You are awoken by a headbutt to your arm.
“Mm Timothee stop!” You whine.
Timothee whimpers and does it again harder this time. He seems determined almost desperate to wake you.
“It’s late Mon cher.” You say as he continues to bump his head against your arm.
He whimpers again when you roll so your back is facing him.
“I don’t feel good.”
That phrase immediately wakes you. And you turn to face him.
“What’s wrong my dear?” You ask.
“Throat, head and stomach.” He says his voice sounding horribly raspy.
You reach out to feel his head.
“Yeah you’re feverish alright.”
You sit up and turn the light on.
Timothee sits up and rubs his eyes. His stomach gurgles and rumbles.
He squirms and reaches for you. Making grabby hands.
You pull him close and hold him. He burps when you pat his stomach. He groans and tries to settle down in your arms.
“What do you need sweetheart?” You ask
He whimpers and buries his head in your neck as you hold him.
“Don’t know it’s all swirly inside and I don’t know what it wants.”
You hold him tight and kiss his head. You hold him like that until his stomach gurgles loudly and he moves away. He looks at you as sweat breaks out on his forehead.
“Bathroom?” You ask
He nods and rushes off to the bathroom. You follow him and kneel next to him as he gets on his knees to vomit.
You keep his hair out of his face with one hand and rubbed his back with the other.
He groans in between fits of vomiting.
“Hurts so bad.” He whimpers
“I know but it might help your tummy sweetheart.”
He nods and his stomach gurgles. He groans
“I think you’ll have to leave I gotta shit.”
You nod
Despite dating him for over three years at this point he was always paranoid about when his stomach was upset. He was worried about grossing you out.
(Like that one time when he got horribly sick from accidentally eating spicy food that wrecked his GI tract all night long and he refused your help because you’d be too grossed out.)
You nod and turn on the fan in the bathroom.
“There’s more toilet paper in the cabinet ok? I’ll be right outside ok?”
He nods and slowly gets up.
You step outside the bathroom and close the door behind you. You can hear him groaning and cursing to himself. Clearly in pain and miserable.
You leave him be and wait for him. You hated when he got so sick especially when it was his stomach.
As a skinny guy he would lose a lot of weight fast when his stomach would be a mess and make him so sick and weak.
Once he’s done you hear the toilet flush and then the water running in the sink.
Once he’s done washing his hands he leaves the bathroom and just about collapses into your waiting arms.
You kiss his head as you hold him in your arms.
“Icky.” He whines
“I know sweetheart.”
You move him back to bed and you cuddle him and play with his sweaty curls.
He whimpers and coughs as you hold him in bed. You gently pat his back to keep him coughing.
“Good boy.” You sooth as you coach him through the coughing fit.
“Mm. Everything hurts. I hate being sick.” He whines.
“Shh I know baby. You’ll be alright I’ve got you.”
You hold him tight and hum a little as you hold him and kiss him.
“Want to try to take something?” You ask him.
“Nu uh it’ll just come back up.”
You nod and hug him.
“You feel warm I might have to check your temperature. But let’s wait since we just got into bed.”
He nods in agreement and clings to you. You fall asleep holding him.
You spend the rest of the night alternating between sleep and taking care of Timothee when he wakes up sick.
By morning you check his temperature and give him meds for his fever. Then call Brian to cancel Timothee’s plans for the day so he can stay home and rest.