Fingers twist firm into the worn white fabric, bunching between the digits. The trembling mess of a man said fingers belonged to, could only curl fuether in on himself, body writhing and trembling with pain as he felt like he was being ripped inside out.
A voice barely regesters in the blondes ears, enough to grate on his nerves, but not enough to process. All he can do is snarl, head tilting back in response. Behind him, in front of the couch, stood Ex, arms crossed and brows furrowed, looking down at Wels worried.
"Wels, are you good?" The question leaving the albinos lips was rhetorical, rather than genuine. It was asked more to see if Wels could still process it, rather than to gauge a response.
"The fuck does it- look like-" Venom quickly dries into pained winces and higher pitched whines as the blonde tries not to show weakness, only to fail miserably.
Theres a second of pause, and as Ex goes to speak, loud retching followed by the sound of liquid against plastic meets his ears.
The snow-haired man cringes slightly in response to the noise, watching the way his blonde husbands head leans over the bucket, before hanging defeated. Thankfully Wels didn't have long hair.
After a moment, Wels manages to force his body weight back up, amd throws himself back onto the couch, arms hugged tightly around his stomach as his head hits the pillows set up for him like a ragdoll.
It was one of those days.
The sound doesn't go unnoticed, head peering into the room as Ex glances over, eyes meeting the burnt umber of the man checking in.
It doesn't take an expert to tell whats going on. And it certainly doesn't take the man long to see his blue eyed lover curled in on himself pathetically, trembling in agony.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?"
Wels wishes he could retch again at the question, just to prove a point.
As the man walks closer, Wels glares up, blue meeting the umber of the man approaching.
"Im going to throw up on you." Its spat like a threat.
Hes met with a warm smile. "I really wouldn't mind."
It takes all of thirty seconds to have Sausage situated on the couch, the blondes head in his lap as he gently readjustes Wels pillow for him, before situating the sickly man's head on it.
A soft mumble leaves Wels lips, but he cant even complain, feeling the way Sausages warmth seems to elevate the tension, even if only slightly. He doesn't miss the way Ex sits on the coffee table, either. Man keeping a close eye on him as he returns the now clean bucket to the edge of the couch. Ready for Wels to inevitably throw up in again.
Normally, Wels would scratch and yell and bare his teeth, wanting to be left alone when his condition was this bad. But right now, the calm, quiet, gentle nature of it all seemed to put his mind at ease. Even if only a little.
"Woah, Jesus wels are you, like.. good?"
Wels doesn't know how much louder he can groan, irritated by the question already, knowing hed have to hear it at least ten more times today.
"Fuck..! No, alright! Im not!" He hissed, voice trying to growl but left caught in his throat by the pain.
Arms weakly throw out, gesturing vaguely at nothing as Jevin walks over, leaning his weight against the arm of the couch.
"Im stuck inside- and i couldn't- ngh- g-go to work today- be.. Because f-fucking- Impulse-" the blonde cuts himself off, wincing harshly as his body involuntarily curls up, responding to the sharp pain stabbing through his lower abdomen like blades.
As if the mere mention had summoned him, a firm hand rested atop Wels' palm, placing pain killers and muscle relaxants with them.
The blonde tilted his head back to glare, only met with a soft, exasperated huff from the larger man as Impulse pulled his hand back.
"Take those, you should start to feel better in about an hour."
"F-Fuck you.."
"Not like that your not."
Wels can only sharpen his glare at the man, watching the way Impulse's eyes soften with a gentle sense of care and genuine compassion for his doll, worried about Wels wellbeing.
All wels can do, is watch as Impulse gathers things, and sets them up for him. All the way down to getting a big soft cozy blanket for Wels to hide himself and cocoon in.
"I'll be back in an hour, take care of him for me, you three." The tone Impulse speaks with is almost strained. A mix of not wanting to leave Wels, and knowing he has to to get everything the man needs. Something he had to choose, over staying with one of his dolls to keep them company.
The three men nod, ignoring the weakened spit of Wels defeated, defiant "fuck you.." clearly having given up as the blonde buries deeper into the soft comfort of his hisbands lap and the warm blanket.
It was nice, to be cared for and kept safe. To be held and loved and comforted during a time when he was the most vulnerable, like a wounded predator seeking comfort.
Gentle fingers run through his hair as the medication begins to work. Not enough to stop the pain, but enough to numb it till he could finally sleep, hoping to wake to his flare having passed.
