Larry sick fics

Louis stomach bug

Louis was not entirely sure what woke him in the middle of the night. He blinked groggily in the darkness, his head muddled with sleep and something else he couldn't quite identify.

He decided he would go back to sleep. Maybe he'd reached the end of a dream. Closing his eyes, he snuggled back down into the sheets, pulling the blankets down off his shoulders because he was beginning to feel a little warm. He started to yawn, hoping that sleep would reclaim him quickly.

But he felt the muscles in his stomach clench and the tail end of his yawn tapered off into a nauseous belch. He had only seconds to comprehend what was happening before he clamped a hand over his mouth, heaving.

He scrambled out of bed, retching into his palm. Sick seeped out from between his fingers, spilling down his chin and onto his bare chest.

His cheeks bulged with another preparatory heave, and he coughed up another stream of vomit onto the bedroom carpet, staggering down the wall toward the bathroom.

The trip down the hallway had never before seemed so far away. Each step sent Louis' stomach into his throat, leaving a trail of sick in his wake. He was practically covered in it, and he hardly had the mind to consider the mess he made along the way.

After what felt like eternity, Louis finally made it down to the bathroom. He didn't bother with the light switch, merely leaning forward over the sink to cough and gag, tendrils of saliva clinging to his chin.

There were soft, padded footsteps coming toward him from the bedroom. Louis could picture Harry stumbling down the hallway, sleepily rubbing his eyes while he searched for his boyfriend. Louis hoped Harry didn't happen upon any of the puddles of sick along the way.

"Louis?"

A callused hand rested on his back, like ice on his skin, and Louis gasped. The sudden inhalation of air morphed into a wet, though so far unproductive belch.

Light flooded the bathroom and Louis groaned, shutting his eyes.

"Oh my god, Louis," Harry exclaimed. He was at a loss for words after that, simply staring, his hand still resting on Louis' back.

Louis' skin was warm, not alarmingly so, but feverish all the same. He was pale, paler than Harry had ever seen him before and that was scary.

Harry's eyes strayed to the sink, where he saw ribbons of spit mingled with vomit. It didn't look like Louis had been sick at all, but judging from the mess that covered his entire front, Harry estimated that his boyfriend had already been violently ill. Through the light seeping into the hallway, Harry finally noticed the destruction Louis had left in his wake.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, rubbing Louis' back. "It looks like you've got yourself a pretty nasty stomach bug."

Louis leaned forward over the sink, seeming to double over on himself as his stomach cramped. He let out a low, pained whine.

Harry made a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat. He knew Louis had to feel absolutely miserable. "Do you think you're finished?"

Louis shook his head and hiccuped. His mouth hung open and his shoulders tensed as he prepared himself for the next round.

"Okay, okay," Harry said. He meant to sound reassuring, all the while doing his best to try not to panic. Louis needed him to be comforting and proactive. "Let's get you down in front of the toilet."

They weren't fast enough. Harry was just putting the lid up on he toilet seat when Louis' stomach rebelled again, a wave of viscous liquid pouring forth from his mouth, splattering against the rim of the toilet and the floor. Very little actually made it into the water.

Louis coughed, trying to breathe, and Harry carefully helped him kneel in front of the toilet. He was shaking with fever, exhaustion, and exertion, and he retched again, bringing up another mouthful.

Harry could only sit there, watching and waiting; rubbing Louis' back and whispering soothing words of comfort as he prepared himself for the long night ahead.

Sorry it's a short one, i've ran out of ideas so if you have any prompts feel free to send them in! x