#johncia

[nihilean]

hopefully i draw more of these

[theexorcistfromtheexorcist]

*suspiciously John Ward shaped neck* We outta John Ward

[jomtones-real]

Oh jomtones you stink, you forgot to post your JOHN WARD!!!

The first one isn't just horny guys it has MEANING. TRUST.

Shitposts

[pumpk-n-gutz]

me and my totally normal coworker who i have no feelings for whatsoever (he's checking my booboos)

my half of an art trade for @priestly-prince ! i hope you like it ‼️

[purified-prince]

It finally happened!

[princestrashheap]

Just some cuddly time with some cuddly guys.

No, I will not stop drawing ❤️😊

[eternallytree]

happy faith day

[derorrimsin]

How your sadness breaks my heart similar to a hammer shattering glass.

TW: Vomit, Sickness, Throwing Up

It all starts with a normal night, where they say goodbye to each other before going to bed, craving a night of rest very much like the sleep-deprived people they are aware they are. Probably just a harmless night, where maybe nightmares will let none of them sleep, but this turns out to be something far worse than that.

Were they not careful? What caused this? This is a mystery that will remain unsolved throughout this entire night, where two men pull an all-nighter. One is sick, the other one is sticking by, helping the other get better. Started as concern, but does it end as affection, surprising both men?

They will have to stay up and know.

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As soon as his body hits the bed, he feels weird. There is something extremely wrong with him, his stomach feels weird, painfully tight. No matter which side he turns to, the priest can not seem to be able to sleep. No matter if he grips the sheets too hard, harshly turning from side to side. John sits on the edge of the bed, dismissing his situation as a headache, knowing he will have you get up either way, and he does.

'My body hurts so much, too much...' - the priest gets up from the bed, his head aches and he feels dizzy.

Going downstairs, he quickly realizes he is alone in the living room. He sits on the couch, trying to collect his breath for a moment, rubbing his temples to wash away the headache that has been nagging on his brain since he first lay down on the bed. Sighing, Ward tries not to look down, knowing that it will make everything worse inside his sick body.

'I am fine, I am fine...' - John thinks. This feels like pure suffering for him because, well, it kind of is. Not even taking deep breaths helps, instead, seems to make it all worse.

John gets up, thinking the nerves are not fraid and he starts to feel a little better. However, as soon as he stands up, along with his knee pain, Ward feels the sudden need to throw up. Luckily enough, he reaches the bathroom on time and is able to throw up in the toilet. The pain is intense, it hurts so bad, his eyes tear up as he tries to hold back. It feels like mockery, having a really nice e dinner with someone important only to throw it all out.

He hears someone behind him, rough and heavy steps. John does not pay attention to them, unable to stop throwing everything out until no food lays on his heavy stomach, until he feels a calloused hand pull his head slightly back, with a gentleness more of concern than anything else. This time, he has to remind himself that he is not alone anymore.

-Hijo, what happened? - he hears Garcia's rough and groggy voice from sleep, clearly from someone who just woke up and did not think twice about his destination.

-Deep breaths, nice and slow, okay? Deep breaths, mi hijo.- Garcia caresses John's back in gentle circular motions, as he watches the tears in his eyes. That simply breaks him.

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It takes sometime for John to calm down, for his body to empty itself. He still feels awful, dizzy and pained, now add guilt for waking up Garcia with his problems to the matter. Ward is on the couch now, after the older priest quickly made a makeshift bed so he would sleep near the bathroom.

- John? Why are you still crying? - he asks. - Does your throat hurt? That is totally normal, hijo...

Ward nods to the first question, he can barely speak at all. His sobs start to calm down, going from an erratic panic attack to soft, pained sobs. His presence helps, makes him feel a little more safe, and somehow comfortable too.

- You will not feel instantly better, John. I know how tempting it is, but it is not magical like that. - he is in the kitchen, making some tea for the sick man. He gently places it on Ward's hands, making sure he will not drop it with his trembling.

- Thank you, Father... Just everything hurts. I feel awful. I felt suffocated, you know? A terrifying feeling. - he mutters, wanting to open up but not knowing if this is the right time. The need to accept that he can be sick too is overwhemling, but it feels almost wrong after... Well, everything.

- I understand. These things are quite the pain the ass, but we have to face them every once in a while. Plus, this is only the first time you threw up, after the tea you will keep throwing up. It empties the stomach, like it needs.

John sighs. He knows the truth in Father Garcia's words, but it feels a little shameful, especially now that he is not alone in the house anymore. However, looking into the man's eyes and seeing kindness and no judgment reflected back at him, it makes him want to try and learn that he can be sick too.

- Can you...can you stay with me for a little longer? - his voice is quiet and vulnerable, but he craves company.

Garcia's gaze further softens, as he can feel John's craving for company after such a vulnerable moment. More than eagerly, he wraps an arm around the man's shoulders and pull him closer. He continues the gentle circular motions on Ward's back.

- Of course. For as long as you need, hijo.

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