hiiii! Decided to give writing a shot after just lurking for a while
James had never been too light of a sleeper, but he had went into the trip already accepting that he would be wide awake until they got to the hotel. It was hard to get comfortable enough to fall asleep on the bus, the seats were too stiff, the fabric burned his neck, and the snoring coming from the blonde boy beside him was not helping. He didn’t mind it much though. Weirdly enough for him, he found it quite peaceful. It gave him a bit of time to check out where they were, look out the window, maybe spot a cool landmark or two. He often imagined himself parkouring through the buildings as they passed by, planning how he would jump from the roof to grab the streetlight, then swing himself to the wall, climb up the wired fences… He was certain he could do it if he tried, with enough luck and more than enough beers to give him the courage to. He was already thinking of ways to get their hands on a few cans, maybe a bottle of vodka to share if they were lucky, and sneak it into the hotel. The last part was easy, but they needed a place that would sell them alcohol without asking for an ID. But then again, Remus looked old enough. At least, James thought so, and hoped the clerk would as well.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ghost of a hiccup and what sounded like a sob coming from the seat in front of him. He tried to look over, but could not make much out in the dark. He knew it was Regulus sitting there, he had seen his dark curls peaking through the gap between the seats, but he had been so quiet he almost forgot he even came on the trip with them in the first place. It had surprised him to see Regulus getting on the bus; he did not seem like the type to sign up for an end of school trip to an amusement park five hours away, especially if none of his friends were there to physically drag him there. James assumed they were his friends, but he could never be too sure. No matter who he was with, Regulus Black never seemed like he wanted to be there.
Another ghost of a sob was enough to peak James’ curiosity enough to investigate. He had never seen Regulus upset, let alone cry. Thinking of it, he hadn’t seen Regulus show much emotion, except for that time he caught a glimpse of him laughing at the other side of the cafeteria. A quick smile appeared on his lips as he recounted the way his eyes creased and a small dimple appeared on his right cheek.
He carefully slipped out of his seat, almost levitating to not touch, kick or push anyone, and made his way over to the empty seat besides Regulus.
“Hey” he whispered.
The younger boy looked at him for maybe a second before turning away to face the window.
“What do you want…?” He hummed.
James could see what looked like tears glistening with the streetlights on his cheek.
“You alright?”
“…”
“Reg?”
“I’m fine, leave me alone…”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
James looked at him again to confirm that those were indeed, tears.
“Have you been crying?”
Once again, Regulus did not respond.
“Oi-“
“What do you want?!” He snapped.
“Nothin’… Just… Uhm- Are you okay?”
“That’s none of your— hrmph—“ his fist flew to his lips, and he closed his eyes. James was now watching him. He seemed pale, paler than he already was, and he could make out eyebags even in the darkness.
“Regulus?”
“…Please leave…” the other boy murmured, his hand still not leaving his lips.
James studied him for a second.
“Are you sick?”
Regulus was silent for a while, and James had almost given up on waiting for an answer when he heard a faint whisper.
“I do not like cars…”
“Uh— Should I tell the driver to pull over?”
Regulus shook his head.
“You don’t look good though…”
“I’m fine.”
He spoke again after a pause, quieter.
“They don’t need to know…”
“Know what?”
“This…”
“Regulus, if you’re carsick—“
“I’ll be okay… I just—“ he took a deep breath.
“It’s not a big deal… You’re making a big deal…”
James was certain that he wasn’t. Regulus Black looked, well— green.
He sighed. After a few minutes, the silence was interrupted by another repressed gag. James immediately turned to Regulus, who was facing away from him.
“Are you—“
“Please go away…”
“Regulus…”
“James Potter, will you— Hrrk!-“
A hand flew over Regulus’s mouth, and he shut his eyes tightly. He was sweating, shaking a bit, and James could tell what was going to happen. He got up.
“I’m telling them to pull over.”
“…Highway…” Regulus hummed.
James looked out the window. Indeed, it was probably not possible to stop. He had to think quickly, and he reached for his bag through the gap, and grabbed the plastic bag that once held sandwiches for the road.
“Here…”
Regulus opened his eyes for a second, then immediately shut them again, shaking his head.
“You might need—“
“Everyone will see…”
“Everyone‘a asleep, it’s okay…”
He shook his head again. James sighed, and shifted in his seat so that his entire body would be facing Regulus, shielding him.
“C’mon… Turn to me… They won’t see…”
“Hmph!—“
He was fighting to keep everything down, James could see it, he lightly touched his shoulder.
“It’s okay… Let it out if you need to…”
Regulus gave no response, nor did he obey. He just stayed still, eyes closed and covering his mouth. James had almost pulled the bag away when a hand frantically grabbed his and pulled the bag towards itself.
“BLEUGHH” Regulus heaved, throwing up into the bag. James held it for him.
“There you go…”
Regulus sobbed, followed by another heave.
“HEUGHHH”
A few people had woken up to the sound, and James could sense the heads turning towards them. He did not care, he just shifted a bit, both to protect Regulus’s privacy and to cover his vision from any curious eyes.
Regulus lifted his head up, and looked at James for a second, before having to dip it back down.
“Hmmrrkh—BLEUGHHH”
He had gotten up most of his stomach contents at this point, but he kept dry heaving for a while. Only after about a minute after he had stopped vomiting, he felt safe enough to lift his head back up.
Suddenly, he fell over towards James, exhausted from having been so sick. James let him rest his head on his shoulder as he tied the nearly full plastic bag to discard of it in the nearest rest stop.
“I-I’m sorry…” Regulus murmured.
“Shh… Shut up… No need to apologize.”
Regulus sobbed again, and pulled away from James as he leaned toward the window, pulling his legs up and hugging his knees.
“Are you… okay…?”
“I’m better…” he replied.
And he was. Regulus would spend a delightful 45 minutes before James having to pull him to the back of the gas station to puke into the bushes when the toilet line was too long at the rest stop. Before finding out the reason why he decided to join the trip, James would spend the entire bus ride wondering why on earth Regulus would choose to do this to himself. After learning it, however, he would believe that Regulus Black, vomiting into a plastic bag on a bus in the middle of the night, was the most noble anyone could ever be.
Years later, he would recount this moment as he once again held open a plastic bag for his husband of two hours on the car ride back home after one too many drinks.
We are starting the road trip! Have some sick Rip at the train with Dylan and Hector.
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Hector said, chewing his lower lip.
"Totally sure," Arnie repeated.
"Absolutely and completely?"
"Urreversibly," Arnie said with a grin.
"I don't know. Isaiah is finally feeling better, the trip is a great opportunity to spend quality time with him..."
Arnie lifted his hands. "Go and enjoy it. I'm glad you guys are reconnecting."
"You should be reconnecting too."
"You need it more. Besides, it's basically a wolf road trip."
"I'm taking Olive to meet Isaiah. He is taking Seline. They are historical tourist cities. Enough space for humans."
"It's gonna be all couply and cheezy. I won't stand in the way."
Hector must have looked pathetic, because Arnie's expression softened.
"To be real with you, I'm really okay. I don't believe you are neglecting me or leaving me out. I want to try to have two weeks for myself without your check ins and control and random bursts into the place."
Hector eyed him sceptically. "That makes me want to go even less. What do you want to do without my supervision?"
Arnie stuck his tounge at him. "No parties, passing out drunk or doing drugs. Swear. I'm gonna be responsible."
Hector frowned, looking down.
A sigh from Arnie. "Hex, I love you, man, but you are smothering me. I'm trying to make friends outside the freaking pack and I can't have them over, stay over and you scare whoever stops by the door. Please, just go."
"Arnie..." He didn't know what to say. It made sense. It also made his chest heavy with panic and dread.
"We are gonna figure something out, okay? I'll look into apartments-"
Hector jumped up from where he had been leaning against the table. "What-"
"Two apartments," Arnie cut in. "Two. Next to each other. So you can hover behind another wall, if you won't allow me the student dormitory. And honestly, this could solve crap for you too. You spend most of your waking time with Olive in that tiny place, cause you can't bring her over to the pack base. You need a place where you can be together and you can keep me safe. Perfect solution."
"I have no idea where such a place could be," Hector said dryly, looking away in shame. Maybe he really did spent a lot of time with Olive now. He hated he couldn't have his two most important people at one place.
Sure, he did get Arnie and Olive together from time to time and they were on good terms. But he couldn't bring Olive to the pack as his human girlfriend. Not as his chosen partner. It was dangerous and risking an upheaval he wasn't ready to deal with. He needed more people in his corner first.
Plus, it would put Olive in danger too. Uncomfortable at the very least. He didn't know how to explain what being with him would entail...and if he could, he would spare her from it for as long as it was possible.
"I can't believe you're gonna leave me alone with Rip," Hector said, cause it was easier than acknowledging the rest.
Arnie watched him knowingly though. "It's not gonna be so bad. You spend 2 days in the car with him last summer. A one day train ride will be much easier."
"That's just the first part. I thought you would be there keeping me company."
"You will have Dylan and then Isaiah, Sel and Olive waiting for you there after the flight. You won't even notice the guy for the rest of the trip."
"That would be too soon. I don't like him."
Arnie chuckled. "I don't think so. You are jealous, but that's not really his fault, is it?"
"I know. It's Isaiah's."
That earned him an eyeroll. "Jeez. One of these days, you could also stop thinking about relationships in hierarchies. People don't just get replaced, they create new roles for themselves."
The younger boy leaned into Hector's side casually. "I'm so not worried about Olive replacing me or whatever you keep stringing up in Hector-fantasy-land, okay? Go and enjoy the trip."
...
Rip wasn't particularly happy about the travel arrangement either.
On one hand it was cool they didn’t have to take an extra car for him. And that this wasn’t a training trip but a real holiday kind of thing.
Rip loved travelling. He had managed to criss-cross most of Europe on his own — on top of trains, hitchhiking rides, walking the backroads. He avoided crowds and tourist traps, sure, but he could move through cities on top of roofs with his parkouring skills just fine.
Being invited like this—being trusted enough to tag along with Isaiah, Seline and Dylan—it was unbelievable. He was still getting over his excitement and disbelief.
Okay, not trusted exactly. Isaiah probably wanted him as backup. Extra eyes and muscle. Someone who could move fast, stay alert, cover for them if things went south. Maybe, maybe, Isaiah felt a little safer with Rip watching his back when he wasn't at a hundred percent.
That was fine. Rip could be useful. He wanted to be useful.
It had been a couple of weeks since Isaiah's hospital release and he had reassured them all he was ready—which they had believed, once Seline confirmed it.
Rip was glad just to be included. He would bring his best game. Be sharp, strong, effective. Maybe if he proved himself enough, Isaiah would trust him again on future trips. Even the ones involving wolves.
Especially the ones involving wolves.
The last half-year under Isaiah’s care—going with him to meets, not just lurking in the shadows—had been so different. Like someone had pulled a blindfold from his eyes.
He hadn’t even realized he had gotten used to living like that. Half-blind, half-feral.
Isaiah was helping him see it.
Rip had thought he didn’t miss wolves. Or company. But being seen—being able to walk through crowds without shrinking, to meet the eyes of those who would have spat on him before—it was different.
He had fought for survival, for his right to exist, wherever he went.
But now he could walk among wolves who once judged him an outcast and a waste of oxygen—and face them directly.
It made him feel dangerous. In a good way.
Not that he knew what Isaiah was really after. The guy moved like he was playing three games at once, seeing five different meanings where Rip barely caught one. Held ten agendas, eleven sets of cards.
Rip didn’t get it. But somehow, Isaiah always ended up helping people. Even the ones no one bothered with.
It was...something to see.
Isaiah wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t even easy to read most days. But what he was building—whatever this was—it felt solid. It felt good.
Rip wasn't supposed to think about that. As long as wasn't betraying strays and he wasn't hurting anyone who didn't piss him off nonetheless, he didn't give a shit about what he did. Feelings really had nothing to do with life.
This was new. Risky, even. He wasn’t sure what the hell was happening to him. But he knew this much: He wanted to stick around and see what Isaiah did next.
...shame he was stuck with Hector of all people in the train. They had their own compartment, so it was just Rip, Dylan and Hector. Even with the six seats, it felt way too crowded.
Rip offered to come on his own. He could hitchhike the trains just fine, thank you. But then Dylan said he would come with him and Isaiah shook his head in that exasperated way...but nobody wanted to make it difficult on Isaiah so early after his recovery and there was no way Rip could handle a flight.
So here they were. In the spirit of being helpful, Hector offered to take the train with them, sending his girlfriend ahead with Seline and Isaiah to fly for one hour, instead of riding the night train.
Rip honestly wondered how long this pretense would last. Someone with such a fiery temperament as Hector wouldn't take long.
On most days, Rip considered himself quite resistant to most things. But he didn't like loud, explosive people demanding attention and things to be their way with that implied or else.
Hector fit that to a T.
"I'm telling you, trains are the most comfortable rides," Dylan said, getting comfortable over two seats next to Rip. "Rode them for half of my life. You can move more than in a car or plane, you are way more steady, there are snack bars. What's not to like?"
Rip had to admire how unconcerned Dylan was. Crowds of people filling the train in the other compartments didn't seem to register to him at all. For all looks and purposes, he acted like a real human.
Dylan's shadow was so tightly suppressed that Rip could barely feel it. That had its own kind of limitations. Getting in touch with it would take a couple of days. But it was more than fitting for a two-week road trip through Italy.
Hector scoffed. "The best is obviously the car. You can control the ride, stop and go off some predetermined path. That's why we are getting a rental car, when we arrive and you two are both going to be okay with it."
Dylan rolled his eyes, which was precisely what Rip wanted to do. Someone should remind Hector that he wasn't in charge of them, like with every other wolf in his life.
Someone other than Rip, preferably.
Rip crossed his arms, like that would keep Hector out. He didn’t want to need him for anything. Mildly disappointed by not having Isaiah there was one thing, but he couldn't even talk with Dylan like he wanted to. Not with Hector staring at Rip the way like he wanted to have a fight Rip couldn't retaliate.
Urgh.
Dylan wasn't bothered. Got himself earphones and kept showing Rip some kind of game on his phone that made Rip's eyes hurt.
The stray wolf was content to get some sleep. If Isaiah was there, he would want to show off and be alert and helpful. But with Hector eager to be in charge and Dylan's shoulder against this, he didn't care.
Rip wasn't sure why he was feeling so sleepy. He kept yawning, although he could go less than 4 hours of sleep a day and be fine for a couple of weeks—something Isaiah wouldn't allow him, anyway.
It was unsettling, feeling this sleepy with Hector right there, glaring and scowling.
There was this pressure behind his eyes though. When the promised snack handling mini-bar came over, Dylan cheerfully took over their orders and got sparkling water, coffee, croissants...
Rip wanted to share into Dylan's enthusiasm, but the smell of the croissant and coffee repelled him. Settling on sipping the sparkling water, he couldn't understand the feeling of unease that was drying his throat.
The sparkling water wasn’t sitting right.
Half an hour later, his stomach sloshed with every lurch of the train, bloated and tight. The compartment felt smaller by the minute, buzzing like a tin can full of bees.
Rip shifted in his seat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Heat pulsed under his skin.
Tried to forget the noise, the motion, the way Hector’s scowl seemed to scrape against him even when he wasn’t looking. But the heaviness behind his eyes wouldn’t go away. And every breath tasted like iron and heat.
Rip leaned his elbow on the armrest, pressing his forehead into his palm.
The coolness helped, a little.
At least until the train jerked again and the nausea sloshed back, hotter and heavier.
He shifted, trying to breathe slower. Maybe if he focused on the window—on the blur of trees and concrete flashing past—it would ground him. He rested his forehead lightly against the glass.
The cold bit into his skin, but it wasn’t enough. The buzzing in his ears didn’t stop. Neither did the sickly heat pooling deep in his stomach, twisting like a rope pulled too tight.
He heard Dylan laughing beside him, tapping something on his phone, chatting about a game Rip wasn’t even registering anymore.
He didn’t have the air to answer anyway.
Rip closed his eyes, trying not to look obvious, trying not to draw attention.
Dylan didn’t notice. Hector sure as hell wouldn’t care.
The pressure behind his eyes had turned into a pounding throb now.
Each sway of the train sent another wave rolling through him—heat, cold, nausea, dizziness—until he didn’t know if he could stay upright.
He gritted his teeth. Counted down stops in his head.
Tried to convince himself it wasn’t that bad. He just needed to last a little longer.
He elbowed Dylan into the side. "H-hic-how much longer?"
Dylan blinked, pulling out one earbud. He checked the time on his phone. "Uh... two hours down, about five more to Bologna, if everything’s on time," he said easily. Then he turned properly toward Rip, frowning. "You good?"
Rip nodded, which was a mistake. The world tilted sideways for a second, the heat in his face flashing hotter, making his stomach clench. He jerked his head away, pressing it back against the cold glass like it could pin him there, hold him still.
"Yeah," Rip muttered hoarsely. "Fine."
Dylan didn’t look convinced.
"You’re pale, man. Like...ghost-level pale," he said, peering closer.
He lowered his voice. "You gonna be sick?"
Rip tightened his jaw. He hated the question. He hated the hiccup that slipped out again when he tried to answer.
"I’m good," he said through gritted teeth. Mostly because if he said anything else, he wasn’t sure he’d keep it together.
Dylan didn’t push, but Rip could feel his friend hovering now, his easygoing buzz replaced with a low, sharp awareness — the kind only wolves could slip into when something was wrong.
"Uhm," Dylan said, voice sarcastic now, "you say it, but you don't look it. Just lemme know if you need-"
Another hiccup cut him off, rough and wet in Rip’s throat. He hunched lower, elbow slipping off the armrest as he pressed his fists against his mouth.
The train rocked slightly, and Rip swallowed hard against the rising bile. The sparkling water sloshed miserably inside him, his stomach cramping up in waves.
"Obviously not fine," Hector said dryly. "Get him into a bathroom before he throws up all over the seats. The train's too full to find a new compartment of our own."
Somewhere beyond the pounding in his head, he registered Dylan getting to his feet, dragging him up by the arm.
Rip wanted to snap back, but the words wouldn't come. The train lurched and he lost his balance, stumbling sideways into the seat.
A strong hand caught his arm at the elbow.
Hector.
Rip flinched instinctively, but Hector just steadied him with a grim, impatient look. "Get a grip," Hector muttered under his breath.
Dylan was already at the door, sliding it open and peering out into the corridor. His eyes were blown wide and he was glancing at them and back, as if not sure what to do, how to best intervene. "Bathroom’s two cars down," Dylan announced. "Come on. You can make it."
Rip tried to push himself upright, but the movement made his vision gray out around the edges. He swayed—and Hector caught him again, this time gripping his shoulder with a steadier, almost awkward firmness.
"Move it," Hector said, quieter now. Not as angry, just brisk. Far cry from Isaiah's calm, gentle tone, though.
Rip swallowed down another hiccup, the taste of bile burning higher in his throat.
The train lurched, stronger and faster than he'd expected, throwing Rip sideways. His vision was all out of sorts, stomach in turmoil, insides practically wringing together.
Dylan was too many steps away, hurrying towards the bathroom and then jumping back for him.
"D-" Rip coughed, then gagged into his hand. Another violent lurch. He couldn't catch his balance at all, shoulder hitting the door of another compartment hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, sweaty bangs falling into his vision. "S-stop moving so fast- I can't-"
"Okay, okay," Dylan said, suddenly appearing by his side. He hooked his arm around Rip's, giving him something to latch onto. The walk was painfully slow, Dylan holding into the railing in the hall while Rip held onto his sleeve like a lifeline.
Rip retched into his hand, the sparkles climbing up his throat, but managed to swallow it back down. It made him stumble, legs all tangled up.
Dylan grunted with the effort of keeping them upright. "Almost there."
The bathroom door loomed ahead, just a few steps more, and Dylan kicked it open with his foot.
Rip basically fell inside against the small sink built into the wall and sank to his knees painfully. The moment he was sure they were inside, disgust shivered through him like lightning from the sheer crampiness. And his body gave out.
He lurched against the movement of the train, seeing stars as the water rocketed out of him. His stomach squeezed and he groaned as his breakfast made a reappearance into that dark grey toilet.
"Christ," Dylan cursed beside him, trying to fit his long limbs inside the bathroom. He had to keep it halfway open.
Rip was panting over the toilet, not feeling better at all. He burped up another mouthful of bread crust, wrapping an arm around his gurgling middle.
"You are okay, man. Did the sandwich from morning-"
Rip whimpered at the mention, pressing his forehead into his elbow. "D-don't talk about food..."
The toilet flushed above him. Shortly after, Dylan lowered himself next to Rip, rubbing between his shoulder blades. "What brought this on? We did the same thing all day...if you aren't allergic to Hector, that is. Totally fair."
That should have made him laugh, he knew, but all he managed was a hitch and a queasy hiccup. "I still feel so sick, D."
Dylan squeezed his shoulder, his hand warm. "Now that we are on it, do you like, get motion sick?"
"I didn't before..."
Dylan pressed the back of his hand to Rip's cheek from behind. "Well, you aren't feverish, so that's the only explanation I got for now."
"G-got something that would make it better?" Rip's stomach rolled along the train, a whole new wave of nausea crashing over him.
"Not here, I'm afraid. We can get you something for carsickness when we stop." Dylan sounded as mournful as Rip felt. "I'm sorry."
Rip just groaned, curling tighter against the cabinet. This was going to be a hellish ride.
Hihihi! I was wondering if you could please do some tummy ache headcanons or drabbles for Hyunjin! Whether he has a stomach flu, overate, or motion sickness, I honestly don’t care, it’s up to you! If you don’t wanna do it that’s fine tho <3
hedcanons for hyunjin are here, those included!
now onto the drabbles…
“hyung,” hyunjin groaned, rolling down the window of the car, “i’m dying.” the kids had been on the van for over an hour, half of the time stuck on traffic, and the hot summer air didn’t help at all. with the ac half-broken and seven boys still buzzing with energy from the day, the van seemed more like hell to hyunjin than a vehicle.
“you’re not dying,” changbin said, smirking as he patted hyunjin’s knee. but the way the dancer’s stomach rolled said otherwise. with each turn, he felt worse, and it wasn’t long before his face had gone white as a ghost.
“everything ok?” a worried voice asked. hyunjin had his eyes shut and didn’t dare to open them, but he recognised the warm tone that belonged to no other than the leader.
“gon’ be sick,” the dancer mumbled, hugging his stomach tightly as he doubled over. a hand appeared on his back, moving in soothing motions. changbin. he would’ve cringed at the added heat if he didn’t feel so awful. he was barely able to hold back a gag when a plastic bag was finally passed to him. it was gonna be a long ride…
the maknae’s hand was cold on hyunjin’s forehead, holding his hair back as he threw up for the third time that afternoon. no one knew how or when, but the dancer had managed to catch a stomach bug somewhen along their trip to jeju. he just suddenly emerged one morning from his room, pale and shaky as he stumbled to the bathroom.
despite his protests about not wanting to get the others sick, the boys hadn’t left his side at all. he wasn’t even going to complain anymore because he was sure he’d otherwise be dead by now.
“are you done?” jeongin asked, flushing the toilet so hyunjin wouldn’t feel sick at the sight of it. the dancer nodded, but he was ready to drop dead right there and then. “i feel awful,” he groaned, hugging his stomach and slumping against the maknae, who simply chuckled in response. but feeling the shivers that wracked the older’s body, he quickly wrapped his arms around him.
“my stomach still hurts,” hyunjin mumbled, burying his face into jeongin’s shoulder. how was it possible to still feel so bad even after taking meds? he shrugged the thought off when he felt the maknae pull away and stand up, holding a hand out for hyunjin to take. slowly, he let i.n pull him to his feet, though he stumbled a bit.
“let’s get you to bed,” jeongin said, brushing hyunjin’s hair out of his glossy eyes, “you look like a zombie.” if a zombie could feel the way their stomach twisting itself then yes, he was indeed a zombie, he just hoped no one else would turn into one…
can you tell i’m obsessed with cursed-carmine’s ribbon dividers 😭 also i discovered i love writing drabbles lol
Okay - here's a Riley request! Is he still emetophobic? I know he's been trying to overcome it, at least with respect to being able to take care of Madix, and I'd love to see Madix motion sick or something similar where the illness is temporary and not contagious, and Riley deciding that he really wants to sit with him through the entire episode, taking care of him. And he's just holding it together and holding down his anxiety until the end, and he's both proud of himself but also emotionally drained from keeping his emotions in check for so long. So hopefully this works with where they are right now - thank you!
Thank you Lis! This was totally inspiring! It did take me a long time to get the motivation to post it though lol. I wrote this like a day after you sent the idea!
--------------------
“Do you think we’ll see a real polar bear on this trip?” Riley asked excitedly as he boarded the train with a misleading name. Madix chuckled and followed along behind his giddy boyfriend, shaking his head.
The Polar Bear Express—though unlikely to show passengers a glimpse of the white-furred animal—was still a wonder to experience especially during Christmas time. The evergreens sparkled with frost and the sky wore the colours of crystals. Unfortunately, Christmas was also the busiest time, meaning their tickets placed them in one of the last train cars. In hindsight, Riley should have known that the train ride through Northern Ontario held the risk of upsetting his boyfriend’s delicate constitution when it came to travel.
Madix had successfully gotten sick from cars, planes, and boats; why not add a fourth mode of transportation. Neither he nor Riley thought to consider the consequences. They heard about a romantic Christmas train ride and jumped on board.
Riley squeezed past other passengers to get to their seats. “I call the window seat!” He planted himself happily in the blue velvet-lined chair. The interior of the car was simple and spacious. It dared not distract from the beauty of nature. “Maybe we can switch on the way back.”
The train began with a lurch, reminding the boys of the coffee they drank to wake themselves up that morning. Beginning at 8am, the ride took them past mountains and frozen waterfalls, ending where they began at 8pm that night.
“We’ll probably see moose,” Madix remarked, taking the pamphlet from the pocket of the seat in front of him. There was plenty of leg room, though he still chose to press his knee against Riley’s thigh. All morning, Riley had not let go of his hand. They were stuck together like packing snow.
The boys shrugged off their jackets and settled in. For the first two hours, they were content to look out the large window. The landscape was crisp and sharp, that was until everything began to blur together. The icy blues melted into a monotone white as the locomotive sped by.
Their bodies swayed lightly from the movement. Riley found the train relaxing. He liked its gentle hum, the faint clicking sounds of the wheels on the track, and the soft rocking as they traversed the snowy area. They still hadn’t seen a moose, but he kept his eyes locked on the outdoors.
Madix could not say he felt the same. The train’s friendly interior lulled him into a false sense of safety. But soon he had no trouble remembering that he was inside a giant, chugging, metal box. Perhaps a moose or a beaver did in fact wave to them, but he would never know. Everything became a blur. His eyes could not keep up with the speeding sights. He swallowed a bout of nausea and closed his eyes.
Riley perked up when they came upon a flowing river. The water looked frigid, but pleasant enough apparently for the black bear that stood with all four paws in the stream. It wasn’t white, but it was still a freakin bear! He tapped Madix’s arm. “Babe, look, look! A bear! Did you see it?” He looked back at Madix with a massive smile.
Madix jumped out of his queasy daze. He peeled his eyes open, squinting from the light that bounced off the snow. “Mmh?” he mumbled. He was startled just fast enough to see a micro expression of disappointment on Riley’s face.
“A bear…it’s gone now.” Riley pouted. “Were you sleeping?”
Madix sat up straighter and blinked hard. “No, I just had to close my eyes for a second.” The lump in his throat told him that he wasn’t going to be able to hide this. His palms were clammy, and his head ached. The breakfast he’d eaten hours ago churned in his belly. “I’m feeling a bit nauseous.”
“Oh.” Riley took his hand off his boyfriend’s arm and pressed himself up against the window.
Madix swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“N—No, no don’t be,” Riley stuttered. He brushed a strand of Madix’s hair behind his ear. “You’re pale. What can I do?”
“Nothing. I’ll probably go find an empty chair and wait it out.”
Riley hated that answer. Nothing. There was nothing he could do? And Madix’s plan was to weather out the nausea alone? He couldn’t let this happen again. After all he had done for Madix in his time of need, this was easy, right?
He grabbed Madix’s hand before he could leave their seats. “No, stay. Please. It’ll be okay. I want to help.”
“Are you sure?” Madix scanned Riley’s expression, looking for cracks. “Because that was bullshit about waiting it out.” He exhaled shakily. “I really think I’m gonna be sick.”
As if to test Riley’s resolve, Madix burped into his hand. He let out a groan and folded in on himself. He swore he could feel the wind rocking the train car, threatening to push it off the tracks. He squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t even open them when he felt Riley’s hand on his back.
“I’m staying right here.”
Madix hiccupped, causing his shoulders to jolt. “Ugh…you don’t have to, love.”
“Hush now,” Riley said firmly. He reached into the seat pocket to grab a bag. “Look, they even provided a barf bag for just such an occasion.”
Madix chuckled and took the bag from his boyfriend. He opened it, making the loudest crinkling noises that let all the other passengers know he was sick. “This is not the scenic trip you were hoping to have.”
“Maybe not, but at least I’m by your side.”
“Is your plan to be so cheesy that I throw up immediately and get this over with?”
“Is it working?” Riley regretted his reply when Madix belched wetly into the bag. Strings of saliva dripped from his open mouth. “Shit, baby.”
“I’m okay.” Madix did not look up from the depths of the hellish barf bag. “Just keep talking. I think it’ll help us both.”
Riley’s heart chugged in his chest, like a train struggling up a mountain side. “Oh gosh, Mads. I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “This is like when you ask me to talk dirty and I say something stupid about underwear.”
Madix would have laughed at the specific memory that Riley was referring to, but his tongue was flooded with bile. He gagged and filled the bag with stringy ropes of vomit. The train car spun in his peripheral vision, but Riley’s voice remained constant and strong.
“Oh dear, babe.” Riley rubbed his boyfriend’s back, unaware of the bite force he exerted on his teeth or the bouncing of his leg. “Deer! I hope we see some of those on this trip. Once you stop puking, of course. I can’t believe you missed the fucking bear. Isn’t your family from the east coast? You’re supposed to have fishermen blood in your veins. What is this motion sickness nonsense? I think you’re faking it.”
A gush of sour vomit surged past Madix’s lips. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. Riley could be a comedian. He could almost enjoy the senseless drabble if it wasn’t for the gut churning sensation in his belly.
“Speaking of underwear!” Riley said, still in his hushed whisper. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. Madix was looking better with every heave. “I wore the ones with otters on them today. Seemed like the closest thing to polar bears. Except, they’re wearing astronaut suits because, you know, otter space.”
Finally, Madix could give him a real laugh. The vomiting tapered off. He sniffled and chuckled at the same time, forcing him to clear his throat and wipe the tears from his eyes. “God, Ry. I needed that.”
“Yeah, that was a lot of puke. Good job.”
“No, I mean you.” Madix crumpled the top of the bag in his hands to keep the contents inside. “Thanks for making me feel better. You did a good job as well.”
One of the train workers came by with a garbage bin for Madix to toss the used bag. They gave him water and tissues. His eyes were teary from vomiting, but he looked much better than before.
Riley was only just coming down from the adrenaline rush. His hands were shaking, and a cold sweat was drying beneath his shirt. He slumped back in the chair and let out a wavering exhale. “I think it’s my turn to close my eyes for a second.”
“Yes, honey, rest,” Madix said softly. “You did good.”
They fell asleep with their bodies falling onto one another. Madix’s head found the spot between Riley’s ear and collar bone, and Riley’s head came to rest on top.
Yes, she gets really bad motion sickness on any kind of public transportation. That's why Reiko tries to avoid it whenever possible. Sometimes even cars are bad for her....
Today Reiko can't help but spew inside a taxi on her way home. Good thing she's got a bag....though it looks like she's making a bit of a mess on herself...
Be My Favorite (2023) - บทกวีของปีแสง - Whump List
List by StayDandy
Synopsis : Botkawi has forever been in love with Pearmai. His life is forever changed when a musical crystal ball he bought as an important gift for Pearmai transports him back in time to the age of eighteen. Everything turns upside-down. Instead of fulfilling his hopes and setting things right with Pearmai, Botkawi somehow ends up in the arms of Pisaeng. Thus begin their cat and mouse games with Pisaeng chasing after Botkawi. Old feelings for Pearmai, however, become a detriment to their blossoming romance. Frustrated, Botkawi keeps twisting the crystal ball in an attempt to get his desired results. (MDL)
AKA : You Are My Favorite | The Poetry of Lightyears
Whumpee : “Kawi” Botkawi played by Krist Perawat Sangpotirat
• Pisaeng Jirawarakul played by Fluke Gawin Caskey
Country : 🇹🇭 Thailand
Genres : Romance, Life, Supernatural, BL / Boys Love
Notes : This is a Full Whump List
• Adapted from the novel "You Are My Favorite" (บทกวีของปีแสง) by JittiRain
Episodes on List : 7
Total Episodes : 12
*Spoilers below*
01 : (near end) Kawi is drunk
02 : … continued from previous ep. ... Drunk.. falls asleep, carried
04 : Drunk
06 : Drunk, passes out, caught … carried
09 : Pisaeng is drunk
11 : Sick … Kawi sick … hospitalized (well that escalated quickly - wish they stretched this out a bit more naturally)
12 : [past] Motion sick from a roller coaster … [present] Hospitalized, ventilator
