Larry Sickfics :)

Celiac - Louis

vomit warning and slight smut, but not really. idk haha

Music blared as Harry continued to drunkenly grind on Louis under the flashing lights. The band was out clubbing after a week of shows and interviews; they were here to get absolutely wasted.

"LOU! YOU'RE SO HOT!" Harry yelled over all of the noise. "I WANNA SUCK ON YOUR FACE TIL WE BOTH PASS OUT!" Louis chuckled as Harry slurred his heart's desires.

"WHAT HAVE YOU HAD TO DRINK?" Louis had to ask — Harry had a few drinks with Niall at some point.

"SOME SHOTS AND SOMETHING FUITY! I'LL BET I TASTE GOOD!" he winked cheekily.

Louis couldn't help the burst of giggle from his alcohol-drenched mouth. "OKAY, BABY. BUT LETS GO SOMEWHERE MORE QUIET..." He grasped Harry's hand and led him away towards the private rooms. Upon entering the secluded hallway, Louis tugged Harry inside the first vacant room, shutting and locking the door behind them. "Mmm... that's better," Louis mumbled as he and Harry sank down onto the made bed. "Are you sure you didn't have any beer tonight, babe?" Louis had to double check.

Harry shook his head innocently, digging through his hazy memory as he did so. "Nope," he smiled through his inebriation.

Louis pressed Harry against the headboard, cradling his jaw in his hands. He slid his fingers back into Harry's hair before closing the gap between their faces. They kissed gently at first, soft breaths and gentle pressure, before growing more hungry for each other. Louis gently teased his tongue along Harry's lip, encouraging him to open his mouth. Harry's kisses danced along with Louis teasing before they began full-on making out.

The air grew thick with lust and sweat, alcohol dripping out of their pores. They carried on for about fifteen minutes before Louis pulled away to observe his lover. The room still tipped side to side around him, his mind doused in alcohol.

"God, your beautiful. I love you so much," Louis' intoxicated self grew emotional. A single tear of adoration rolled down his right cheek.

"Oh, Lou, don't cryyyy," Harry drawled, a gentle smile playing across his lips. "Mmm, back to making out I think." He pulled Louis back into him before resuming their activities.

***

The two rascals had been in the private room for about twenty minutes total before deciding they wanted to get home to continue in the direction which their activities were taking them. Harry hailed a cab while Louis texted the rest of the boys that they left. The ride was only about five minutes but Louis couldn't help stealing a kiss or two from Harry.

They danced in the back of the cab, giggling and singing (more like screaming) along with the radio rather poorly. When they arrived at their hotel, Louis and Harry both handed a wad of cash to the driver before stumbling out of the vehicle towards the building. They didn't seem to notice the driver trying to give them their change.

They reached their room and picked up right where they left off — eating each other's faces. Louis stomach flipped excitedly while Harry tugged at his waistband. Louis complied and helped Harry undress as well. The two men almost never disconnected their mouths. 

Louis laid Harry down on his back before gently leaving a trail of kisses down to his hips. His stomach started stirring more violently; alcohol and tension dancing together inside of him. He had never been so fluttery to have sex with Harry.

He trailed back up to Harry's face, leaving little bites along his neck and jaw. He connected his lips to Harry once again, moving in perfect tandem together.

They laid there, kissing each other naked for a few minutes, Louis' stomach flipping and turning all the while. He realized that maybe it wasn't excitement, but he was too wasted to really put together what was happening.

He suddenly felt hot, a layer of sweat erupting all over his tingling skin. He hardly registered the acidic taste creeping up his throat before he suddenly lurched to his side with a gag. Harry sobered up a bit and slid out from underneath him. Louis barely missed Harry as a second gag sent up a small round of vomit.

He inhaled too quickly and choked a bit on his own spit. Harry was now sitting up, trying to help Louis into a position where he could breathe easier. Louis continued to sputter and choke as another heave tried to send up more from his stomach.

"Lou, baby, what happened? Do you think you drank too much?" Harry was rubbing up and down Louis' back to help comfort him as best he could. He was feeling rather helpless as Louis continued to heave.

Harry decided that it seemed Louis wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, so he slid off the bed and grabbed the wastebasket in the corner of their room. He held it under Louis' vomit-covered chin and sat on the bed. He continued rubbing the young man's back while he threw up over and over again.

"Shit, Lou... What's got you so sick?" Harry pondered once Louis was able to catch his breath a little. He brought his hand to feel tenderly around Louis's face and neck. "You're not warm. Did you eat something bad? Something new?"

"M'not sick. Feels... feels like," he broke off with a hiccup, leaning over the bin expectantly. Nothing happened, so he relaxed after a moment. "S'a flare-up I think..." he mumbled rather dejectedly.

Harry sat in guilty, drunk silence; he's not really sure why he feels so guilty. "I'm sorry you feel so bad, boobear." They both stayed quiet for a few seconds. "Let's get you cleaned up, and change the sheets before the next round, yeah?" Harry suggested.

"Yeah... That sounds good."

***

Harry made quick work of changing the sheets and remaking the bed while Louis showered. All the while, both of them were thinking hard about what Louis could be having a reaction to.

Louis, still nauseous and getting more so, wasn't able to think of anything he'd eaten that had gluten in it. Harry was becoming more and more sober by the minute, drinking water as often as he could while cleaning their bedroom. Finally it hit him; the gut-wrenching guilt exponentially higher than earlier.

He'd done this. When he went to go have some shots with Niall, the Irishman convinced him to have a pint, too. He was so far gone by then that he'd nearly forgotten at all. Louis had even asked him if he drank beer, just to check.

It was Harry's turn to feel horribly sick for a moment. He couldn't handle the fact that he was the reason Louis was in so much pain, and going to be for at least the night (if not longer). It was somewhat perfect timing that he was about to change the lining of the wastebasket. Harry just held the bin up to himself and threw up a few times.

Part of it was the alcohol; part of it was the water he'd chugged; but mostly it was the guilt. After a few minutes, the poor young man with the curly hair and bright green eyes was merely crying. He let himself have a few moments to feel awful before he dried his eyes and finished what he was doing.

Harry brought a fresh change of clothes to Louis, who was finally finishing up with his leisurely shower. The leisure provided next to none in the way of comfort, though. By the time he was dressed, Louis was nearly falling over the toilet.

Harry started to cry again, silently letting guilty tears roll down his cheeks. He waited until Louis was done with that round of puking before confessing.

"L-Lou, I'm so s-sorry," Harry sobbed. "It's my f-fault. I forg-got. Niall and I-I had a pint b-but I couldn't remememb-ber..." He trailed off into wailing sobs, clearly still a little drunk and very, very tired.

"Haz, it'll be okay. I know you didn't mean to and accidents happen," Louis replied calmly. "All I can ask for now is that you help take care of me, which you already are." He turned around to face Harry, feeling okay at the moment. Louis wiped Harry's face dry of his tears and brought him closer. Harry closed the gap with a small kiss, completely disregarding the fact that Louis tasted slightly of vomit.

***

The night was spent mostly in the bathroom, but by midday the following day, Louis seemed to be doing alright. He ate some plain rice and drank some water as well as tea. By the evening, he was feeling almost well enough to be upset with Harry, but he just couldn't. It was a drunken mistake, and really it wasn't as bad of a flare-up as it could have been.

Harry was having trouble forgiving himself. He waited on Louis, hand and foot. He hardly let him get up to go to the toilet on his own. He knew it was annoying but the poor lad couldn't help how awful he felt.