this?

Now Dojima will hate him and dump him, and everything will be ruined again. Why would anyone want to be with a pathetic waste of space like Tohru Adachi?

Adachi groans and swears and gasps, his bowels cramping as his stomach lurches and more vomit spills from his mouth. This is humiliating.

“Here, use this.”

Adachi flinches, looking up. Dojima stands in front of him, holding out a large bowl. Dojima… came back.

“It’s the Sick Bowl. Throw up in here instead.”

He pushes the bowl into Adachi’s soiled, shaking hands, and Adachi presses it to his chest.

He looks up at Dojima, covered in his own vomit and letting out the most disgusting farts as his bowels continue to spasm, and just… stares.

“Why’d… you come back?”

“I just left to get you the bowl, you idiot,” Dojima says. “You’re sick. I need to stay with you.”

Adachi retches and pukes into the bowl, the bowl Dojima gave him.

He just can’t believe it. Dojima… willingly stayed despite the disgusting, humiliating situation just to… care for him?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dojima says, putting a hand on the back of Adachi’s neck and rubbing gently.

Spitting into the bowl, Adachi stares up at him. “H-How?”

“I just do. I know you think everyone in the world hates you, Tohru” – he never calls him Tohru – “but that’s not true. And no matter how better other people’s lives are going, you’ve always got people by your side. It’s okay to depend on me. You’re clearly sick, and I’m gonna look after you if you like it or not.”

Adachi lets out a weak chuckle, managing to relax a little when the cramps ease up for a few seconds. “Just like D-Dojima-san. Always bossing m-me around.”

“Only cos you’re always slacking off,” Dojima says, grinning.

“I only – fuck!” He cuts himself off with a groan of pain, stomach cramping again. “Shit, I feel awful. Dojima-san… thank you.”

“It’s nothing. When your stomach’s calmed down, let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I think you better stay the night.”

Normally, those words imply something sexual, but not today. Dojima’s words are full of sympathy, and Adachi is once again reminded that people are supposed to support each other.

“Th-Thanks,” he groans, gulping.

He may feel totally fucking awful, but… he doesn’t have to deal with this alone. He has Dojima-san by his side – and, as Dojima repeatedly tells him, it’s okay to rely on others.

It’s okay to need help sometimes.

Notes:

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