sickie is so nauseous. like, soooo nauseous. their stomach is killing them, they’re drooling, the whole nine yards. maybe they drank too much, or they’ve come down with a horrid stomach bug.
caretaker frowns, sighing.
“let me help.”
caretaker uses their ring and pinkie finger to help hold a plastic bag/bucket/trash can under sickie’s mouth, while their index and middle fingers track across their tongue and into the back of their throat..
“what’re ‘ou’ doin’?” sickie asks, voice muffled from the way caretaker’s fingers are stuffed in their mouth. Tears form in their eyes, and they cough when their fingers finally hit the back of their throat.
Heyo can I request a sick Kazuha with Heizou pushing on his stomach to help him throw up? :)
finally, i was able to get to this request! sorry it took me so long anon, i couldn't do much while my requests were closed. i wasn't planning on writing anything for h.eizou, he was a bit of a miss in design for, but his lines about k.azuha are cute so i had fun while writing also, this turned a lot more descriptive than i was planning, so be warned.
ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏɴɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴜsʜɪɴ
In which Heizou and Kazuha share a few drinks too many, and on the way home, Heizou finds out why Kazuha doesn't drink that often, i.e. Kazuha is weak to alcohol and prone to overeating.
A soft giggle escaped Kazuha's lips, one hand aimlessly floating in front of his mouth, trying to muffle the laughter threatening to burst out of him. He couldn't tell what had made him tickle, but with his mind racing as it was, the heat blazing off his cheeks, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling.
“What's so funny?” a familiar voice asked from below him, confusion blurring into a mocking tone, sounding like they were resisting the contagious noise. The ronin just shook his head, the motion making him feel like his eyes were spinning loosely inside his skull. “You're not going to tell me?”
Kazuha hummed stubbornly in response, his lips quivering as he tried to contain his laughter. Self-control was a long-forgotten skill of his that night. Just a few steps ahead and he was giggling to himself like a loon, like a small kid trying to keep a secret.
But the fact he was drunk out of his wits wasn't a secret to anyone, much less to the young detective stumbling home with him, serving as his legs for the trip.
Heizou held onto the giggly swordsman firmly, his back nearly folded to accommodate him over his shoulders, his arms interlocked around his neck. Despite carrying double his weight, he was still light on his step, concentrating all he had on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to be distracted by the soft-hitching breaths tickling his neck.
The doushin had his eyes set on Kazuha ever since he made it to every warning board in the form of a wanted poster, a runaway of the vision hunt decree, and a famed one at that. From the many rumors running wild, Heizou would've never imagined Kazuha could be this loose when he was drunk. The ronin was still giggling to himself, the sound now dotted by breathy hiccups, in sync with the drunken sway of Heizou's walk.
Still, he didn't regret inviting him to talk over drinks, even if Kazuha had overdone it by the end, the conversation they shared while he could still speak coherently had been inspiring. Heizou was already considering more ways to set that same atmosphere, he wanted to talk to him again, but the thought of inviting him so casually had butterflies sprouting inside his belly.
He couldn't see Kazuha's face the way he was holding him, but it had stuck to his memory, red as a blooming acer, and that sheepish smile as his eyes closed. It made his heart flutter. The smell of alcohol and grease was still clear in his breath, however. Both had overdone it, in fact Heizou counted an extra dozen cups of sake on his side of the table by the time they left.
The ronin stuck to savory dishes, arguing that heavier foods paired well with alcohol, so he was justified in indulging a bit, to the point where his bloated stomach was noticeable even under the loose fabrics of his haori. Heizou tried to be gentle while carrying him, but he could tell the man was uncomfortable by the tiny groans against his ear.
The drunken samurai's good humor had already subsided, but the stubborn hiccups could still be heard under his breath, sounding like bubbles brewing in the back of his throat. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to put some distance between his taut middle and Heizou's back. His stomach felt incredibly sensitive, any pressure on it had his throat already spasming, to the point where even his clothes brushing over it had him wanting to squirm away.
He had his eyes fixed on the ground since they left the restaurant, looking at anything else had the thumping in his head growing worse. He stuck to the same visual, unchanging like a film roll, it seemed to dull the pain for the time being.
His head and chest loosely bobbed in sync with the walking. That feeling, it was almost like he was aboard a ship being tossed by the waves, the deck rolling from side to side. He always got a feeling similar whenever he drank, but today, his stomach was packed full of the best Inazuma had to offer, and he could feel its mass trying to climb its way up his throat.
He only realized they had stopped moving when two small yet firm hands gripped his thighs from below, holding him in place. He tried moving slightly, but the grip on him made it hard to do anything. The rumors seemed to be true, but still, he wouldn't think the famous detective of the Tenryou commission had such strength hiding behind that small frame.
“Kazu, be still, you're going to slip like this”, he heard Heizou warn from under him, but his words reached him slowly. “Let me just… excuse me.”
Kazu noted the nickname but nothing else, a lazy grin stretching his lips as his head hung loose to the side. He was about to point it out when he felt the grip on his legs tighten and Heizou pulled him closer in one swift movement. His stomach slammed into his back, sending stars bursting behind his eyes and sending something further up his throat.
He couldn't close his mouth in time, but to his luck, all that had been dislodged was a massive bubble of air that suddenly burst over his tongue. Heizou instinctively flinched away, closing one of his eyes as the hot air rushed past his cheek. It sounded almost like thunder against his ear, but that could be the alcohol making things bigger than they seemed.
“—buuRrRRRRrpPpp!” Kazuha gave a long rumbling burp that seemed to echo across the empty street, a strong smell of grease and alcohol along with it, stinging his nostrils. It came from deep within his stomach, he could almost taste the many fried dishes one more time.
“Wow, haha”, Heizou mused, trying to take the situation in a more humorous way rather than the eager-to-please attitude he had adopted around him until the drinks came in. “That was… loud.”
“Ooh”, Kazuha let out a soft groan as relief washed over him, his shoulders relaxing once again. It felt like a little room had been freed inside his belly.
He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position that didn't disturb his stomach, preferably didn't touch it at all. Heizou was holding tightly to him, making it so he could barely breathe without pressing the curve of his belly onto his back.
“Sorry about that, I couldn't hold it in”, Kazuha murmured, his voice bordering on a chuckle. He eventually settled on resting his chest on Heizou's shoulder, arching over him to give his middle a little room. “You can keep going now...”
“Alright”, the detective agreed, resuming his wobbly walk, putting even more focus to balance the both of them in the middle of the cobblestone path. “And, it's fine”, he added, trying to walk it back. “I mean, you ate quite a lot, it's only fair.”
Kazuha tried not to pay attention, but he could feel the contents of his stomach being tossed each time Heizou stepped down, like that dense mass of food swimming in sake was breathing down his neck. His belly sloshed sickeningly, making him feel like a bottle of soda being agitated, its bubbles rising to the surface.
“I guess, but–” Kazuha had closed his mouth before another much smaller burp tried to escape. “–still, excuse me, guh–” he managed to swallow this time, the sound heavy, almost slimy.
“I really don't mind”, the detective added, looking away to the ground, embarrassment giving his voice an unusual held-back tone. He never thought he'd see this laid-back side of such a reserved person, but now that he had, it felt like too much all at once.
Kazuha slowly slid one arm out, resting a palm over his chest, it moved in sync with his steps. He didn't need to feel it to know his heart was thumping heavily, but it was a relief to know it was still there rather than inside his skull as he would've thought.
He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt a bubble of air rapidly travel up his esophagus, his chest jumping when it landed in the back of his throat, causing a few muffled hiccups. His stomach felt so sensitive from the volume, even a belch that would've been harmless had him dreading it.
“Mm— Uuuurrrppp!”, he gave a long close-mouthed belch that had his eyes stinging, all that noxious air escaping through his nostrils. That meant trouble for him, he could taste the start of nasty indigestion in the ghostly sulfuric burn it left on his tongue. “Ugh, yuck.”
“That doesn't sound too good now…”, Heizou commented with a nervous chuckle, but to his relief, Kazuha gave one back, his drunken good humor still there underneath the pained groans.
“Yeah, I don't– sorry, I don't usually eat that much”, he confessed, turning his head away when he felt another burp rising to his mouth. “–uurp! I think my belly is… ugh, having a little trouble digesting it all. And the alcohol on top of that...”
“Oh, was there something wrong with it?” Heizou felt his own stomach give an uncertain wobble at the thought. Food poisoning wasn't something he could afford now, he had so much to do, especially when he had already taken a night off his cases to go on this little escapade with the once-wanted ronin.
Kazuha didn't respond immediately, not to further the suspense but to fight against the threat of more burps making it out of him. His throat was uncomfortably tight, small spasms threatening to make him hiccup again. His face was pinched into a grimace as he endured the awful metallic taste of copper pennies washing over his tongue in waves.
“I don't think so…”, he finally said, his voice thick, more slurred. “Well, the truth is... I don't handle alcohol that well. I tried–”, he was cut off by a fleeting belch that barely lasted, but it was enough for him to take a pause, gulping down the saliva filling his mouth rapidly. “I'm sorry, I tried eating enough to make up for it, but–”
“It's okay! You didn't need to force yourself to drink, you know? I just wanted to talk, just wanted to be alone with–” Heizou cut him off, and immediately regretted it. He was running over his words, talking like he was out of breath, and blaming all of it on the sake. “Sorry, I…”
Kazuha had gone quiet in the meanwhile, nearly motionless except for his chest hitching slightly against Heizou's back, each aborted movement dotted by a hiccup he managed to swallow. He counted a few before the samurai plastered a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as his throat gave another spasm behind it.
“Hey, are you… okay?” Heizou asked, looking in his direction, but he couldn't see anything from where he was. “I've already said I don't mind, you don't have to hold it in.”
To that, Kazuha gave a weak, muffled whimper, shaking his head even if Heizou couldn't see it, he knew better than to open his mouth. With the constant movement, up and down, and his stomach following, tossing its contents into a disgusting stew, he knew that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from thoroughly covering Heizou in his puke.
“Mmmmm– uurrp!” Another burp slipped past him, and he was impressed how it still made a sound behind his hand, but that amusement was quickly subsided by the taste of rot overtaking his tongue. He wanted to gasp, but bile was already bubbling at the back of his throat. “H-Heizou…”, he mumbled, the urgency in his voice coming at a snail's pace. “I think I… n-need to vomit.”
“Oh…?”, he mouthed, slowing down, the words going right over his head. Then it hit him, and he stopped dead in his tracks, the movement doing Kazuha no favors. He could only whimper as a warning, feeling his stomach slosh inside of him, Heizou’s back compressing it once more. “O-Oh! Got it, wait a minute.”
The drunken ronin gave the only response he could, a faint gurgling sound at the back of his throat. A short hissing burp pried itself from his lips, only short because he was able to contain some of it, but not the dribble of drool that coated the side of his chin. His mouth was rapidly filling with saliva and suddenly he couldn't will himself to swallow any of it.
Heizou briefly looked around the street. In the dead of night and with alcohol clouding his senses he wasn’t as quick to rule out the possibilities, it took a wet-sounding hiccup over his shoulder for him to quickly single in an empty passageway between two shops and make a beeline for it. Kazuha definitely didn’t appreciate the hastiness of his movements, he found his grip on his shirt, pulling it like the bridle of a horse to slow him down.
Heizou bent his knees as soon as he turned the corner, lowering himself for the drunken samurai to hop off. All urgency was momentarily gone as Kazuha tried grounding himself before he could do anything, swaying from side to side, one hand still clasped over his mouth. The doushin tried saying something, but the meaning of it was quickly lost when he heard the sickly wet belch that made Kazuha stumble forward to grip one of the walls.
He stuck to it as if his life depended on it like he was melting against it. Heizou could see the outline of his back rising and falling in erratic motions, curving out to rest his forehead against the wall, holding himself up by one of his elbows. He was breathing heavily, wet shuddering gasps pouring out of him as he finally let his maw hang open.
A trickle of dense, almost syrup-like saliva formed a streak as it fell from his tongue, glistening in the dim lighting of the street. He spat out, trying to rid his mouth of the excess drool and be done with it, but he hadn't lied, he could feel he was going to be sick.
A gassy burp flew off him, turning suspiciously wet right at the end, and his stomach caved in as it cut off, trying desperately to hold onto its contents. Kazuha waited stubbornly as more belches erupted out of him, each one burning a hole through his tongue as splashes of acid mixed with the saliva.
“Ack, ugh”, he grimaced, spitting out and aiming for the ground, but he was lucky enough to hit the wall instead of his feet. “I… ugh, I can't…”
The doushin was uncertain at first, but as soon as he saw Kazuha begin to slip, he rushed to his side, slipping one hand to his chest and the other on his back.
“Kazuha, are you listening? Do you feel like you're going to pass out?”, he jumped to the conclusion, feeling the man's hitching breath right under his palm. The ronin just shook his head, more aware than he originally thought. “Are you going to vomit?”
“It feels like it… but it isn't coming uuh—UUurrRrpPp—up, sorry”, Kazuha apologized again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, this one more to himself for allowing such a loud belch to cut him off. He ran a finger under his lip, catching a line of drool trying to make it to his chin. “Do you mind…? Uh, never mind.”
“W-What? What do you need me to do?” Heizou sounded almost desperate, pressing on Kazuha's chest as eagerness overtook him, but he quickly tried letting go of him.
“No, like that”, the ronin instructed, taking his hand on his and guiding it down, towards his belly. “Can you press on it for me? I just need to… get it out somehow, all that food…”, he trailed off, his words getting garbled as he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, the sign for Heizou to do his part.
The detective, one of the sharpest minds in the Tenryou commission had seemingly short-circuited under the pressure. His hand was resting over Kazuha's bloated stomach now, not applying any force to it yet, but feeling the firm surface push against his palm, noting how it felt tenser in some places, how just his palm wasn't enough to cup it all, even under the layers of his haori.
Heizou wanted to slip his hand inside the fabric, feel his tender skin against his own, but just the thought of it… entertaining for much longer had a pronounced blush coloring his face, a dangerously hot one that had his ears burning like lumps of charcoal.
“Hah… ah… –ome on”, Kazuha panted, managing to say it without his lips touching a single time, more saliva poured out of his tongue, but still he didn't move.
“O-Oh, alright, I'll… okay, just let me know if I'm hurting you”, Heizou asked, stumbling on his words but wasting no more time before he slowly pushed on Kazuha's stomach, sinking his palm into the plush surface underneath, trying to be as gentle as he could. “L-Like this?”
“Uh-huh…”, Kazuha gave an airy noise of confirmation and more drool dripped out his tongue.
Heizou took that as a go-ahead and applied a bit more pressure, feeling a particularly stubborn knot undo under his touch. He thought for a moment it meant a bit of comfort for Kazuha, that he had ridden out a cramp somehow, but he quickly learned all he had managed to do was knead more air out of him.
Kazuha hitched forward with a long belch erupting out of him, turning wet by the end as a splash of bile coated the bottom of his tongue. His face crumpled at the unbearably sour taste, the piles of empty plates and cups of sake were enacting revenge on his senses.
“F…uck… ugh”, he groaned, taking in slow open-mouthed gasps.
The wall in front of him looked like it was tilted, the straight lines in the wood gently bending, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. His head was pounding mercilessly now, the alcohol-induced headache raging on.
Heizou maintained the firm touch on his belly, the tip of his fingers disappearing among the fabric. He could feel the faint yet incessant gurgling coming from his stomach and that told him how much it was upset, like a bundle of tight knots was lost somewhere in there, rolling in a pool of liquid.
He kept pushing, growing less and less gentle, even if Kazuha would let out an occasional moan of pain, even if he was growing dizzier, almost swaying in place, the bubbling of vomit so near and still stuck in his throat pointed he was getting close.
So he pushed a little more, pumping his palm over the tense spot on Kazuha's lean abdomen until he felt the muscles clench hard in preparation for his stomach lurching upwards motion, he could feel all of it in detail under his palm. Kazuha clutched the wooden wall as if he was going to fall from it, his head sinking to his chest as his gullet gave in to a painful retch.
“EeURrGhh!” It scrapped at the bottom of his throat, bringing out a low gurgle before he was finally able to burp out a mouthful of chunky pieces, painting the bottom of the wall a hazy cloud of a yellowish-brown color.
“Now we're getting somewhere…”, Heizou murmured, one hand inching closer to gather a few loose strands of Kazuha's hair away from his face, the other never leaving his belly. He frowned as his cold sweat seeped into his skin, but was relieved to not find any unusual heat there. “Go on, keep going.”
Kazuha gave an empty gag as a response, at first, a few others followed closely, his back heaving incessantly as his stomach pushed a dense mass up his throat. It sounded painful, he was out of breath, nearly choking on it, but Heizou could only keep pumping on his abdomen, hoping to speed up the process while feeling the overblown organ writhe with each dry retch.
“BUuUErRugGH–!” The noise was a garbled violent one suddenly cut by the horrible gurgling of vomit passing through his gullet, the dense chunky mess drizzling out tongue to fall to the ground with a wet plop. Kazuha panted heavily, drool coating his chin, his bruised throat aching each time the cold night air touched the inside of it.
“You're good, Kazu, just keep going”, Heizou told him, patting his back gently and giving his middle a few gentle pumps before Kazuha let out a deep groan of discomfort. His upset belly followed, grumbling deeply as it continued to churn its contents under Heizou's hand.
“I can't– hic! I-It's stuck, I can't– ugh”, he moaned, sucking in a wet gasp between his teeth, his voice was close to breaking. “T-This is torture… I feel so sick, and I still… can't…”
The ronin started to slump forward, the top of his head meeting the wall, but Heizou quickly scooped him up, frowning deeply when he felt the wet hiccups shaking his torso. His eyes drifted to the small pile of regurgitated food on the ground, glistening with acid and alcohol mixed into that dense almost oatmeal-like consistency. It looked painful as if it had congealed as it hit the ground, clumps of fried meat and vegetables sticking out of it, barely digested.
“Shit– I, ugh… don't know what to do, Kazuha…”, the doushin confessed, smoothing out a circle onto his back, the imprint of sweat making his clothes stick to his skin. He just shook his head, sliding one shivering hand off the wall and putting it over his, clutching. “What are you–?”
“Just– guh, press on it, don't be gentle”, Kazuha choked out, sinking Heizou's palm onto his stomach without mercy, the action making him writhe but still biting back a groan of pain. “Like this.”
“O-Okay!”, Heizou stammered, feeling his face burst into a red flame, but he followed, not measuring his strength as he pressed harder onto Kazuha's middle.
The ronin gasped for air, the muscles of his stomach clenching to withstand the abuse, but he was closer to begging for punches than to asking for him to stop. Luckily he didn't sink so low, Heizou quickly understood what he wanted and pressed on mercilessly, pumping his palm on his hardened middle until he felt it lurch against it.
“F-Fuck, guh, h-here it co– EeUuURRrgGgHhHh!” Kazuha tried to say, his voice so raw with nausea it practically dripped, but a struggling retch broke through the sentence. Heizou couldn't even ruminate on the fact he had heard him swear, Kazuha tensed up as vomit climbed up his windpipe.
His cheeks bulged out as the thick slurry flooded his mouth, and he lowered his head as it poured out, completely cutting off his breath. His eyes widened as his chest compressed and heaved violently, panic striking him with the sudden need to inhale. He choked, vomit tapering into wet coughs that sent it further into his airways, he was hacking, trying to rid his sinus of the offending pieces.
“Easy, Kazuha, just try to breath”, Heizou warned, patting his back with enough strength to dislodge whatever was stuck, and the ronin lurched forward with a sounding heave, his head sinking into the wall as a huge gush of a more runny vomit poured out of him in one go.
He couldn't breathe still, his stomach was in the back of his throat, emptying itself in one continuous wave. It sounded like an open faucet or regurgitated alcohol and grease mixing into a watery clumpy slurry that hit the wooden wall and splashed back. Kazuha winced as he felt the hot searing liquid wet his socks, but he could do little to stop it, his body felt like it was being liquified from the inside out.
“You're doing good, Kazu, so good…”, Heizou whispered tenderly, encouraging him while rubbing up and down at the spot between his protruding shoulders. He broke into desperate gasps as the wave tapered off, giving just a little reprieve before the next one came gurgling up. “That's it, don't hold it back.”
“Guh…uhh– EUURrgGhH!”, he didn't even try to. Another sizable gush left him trembling under Heizou, wishing for it to be over soon. Then another one closely followed, splattering heavily onto the floor, specs of it dying his socks a greasy sickly orangeish-brown.
Kazuha blinked away tears of exertion, feeling as if his stomach was being wrung out of his mouth. He could feel the solid chunks coming out practically whole, leaving his throat in scraps. It seemed like it wouldn't end somehow his gut kept coming up with more like it was sapping his energy.
He barely noticed when he blinked out, his vision going dark for a mere second and suddenly the ground was closer to him. He had doubled over, vomit still pouring out his mouth in huge gushes, now squarely over his feet. Heizou seemed to be saying something, but the sound of his stomach contents splattering on the cobblestone drowned him out, only the pressure of his hand on his stomach remaining.
He wasn't listening. Heizou could still feel his heart thumping in his ear, a scare like that wouldn't do any good to it. One minute he was holding Kazuha in place, and in the other the man had just slipped from his grasp, his legs giving out under him, he had to scramble to catch him.
“Hey, hey, don't pass out on me now”, he called out, but he truly wasn't listening, all he could do was keep vomiting as Heizou pulled him, both hands gripping around his middle now.
If he wasn't so worked up he would've remarked how much Kazuha's stomach had noticeably deflated, how it now sunk into his body as a way to compensate for the emptiness inside. He felt in detail when the puking finally ceased and dry empty retching took its place, his stomach throbbing viciously after each, still trying to come up with anything else.
“Ughhh…”, Kazuha groaned weakly and started shivering even more, dangerously close to falling again, all his energy expelled along with his liquified stomach. His mouth was moving, thick threads of bile and drool hanging from his lips, but only shaky slurred words were coming out. “N-No… more… I can't… t-take any more… booze…”
“Kazu? Hey, Kazuha…? Can you hear me?”, Heizou called, instinctively giving his frail body a slight shake, but immediately regretting it when that pried a hollow belch out of the man.
“D-Don… URP!”, he slurred out before weakly gagging over the ground, only a small trickle of bright yellow bile came out, sizzling onto his tongue.
“S-Sorry, I'm sorry!”, Heizou quickly apologized, leaning a bit to see the ronin's sweat-stricken face, he looked worse than death, but it was a sight far better than the mess on the ground. “Are you feeling any better now, at least?”
“N-No… I…” Kazuha didn't respond immediately, if anything, he felt far worse. He spat out shakingly, trying to bring a hand out to clean his face, but his body wouldn't respond either.
Heizou helped him stand up, his hands finally leaving his bruised belly to rest on his back and shoulders, holding him in place. For a moment he just stood there and breathed heavily, his eyes glossy wandering to the wall, then to the mess on the ground, where they fixed and widened.
“Yeah… hard to believe all of that came out of you”, Heizou chuckled, but the comment left a bad taste in his mouth when he heard Kazuha's breath fail. “Sorry, I… anyway, we should get going. You won't want to sleep out here.”
“It wouldn't be the first time…”, Kazuha mumbled, humorless, eyes still glued to the vomit coating the wall. He swallowed in dry, reminded of his soiled socks, the slimy texture in between his toes. “I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to… get this drunk.”
“Hey, it's fine! If anything, it's own my fault for offering you the drinks. It's my responsibility. I'll take care of you, okay?”, Heizou reassured, going to brush a few strands of hair off Kazuha's face, not even thinking of how close that gesture made him. “Think you can walk now? My house isn't far from here.”
Kazuha opened his mouth to protest but closed it again, the words died in his throat. He nodded instead, finally looking at Heizou for what seemed like the first time that night, really taking in his features, and he couldn't help but bite his lip, suppressing a sob.
“Sorry to be a bother…”, he said in a broken tone, gulping down the need to cry. He couldn't tell if it was the drunken haze or the exhaustion speaking for him.
“You're not”, Heizou affirmed, giving him a sincere tap on the shoulder as the two started walking. “Now come on, it's already late.”
