someone who's really, really backed up down there, who's all bloated and achy with a distended waistband, and they haven't felt all that great for a few days, and then they wake up one morning feeling nauseous and bubbly with their tummy rumbling and gurgling especially angrily. they aren't that hungry and don't feel very good all day, even moreso than when they usually get constipated, and everything is a bit more sensitive than usual-- eating a full lunch makes their guts grumble and churn unhappily, their head hurts and they shiver.
on the train home they start to feel truly ill. as it rounds a corner to the right, their full belly moans and sloshes to the right. as it curves to the left, they let out a wet burp and try to surreptitiously pat the unhappy mass of their distended belly as the contents slosh to the other side, and then they let out a small, whining fart as their guts shift. it jerks to a stop and their whole system bubbles and shudders and groans. they look a little pale and greenish in their reflection. they burp and fart again, a little louder this time, although they still are trying to be surreptitious, and again they try to rub their belly to soothe it, but it's even more upset and they feel more motion sick than before.
they sit miserably feeling their belly moan and churn in time with the train until it comes to their stop, and they carefully stumble out, letting out a couple farts with their footsteps. they feel like they're waddling a little with how much is inside them, like a slow, heavy blimp, and when they get home they decline to eat dinner and instead huddle in bed with a heating pad laid over the massive curve of their stomach-- now it feels like its churning without them even being on a train. they burp and rub it gently in the dark, feeling sick, then slowly nod off to sleep.
when their partner comes to bed, their belly is churning and moaning so loudly that their partner reaches over a hand and rubs it gently; its so distended that the sickie's button up pajama shirt is straining to keep it in under the heating pad. they carefully rub it from the belly button down, and feel their partner's guts shift angrily and bubble. a sickly burp comes from their partner's mouth-- they truly do look greenish.
"Harder," moans the sickie. their partner didn't realize they were awake. "oohh... I don't feel so good..."
their partner rubs in a clockwise motion, moving the heating pad and unbuttoning the straining buttons from their shirt. their whole guts bubble and churn and shutter under their fingertips. a fart eases its way out of the sickie, alongside several burps; then, their partner presses lightly on the shuddering, aching mass, right by their belly button.
the sickie sits straight up, eyes wide, and projectile vomits up a violent torrent of puke all over the blankets; then, they pull back the covers and throw their legs over the side of the bed, and when they stand they let out a long, wet fart as diarrhea thats been churning in them for days starts charging for the exit. they slap one hand over their bulging cheeks and sprint to the bathroom, but don't get there in time and puke violently in the hall, and with another loud, wet fart their stomach starts to erupt from the other end into their underwear. they keep running, another heave coming quick, and this time make it to the toilet and yank down their soiled pants and grab the wastebasket. then, their whole body heaves, and they explode from both ends, a violent waterfall of projectile vomit hitting the trashcan and a bubbling spew of diarrhea hitting the toilet. their stomach and intestines roar and churn and their body heaves again, and again, bubbling and farting and burping angrily, and the sickie only has time to moan softly and grip their cramping stomach before another tensing, full-body barrage makes them pitch forward into the wastebasket again, their intestines exploding from the other end. their partner rubs their back and coos and feels their muscles tense for another violent, angry deluge, and they moan again and cough and burp miserably.
"...Ohh god..." they say, gagging again, "Ohh... I think I've...uuurrpp... I think I've got the stomach flu or...uuuppuhh... some kind of bug..."
their partner nods. they dry heave and fart and their stomach moans and bubbles again, and then the dry heave turns into another vicious heave and another wave of vomit comes out, and eventually it goes into a dribble. the sickie clutches their belly and groans as it sloshes and churns like a washing machine.
their partner cleans up the mess as they sit moaning softly on the toilet for another half an hour, occasionally leaking a little more from each end; then they help them into the shower. their poor tummy is wrung out, but somewhat deflated, although still churning and popping angrily; they shuffle back to bed in fresh pajamas with a lined bowl to puke in, anticipating another mad rush to the bathroom for their intestines. the virus is raging inside of them now where it had been simmering for three days, and now that it's in full swing it's going to be a long night indeed.
