Work Text:
It was always a terrible idea for Alexi to eat before bed, and this has been proven countless times, still the boy never learns his lesson.
It was just after midnight, and about the tenth time that Alexi changed sleeping positions, when he realized that his stomach was not going to let him get some sleep. He envied Micah who was breathing deeply and slowly in his sleep. He tried to synch his breathing with the steady rise and fall of Micah’s chest, but it didn’t seem to work.
Alexi tucked his hands up his shirt and gently started to rub circles on his belly that was warm and swollen. He felt overly full and wishing that he hadn’t just stuffed his body with chips before going to sleep. Why did his brain equate sleepiness to hunger? The thought of resting his head against a cool pillow couldn’t detach itself from the craving for salty or sweet anything.
His boated stomach whined, struggling to digest the junk it had been fed when all it wanted to do was shut down for the night. Oh, how Alexi wished he could shut down for the night and curl up against Micah’s back, but the pressure in his gut was building. Every so often, Alexi sat up in the bed, leaning against the headboard, and just burped to release trapped gas. It felt like everything in his stomach was stacked up in his oesophagus and pushing against his throat, waiting for the next burp to send his late-night snack upwards.
Feeling his insides churn beneath his palm, Alexi groaned. He looked towards Micah, then to the clock that read 1:00am, then back to Micah. He made his decision to jostle his boyfriend awake when the next burp filled his mouth with acid. He swallowed the vile liquid, it burned on the way down, and shook Micah awake. With one hand pressed against his lips and the other hand nudging the sleeping form next to him, Alexi prayed that Micah wasn’t too deep in his rest.
Micah rose from, thankfully, a shallow sleep and propped himself up on his elbows. He looked down at Alexi whose eyes were squeezed together and whose breathing was erratic.
“Lexi? What’s the matter?” he asked, turning on his phone to get a bit more light.
Alexi’s face was contorted in pain, the blankets around his legs were twisted up from his constant fidgeting, and his voice got caught in his throat along with what he felt like was his entire stomach. He abandoned trying to speak, and just searched for Micah’s hand beneath the blankets. Finding Micah’s warm hand, he intertwined their fingers and guided the other boy’s arm to his torso. Alexi pressed Micah’s flat palm against the taut skin of his stomach and exhaled.
The added weight of Micah’s hand against Alexi’s belly felt good, but his stomach was still bubbling beneath the surface of his skin.
“Oh babe,” Micah cooed, “that doesn’t feel good.”
Alexi moaned in pain and used Micah’s hand to push down on his middle which elicited a small burp. Clueing into what his boyfriend needed, Micah began massaging Alexi’s midriff. He continued to switch between using his palm and the pads of his fingers to rub soothing circles on the boy’s abdomen. It seemed to work for a little bit, but eventually Alexi was groaning in pain once more.
“Mmm, Micah…” he whined, “mon ventre…”
“I know, baby,” Micah muttered. He was actually surprised to have recognized that word to mean belly, but it was not the time to be rejoicing his French abilities. “Let me help you.” And so, Micah pushed deeper into Alexi’s body, hoping to get more air out his stomach.
A deep burp rattled Alexi’s chest and escaped past his lips. He sighed, feeling a little better, but then he felt a second burp making his way up his throat and this one came up wet. Again, Alexi had to swallow a splash of acid which only upset his stomach more. It seemed the more he tried to keep his stomach contents down, the sicker he felt, until his mouth was coated in bitter acid.
Alexi sat up and spoke with his hand over his mouth. “I don’t feel so good, Micah.” His voice was thick and muffled.
Before Micah could respond, Alexi’s stomach gurgled loudly. A second later, Alexi lurched forward and threw up all down his chest. Vomit spewed past his lips, ran down his chin, and landed in a puddle in his lap.
The scent was thick, and so was the puke that pooled on the covers in chunks. Micah couldn’t help gagging off to the side upon seeing the mixture of onion dip and potato chips drip down Alexi’s neck. It smelt awful. The puddle collecting in Alexi’s crotch was huge, but the poor boy wasn’t done.
The second wave of vomit immediately came up, leaving Alexi with no time to catch his breath. In the middle of his first heave, his body lurched again and sent up another batch of sick.
The gurgling retches coming from Alexi’s throat sounded terrible, and Micah hated just sitting there as he waited for it to be over. He did his best to pull back Alexi’s hair, but it was too late, and the curls had already been coated in chunks of puke.
The next thing that come out of Alexi’s mouth sounded like a mix between a sharp inhale and a sob. He made a small whimper and then let his head fall onto Micah’s shoulder.
Micah reached around Alexi’s body and squeezed his boyfriend closer. “Oh, Lex. Your belly really isn’t happy.”
“I’m sorry. This is so disgusting. I just felt so full and sick.”
“Calm down, love. Let’s first get you in the shower.”
“I’m really sorry, Micah.”
Micah started helping Alexi’s out of the bed, careful not to get any vomit on the floor. “Stop apologizing. Are you feeling any better?”
“A little…”
“Good. Now get in the shower.” Micah said, as he lifted Alexi’s shirt over his head, doing his best not to give Alexi a face full of puke.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shower!”