Aiden&Spirit — 2nd date {Kinda}!! + Spirit gets her period
Feverish Birdie + Isaac & Spirit caretakers
The Ask Game!!
Crampy and burpy Aiden + soft & flustered Spirit
Atticus & Keiko both get food poisoning on a double date
Feverish Isaac + Isaac’s grandma & Keiko caretakers
Overworked Keiko + Caretakers Amberlynn & Jordan
Spirit with a stress migraine + caretaker Oliver
Meeting Eliana’s family+ stomach flu + major angst (part 1)
Eliana’s stomach flu (part 2)
{A few years back} Spirit has a breakdown + multiple caretakers
Spirit’s appendicitis fic
Overstuffed Keiko on a date + Caretaker Amberlynn + FLUFFF
Burpy & feverish Aiden + Isaac & Oliver caretakers
Oliver has food poisoning + Isaac caretaker
Spirit has a panic attack because of Zeke + multiple protective caretakers (part 1) (part 2)
Stressed Amberlynn gets food poisoning + Felix caretaker + Fluffy Keiko
Halloween Series
Aiden overindulges on candy
Oliver gets jealous at event + IsaacxOliver!!
Atticus wants attention *no whump*
Friendsgiving: Oliver x Isaac announce they’re together
Spirit’s mom shows up + migraine fic
Migraine fic Part 2
Birdie forgets her meds + lil argument with Spirit
Oliver has high fever and is overworked + caretaker Isaac
Isaac has a migraine (mini-fic)
Spirit has food poisoning + Aiden caretaker
Vacation Series
Carsick Oliver + caretaker Isaac
Spirit’s phobia - part 1
Feverish Atticus + guilty Felix - part 1
Eliana talks to Aaron about him coming out (Nolan intro!)
Spirit’s phobia - part 2
Keiko gets heatstroke/sunburn
Atticus & Felix - part 2
Oliver stirred slightly. He felt wrong. He didn’t know why.
Hiss-click. Hiss-click.
He felt heavy. His chest felt strange. Parts of his body were sore and stiff, and his throat. . .
His throat.
Something was in his throat.
Oliver’s eyes flew open, wide with panic as he gagged and coughed around the strange tube in his mouth, strapped to his face. His arms moved to pull at it, but he was too weak and couldn’t even grip it with his stiff fingers. He sobbed and screamed, all sounds muffled by the plastic. He couldn’t breathe. Shit, he couldn’t fucking breathe!
He twitched, hands trembling, back lifting off the mattress. He felt trapped in his own body. He wanted to get out. He had to get out! Another strangled sound came from him, snot and tears and drool collecting where his mouth was closed around the tube.
A chair toppled over, the sound making him jump and whimper.
“Baby—! Hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
The voice made Oliver still for a second. Through the tears blurring in his eyes, he looked up at the blurry figure standing over him. He blinked a few times, his mom’s face becoming clear. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her black waves were pulled back into the messiest bun he’d ever seen. Still, she smiled at him gently, laying one hand on his chest and pushing back his hair with the other. “You’re alright, baby boy. Just relax.” She gently rubbed his chest over the blanket. “Relax your chest. The tube is breathing for you.”
Oliver stared at his mom as he followed her instructions. As she said, he didn’t have to breathe for himself. He could literally feel air being pushed in and out of his lungs without him actually actively breathing. It was strange and incredibly uncomfortable. He swallowed around the tube, his face pinching in pain.
“Grace? Is he awake?” another voice asked, and Oliver’s eyes filled with even more tears.
His mom looked over her shoulder and nodded. Seconds later, Oliver saw his dad standing beside her. He looked even more disheveled than she did.
“Hey, Ollie,” his dad said softly.
Oliver whimpered around the tube as he started crying again at the sight of his parents.
“Easy, Ollie,” his dad said softly, grabbing Oliver’s shaking hand, though his own voice became thick with emotion. Oliver had definitely inherited his dad’s crybaby tendencies. “Easy. You’re okay.”
“Lance, go tell the nurse he’s awake,” Grace instructed. His dad nodded, sniffing as he left.
His mom grabbed a towel from somewhere and gently dried Oliver’s face. In minutes his dad came back with a familiar nurse—Anaiya.
She came over to him, speaking gently as she checked his vitals. He flinched when she checked his eyes with a light pen. Then, he gagged and coughed, sputtering around the tube when he tried to speak. His mom used the towel to dab around his mouth again.
“Don’t talk right now, honey,” Anaiya said softly. “The ventilator is just giving your lungs a little rest, okay?”
Ventilator.
He was told this might happen.
Suddenly, the memory of what had happened flooded his mind. The terror of not being able to breathe, Isaac screaming and crying his name, all of the nurses, his friends rushing in, Isaac screaming, Isaac sobbing, Isaac’s cries and the sound of his racing heart monitor being the last things he heard before everything went dark. . .
Once again, he felt his eyes filling with tears.
Isaac.
He wanted Issac.
He wanted his best friend to be here with him.
Where is Isaac? He suddenly thought, looking around the room and realizing none of his friends were there.
Again, he tried to talk. It made the pain in his throat worse.
“Hold on,” Anaiya said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a blank notepad and a pen. She laid the notepad under his hand, and then helped him get a grip on the pen. “Go ahead and write whatever you want to say.”
Though he couldn’t see the pad while laying down, his hand moved anyway, shakily writing just one word.
Issac?
Grace read the word and smiled softly, looking her son in the eye as she continued to pet his hair away from his face. “He just went home to get some rest, sweetheart. He’ll be back before you know it. Your friends, too.”
He nodded, shutting his eyes. He could go back to sleep, right? He heard the Hiss-click of the ventilator as it breathed for him, not really listening as Nurse Anaiya said something to his parents about. . . bruising? The adrenaline rush that came with his earlier panic faded almost instantly, pulling him quickly back into sleep.
— — —
Birdie knocked on the door to Isaac’s apartment, a bag from the pharmacy in her hand.
Spirit answered the door, looking tired and worried.
“How is he?” Birdie asked, but she felt as if she already knew the answer.
Spirit sighed and stepped aside so Birdie could come in. “Well, I’d suggest that you avoid his room and bathroom for a while,” Spirit told her, grimacing slightly.
Before Birdie could ask what she meant, Amberlynn came out of Isaac’s room with his sheets and duvet all balled up, carrying them to his laundry room. Realization dawned on Birdie’s face and she busied herself in his kitchen, pulling stuff out of the bag, sorting the gatorade in his fridge and searching for his medicine cabinet, doing whatever she could to still be helpful while avoiding anywhere where there’s vomiting.
Spirit went back to Isaac’s room, where Jordan and El were already both putting new sheets on Isaac’s bed, and then to his bathroom. He was draped over the toilet, head sagging with exhaustion as he sobbed and weakly heaved over the bowl. Keiko was crouched beside him, wiping his face with a cooled rag.
“Should we get him back in bed?” Keiko asked.
Spirit shook her head. “Not yet. Just another minute, they’re still setting up the fresh sheets.”
He nodded, turning his focus back to Isaac. “Hey, dude. How’re you holding up right now.”
Isaac said nothing, staring at the swirling water that rippled wherever his tears landed in it. His face was red from crying and fever.
After passing out during his panic attack, a nurse helped them bring him out of the room. He woke up in minutes, on a spare bed conveniently left in the hallway, just outside the room, his red eyes searching wildly for Oliver. The nurse asked them all to wait outside the room. The frantic voices emanating through the door only instilled more fear, and Isaac’s face became devoid of all color, another panic attack already starting.
So, for Isaac’s sake, Spirit took him home.
He refused at first, yelling and crying and stating that he wasn’t leaving Oliver. Spirit damn-near had to drag him out of the hospital. After that, he went quiet. Within an hour, he was burning up with a stress fever.
Eliana, Jordan, Birdie and Amberlynn all drove over from the university together after Spirit called them, all of them staying with Isaac as he laid on his bed and stared at the wall like a statue. They all waited for news on Oliver to come from Keiko.
The news that Oliver was stable but on a ventilator hadn’t made Isaac say anything. He just teared up, crying silently into his pillow. He cried till he slept.
Keko left the hospital when Oliver’s parents got there, coming over to Isaac’s place around nine at night.
Around 11, Birdie went out to pick up stuff from the 24-hour pharmacy, and not long after she left, Isaac woke up from a nightmare, gasping for breath and vomiting all over his sheets. They got him to the bathroom in time to bring up the rest of whatever was in his stomach.
That brings them to now. Spirit and Kai looked at each other, frowning deeply. None of them had ever seen Isaac like this. To Spirit, it reminded her of herself in high school, only without the desire to drown herself in cheap alcohol to numb the pain and fear. Instead, the only thing Isaac was drunk on was the exhaustion that comes with one panic attack after another and another and another in just a few days. Panic attacks were a helluva drug.
Isaac swayed, and Keiko shifted himself so Isaac could sag against him. Jordan called from the bedroom that the bed was made up, so Keiko spoke to Isaac again. “Ready?”
Isaac, again, said nothing. But, at least, he shrugged ever so slightly.
“Need help?” Spirit asked Keiko.
He shook his head, hugging Isaac to his side. “I’ve got him.”
Spirit nodded, walking out of the bathroom.
Jordan and El weren’t in the bedroom anymore. She found them, as well as Birdie and Amberlynn, in Isaac’s living room, all silent. They all looked up at Spirit as she walked over. Jordan was curled up on El’s side on one end of the couch, and Amberlynn had taken the other end. Birdie sat on a beanbag on the floor. Spirit walked to the middle of the floor and all but flopped down, star-fished on Isaac’s hard-wood floor.
“Pillow,” Jordan mumbled, and a cushion landed on Spirit’s face a second later. With a sigh, she put it under her head.
“How is he?” Amberlynn asked.
Spirit stared up at the spinning ceiling fan. “Honestly. . . I don’t know. I just hope he sleeps through the rest of the night. God knows, he needs the rest.”
Silence fell over them all again. Spirit didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke up with two blankets tossed over her around five in the morning, when it was still dark. Birdie was snoring on the bean bag, and Jordan and Eliana had fully stretched out on Isaac’s couch together. Amberlynn was gone, but she had a likely suspicion that Keiko had brought her to Isaac’s guest room so they could both sleep there.
A sound made Spirit jolt. The sound of keys jingling, and Isaac’s front door shutting.
She looked across the dark room and saw Isaac’s bedroom door wide open. She cursed under her breath, getting to her feet and rushing to the front door, and all but running out of his apartment and down the hallway.
In the hallway, she saw Isaac as he was about to press the button for his apartment’s elevator, wearing a hoodie over his pajamas and flip-flops on his feet. He froze when he saw Spirit, frowning when he realized he was caught. Wet streaks on his face told Spirit that he’d been crying again.
She sighed, walking the rest of the way over to him. She stopped, holding out her hand. “Keys. Now.”
He cursed, mumbling something under his breath as he handed his car keys over to her.
She nodded over her shoulder. “C’mon, Isaac. Just go back to bed and sleep a little longer. I promise, later today we’ll go back to the hospital to see Oliver.”
“I have to see him,” Isaac mumbled.
“You will—”
“No, I have to see him now,” Isaac repeated, speaking a little louder as his emotions got the better of him. “I have to— Please, I need to see him.” His eyes were once again filling with tears, his breaths becoming shaky and quick.
“Shit,” Spirit cursed, pocketing Isaac’s key so she could put both of her hands on his shoulders, stepping right in front of him. “Isaac, calm down. Everything is fine. Oliver’s fine, Isaac, so just—”
“No, n-no nonono—” he started trembling. “He- He’s not okay. He’s d-dying.” He shook his head, looking at Spirit with tearful, angry, terrified eyes. “I-I saw,” he whined, voice wavering with emotion. “He’s dying, Spirit. I have to— I need to go, right now.”
She shook her head. “Isaac, he’s fine.”
“B-but I saw—”
“His parents would’ve called Kei if anything happened to him,” she explained. “Isaac, you had a nightmare. He’s stable now. He’s fine.”
Isaac’s bottom lip trembled. She was astonished that he had any tears left. “But he. . .”
“He’s fine,” she repeated, her voice softening, her grip on his shoulders loosening as she moved, pulling him closer. She held him close, squeezing him tightly for who knows how long. He buried his face in her neck, his arms tentatively coming around her middle as he returned her embrace. She felt his body shake with soft sobs. She’d certainly never been a sympathy crier, but at this moment, she felt tears stinging in her eyes as well.
She had no idea how long they stayed like that. Eventually, she coaxed him back to his apartment. Everyone was still asleep as they walked through to his bedroom.
“Get some more sleep,” she told him as he climbed back under his sheets. “I promise, we’ll see him in just a few more hours. But you really need to rest, Isaac.”
He nodded, curling up around his pillow. She was about to leave when he called her name quietly. She looked at him, finding him looking at her with puffy, exhausted eyes. “Can you stay?” he asked, sounding so uncharacteristically small.
She nodded, walking over. She climbed onto his bed, on top of the covers, sitting back against his headboard. Under any other circumstances, she would’ve teased him for being clingy, as he would’ve done the same to her, but this wasn’t clinginess. It was vulnerability, plain and simple.
So she stayed. She stayed as his breathing slowly evened out. She stayed for hours, watching the color of the light change from orange to yellow through the seam of the curtains in Isaac’s room. She stayed, silently nodding her head at Keiko when he stuck his head in at some point to check on Isaac.
She stayed. As long as he needed her, she stayed.
— — —
Isaac put his yellow visitor sticker on this shirt, walking alongside the rest of his friends towards Oliver’s room. He actually found himself walking a few paces ahead of them, or maybe they were all hanging back.
They found Grace and Lance, Oliver’s parents, in the hallway waiting for them. Grace looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink all night, and her husband didn’t look much better. They were going home to rest for a bit now that they knew Oliver was stable, and in good hands. Before they left, Grace pulled Isaac into a hug. “I forgot to thank you for taking care of him,” she said. “He’s so lucky to have you in his life, honey.”
Down the hallway, at the door to Oliver’s room, Isaac froze, his chest twisting. He knew that Oliver was on a ventilator now. Still, knowing that, he didn’t think he was prepared for it.
But still, more than anything, he wanted to see Oliver. To be with him.
“Go ahead,” Spirit said, and Isaac turned to look at her and the rest of his friends.
“We’ll wait out here for a bit,” Amberlynn told him.
Looking at them, he allowed himself to smile. He nodded and looked back at the door, and he took a deep breath before pushing it open.
The room was silent besides a mechanical Hiss-click Hiss-click sound. Isaac froze upon seeing Oliver.
He looked impossibly small in his bed, hooked up to wires and, of course, the ventilator sticking out of his mouth. His eyes were barely open as he stared up at the ceiling, and for a second Isaac wondered if he was sedated.
But then, without even thinking, Isaac whispered, “Olive?”
Oliver’s eyes widened, he tried to move his head, though the ventilator no doubt hindered his ability to do that. Isaac was at his bedside in seconds, taking Oliver’s hand and tearfully smiling down at him. “Hey, baby,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion.
Oliver made a sound that Isaac had a strong feeling was his name. Isaac only sobbed louder, still smiling, which made Oliver’s eyes fill with tears as well. Isaac lifted Oliver’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “I’m here, Olive,” he whispered in the quiet of the room. “I’m right here.”
Oliver stirred slightly. He felt wrong. He didn’t know why.
Hiss-click. Hiss-click.
He felt heavy. His chest felt strange. Parts of his body were sore and stiff, and his throat. . .
His throat.
Something was in his throat.
Oliver’s eyes flew open, wide with panic as he gagged and coughed around the strange tube in his mouth, strapped to his face. His arms moved to pull at it, but he was too weak and couldn’t even grip it with his stiff fingers. He sobbed and screamed, all sounds muffled by the plastic. He couldn’t breathe. Shit, he couldn’t fucking breathe!
He twitched, hands trembling, back lifting off the mattress. He felt trapped in his own body. He wanted to get out. He had to get out! Another strangled sound came from him, snot and tears and drool collecting where his mouth was closed around the tube.
A chair toppled over, the sound making him jump and whimper.
“Baby—! Hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
The voice made Oliver still for a second. Through the tears blurring in his eyes, he looked up at the blurry figure standing over him. He blinked a few times, his mom’s face becoming clear. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her black waves were pulled back into the messiest bun he’d ever seen. Still, she smiled at him gently, laying one hand on his chest and pushing back his hair with the other. “You’re alright, baby boy. Just relax.” She gently rubbed his chest over the blanket. “Relax your chest. The tube is breathing for you.”
Oliver stared at his mom as he followed her instructions. As she said, he didn’t have to breathe for himself. He could literally feel air being pushed in and out of his lungs without him actually actively breathing. It was strange and incredibly uncomfortable. He swallowed around the tube, his face pinching in pain.
“Grace? Is he awake?” another voice asked, and Oliver’s eyes filled with even more tears.
His mom looked over her shoulder and nodded. Seconds later, Oliver saw his dad standing beside her. He looked even more disheveled than she did.
“Hey, Ollie,” his dad said softly.
Oliver whimpered around the tube as he started crying again at the sight of his parents.
“Easy, Ollie,” his dad said softly, grabbing Oliver’s shaking hand, though his own voice became thick with emotion. Oliver had definitely inherited his dad’s crybaby tendencies. “Easy. You’re okay.”
“Lance, go tell the nurse he’s awake,” Grace instructed. His dad nodded, sniffing as he left.
His mom grabbed a towel from somewhere and gently dried Oliver’s face. In minutes his dad came back with a familiar nurse—Anaiya.
She came over to him, speaking gently as she checked his vitals. He flinched when she checked his eyes with a light pen. Then, he gagged and coughed, sputtering around the tube when he tried to speak. His mom used the towel to dab around his mouth again.
“Don’t talk right now, honey,” Anaiya said softly. “The ventilator is just giving your lungs a little rest, okay?”
Ventilator.
He was told this might happen.
Suddenly, the memory of what had happened flooded his mind. The terror of not being able to breathe, Isaac screaming and crying his name, all of the nurses, his friends rushing in, Isaac screaming, Isaac sobbing, Isaac’s cries and the sound of his racing heart monitor being the last things he heard before everything went dark. . .
Once again, he felt his eyes filling with tears.
Isaac.
He wanted Issac.
He wanted his best friend to be here with him.
Where is Isaac? He suddenly thought, looking around the room and realizing none of his friends were there.
Again, he tried to talk. It made the pain in his throat worse.
“Hold on,” Anaiya said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a blank notepad and a pen. She laid the notepad under his hand, and then helped him get a grip on the pen. “Go ahead and write whatever you want to say.”
Though he couldn’t see the pad while laying down, his hand moved anyway, shakily writing just one word.
Issac?
Grace read the word and smiled softly, looking her son in the eye as she continued to pet his hair away from his face. “He just went home to get some rest, sweetheart. He’ll be back before you know it. Your friends, too.”
He nodded, shutting his eyes. He could go back to sleep, right? He heard the Hiss-click of the ventilator as it breathed for him, not really listening as Nurse Anaiya said something to his parents about. . . bruising? The adrenaline rush that came with his earlier panic faded almost instantly, pulling him quickly back into sleep.
— — —
Birdie knocked on the door to Isaac’s apartment, a bag from the pharmacy in her hand.
Spirit answered the door, looking tired and worried.
“How is he?” Birdie asked, but she felt as if she already knew the answer.
Spirit sighed and stepped aside so Birdie could come in. “Well, I’d suggest that you avoid his room and bathroom for a while,” Spirit told her, grimacing slightly.
Before Birdie could ask what she meant, Amberlynn came out of Isaac’s room with his sheets and duvet all balled up, carrying them to his laundry room. Realization dawned on Birdie’s face and she busied herself in his kitchen, pulling stuff out of the bag, sorting the gatorade in his fridge and searching for his medicine cabinet, doing whatever she could to still be helpful while avoiding anywhere where there’s vomiting.
Spirit went back to Isaac’s room, where Jordan and El were already both putting new sheets on Isaac’s bed, and then to his bathroom. He was draped over the toilet, head sagging with exhaustion as he sobbed and weakly heaved over the bowl. Keiko was crouched beside him, wiping his face with a cooled rag.
“Should we get him back in bed?” Keiko asked.
Spirit shook her head. “Not yet. Just another minute, they’re still setting up the fresh sheets.”
He nodded, turning his focus back to Isaac. “Hey, dude. How’re you holding up right now.”
Isaac said nothing, staring at the swirling water that rippled wherever his tears landed in it. His face was red from crying and fever.
After passing out during his panic attack, a nurse helped them bring him out of the room. He woke up in minutes, on a spare bed conveniently left in the hallway, just outside the room, his red eyes searching wildly for Oliver. The nurse asked them all to wait outside the room. The frantic voices emanating through the door only instilled more fear, and Isaac’s face became devoid of all color, another panic attack already starting.
So, for Isaac’s sake, Spirit took him home.
He refused at first, yelling and crying and stating that he wasn’t leaving Oliver. Spirit damn-near had to drag him out of the hospital. After that, he went quiet. Within an hour, he was burning up with a stress fever.
Eliana, Jordan, Birdie and Amberlynn all drove over from the university together after Spirit called them, all of them staying with Isaac as he laid on his bed and stared at the wall like a statue. They all waited for news on Oliver to come from Keiko.
The news that Oliver was stable but on a ventilator hadn’t made Isaac say anything. He just teared up, crying silently into his pillow. He cried till he slept.
Keko left the hospital when Oliver’s parents got there, coming over to Isaac’s place around nine at night.
Around 11, Birdie went out to pick up stuff from the 24-hour pharmacy, and not long after she left, Isaac woke up from a nightmare, gasping for breath and vomiting all over his sheets. They got him to the bathroom in time to bring up the rest of whatever was in his stomach.
That brings them to now. Spirit and Kai looked at each other, frowning deeply. None of them had ever seen Isaac like this. To Spirit, it reminded her of herself in high school, only without the desire to drown herself in cheap alcohol to numb the pain and fear. Instead, the only thing Isaac was drunk on was the exhaustion that comes with one panic attack after another and another and another in just a few days. Panic attacks were a helluva drug.
Isaac swayed, and Keiko shifted himself so Isaac could sag against him. Jordan called from the bedroom that the bed was made up, so Keiko spoke to Isaac again. “Ready?”
Isaac, again, said nothing. But, at least, he shrugged ever so slightly.
“Need help?” Spirit asked Keiko.
He shook his head, hugging Isaac to his side. “I’ve got him.”
Spirit nodded, walking out of the bathroom.
Jordan and El weren’t in the bedroom anymore. She found them, as well as Birdie and Amberlynn, in Isaac’s living room, all silent. They all looked up at Spirit as she walked over. Jordan was curled up on El’s side on one end of the couch, and Amberlynn had taken the other end. Birdie sat on a beanbag on the floor. Spirit walked to the middle of the floor and all but flopped down, star-fished on Isaac’s hard-wood floor.
“Pillow,” Jordan mumbled, and a cushion landed on Spirit’s face a second later. With a sigh, she put it under her head.
“How is he?” Amberlynn asked.
Spirit stared up at the spinning ceiling fan. “Honestly. . . I don’t know. I just hope he sleeps through the rest of the night. God knows, he needs the rest.”
Silence fell over them all again. Spirit didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke up with two blankets tossed over her around five in the morning, when it was still dark. Birdie was snoring on the bean bag, and Jordan and Eliana had fully stretched out on Isaac’s couch together. Amberlynn was gone, but she had a likely suspicion that Keiko had brought her to Isaac’s guest room so they could both sleep there.
A sound made Spirit jolt. The sound of keys jingling, and Isaac’s front door shutting.
She looked across the dark room and saw Isaac’s bedroom door wide open. She cursed under her breath, getting to her feet and rushing to the front door, and all but running out of his apartment and down the hallway.
In the hallway, she saw Isaac as he was about to press the button for his apartment’s elevator, wearing a hoodie over his pajamas and flip-flops on his feet. He froze when he saw Spirit, frowning when he realized he was caught. Wet streaks on his face told Spirit that he’d been crying again.
She sighed, walking the rest of the way over to him. She stopped, holding out her hand. “Keys. Now.”
He cursed, mumbling something under his breath as he handed his car keys over to her.
She nodded over her shoulder. “C’mon, Isaac. Just go back to bed and sleep a little longer. I promise, later today we’ll go back to the hospital to see Oliver.”
“I have to see him,” Isaac mumbled.
“You will—”
“No, I have to see him now,” Isaac repeated, speaking a little louder as his emotions got the better of him. “I have to— Please, I need to see him.” His eyes were once again filling with tears, his breaths becoming shaky and quick.
“Shit,” Spirit cursed, pocketing Isaac’s key so she could put both of her hands on his shoulders, stepping right in front of him. “Isaac, calm down. Everything is fine. Oliver’s fine, Isaac, so just—”
“No, n-no nonono—” he started trembling. “He- He’s not okay. He’s d-dying.” He shook his head, looking at Spirit with tearful, angry, terrified eyes. “I-I saw,” he whined, voice wavering with emotion. “He’s dying, Spirit. I have to— I need to go, right now.”
She shook her head. “Isaac, he’s fine.”
“B-but I saw—”
“His parents would’ve called Kei if anything happened to him,” she explained. “Isaac, you had a nightmare. He’s stable now. He’s fine.”
Isaac’s bottom lip trembled. She was astonished that he had any tears left. “But he. . .”
“He’s fine,” she repeated, her voice softening, her grip on his shoulders loosening as she moved, pulling him closer. She held him close, squeezing him tightly for who knows how long. He buried his face in her neck, his arms tentatively coming around her middle as he returned her embrace. She felt his body shake with soft sobs. She’d certainly never been a sympathy crier, but at this moment, she felt tears stinging in her eyes as well.
She had no idea how long they stayed like that. Eventually, she coaxed him back to his apartment. Everyone was still asleep as they walked through to his bedroom.
“Get some more sleep,” she told him as he climbed back under his sheets. “I promise, we’ll see him in just a few more hours. But you really need to rest, Isaac.”
He nodded, curling up around his pillow. She was about to leave when he called her name quietly. She looked at him, finding him looking at her with puffy, exhausted eyes. “Can you stay?” he asked, sounding so uncharacteristically small.
She nodded, walking over. She climbed onto his bed, on top of the covers, sitting back against his headboard. Under any other circumstances, she would’ve teased him for being clingy, as he would’ve done the same to her, but this wasn’t clinginess. It was vulnerability, plain and simple.
So she stayed. She stayed as his breathing slowly evened out. She stayed for hours, watching the color of the light change from orange to yellow through the seam of the curtains in Isaac’s room. She stayed, silently nodding her head at Keiko when he stuck his head in at some point to check on Isaac.
She stayed. As long as he needed her, she stayed.
— — —
Isaac put his yellow visitor sticker on this shirt, walking alongside the rest of his friends towards Oliver’s room. He actually found himself walking a few paces ahead of them, or maybe they were all hanging back.
They found Grace and Lance, Oliver’s parents, in the hallway waiting for them. Grace looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink all night, and her husband didn’t look much better. They were going home to rest for a bit now that they knew Oliver was stable, and in good hands. Before they left, Grace pulled Isaac into a hug. “I forgot to thank you for taking care of him,” she said. “He’s so lucky to have you in his life, honey.”
Down the hallway, at the door to Oliver’s room, Isaac froze, his chest twisting. He knew that Oliver was on a ventilator now. Still, knowing that, he didn’t think he was prepared for it.
But still, more than anything, he wanted to see Oliver. To be with him.
“Go ahead,” Spirit said, and Isaac turned to look at her and the rest of his friends.
“We’ll wait out here for a bit,” Amberlynn told him.
Looking at them, he allowed himself to smile. He nodded and looked back at the door, and he took a deep breath before pushing it open.
The room was silent besides a mechanical Hiss-click Hiss-click sound. Isaac froze upon seeing Oliver.
He looked impossibly small in his bed, hooked up to wires and, of course, the ventilator sticking out of his mouth. His eyes were barely open as he stared up at the ceiling, and for a second Isaac wondered if he was sedated.
But then, without even thinking, Isaac whispered, “Olive?”
Oliver’s eyes widened, he tried to move his head, though the ventilator no doubt hindered his ability to do that. Isaac was at his bedside in seconds, taking Oliver’s hand and tearfully smiling down at him. “Hey, baby,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion.
Oliver made a sound that Isaac had a strong feeling was his name. Isaac only sobbed louder, still smiling, which made Oliver’s eyes fill with tears as well. Isaac lifted Oliver’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “I’m here, Olive,” he whispered in the quiet of the room. “I’m right here.”
“I smell plastic,” Oliver complained about the nasal cannula, scrunching up his nose.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Spirit scoffed, poking the tip of his nose. “Ya got plastic tubes up your nostrils.”
“Did you just boop me?”
She shrugged.
A gameshow Oliver had never heard of was playing on mute on the TV in his room. Sitting up against several pillows with cards on his lap, he’d been letting Spirit teach him how to play I Declare War, and she was kicking his ass at it.
“I’m sick. Go easy on me,” he pouted. She smirked, and put down a card to counter his 10-of-diamonds.
Her card was an Ace.
He groaned. “You suck.”
“Love ya too.”
They continued to play. Oliver managed to steal back a few more cards, but ultimately ended up losing again. Again-again. For the fifth time.
Spirit, for no one’s eyes but his (and he’d never bring it up if he wanted to avoid the wrath of the hot-head) did a stupid little victory dance that had him bursting out laughing. He laughed a little too hard for his lungs to handle and started coughing though, making Spirit stop suddenly, guilt flashing across her face.
He held up a hand when she started to reach for the call button beside his bed, chuckling between wheezes and coughs. "I'm fine,” he managed at last, still smiling. “It’s just a bit of coughing.”
She frowned. Those coughs didn’t sound good.
Before she could say anything though, the door to Oliver’s room opened, three people all coming in with bags of food.
“Panera is here!” Isaac said, striking a pose with a to-go bag in one hand and Oliver’s favorite blueberry-lavender lemonade in the other. When he threw out one of his arms for the pose, he nearly decked Birdie in the face, but his arm went high enough and she was short enough that she ducked easily. The blonde cringed and apologized.
Aiden chuckled from behind them, his glasses perched on top of his head, pushing his hair back in a way that had Spirit staring longer than she intended to, earning a poke in the side and a cheeky smirk from her bed-ridden gremlin of a friend.
“Got you your green tea,” Birdie said, handing the iced drink to Spirit. “And brownies for all!” She held up the bag she was holding.
All the bags and drinks wound up on the little counter in the corner of the room, Birdie and Spirit rummaging through everything while Aiden hugged Spirit from behind, chin resting on top of her hair. Isaac busied himself with adjusting the overbed table for Oliver, and making sure he was sitting up comfortably.
“Hi,” Oliver said with a tired smile, watching Isaac fuss. Isaac returned the smile, leaning in to kiss Oliver’s forehead (kisses on the lips were out of the question till he was pneumonia-free). Isaac’s smile faltered slightly, not liking one bit how warm Oliver still was, but he knew the antibiotics still had to run their course.
“Hey, Olive. Are you feeling alright?”
Oliver nodded, taking a deep breath real quick when his chest started to feel heavy. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just tired.”
“Not nauseous?”
Oliver shook his head.
Spirit came over with a little cardboard bowl of soup, a plastic spoon, and Oliver’s lemonade. He smiled and thanked her as she put them on the table for him.
Isaac walked away to grab his own food, spending a minute looking at each of the sandwiches before finding his Italian sub. He took the chair by Oliver’s bed; the chair Spirit had been sitting in before.
Birdie got comfy on the floor with her grilled cheese, and Spirit and Aiden took the little couch in the room. Oliver watched his friends, chuckling as Spirit dunked the corner of her veggie sandwich in Aiden’s strangely orange-colored soup that he couldn’t recall the name of.
Oliver reached for his spoon. His stomach felt weird, but he chalked it up to just being hungry. However, as he looked down at the soup in front of him, he felt something uneasy in his gut. He frowned, putting down the spoon and grabbing his lemonade instead.
He took a few sips before grabbing the spoon again, deciding to try the soup. He tried it with a noodle and a carrot the first time, but chewed that one bite for a bit too long. It settled in his stomach like a brick. After that, he just took little sips of the broth.
“You okay?” Isaac asked softly, making Oliver jolt and he wondered if he spaced out. Oliver frowned, wondering where Isaac’s sandwich was. A quick look at the rest of his friends told him they’d all finished eating, and his soup was still almost full.
He frowned, putting down his spoon and pushing the overbed table back a bit. “Not hungry,” he mumbled.
Isaac bit the inside of his cheek, frowning at Oliver. “Can you take just a few more bites, baby?”
Oliver shook his head, feeling his cheeks flush at all the eyes suddenly on him. He sighed, laying back against the pillows and turning on his side, away from them. The movement jostled his chest and he coughed a few times. He figured it was another small fit, but the coughs only got harsher and wetter, making his chest ache.
“Olive?” Isaac said, his voice panicked.
Oliver tried to answer. Instead, he wheezed.
“Shit,” Isaac cursed, hitting the emergency button by the bed. Oliver heard his friends’ panicked voices as he coughed. The door opened and suddenly there were gloved hands helping him sit up, coaxing him to lean forward and someone took the tubes out of his nose. He felt the familiar feeling of the mask covering his mouth and nose. Something was pushed into his IV. He kept coughing, but it was starting to slow. The mask pushed more oxygen into his system than the nasal cannula did, and whatever was put in his IV was making him start to feel numb. His eyes drooped slightly.
One of the nurses—a sweet, young nurse named Anaiya—spoke to him calmly as she eased the mask’s straps around his head. “Let’s keep this on for a bit, okay sweetie?” she said, easing him back against the pillows. She used the remote to lower the bed into a more comfortable position.
Oliver was still awake, but his entire body felt heavy and tired. The other nurses left, but Anaiya stayed, walking over to Isaac and the others.
He tried to listen, but his head felt fuzzy and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He let out a couple of small coughs, and let himself fall asleep.
-- -- --
Oliver woke up with the mask still on, and someone standing beside his bed.
“Isaac?” he mumbled, blinking blearily in the dimmed room. Why’s it so dark?
“Hey,” the person said, but the voice wasn’t Isaac’s. Oliver blinked a few more times before Keiko’s face became clear. “How’re you feeling?”
Oliver just blinked for a second before looking around the room, frowning behind the mask. “Where. . . Isaac. . ?”
Keiko gave him a small, worried smile. “He’ll be back soon. How does your chest feel?”
Oliver pouted. He took a deep breath to try and figure out an answer to that. “Okay. But. . . heavy.”
“Not painful?”
Oliver shook his head. “I feel. . . weird. Tingly.”
“That’ll be the sedative,” Keiko sighed. Something grave crossed his face, and Oliver felt the nervousness practically rolling off of his friend in waves.
“Kei?”
Keiko sighed. “There’s something you need to know,” he said softly. “There’s no point in beating around the bush about this. Your doctor came in not too long ago and explained to us that if you go into respiratory failure again, there’s a chance you’ll end up on a ventilator. It’s, like, a tube that breathes for you.”
Oliver felt his blood run cold. Just picturing it terrified him. Was he that sick?
Thinking about it made his stomach churn. His head spun and he suddenly gagged behind the mask. Keiko moved quickly, grabbing an emesis bin left beside the bed and helping Oliver sit up. He managed to pull the mask off in time before Oliver brought up the pathetic amount of soup he’d eaten.
He groaned, and Keiko gave him a cup of water to rinse his mouth with.
“Here, lay back.” Keiko helped him settle against the pillows once more, and then put the mask back on properly.
“Why’re you here?” Oliver asked tiredly. “Didn’t you have classes today?”
Keiko shrugged. “Atticus said he’d record the lecture for me. I was needed here.”
Silence stretched. Oliver listened to the steady beeping of his heart monitor. He felt tired and scared and he wanted. . .
“Where’re my parents?” he asked in a small voice. “You guys called them, right?”
Keiko nodded. “I think your parents said they were on some kind of trip. They’re still trying to get a flight back, but almost everything is booked.”
Oh, right, Oliver thought. He remembered his parents talking about wanting to take one of those around-the-world cruises. They’d been planning and saving up for this kind of trip since he was accepted into college. And now I’m ruining their dream trip, he thought guiltily.
“Want to talk to them? I can call them for you if you-”
“No.” He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “No, I don’t wanna.” They’ll be worried about me and they’ll be so nice and assuring. But they should be having fun together, not dealing with my sickness.
With a deep breath—made much easier by the mask—Oliver looked at Keiko and asked, “Where’s Isaac, Keiko?”
He hesitated, looking like he didn’t want to say anything, and Oliver frowned at him. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Birdie took him outside for some fresh air after he… he had a few panic attacks while you were out,” he admitted. Oliver’s eyes widened as Keiko continued, “Spirit called me after the first. He had more… intense one after the doctor came and told us about the possibility of the ventilator. He was shaken, but refused to leave you, so we coaxed him into taking a quick walk outside.”
In all the years that he’d known Isaac, since they were just little kids, his best friend had never had a panic attack. Hell, the guy rarely even cried! Oliver himself had a few panic attacks throughout the years, but Isaac had always been sturdy. Optimistic. Far braver than he could ever hope to be.
Had he scared him that badly?
Tears filled his eyes, guilt weighing on him like a ton of bricks. “I hate this,” he whimpered, shoulders shaking as he started to cry.
Keiko put a hand on his arm, rubbing softly. “I know,” he said. “It sucks, I know.”
-- -- --
“Spirit wants to know what tea flavor you want,” Birdie said softly, phone in one hand and Isaac’s hand in her other.
Isaac shook his head. “I don’t want tea.”
Birdie typed that. Then Spirit responded.
“She says you’re getting a tea whether you want it or not.”
Isaac didn’t have the energy to be snarky or quippy in response. He just shrugged. Birdie typed something else before pocketing her phone and looking up at Isaac. Side-by-side with him, she probably looked like a middle schooler. She had to tilt her head pretty far up just to look at his face.
The skin around his eyes was red, rubbed raw. He was pale, but thankfully not as pale as he was earlier. Birdie squeezed his hand, and he looked at her. She stopped walking, so he stopped as well.
She hugged him.
He sighed, hugging back and fighting not to cry anymore. He doubted he had any more tears left anyway. It had been a stressful few days.
Birdie didn’t say anything, but her sheer presence was comforting enough. The beads in her newly-done braids jingled and clacked together whenever she moved. Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle as a breeze blew by, making the beads shift, the sound reminding him of a wind chime. Honestly, Birdie herself was just as calming as a wind chime. Human wind chime.
“You feel okay enough to go back in?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, letting go of her.
She took his hand again and they walked back into the building, showing the lady at the desk their visitor stickers as they went. There was a little cafe by the lobby, and Spirit and Aiden were sitting in the lobby with drinks in hand, talking. The couple stood as soon as they saw Birdie and Isaac.
Spirit walked over holding out a cup to him. “It’s green tea with lemon. Drink it. It’ll help, I promise.” Her voice was softer than normal, lacking the usual bite that somehow always managed to seep into all of their conversations.
He nodded, taking the cup without a word, giving her a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Keiko texted,” Aiden said to Isaac. “Oliver’s awake. He’s asking for you.”
Isaac felt something simultaneously lift and twist in his chest, and he nodded, unceremoniously handing the tea back to Spirit and starting towards the elevator. It took everything he had to not run.
The elevator moved too slow. He felt jittery, and when it stopped on the right floor, he was out before the doors even fully opened.
He took quick, long steps down the hallways until he got to Oliver’s room.
Oliver’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying and he still had the mask on, but he was sitting up against the pillows. Awake. Isaac could see the small smile on his face despite the mask.
Keiko was sitting in the chair beside the bed, but moved himself and the chair out of the way so Isaac could get to him, hugging him as tight as he could, careful so as to not hurt him somehow.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Oliver mumbled, voice scratchy from coughing.
Isaac shook his head, pulling away and leaning back in to press a long, loving kiss against his forehead. “Don’t be sorry, baby,” Isaac whispered against his skin. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Are you okay?”
Isaac froze for a second, then pulled away. Oliver looked worried about him. His eyes widened, filling with more tears, but he nodded, blinking the tears away. “I’m okay, Olive. Just worried, that’s all.”
Oliver didn’t look like he believed him.
Isaac heard his friends’ hushed voices, followed by the sound of the door clicking shut. He looked over his shoulder and saw that they’d all left, giving him and Oliver privacy.
“Isaac,” Oliver mumbled, getting the blonde’s attention again. “I’m cold.”
Isaac frowned, leaning in again to kiss Oliver’s forehead, but this time he was feeling how warm he was. He was borderline hot! Did his fever go up? Just the thought was enough to make Isaac’s chest clench and his eyes sting.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get you any more blankets, baby. Your fever is still really high.”
Oliver pouted, but nodded. “I’m gonna be okay, Isaac,” Oliver assured. “It’s just pneumonia. I basically have a cold on steroids.”
Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He nodded, but the worry didn’t ease.
Noticing, Oliver sighed and, despite the ache in his body, forced his limbs to push himself over to the side a bit. Issac’s eyes widened “What’re you—?” Oliver reached up and curled his fingers in the front of Isaac’s shirt.
“Cuddle me,” he said, more of a demand than a request.
After a moment of hesitation, Isaac did as told and carefully climbed in beside Oliver, laying on his side on the edge to give Oliver the most space. Carefully, as if Oliver were made of glass, he put his arm around his boyfriend and buried his face against his side, not wanting to put any weight on Oliver’s chest. Oliver kissed the top of his head, his hand coming to rest on Isaac’s back, rubbing softly.
Oliver could feel Isaac trembling, and it broke his heart.
Isaac stayed exactly where he was, curled carefully around Oliver’s side. He didn’t dare to move. Especially when he heard Oliver’s breaths even out, the sedative and general exhaustion pulling him back into sleep.
For a while, the only sound in the room was the steady beep…beep…beep of the heart monitor and the soft flow of oxygen through the mask.
Issac’s nerves were still buzzing from earlier. Every little sound Oliver made had his chest tightening.
But Oliver was breathing.
That’s what mattered.
He was breathing.
Isaac gave in to his own exhaustion, letting his eyes close for just a second.
-- -- --
Oliver stirred.
He felt heavy and sluggish from sleep. His head was pounding and his mouth felt dry, but something else was off…
He shifted, making Isaac stir a little as well. “Ol…” he trailed off, still half asleep.
Oliver shifted again, grimacing as he blinked sleepily at the dimmed room. What’s wrong with me?
He coughed. Just once, and it was just a little cough. Still, it was enough to wake Isaac up a little more. Listening to the sudden silence, Isaac frowned.
“Oliver?”
The heart monitor was beeping. It wasn’t entirely silent, but one sound was wrong…
Oliver gasped.
Isaac shot up onto one elbow, dipping the bed under his arm and making Oliver groan from the movement as he tried in vain to suck in a full breath, the mask doing fuck-all.
“No,” Isaac gasped, bolting out of the bed and frantically hitting the emergency button by the bed.
A wet, rattling sound escaped Oliver.
Isaac let out an agonized sound that barely sounded human.
The heart monitor began to speed up.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Oliver—?” Isaac’s voice cracked.
Nurses barged in. Oliver’s eyes were wide, glassy with fear and tears. His mouth was agape, frozen that way as he tried and failed to pull air into his lungs.
A nurse told Isaac to get back. He stumbled, falling flat on his as as he watched the nurses frantically work.
He could hear as Oliver tried to pull in another breath.
It rattled horribly in his chest.
Isaac felt something in his chest snap.
The heart monitor shrieked faster.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
“His sats are dropping.”
“Get a crash cart over here!”
Oliver made a horrible choking sound.
Isaac’s vision tunneled.
He couldn’t breathe.
The room spun.
His heart slammed painfully against his ribs.
Not again not again not again—!
Someone was talking to him.
“Isaac!”
He barely heard it.
“ISSAC!”
A hand grabbed his shoulders.
Keiko.
“Isaac, look at me!”
Isaac shook his head violently, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.
“He’s dying,” Isaac choked. “He’s dying—”
“He’s not,” Keiko said firmly, though the tears forming in his own eyes made Isaac believe otherwise.
Across the room Oliver was coughing weakly, desperate gasps growing terrifyingly weaker, nurses crowding around him.
“His oxygen’s still dropping.”
“Get the vent—”
Isaac couldn’t hear the rest.
His chest locked.
His hands started shaking uncontrollably.
“I can’t— I can’t—” he gasped, clawing at his own shirt. He tore the neckline a little.
“Isaac, breathe! Jesus fuck, we need to get him out of here.” A different voice. Spirit.
“I can’t breathe—”
Keiko grabbed his face, forcing him to focus.
“Breathe with me.”
Isaac shook his head again, tears streaming down his face.
Across the room Oliver made a strangled, desperate sound.
Isaac’s vision blurred.
“I can’t—” he whimpered, voice slurring with tears.
The room spun harder.
His lungs refused to work.
No. His lungs worked. Oliver was the one struggling to breathe, lungs not working, dying—
Keiko cursed, hugging Isaac and trying to pull him to his feet..
He wasn't, really. He ate plenty of things and he was more than a decent cook, he knew how to use spices and tried different dishes regularly... Except certain things were just icky.
Like fucking snails and slugs that Jonah ate. To this day just thinking about the fact he had eaten that once made him nauseated and sometimes even made Leo genuinely gag at the memory. He couldn't understand how Jon could possibly eat that.
On his day to day, though, this was not an issue. They meal prepped for the week — Leo did most of the cooking, Jonah bought the ingredients and cleaned the mess — in order to avoid the constant stream of junk food and deliveries. Leo did it partially because of the sheer amount of money that got drained away through deliveries, but Jon only was a part of it because of the health benefits. Either way, it was a win.
Today he was in the office, with his packed lunch. Nothing fancy, a poke bowl he had made twins with Jon's, with shredded chicken as well as all sorts of summery ingredients, such as cherry tomatoes, kiwi, mangoes, bell peppers and a generous scoop of cream cheese and gohan. It was a colorful, beautiful plate and he had been salivating over it the whole morning, his stomach was growling loudly as he went to the break room by lunch hour and fished out the bowl from their shared fridge.
"What are you doing tomorrow night, Leo?" Chuck asked, leaning on the opposite wall to him, as he waited for his meal to microwave. Another good thing about Leo's option was that he didn't need to heat it up.
"Nothing," Leo shrugged, "stay in, why?"
"It's a Friday, wanna grab a beer and watch the baseball game?"
Leo opened a pleased smile. While Lucas and Vin both played baseball and had joined the community team with Leo and his coworkers, only Chuck cared enough to actively watch the games, like Leo did.
"Sure! Absolutely!"
The microwave beeped and Leo waited for Chuck to retrieve his food container, as they moved to the lounge area to eat together. They were talking about teams and Leo was excitedly gesturing with his fork, when Dean skipped into the room and plopped on the chair next to Leo, with a pleased smile on.
"What are we talking about?" He asked, not one bit embarrassed or shy and Leo blushed on his behalf, wondering what life must be like for such extroverted people such as Dean or Lucas or Bell, who could just butt into conversations without feeling self conscious...
Granted, he wouldn't say Bella was extroverted, but she was certainly forward and immune to feeling embarrassed. It was a skill.
As he mused over this, Leo munched on the food absently minded, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork and the biting it- Only for his teeth to slide as he got a chewy piece that was just fat.
Immediately his appetite was out of the window and his body got covered in goosebumps. He gagged before his brain could fully compute what was happening, dropping his fork in a haste as he cupped a hand over his mouth and shot up from the table, running towards the toilets.
Vaguely, he heard Dean yelling after him, but his stomach had flipped with revulsion and Leo skipped inside the staff bathroom, pushing a stall open and dropping to his knees just as he coughed the half chewed piece and retched with enough force to bring up a mouthful of something chunky and vile.
His mind kept hiccupping over what he had just felt in his mouth, stuck in the sensation, and Leo gagged out of disgust, planting his elbows on the toilet seat as his whole body lurched forward.
There was a thump on his back and he coughed up another stream of vomit, blindly reaching over his head to reach the flush, but the toilet flushed before he could find it. He coughed, trying to clear his throat of the slimy feeling, stomach still bubbling and threatening to send up the rest of his chick- Uuurgh, the rest of his lunch.
"Jesus," Chuck breathed out, voice spooked, "what the hell happened?"
Leo collapsed onto his ass, groaning and hanging his head as he tried to catch his breath. His stomach was aching from the violent heaving, still churning with vestigial nausea, "uhm-" he gulped down, then muffled a wet belch in his hand, frothy enough that he leaned to the side to spit the ropey saliva in the bowl, "chick- HIC-" he jerked with a hiccup and squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut up his mind, "lunch- Gross-"
"Your lunch was gross?" Chuck snorted and Leo sat back down, tilting his head up to look at the guy. Chuck had tan, reddish skin and extremely dark, straight hair that was always brushed back. He was stocky, clearly frequenting the gym, but not particularly tall like Leo or Dean.
"Yeah..."
"You're like a child, Wagner," Chuck laughed, stepping back, now sufficiently calmed down over Leo's wellbeing, "maybe you should go home and nurse that stomachache."
"It's fine," Leo rolled his eyes, grabbing on the stall wall to pull himself up. His stomach gurgled, unhappily, and he froze in a hunched over position, taking slow breaths in order to avoid lurch right back to the bowl, "just... Just grossed out..."
"Go home," Chuck shooed him with a hand gesture, "work from home, we have those home office days for this exact reason. No one wants your pukey ass in the office in case you have a bug."
"I don't have a bug," Leo groaned, but he would be lying if the idea of going home wasn't enticing, not because he was sick, but because he felt exposed and raw. Besides, Jon was probably home, he wasn't scheduled for today... Hopefully?
"Go home, Leo," Chuck was now serious, "that's the most ridiculous way anyone has ever gotten sick in this office."
Leo flipped him off as he stumbled back to the sinks, washing his mouth and face. Just swishing water around in his mouth was enough to make him gag and he shuddered with revulsion, "yeah okay, I'll go home," he wiped his chin with his hand, feeling too weak to reach for the paper towels less than two feet away. Chuck grabbed a handful of them with a little huff.
"Thank you," the older guy said in an amused tone, walking out of the bathroom.
Leo gathered his stuff back in his office, then went back to the garage, passing by Sandy, who cooed over him, all "Oh, you poor thing, feel better," rubbing his arm in a reassuring manner and that made Leo turn a deep crimson shade. Damn office gossip, she hadn't even been there when he threw up!
On the drive over, he gagged twice more at a red light, as his brain insisted on recalling the damn chicken, but Leo valiantly swallowed it back down.
He was pouty and cranky by the time he made it inside their apartment, not even JD meowing at his presence seeming to cheer him up.
"What is it, baby?" Jon cooed, following the cat out of the room, and then paused, eyebrows raised, "shouldn't you be at the office?"
He was leaning against the wall that marked the end of their hallway, wearing sweatpants with a compression wifebeater on top, but over all of it he sported a silk mustard yellow robe, with matching slippers. Leo snorted at the sight.
"Clearly, I am not," he answered, dropping his suitcase by the door and crossing the room in order to topple in Jonah's arms, sending his husband stumbling back and chuckling.
"Oh, hi, hello," his voice came muffled by Leo's hair in his mouth and he sputtered, squirming to pull him into a correct hug, "what's wrong, angel?"
"Don't steal my petname," Leo grumbled, turning his head to inhale Jonah's perfume and feeling the previous disgust start to melt away. Jonah always smelt like a damn dream, like the most squeaky clean person in the world, no matter how many hours after a shower it was.
"What. Is. Wrong?" Jon punctuated each word with a kiss to Leo's temple and the blonde grinned, turning his head so he could catch the last one in his mouth and then pulled back just a smidge.
"I threw up, Chuck sent me home."
"And you just kissed me?" Jonah raised an unimpressed eyebrow, glaring at him, causing Leo to snort.
"I'm not sick, the chicken in the lunch was-" instead of saying what it was, Leo gagged and shuddered, making Jonah laugh.
"Oh, you diva," he grabbed Leo's face, pressing a kiss to his pout, "chicken was icky in your tummy, yeah?"
"You're soooo mean to me," Leo whined, squinting at him, and biting down a smile as Jonah tugged him closer and he promptly went, happily being squished into a hug.
Jonah didn't make a move to get them to the couch or the bedroom, instead they stayed standing in the middle of the living room, not that either one seemed to mind. His husband rubbed a hand up his back, fingers running through his hair as Leo melted into a puddle.
"Jon?"
"Yeah?" His breath tickled Leo's ear and he smiled, pressed himself even closer, if possible.
“I smell plastic,” Oliver complained about the nasal cannula, scrunching up his nose.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Spirit scoffed, poking the tip of his nose. “Ya got plastic tubes up your nostrils.”
“Did you just boop me?”
She shrugged.
A gameshow Oliver had never heard of was playing on mute on the TV in his room. Sitting up against several pillows with cards on his lap, he’d been letting Spirit teach him how to play I Declare War, and she was kicking his ass at it.
“I’m sick. Go easy on me,” he pouted. She smirked, and put down a card to counter his 10-of-diamonds.
Her card was an Ace.
He groaned. “You suck.”
“Love ya too.”
They continued to play. Oliver managed to steal back a few more cards, but ultimately ended up losing again. Again-again. For the fifth time.
Spirit, for no one’s eyes but his (and he’d never bring it up if he wanted to avoid the wrath of the hot-head) did a stupid little victory dance that had him bursting out laughing. He laughed a little too hard for his lungs to handle and started coughing though, making Spirit stop suddenly, guilt flashing across her face.
He held up a hand when she started to reach for the call button beside his bed, chuckling between wheezes and coughs. "I'm fine,” he managed at last, still smiling. “It’s just a bit of coughing.”
She frowned. Those coughs didn’t sound good.
Before she could say anything though, the door to Oliver’s room opened, three people all coming in with bags of food.
“Panera is here!” Isaac said, striking a pose with a to-go bag in one hand and Oliver’s favorite blueberry-lavender lemonade in the other. When he threw out one of his arms for the pose, he nearly decked Birdie in the face, but his arm went high enough and she was short enough that she ducked easily. The blonde cringed and apologized.
Aiden chuckled from behind them, his glasses perched on top of his head, pushing his hair back in a way that had Spirit staring longer than she intended to, earning a poke in the side and a cheeky smirk from her bed-ridden gremlin of a friend.
“Got you your green tea,” Birdie said, handing the iced drink to Spirit. “And brownies for all!” She held up the bag she was holding.
All the bags and drinks wound up on the little counter in the corner of the room, Birdie and Spirit rummaging through everything while Aiden hugged Spirit from behind, chin resting on top of her hair. Isaac busied himself with adjusting the overbed table for Oliver, and making sure he was sitting up comfortably.
“Hi,” Oliver said with a tired smile, watching Isaac fuss. Isaac returned the smile, leaning in to kiss Oliver’s forehead (kisses on the lips were out of the question till he was pneumonia-free). Isaac’s smile faltered slightly, not liking one bit how warm Oliver still was, but he knew the antibiotics still had to run their course.
“Hey, Olive. Are you feeling alright?”
Oliver nodded, taking a deep breath real quick when his chest started to feel heavy. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just tired.”
“Not nauseous?”
Oliver shook his head.
Spirit came over with a little cardboard bowl of soup, a plastic spoon, and Oliver’s lemonade. He smiled and thanked her as she put them on the table for him.
Isaac walked away to grab his own food, spending a minute looking at each of the sandwiches before finding his Italian sub. He took the chair by Oliver’s bed; the chair Spirit had been sitting in before.
Birdie got comfy on the floor with her grilled cheese, and Spirit and Aiden took the little couch in the room. Oliver watched his friends, chuckling as Spirit dunked the corner of her veggie sandwich in Aiden’s strangely orange-colored soup that he couldn’t recall the name of.
Oliver reached for his spoon. His stomach felt weird, but he chalked it up to just being hungry. However, as he looked down at the soup in front of him, he felt something uneasy in his gut. He frowned, putting down the spoon and grabbing his lemonade instead.
He took a few sips before grabbing the spoon again, deciding to try the soup. He tried it with a noodle and a carrot the first time, but chewed that one bite for a bit too long. It settled in his stomach like a brick. After that, he just took little sips of the broth.
“You okay?” Isaac asked softly, making Oliver jolt and he wondered if he spaced out. Oliver frowned, wondering where Isaac’s sandwich was. A quick look at the rest of his friends told him they’d all finished eating, and his soup was still almost full.
He frowned, putting down his spoon and pushing the overbed table back a bit. “Not hungry,” he mumbled.
Isaac bit the inside of his cheek, frowning at Oliver. “Can you take just a few more bites, baby?”
Oliver shook his head, feeling his cheeks flush at all the eyes suddenly on him. He sighed, laying back against the pillows and turning on his side, away from them. The movement jostled his chest and he coughed a few times. He figured it was another small fit, but the coughs only got harsher and wetter, making his chest ache.
“Olive?” Isaac said, his voice panicked.
Oliver tried to answer. Instead, he wheezed.
“Shit,” Isaac cursed, hitting the emergency button by the bed. Oliver heard his friends’ panicked voices as he coughed. The door opened and suddenly there were gloved hands helping him sit up, coaxing him to lean forward and someone took the tubes out of his nose. He felt the familiar feeling of the mask covering his mouth and nose. Something was pushed into his IV. He kept coughing, but it was starting to slow. The mask pushed more oxygen into his system than the nasal cannula did, and whatever was put in his IV was making him start to feel numb. His eyes drooped slightly.
One of the nurses—a sweet, young nurse named Anaiya—spoke to him calmly as she eased the mask’s straps around his head. “Let’s keep this on for a bit, okay sweetie?” she said, easing him back against the pillows. She used the remote to lower the bed into a more comfortable position.
Oliver was still awake, but his entire body felt heavy and tired. The other nurses left, but Anaiya stayed, walking over to Isaac and the others.
He tried to listen, but his head felt fuzzy and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He let out a couple of small coughs, and let himself fall asleep.
-- -- --
Oliver woke up with the mask still on, and someone standing beside his bed.
“Isaac?” he mumbled, blinking blearily in the dimmed room. Why’s it so dark?
“Hey,” the person said, but the voice wasn’t Isaac’s. Oliver blinked a few more times before Keiko’s face became clear. “How’re you feeling?”
Oliver just blinked for a second before looking around the room, frowning behind the mask. “Where. . . Isaac. . ?”
Keiko gave him a small, worried smile. “He’ll be back soon. How does your chest feel?”
Oliver pouted. He took a deep breath to try and figure out an answer to that. “Okay. But. . . heavy.”
“Not painful?”
Oliver shook his head. “I feel. . . weird. Tingly.”
“That’ll be the sedative,” Keiko sighed. Something grave crossed his face, and Oliver felt the nervousness practically rolling off of his friend in waves.
“Kei?”
Keiko sighed. “There’s something you need to know,” he said softly. “There’s no point in beating around the bush about this. Your doctor came in not too long ago and explained to us that if you go into respiratory failure again, there’s a chance you’ll end up on a ventilator. It’s, like, a tube that breathes for you.”
Oliver felt his blood run cold. Just picturing it terrified him. Was he that sick?
Thinking about it made his stomach churn. His head spun and he suddenly gagged behind the mask. Keiko moved quickly, grabbing an emesis bin left beside the bed and helping Oliver sit up. He managed to pull the mask off in time before Oliver brought up the pathetic amount of soup he’d eaten.
He groaned, and Keiko gave him a cup of water to rinse his mouth with.
“Here, lay back.” Keiko helped him settle against the pillows once more, and then put the mask back on properly.
“Why’re you here?” Oliver asked tiredly. “Didn’t you have classes today?”
Keiko shrugged. “Atticus said he’d record the lecture for me. I was needed here.”
Silence stretched. Oliver listened to the steady beeping of his heart monitor. He felt tired and scared and he wanted. . .
“Where’re my parents?” he asked in a small voice. “You guys called them, right?”
Keiko nodded. “I think your parents said they were on some kind of trip. They’re still trying to get a flight back, but almost everything is booked.”
Oh, right, Oliver thought. He remembered his parents talking about wanting to take one of those around-the-world cruises. They’d been planning and saving up for this kind of trip since he was accepted into college. And now I’m ruining their dream trip, he thought guiltily.
“Want to talk to them? I can call them for you if you-”
“No.” He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “No, I don’t wanna.” They’ll be worried about me and they’ll be so nice and assuring. But they should be having fun together, not dealing with my sickness.
With a deep breath—made much easier by the mask—Oliver looked at Keiko and asked, “Where’s Isaac, Keiko?”
He hesitated, looking like he didn’t want to say anything, and Oliver frowned at him. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Birdie took him outside for some fresh air after he… he had a few panic attacks while you were out,” he admitted. Oliver’s eyes widened as Keiko continued, “Spirit called me after the first. He had more… intense one after the doctor came and told us about the possibility of the ventilator. He was shaken, but refused to leave you, so we coaxed him into taking a quick walk outside.”
In all the years that he’d known Isaac, since they were just little kids, his best friend had never had a panic attack. Hell, the guy rarely even cried! Oliver himself had a few panic attacks throughout the years, but Isaac had always been sturdy. Optimistic. Far braver than he could ever hope to be.
Had he scared him that badly?
Tears filled his eyes, guilt weighing on him like a ton of bricks. “I hate this,” he whimpered, shoulders shaking as he started to cry.
Keiko put a hand on his arm, rubbing softly. “I know,” he said. “It sucks, I know.”
-- -- --
“Spirit wants to know what tea flavor you want,” Birdie said softly, phone in one hand and Isaac’s hand in her other.
Isaac shook his head. “I don’t want tea.”
Birdie typed that. Then Spirit responded.
“She says you’re getting a tea whether you want it or not.”
Isaac didn’t have the energy to be snarky or quippy in response. He just shrugged. Birdie typed something else before pocketing her phone and looking up at Isaac. Side-by-side with him, she probably looked like a middle schooler. She had to tilt her head pretty far up just to look at his face.
The skin around his eyes was red, rubbed raw. He was pale, but thankfully not as pale as he was earlier. Birdie squeezed his hand, and he looked at her. She stopped walking, so he stopped as well.
She hugged him.
He sighed, hugging back and fighting not to cry anymore. He doubted he had any more tears left anyway. It had been a stressful few days.
Birdie didn’t say anything, but her sheer presence was comforting enough. The beads in her newly-done braids jingled and clacked together whenever she moved. Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle as a breeze blew by, making the beads shift, the sound reminding him of a wind chime. Honestly, Birdie herself was just as calming as a wind chime. Human wind chime.
“You feel okay enough to go back in?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, letting go of her.
She took his hand again and they walked back into the building, showing the lady at the desk their visitor stickers as they went. There was a little cafe by the lobby, and Spirit and Aiden were sitting in the lobby with drinks in hand, talking. The couple stood as soon as they saw Birdie and Isaac.
Spirit walked over holding out a cup to him. “It’s green tea with lemon. Drink it. It’ll help, I promise.” Her voice was softer than normal, lacking the usual bite that somehow always managed to seep into all of their conversations.
He nodded, taking the cup without a word, giving her a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Keiko texted,” Aiden said to Isaac. “Oliver’s awake. He’s asking for you.”
Isaac felt something simultaneously lift and twist in his chest, and he nodded, unceremoniously handing the tea back to Spirit and starting towards the elevator. It took everything he had to not run.
The elevator moved too slow. He felt jittery, and when it stopped on the right floor, he was out before the doors even fully opened.
He took quick, long steps down the hallways until he got to Oliver’s room.
Oliver’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying and he still had the mask on, but he was sitting up against the pillows. Awake. Isaac could see the small smile on his face despite the mask.
Keiko was sitting in the chair beside the bed, but moved himself and the chair out of the way so Isaac could get to him, hugging him as tight as he could, careful so as to not hurt him somehow.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Oliver mumbled, voice scratchy from coughing.
Isaac shook his head, pulling away and leaning back in to press a long, loving kiss against his forehead. “Don’t be sorry, baby,” Isaac whispered against his skin. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Are you okay?”
Isaac froze for a second, then pulled away. Oliver looked worried about him. His eyes widened, filling with more tears, but he nodded, blinking the tears away. “I’m okay, Olive. Just worried, that’s all.”
Oliver didn’t look like he believed him.
Isaac heard his friends’ hushed voices, followed by the sound of the door clicking shut. He looked over his shoulder and saw that they’d all left, giving him and Oliver privacy.
“Isaac,” Oliver mumbled, getting the blonde’s attention again. “I’m cold.”
Isaac frowned, leaning in again to kiss Oliver’s forehead, but this time he was feeling how warm he was. He was borderline hot! Did his fever go up? Just the thought was enough to make Isaac’s chest clench and his eyes sting.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get you any more blankets, baby. Your fever is still really high.”
Oliver pouted, but nodded. “I’m gonna be okay, Isaac,” Oliver assured. “It’s just pneumonia. I basically have a cold on steroids.”
Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He nodded, but the worry didn’t ease.
Noticing, Oliver sighed and, despite the ache in his body, forced his limbs to push himself over to the side a bit. Issac’s eyes widened “What’re you—?” Oliver reached up and curled his fingers in the front of Isaac’s shirt.
“Cuddle me,” he said, more of a demand than a request.
After a moment of hesitation, Isaac did as told and carefully climbed in beside Oliver, laying on his side on the edge to give Oliver the most space. Carefully, as if Oliver were made of glass, he put his arm around his boyfriend and buried his face against his side, not wanting to put any weight on Oliver’s chest. Oliver kissed the top of his head, his hand coming to rest on Isaac’s back, rubbing softly.
Oliver could feel Isaac trembling, and it broke his heart.
Isaac stayed exactly where he was, curled carefully around Oliver’s side. He didn’t dare to move. Especially when he heard Oliver’s breaths even out, the sedative and general exhaustion pulling him back into sleep.
For a while, the only sound in the room was the steady beep…beep…beep of the heart monitor and the soft flow of oxygen through the mask.
Issac’s nerves were still buzzing from earlier. Every little sound Oliver made had his chest tightening.
But Oliver was breathing.
That’s what mattered.
He was breathing.
Isaac gave in to his own exhaustion, letting his eyes close for just a second.
-- -- --
Oliver stirred.
He felt heavy and sluggish from sleep. His head was pounding and his mouth felt dry, but something else was off…
He shifted, making Isaac stir a little as well. “Ol…” he trailed off, still half asleep.
Oliver shifted again, grimacing as he blinked sleepily at the dimmed room. What’s wrong with me?
He coughed. Just once, and it was just a little cough. Still, it was enough to wake Isaac up a little more. Listening to the sudden silence, Isaac frowned.
“Oliver?”
The heart monitor was beeping. It wasn’t entirely silent, but one sound was wrong…
Oliver gasped.
Isaac shot up onto one elbow, dipping the bed under his arm and making Oliver groan from the movement as he tried in vain to suck in a full breath, the mask doing fuck-all.
“No,” Isaac gasped, bolting out of the bed and frantically hitting the emergency button by the bed.
A wet, rattling sound escaped Oliver.
Isaac let out an agonized sound that barely sounded human.
The heart monitor began to speed up.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Oliver—?” Isaac’s voice cracked.
Nurses barged in. Oliver’s eyes were wide, glassy with fear and tears. His mouth was agape, frozen that way as he tried and failed to pull air into his lungs.
A nurse told Isaac to get back. He stumbled, falling flat on his as as he watched the nurses frantically work.
He could hear as Oliver tried to pull in another breath.
It rattled horribly in his chest.
Isaac felt something in his chest snap.
The heart monitor shrieked faster.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
“His sats are dropping.”
“Get a crash cart over here!”
Oliver made a horrible choking sound.
Isaac’s vision tunneled.
He couldn’t breathe.
The room spun.
His heart slammed painfully against his ribs.
Not again not again not again—!
Someone was talking to him.
“Isaac!”
He barely heard it.
“ISSAC!”
A hand grabbed his shoulders.
Keiko.
“Isaac, look at me!”
Isaac shook his head violently, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.
“He’s dying,” Isaac choked. “He’s dying—”
“He’s not,” Keiko said firmly, though the tears forming in his own eyes made Isaac believe otherwise.
Across the room Oliver was coughing weakly, desperate gasps growing terrifyingly weaker, nurses crowding around him.
“His oxygen’s still dropping.”
“Get the vent—”
Isaac couldn’t hear the rest.
His chest locked.
His hands started shaking uncontrollably.
“I can’t— I can’t—” he gasped, clawing at his own shirt. He tore the neckline a little.
“Isaac, breathe! Jesus fuck, we need to get him out of here.” A different voice. Spirit.
“I can’t breathe—”
Keiko grabbed his face, forcing him to focus.
“Breathe with me.”
Isaac shook his head again, tears streaming down his face.
Across the room Oliver made a strangled, desperate sound.
Isaac’s vision blurred.
“I can’t—” he whimpered, voice slurring with tears.
The room spun harder.
His lungs refused to work.
No. His lungs worked. Oliver was the one struggling to breathe, lungs not working, dying—
Keiko cursed, hugging Isaac and trying to pull him to his feet..
The Instagram reels from Amberlynn that had accumulated over the three days he’d been too busy to check social media were. . . interesting, to say the least.
Why the hell did she insist on watching “Mama” make absolute monstrosities in the kitchen?! I thought she liked having an appetite!
She’d sent him anything and everything from disgusting cooking videos to cat memes to random crap that he didn’t even know how to describe. He was thoroughly baffled by a video of a girl covered head to toe in shaving cream, singing Sabrena Carpenter songs into a hairbrush.
Amberlynn came out of the bathroom in a mini black skirt and one of his navy blue sweaters. The sweater was huge on her, hiding even most of her skirt. Only a few inches of the hem were visible.
She sat on the edge of the bed, by his feet, as she pulled on her black converse with embroidered planets on them. “It’s Saturday, baby. You don’t even have classes. Where’re you going so early?” Instead of cuddling me, he thought with a slight pout.
“Girls day,” she answered, smiling. “Jor’s idea, of course. She’s inviting Felix too.”
He frowned. “Why is Felix going to your girls day?”
“Because he’s fabulous.”
Kei let out an offended scoff. “And I’m not?”
She raised a brow at him, just staring for a solid minute.
“You wear flip-flops with socks.”
He would’ve been offended if it weren't brutally true.
“Oliver is coming too,” Amberlynn said. “Or at least, I hope he is. He had a lot of stuff to do at the newspaper last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent the day sleeping off the caffeine crash.”
Keiko chuckled. “You’d think he’d be immune to the caffeine crash by now.” He smiled when Amberlynn came over to him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him sweetly.
“I’ll see you later, Kei. Do something fun today, please.”
“Like what? Skydiving? Alligator-wrestling?”
“Kei.”
“I’ve heard that climbing Everest can be fun.”
“Keiko Tanaka,” she narrowed her eyes, feigning annoyance.
He giggled and leant up, kissing her again. “I’m going to Summer Moon.”
“The cafe?”
“I like reading there.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling widely. “God, you’re such a nerd.”
“Says the dork who learned an entire semester’s worth of history in High School by watching Hamilton on repeat for three days straight.”
“Nerd.”
“Dork.”
She kissed him once more, shutting him up.
“Bye bye, baby,” she said, and she pulled away. Keiko watched as she grabbed her purse, checking that her wallet and keys were inside, and left.
Keiko continued to scroll through his messages on Instagram. After going through everything from Amberlynn, he just scrolled through reels for a bit.
Eventually, he got up to get dressed and be productive.
He put on slippers and padded over to his closet, stretching before looking inside. He found a pair of jeans and a casual blue polo, and threw on a white sweater over it. Still wearing the slippers, he wandered back to his bed to tidy it up. As he tugged on the duvet, his phone started buzzing on the bedside table.
He grinned and answered it. “Hello.”
“Your friends stole my boyfriend,” Atticus grumbled. Keiko laughed.
“It’s all my sister’s fault,” Keiko shrugged, adjusting pillows. “The brat has a shopping addiction, and enjoys spreading her disease on these ‘Girls days’. Trust me, my girlfriend was also stolen today.”
Atticus sighed. Then, he asked, “Any plans for today?”
“Just reading. You?”
“Nah. Studying, maybe. I’m kinda stuck at home since Felix took my car. His is at the dealership.” He sighed. “I feel like I’ve been abandoned for shoe-shopping.”
Keiko made a humming sound. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Used to it? How often do they do this?!”
“I don’t really keep track, but a few times every month or two.”
Atticus groaned. Then, he sighed, voice softening. “At least he’s having fun. I’m glad about that, bored or not. I’mma let you go so I can get to studying. Enjoy your reading, dude.”
“You want me to head over to you so we can study together? Might make your day less boring.”
“Nah, I study better when I’m alone. Otherwise, I’m too distracted by talking.”
Keiko shrugged. “Okay. Suit yourself, man.”
Atticus ended the call, and Keiko almost set his phone back on the table when it started ringing again. This time, a stupidly silly picture of Isaac wearing the most ridiculous outfit—a barney onesie with a tutu, sunglasses, and a bandana—while stuffing his face with marshmallows showed on the caller screen. He smiled as he answered. “I’m guessing your boyfriend has also been stolen by Jor, huh?” he chuckled.
At first, there was only silence on the other end of the call, and Keiko raised a brow. “Issac? You there?” Did he butt-dial him?
Keiko suddenly heard a shaky breath, followed by a sob.
His smile fell. “Isaac?”
Another sob. “Kei,” he heard Isaac all but whimper. “Kei, I’m at the hospital.”
-- -- --
The waiting room was crowded, and Isaac felt suffocated. His chest felt tight and he wondered if it was possible for a heart to explode because he sure felt like that’s what his was about to do.
He couldn’t stop the moment from replaying in his head like a loop from hell. It happened in an instant. Oliver, coughing.
Then, suddenly, not coughing.
Not even breathing.
And everything after that was so much fucking worse. . .
Since they took Oliver somewhere and then took him somewhere else, Isaac himself felt like he couldn’t breathe. He gasped through sobs, fighting to bring air into his lungs. A few people stared at him, but he didn’t even notice. He was trembling all over, hands shaking too much to try and call anyone again.
He’d been able to steady himself enough to make one call earlier. How long had it been since he called Kei? Ten minutes? An hour? He couldn’t tell anymore.
He wanted Oliver. He wanted to see him. Hold him. Cry with him, but instead he was stuck crying in a packed room full of people who were looking at him and he could barely breathe and was starting to feel sick, and he felt pissed at the nurse who had been rude to them before because she just brought him to this place where he was left alone and terrified and no one would fucking tell him anything and-
“Isaac!”
Isaac blinked. Had his eyes been closed? He couldn’t remember closing them. He just kept remembering that moment when Oliver was on the ground being surrounded by doctors and one of them put a mask on his face and-
“Isaac, breathe,” a voice said, stern and concerned.
Again, Isaac blinked, returning to himself a bit. His heart was still racing horribly in his chest, making it feel tight and his lungs were burning as he tried to suck in a full breath between his sobs. He closed his eyes again, tears stinging.
“Please, Isaac, look at me. I need you to look at me and breathe. Deep breaths.”
He blinked some more and found himself looking into wide, worried eyes. Keiko was crouched in front of him, hands holding Isaac’s head from both sides, forcing him to ground himself. Issac took another shaky breath, choking as it turned into another sob.
“Breathe, Isaac,” Keiko said, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth to demonstrate. “Slow, deep breaths.”
Still trembling, Isaac tried to do so. He choked on a breath the first few tries, but managed to match the slow, steady pace that Keiko was instructing for him. After several minutes, Isaac felt like his lungs could expand again. He sniffed, wiping tears off of his face.
“You okay?” Keiko asked, hands moving to Isaac’s shoulders.
Isaac said nothing. Then shook his head. He was definitely not okay.
Keiko moved to sit in the chair beside Isaac. “What happened?”
Isaac hadn’t given details over the phone. He’d managed to mumble something about Oliver between sobs, sent his location from the hospital, and hung up.
Isaac was still trembling horribly, and Keiko could see more tears welling in his eyes. His stomach was in knots, and he felt absolutely terrified.
“I-I don’t even know,” Isaac mumbled tearfully. “I woke up, and Olive was there. He, um, was sick. I tried to help but he- he couldn’t stop coughing and it sounded horrible.” He sniffed grossly, his voice getting thicker as he fought off more tears. “He coughed up b-blood,” his voice cracked on the last word. Keiko felt his stomach drop, eyes widening.
“I drove him he-he-here,” Isaac forced out, his body shaking more as he started crying again. “We sat down to w-wait, and he just. . . fuck-” he doubled over, head suddenly in his hands, fingers tangling in his hair. “He s-stopped breathing. Kei, he stopped fucking breathing!” Sobs shook his entire frame, chest rising and falling rapidly between sobs.
Keiko put a hand on his back, but he himself felt numb and sick. “Where is he?” he asked softly once Isaac had slowed his breathing once again.
Wiping away tears till his face turned red, Isaac shook his head. “I’dunno,” he whined. “They took him and, um. . . and told me to w-wait.”
“How long ago was that?” Keiko asked. Had he really been brought here all panicked and terrified and just left alone?!
Isaac shrugged.
“Okay.” He wanted to march up to a nurse and get some answers, but he didn’t want to leave Isaac alone like this.
Keiko had seen Oliver yesterday, and he’d been fine. On his third coffee of the day, sure, but still smiling and normal and complaining about classes and stuff.
Was he sick then? Did I just not notice? Keiko himself was starting to feel a little sick.
Isaac sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, palms pressing against his eyes. Suddenly, his body felt heavy.
“Isaac?”
“Hm?”
“Do you need me to do anything for you?”
Isaac lowered his hands, looking at his friend. There was a reason why of all his friends, he chose to call Keiko specifically. Keiko was solid. Reliable. Isaac constantly teased him for being a ‘mother hen’ and crap, but hell if that ‘mother hen’ stuff wasn’t exactly what he needed right now.
Isaac shook his head, and then leaned to the side. Keiko understood instantly, shifting to pull Isaac into a hug. “Thank you, Kei.”
Keiko held him tightly, and tighter when Isaac once again began to tremble and cry. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said, hoping the words were true. “He’s gonna be alright.”
-- -- --
A man in a white coat entered the waiting room about five minutes later, holding a clipboard. “Oliver Brown”, the man called, and Isaac jolted. He stood abruptly, and he had to force himself not to run to the doctor, walking with Keiko behind him.
“How is he?” Isaac asked before the doctor could say anything.
“Resting right now,” the doctor answered. “I’m the doctor assigned to his case, Dr. Neil. I apologise for the wait. The labs were quite backed up today, but we’ve got Mr. Brown’s results. He’s got severe bacterial pneumonia. This is probably one of the worst cases I’ve seen in quite some time.”
Isaac’s voice broke as he asked, “But is he gonna be okay?”
Dr. Neil’s expression softened. “That depends. In most cases of bacterial pneumonia, we run antibiotics and that’s that. However, Mr. Brown’s case is far more severe. He fell into respiratory failure in the ER, and suffered cardiac arrest once we’d gotten him up to the ICU where he is currently. He’s stable now, but I’d like to keep him here for a while to monitor his condition.”
Keiko went tense, breath hitching. Isaac felt like his blood was ice. “Cardiac arrest?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Like. . . his heart?”
Dr. Neil nodded. “It was a result of the respiratory failure; nothing is wrong with his heart itself. But still, it could potentially happen again if he goes into another respiratory failure, which is exactly why we’re keeping him here for observation. We have him on antibiotics and he’ll be on a nasal cannula once his oxygen levels are up. I can bring you to him now, if you’d like.”
Isaac nodded, fighting another wave of tears.
Dr. Neil led Isaac and Keiko out of the waiting room, leading them to the ICU. Down several hallways, Dr. Neil finally stopped in front of a door. He held it open for Isaac and Keiko. Isaac went in first.
He froze, something in his chest twisting.
Oliver was asleep, an IV in his wrist, and a mask covering the lower half of his pale face. A heart monitor beeped softly beside his bed.
All of this, and it wasn’t even afternoon yet.
“You two are free to stay with him. I have other patients to attend to, but a nurse will be in later to check up on him, and I’ll be back later in the afternoon.” Dr. Neil left them.
Isaac was still in the same spot, just staring at Oliver. Keiko sighed, placing a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I’ll go call the others and tell them about all of this. You stay here with him.”
Isaac took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Kei.”
Keiko managed a small smile, giving Isaac’s shoulder a squeeze before leaving, shutting the door behind himself.
The room was silent aside from the steady but slow beat of the heart monitor.
Isaac managed to move at last. One foot in front of the other, he walked closer to Oliver’s bedside. At first he just stood there. Unmoving. Paralyzed. Then, he leaned forward, a hand coming up to gently stroke hair away from Oliver’s face. With his other hand, he grabbed one of Oliver’s limp ones.
He stayed like that, watching Oliver sleep as the mask helped him breathe. Suddenly, Isaac felt something wet and familiar run down his cheeks. All this crying is exhausting, he thought, but he couldn’t help himself.
Oliver groaned.
Isaac nearly flinched. Through tears, he saw as Oliver shifted, leaning into his touch. His eyes opened to hazy slits, but he was awake. He was okay.
Well, kinda.
Isaac sobbed before he could stop himself, and Oliver’s exhausted eyes widened ever so slightly. He made a sound that Isaac knew was his name, but the mask muffled it.
A hysterical chuckle came up with a few more sobs. “Hi, baby,” Isaac managed to say, fully petting Oliver’s hair now. “Hi.” More sobs.
They looked at each other for a while, Isaac fighting his emotions for control. It was then, suddenly, that he felt Oliver shaking a little.
With a jolt, he realized Oliver’s eyes had gone shiny. Watching him cry, Oliver had started to cry too.
Isaac felt sick, immediately choking out apologies despite his strangled voice. “Please don’t cry, Olive.” Isaac couldn’t stand seeing Oliver look like he was in any more pain.
“I’m sorry,” Oliver mumbled tearfully behind the mask, breaths becoming wonky as he cried.
Isaac shook his head, letting go of Oliver’s hand and laying it softly on his chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Olive. Please, don’t cry. Take a deep breath for me, baby. Everything’s okay.” His voice cracked on the last word,
Oliver managed to stop crying fairly quickly, though his limbs felt too heavy to wipe the tears off his own face. Isaac did that for him, cradling his face as his thumbs wiped away tears.
“Mm’tired,” Oliver mumbled.
Isaac nodded. “That’s okay. You can sleep, baby. I’ll be here.”
Oliver just started at him for another minute. “I love you,” he managed. “Love you, Issy.”
Isaac once again chuckled tearfully, though he managed to ward off the sobs this time. “I love you too, Olive.”
Isaac pulled a chair close to the edge of the bed and sat. He listened as Oliver’s breath evened out with sleep once more. He took Oliver’s hand once more, draping his upper body on the bed, head against Oliver’s thigh.
Keep breathing, he silently prayed as he felt himself starting to drift off. I don’t wanna wake up to that again. I can’t take it again. So please, keep breathing.
Before he drifted off to sleep, he felt Oliver’s hand squeezing his gently. Isaac squeezed back, jaw clenching as he fought valiantly to not cry anymore. He was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t run dry yet.
Oliver yawned over his nearly-empty coffee in a Uni mug before lifting it to his lips, drinking it with his eyes closed. He kept nodding off, regardless of how many refills he had of pure black coffee, the bitterness made bearable by sugar.
The words on his computer screen were blurring before his eyes, little black letters mixing with white and making the screen just look grey. Darker grey. Then black.
He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes till someone smacked his hand with a rolled-up newspaper. He yelped, shooting up and spilling his coffee all over his notes. He groaned, watching the ink mix and swirl with the bittersweet liquid.
“Dammit, Brown, pull yourself together,” Dan—his editor—chastised him. Then, he turned to face the rest of the very busy room. “No sleeping in the newsroom! We have a deadline, people! If we don’t get our layout to the printers on time, our paper won’t come out!”
Dan stormed off to his desk, and Oliver forced himself to sit up straighter, waving over one of the freshmen and telling them to bring him another coffee and some paper towels.
During the start of the year, all freshmen are more like interns for the Uni’s paper. Oliver remembered when he was in those shoes, and now he was in his Junior year. If he wanted to, he could run to be the next editor since Dan would be graduating that year anyway. Could he handle that kind of stress? He decided not to think about it.
The freshman—a baby-faced guy named Ryan—came back quick and started helping him salvage his notes. He’d already typed up most of what was ruined anyway, so it hardly mattered. Ryan left, taking the Uni mug with him to the little other room attached to the newsroom that functioned as a little kitchen, stopping at Felicity’s desk as he went to take another mug as well. He came back with the two mugs filled with coffee, giving one to Oliver, and the other to Felicity who coughed a few times before thanking him. Suppressing coughs, she went back to typing frantically enough that Oliver knew she must’ve procrastinated on writing her reviews on the University’s art shows.
On the other hand, Oliver had been so passionate about this story he was working on—a featured article that spoke about the final season of Queer Eye, and the impact the show has had on millions of people. He had genuinely cried while watching the final season. Spirit had teased him when they’d all binged it together, saying he and Jeremiah (his favorite member of the Fab Five) were both crybabies.
He’d spent forever writing it, genuinely taking joy in the article, and had only a little bit left to go. He chugged half of his new coffee in three seconds, and typed as quickly as he could manage. He’d already cited his sources and written his name at the title “Farewell to the Fab Five”, so as soon as he hit that final period, he silently slumped in his chair and took what felt like the deepest breath he’d ever taken.
Layout was due at midnight. It was currently ten, and it was pitch-back outside. Bracing himself to do just a little more work, Oliver sat up straight again to download the document and email it to Dan for the final edits. He had to attach the page that had the links to all his sources, and then wait for Dan to give it a quick read with notes. With those final notes, he’d edit and be done.
Sighing heavily, he took another large gulp of coffee before standing from his desk, stopping my Dan to tell him he was going to take a quick walk to stretch his legs. Dan nodded and pulled up Oliver’s email, waving him off as he started to read.
Oliver stepped outside of the newsroom, and the second he shut the door behind himself, he took a deep breath and felt tension roll off his body in waves. The noisy and hectic atmosphere had been pressing in on him, borderline suffocating him. His head spun, and his stomach grumbled angrily due to being filled with nothing but black coffee all day.
Practically dragging his feet, Oliver wandered the halls lazily, not wanting to rush back into the chaos quite yet. At nearly 11, Oliver went back.
Dan called him over, told him to check his email, and sent him back to his desk. Oliver sat with another heavy sigh, pulling up the document of notes from Dan, and he worked on the final edits of his article.
-- -- --
Normally, Isaac woke up hugging a pillow or something, a habitual sleep-cuddler. However, Isaac now woke up with his arms around someone who wasn’t there when he fell asleep.
Seeing Oliver beside him, wrapped in one of Isaac’s beloved fluffy blankets and curled up slightly, Isaac smiled widely and hugged him tighter. He watched his best friend as he slept, wanting to commit the details of his face to memory while he was like this; peaceful, soft, and without the stress of school weighing and wearing him down. It felt like forever since he last saw Oliver relaxed.
Oliver’s face was tinted slightly pink, making freckles stand out. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed softly. His hair was messy, and a few strands clung to his long, dark eyelashes. Unwrapping one arm from around Oliver, he moved his hand to trace a finger along the curve of Oliver’s cheek. The feeling tickled, and Oliver scrunched up his face cutely, attempting to hide by burying his face in Isaac’s chest. The blonde laughed quietly.
“Morning, Olive,” he whispered, his hand now playing with dark, soft waves of hair.
Instead of responding, Oliver groaned and attempted to pull the blanket over his head, making Isaac laugh more. "When did you get here last night?"
Again, he didn't respond. Instead, he took a deep breath, only to cough against Issac's chest a few times. The last cough sounded wet and chesty, and Isaac's smile wavered a little.
"Baby? You okay?"
Oliver whined miserably. That was answer enough.
Brows pinched, Isaac pulled the blanket off Oliver's head, making his boyfriend groan again and peer up at him with red eyes. Very red eyes.
"Holy shit," Isaac gasped, cupping Oliver's face and looking at the redness of his half-lidded eyes. "Baby, what the hell happened?!"
Oliver groaned and tried to pull away. "N'fin," he slurred, his voice quiet and slightly hoarse. "L'as night. . . P'pr."
Isaac took a second to put together the words in his head before he believed he understood. "You were working at the paper last night? How late?!"
Instead of answering, Oliver whined and turned his head away as he started to cough again, only worse.
Staying up late doesn't give you a cough, does it?
Now that he was a little more awake himself, something seemed off about just how truly pink Oliver's face was. When Oliver was catching his breath after the coughing fit, Isaac cupped his face again. He was unusually warm.
A fever too?
Oliver was still breathing hard, his breaths sounding shallow and phlegmy, and Isaac shot out of his bed to find a thermometer. He found it in his kitchen drawer and ran back to the bedroom with it. Oliver, more awake now, looked at him with those bloodshot eyes. "Issy," he murmured, and Isaac's stomach twisted a bit.
"Heyyy, baby," he cooed. "Open your mouth a bit for me okay? There you go." He sat on the edge of the bed, petting Oliver's hair, until the thermometer beeped. Isaac frowned at the number, 101.4
"Sorry 'bout this," Oliver apologized when Isaac took back the thermometer. "I don't know what happened. I felt fine last night. Practically dead on my feet with exhausted, but still fine."
Isaac frowned. "Don't be sorry, baby. So, this is just hitting you now? Were you around anyone who was-"
He was cut off when Oliver began coughing, only this time he didn't stop. He turned red in the face from strain, struggling to try and push himself up. Cursing softly, Isaac helped him sit up straight, but that did little to help.
Oliver cupped a hand over his mouth as he kept coughing. The coughs sounded absolutely horrible, and Isaac started to honestly feel scared.
A particularly violent few coughs resulted in Oliver hunching over himself, and he jolted as something wet hit his hand.
He still kept coughing.
He tried to gasp in breaths between each cough, but trying to breathe only made the coughing worse. He was literally choking on air.
Isaac didn't know what to do other than hold him by the shoulders and wait. He felt useless.
When the horrible fit finally ended, Oliver was still struggling for breath. Every inhale and exhale sounded painful, and the way Oliver's tear-stained face was twisted in a pained grimace only confirmed that for Isaac.
He was trembling all over, and though he wasn't actually crying, tears still ran down is reddened cheeks anyway.
"Olive, I don't like this," Isaac mumbled worriedly.
Lowering his hand from his mouth, Oliver looked at the wetness in his palm and his breath hitched. He looked up at Isaac, then back at his hand. Isaac looked too. . .
Blood.
Not much but still there. Flecks of red splattered along with phlegm.
If Isaac was worried before, now he was terrified.
"Hospital," Isaac said so suddenly that Oliver didn't register the words till the blonde was already slipping his crocs on.
He opened his mouth to argue, but he winced and coughed before the words came out. Not as bad at last time, but still painful. He whined when the coughing stopped, wincing at a sharp pain in the back of his throat.
"Okay," Isaac said, coming back to Oliver. It was then that Isaac noticed that his boyfriend was wearing one of his hoodies, and nothing else. Oliver's own clothes were on a pile on the floor by the bed.
Isaac sighed, grabbing Oliver some boxers and shorts and helping him get them on since Oliver was barely managing to even keep himself sitting up. Then, he lifted him and carried him out of the bedroom.
"D'nt need th'sspital," he slurred weakly, his voice barely audible.
"Yes," Isaac said, heart racing in his chest. "Yes you do."
-- -- --
The ER was packed.
Isaac frowned, and Oliver groaned beside him. Though he was standing, Isaac still kept and arm around him and was taking most of his weight.
He wanted to complain that Isaac was moving too fast, but he was too busy trying to get air to his lungs to even form the words. Everything started to look fuzzy at the edges, and breathing was starting to become more of a strenuous task than it was worth. His chest hurt! And why the hell was everything spinning?
"Excuse me?" Isaac said frantically to an ER nurse typing on her computer. She looked up at him with a tired expression. "He's really sick. His breathing is all weird, and he keeps coughing really badly."
The woman sighed, moving some papers around on her desk before handing one to him. "Fill this out," she said robotically. "Take a seat, and someone will be with you as soon as possible."
Isaac frowned, looking at his gasping boyfriend and then back at the nurse. "How long will it take for someone to see us?"
The nurse gave an annoyed huff, which made Isaac stiffen. She stood up, looking Oliver up an down. "Standing, managing to breathe, nothing broken or bleeding. In case you couldn't tell, we're packed to capacity right now. He's not priority, so you need to wait."
"But he coughed up-"
"Sherron," another nurse came over, taking the rude nurse's attention. "I need help with the patient at bed-3. He's not cooperating."
"Okay." She turned to Isaac one more time. "Fill out the form and wait," she repeated, and then she left before Isaac could say anything else.
Grumbling frustrated explicitives under his breath, Isaac led Oliver over to the waiting chairs. Oliver sat down and broke into another coughing fit, clutching his chest with one hand and cupping his mouth with the other. Isaac sighed, sitting beside him and rubbing a hand gently on his back.
"Just hold on," Isaac said softly, worry overriding his annoyance. "You'll get checked out soon." Hopefully.
But Oliver didn't hear what Isaac said. The ringing in his ears was barely noticeable just second ago, but now it was deafening. The spinning was worse. The fluorescent lights were blinding.
He gasped.
He choked.
He couldn't even cough anymore.
Then, it all happened too fast. Someone called his name as he swayed. Then screamed it as he tilted too far and fell off the chair.
I can't breathe, he thought as he fought to suck air into his burning lungs. The noise around him grew. Hands were shaking him. Something wet dripped onto his face.
Oliver felt more hands on him. Something that smelled strange was put over his face.
As the fuzziness began to give way to blackness, he heard someone shouting about a code or something. He didn't think on it though. He was too tired.
Lil disclaimer for y'all, now that I'm jumping back into posting more often, I have some very angsty plans coming up, and my next fic will be Oliver. . .
So done with this series!!😭 This took way longer than I thought, and life decided to take me on a very stressful rollercoaster lately.
Kept this short, sweet, and happy. No angst, no whump, just fluff. Enjoy!!😉
———————————————————————————————
Felix snuck himself under Atticus’s arm, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist as they followed the tour guide leading them through the Adamson House Museum.
Ever since his little bug at the start of the trip, Atticus noticed Felix suddenly being extremely clingy, likely still feeling bad despite Atticus insisting he wasn’t even the least bit upset at all.
Felix had even gone through the trouble of researching things to do in Malibu away from beaches and pools, fully focused on making sure Atticus would enjoy himself. After realizing there was no stopping him, Atticus just sighed and accepted his fate.
No matter what he said, he was gonna get spoiled.
Atticus looked down at Felix and smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. The blonde looked up at him, the green in his eyes matching the summer blouse he was wearing, and he smiled, pecking Atticus on the lips.
Both of them looked back at the tour guide who was leading the tour group outside to look at the tiled fountain outside. Behind the fountain was a view of the afternoon sunset reflecting on the ocean, mountains standing tall in the distance, and Felix let out a soft sigh of awe. It was truly a beautiful sight. Perfect.
The perfect moment.
In the back pocket of Atticus’s pants, mere inches below where Felix’s arm was hugged around his waist, were the two gifts he’d bought for Felix. He’d waited and waited for an opportunity, heart pounding every time as it was doing at that very moment.
The guide told everyone on the tour to go ahead and explore the grounds. Atticus wasn’t surprised when Felix stayed right where he was, just staring at the view.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Felix grinned up at him. “A ballgown, orange at the top and fading down to pink and blue to look like a sunset, and navy-blue embroidered mountains all around the bottom. White threading details. A matching golden feather-boa and hair accessory.” Atticus watched the creativity dancing around in his boyfriend’s eyes.
“Want me to take a picture for you?” Atticus offered, and Felix nodded without looking away, thoughts still turning.
Chuckling, Atticus pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the marvelous view.
Now, he thought as he put his phone back in his pocket. Do it now.
He reached into his back pocket.
“Felix?”
The blonde made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Felix. . . I, um. . .”
Nervousness made his voice waver, and Felix finally looked away from the view, noticing that Atticus was shifting on his feet, anxiously looking at him.
“Lovely? What’s wrong?”
Attics shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, baby. I just. . . um. . .” He chewed on his words before sighing, and handing a thin, rectangular white box to Felix.
The blonde stopped hugging him to take it. “What’s this?” He turned it over in his hand, fingers running over the little seashell-shaped sticker on the corner. “You got me a gift?”
Atticus nodded, one hand still behind his back, though Felix was too busy shimmying the white box open to notice. The lid came off, and Felix’s eyes widened. “Oh, Atti,” he sighed, pulling out the rosegold necklace Atticus had bought for him. “This is beautiful. I love it. I love it so much!”
Blushing furiously, Atticus listened to Felix coo over the little turtle-shaped charm on the necklace as he pulled out his other hand from behind his back. He held it out, catching Felix’s attention. Seeing just the shape of this box—a little cube-shaped box—Felix sent silent, eyes widening. “Atticus. . . what’s that? That can’t be. . . we’re too young to. . .”
Too young? Too young to what? Too young to. . . oh. . .
Oh shit.
“I’m not proposing!” Atticus quickly clarified, suddenly realising how this must’ve looked to Felix. Dammit, I already messed this up. He cursed under his breath, running his free hand through his hair. “That’s not what this is!” He started rambling. “I-I’m not ready for that, trust me. I mean, we haven’t even graduated yet! You still need to make your brand, and I don’t even know what medicine I want to specialise in, so there’s no way either of us are gonna be ready to put a ring on it for a while. Trust me, I’m not ready for that. But as for this. . . I mean, it is technically a ring, but not an engagement ring! I’m sor—”
Atticus made a squeak-like sound in his throat as Felix suddenly cupped his face and kissed him, shutting him up. “Atti, lovely, breathe please. Slow down.”
He hadn’t realised his heart had started racing. Geez, why was this making him so nervous?
Taking a deep breath, Atticus looked Felix in the eyes. “I love you, Felix. So much. And I love that you’re a part of my life. You’re so talented and creative, and I genuinely think that you might actually be a rainbow-unicorn or something that reincarnated as a human.” Felix laughed at that. “My life is so much brighter with you in it. So, I wanted to give you this.”
Felix watched as Atticus opened the box, revealing a ring of intricately twisted and woven rose gold wires, the wires forming a little heart on top. He let out a little gasp. “Atti, it’s so cute.”
“It’s a promise ring,” Atticus said at last. “I love you. I want to promise myself to you, Felix.”
For a second, nothing was said. No move to take the ring was made.
Atticus felt himself falter slightly, wondering if this was too much. If he was being too much.
Then, Felix sniffed.
Atticus took in the combination of Felix’s tears with his bright, wide smile. “I love you too, lovely.” He carefully pulled the ring from the box, slipping it onto his finger. It fit perfectly.
Atticus grabbed Felix’s hand gently, lifting it to his lips, kissing the ring, smiling dumbly with tears suddenly in his eyes as well.
“I swear to god, if you change my contract photo to a unicorn, I’m changing yours to a block of cheese. You cheesy bastard,” Felix warned, still smiling.
Atticus laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him deeply on the lips. “No promises.”
“You literally just gave me a promise ring.”
“The ring doesn’t cover all promises, my beautiful rainbow unicorn.”
"I gotta tell you something," Leo blurted out, as Jonah climbed into bed with him, a whole day after they had left the Atwood's residence.
His whole body was still achy from the fever, throat and abdomen still sore from the violent heaving, belly still upset. It was not the best time to go telling Jonah anything, but Leo couldn't help it, keeping the secret was driving him crazy.
"What?" Jon frowned, sitting on his heels on the bed, hands lathered with lotion he was rubbing on his forearms and elbows, "what is it?"
"UHm- Okay, just know no one told me, I just found out by chance and it wasn't my secret to tell... Oh, that's nice," Leo interrupted himself as Jon squirted another dollop of lotion on his palm and hiked Leo's shirt up, spreading it on his still bloated belly. His thoughts vanished, whole body melting under the slippery belly rub-
"Leo," Jonah chuckled, "you were telling me something?"
Uh?
"Oh! Yeah, uhm-" Leo's cheeks caught on fire, embarrassed over having zoned out immediately under the gentle touch, "okay, so- I guess its inconsequential now, since they broke up, but Wendy and Vince were dating Max. Are. I don't know, actually," he watched Jon's face curiously, trying to read his expression. He seemed confused, then shocked, then a pout formed.
"Wendy didn't tell me that either," Jonah sighed, sounding defeated, "fuck. How long has this been going on?"
"Uh- I've known for about a week. I guessed it that day Max asked for my help with Vin when he was drunk, right after his birthday... And I got him to confess to it about a week ago, when I went check out his new place..."
"No, not how long you have known," Jon glared at him, hands frozen now, "how long this has been going on?"
"I guess, uhm- A month? I'm not entirely sure on the timeline, but I think they got together right after Max got the job here or something like that," Leo chewed on his bottom lip, "...are you mad at me?"
Part of him couldn't even blame Jonah if he was angry. Leo for sure would've been upset over being kept in the dark about something of this magnitude.
"No," Jon sighed, moving so he was down on his stomach on the bed, moving a hand around Leo's belly to spread the lotion, "just- I wish Wendy had told me."
Suddenly Leo wished Jonah was angry. It would've been one hell of a lot easier to hear than this despondent, hurt tone, "angel, you know Wendy's going through something... You said it yourself yesterday..."
"Yeah, I know," Jon sighed, "she relapsed when Vin moved back to town, so maybe- I don't know, I'm just guessing, maybe this whole mess with Max is part of it?"
Leo frowned at the thought, a stab of protective anger swelling in his chest.
"Wendy's outlandish behavior is not Max's fault," he said in a defensive manner and Jonah shrugged.
"I'm not saying it's his fault, I'm guessing he's just part of the reason behind this madness," he wiped the lotion off his on Leo's arm in and rolled on the bed, staring at the ceiling, "I miss my best friend."
Leo rolled onto his side, throwing himself over Jonah and eliciting a groan from the other man as his head hit Jon's chest smack in the middle, "Wendy's gonna get her shit together, Jon," he reassured him, "I'm so sorry, angel..."
There was a sad huff, then Jonah lowered his hand to the middle of Leo's back, rubbing it in soothing circles, that were probably more for his own benefit than the blonde's. It was doing on hell of a good job lulling him to sleep, though, after the previous rough 24 hours.
"Leo," Jon whispered, after what felt like ages later, but Leo knew was probably just a minute or two. A handful more and he'd have been fast asleep.
"Humm?"
Jonah's arms flexed around him, ushering him up and Leo let out a groan, but let himself be moved, so they were eye to eye. Jon's eyes were particularly green tonight, slightly hooded with sleepiness.
Leo's breath hitched slightly, exhaustion slipping his mind for a second as he quietly admired his husband, giddiness replacing it. No matter how many times he stared at the straight line of Jon's nose, the sharp jaw or the hazel in his eyes, it simply wasn't enough-
"I want a baby."
Oh.
Leo's brows met and he frowned, then let out a chuckle, smacking his mouth over Jon's, "I can't get you pregnant, but we can try," he said in a lazy, teasing manner, "like those seahorses-"
"What- LEO," Jonah chuckled, pulling back and shaking his head. Even with his dark, rich skin tone, Leo would tell he was blushing and he felt a smug. It was so rare he managed to make Jon blush like a schoolgirl, he wanted to do it again right away, "I didn't mean that."
"What did you mean?" Leo kissed him again, body complaining over the jostling around, but mind wide awake now, "uhm?"
"I meant," Jon planted his hand on Leo's forehead, pushing him off with an amused huff, "since we aren't getting pregnant-"
"Not with that attitude, we're not," Leo teased, grinning widely at Jon's frustrated scoff.
"-we should start talking actual logistics, because it'll probably take us a year or maybe more and like I said, I don't want to be a geriatric father."
"You're twenty six," Leo snorted, pulling away and falling on his back. It was a little too much movement on his already unsettled stomach and he had to press the back of his hand to his mouth, muffling a watery, gross burp, "ew- Reflux."
"Here," Jon passed him his water bottle, sitting back against the pillows, "yeah, we're twenty six, but like I said, we're not Luke and Bell, a baby won't magically fall from the sky, Leo. It'll take us a couple of years, so I'd rather we started the process now... And we have to actually talk about it first."
Leo gulped down a mouthful of water, then greedily chugged a little more. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. He nodded to show he was listening to Jon, gesturing with his hand for him to keep going.
Jonah rolled his eyes at his mannerisms, "I gotta do everything around here," he whispered darkly, then said in a matter of fact tone, "adoption or surrogate?"
Leo choked on the water, pulling back the bottle and glaring at it as if it had offended him. Okay, so they were doing this. He didn't feel like he was remotely adult enough for this conversation.
"Uh-"
"Surrogate we'd talk with an agency and pick someone to carry our babies, we could do multiple tries with mine and yours sperm and use an egg bank-"
"Hold-hold on," Leo held up his hand, shutting Jonah up, "let me- I don't want my genes involved in any of this."
Jonah looked flabbergasted, eyebrows jumping up, mouth agape, "what...? Why?! What the hell, Leo-" his brows met, offended, English accent coming out, "why not?"
"Because my genes are fucked," Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. That was quite an easy conclusion for him, specially after the fever dreams from the previous night, "does chronic depression ring any bells? Does alcoholism? My dad killed himself, I don't want our child to have any of this fucking mess in them."
Jon looked appalled, offended still, "you realize you can not be the donor, but we still might have a kid with depression, right? Children are a fucking lottery-"
"Yeah, I realize that, but my genetic lottery is more like a Russian roulette, Jonah," Leo glared at him, trying to convey just how dead serious he was, "I wanna give this kid a fighting chance, don't you?"
His husband let out a scoff, as if the thought was oh-so-silly, but Leo knew he made perfect sense.
"I want- I wanted your babies," Jonah pouted, sounding defeated, "looking like a Botticelli's painting, your eyes-"
"I look like any other blonde, Jonah," Leo rolled his eyes, "this is a deal breaker, I don't want my genes in this pool. It's my one demand."
There was a beat, then Jonah let out a sigh, nodding, "I guess... I guess we're going with adoption then...?"
"We could do a surrogate," Leo shrugged, "with your genes," a smile tugged on the corner of his lip at the mental image of a baby girl with extremely curly hair and hazel eyes.
"I don't know," Jon hesitated, "doesn't feel fair."
"Don't be silly, what does it matter if I won't contribute with genetic material, Jon?" Leo rolled his eyes, "it'll be our baby regardless..."
Jonah looked conflicted and young, twenty-six, which he rarely did. Normally his severe expression aged him up a good five or six years, people often thought there was an age gap between them and no one guessed that Leo was actually the older one of the couple.
"We don't have to decide it tonight, angel," Leo toyed with Jon's fingers, "think about it."
A nod, "I do know I want a baby, not a child," Jonah's cheeks were all dark again, much to Leo's amusement, "don't judge."
"Why would I?" Leo leaned in, stealing a sweet kiss, "why are you embarrassed? I don't understand..."
"You were in the system... At seventeen-"
"Just for a couple months," Leo shrugged, "adopting an older kid when that's not what you want won't fix what happened to me, Jon," he pressed his lips over his husband's, "you want a baby... I want a baby," he admitted, quietly, "a little tiny thing with your eyes-"
"So you understand why I'm bummed you don't wanna share yours?" Jonah scoffed, but grabbed Leo's chin, pulling him into a deeper kiss.
"Mine are just blue," Leo pulled back, pressing their foreheads together, "yours are a rarity."
"Agree to disagree," Jonah chuckled into his mouth, deepening the kiss and flipping them on the bed so he could be on top.
Aiden&Spirit — 2nd date {Kinda}!! + Spirit gets her period
Feverish Birdie + Isaac & Spirit caretakers
The Ask Game!!
Crampy and burpy Aiden + soft & flustered Spirit
Atticus & Keiko both get food poisoning on a double date
Feverish Isaac + Isaac’s grandma & Keiko caretakers
Overworked Keiko + Caretakers Amberlynn & Jordan
Spirit with a stress migraine + caretaker Oliver
Meeting Eliana’s family+ stomach flu + major angst (part 1)
Eliana’s stomach flu (part 2)
{A few years back} Spirit has a breakdown + multiple caretakers
Spirit’s appendicitis fic
Overstuffed Keiko on a date + Caretaker Amberlynn + FLUFFF
Burpy & feverish Aiden + Isaac & Oliver caretakers
Oliver has food poisoning + Isaac caretaker
Spirit has a panic attack because of Zeke + multiple protective caretakers (part 1) (part 2)
Stressed Amberlynn gets food poisoning + Felix caretaker + Fluffy Keiko
Halloween Series
Aiden overindulges on candy
Oliver gets jealous at event + IsaacxOliver!!
Atticus wants attention *no whump*
Friendsgiving: Oliver x Isaac announce they’re together
Spirit’s mom shows up + migraine fic
Migraine fic Part 2
Birdie forgets her meds + lil argument with Spirit
Oliver has high fever and is overworked + caretaker Isaac
Isaac has a migraine (mini-fic)
Spirit has food poisoning + Aiden caretaker
Vacation Series
Carsick Oliver + caretaker Isaac
Spirit’s phobia - part 1
Feverish Atticus + guilty Felix - part 1
Eliana talks to Aaron about him coming out (Nolan intro!)
Spirit’s phobia - part 2
Keiko gets heatstroke/sunburn
Atticus & Felix - part 2
So done with this series!!😭 This took way longer than I thought, and life decided to take me on a very stressful rollercoaster lately.
Kept this short, sweet, and happy. No angst, no whump, just fluff. Enjoy!!😉
———————————————————————————————
Felix snuck himself under Atticus’s arm, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist as they followed the tour guide leading them through the Adamson House Museum.
Ever since his little bug at the start of the trip, Atticus noticed Felix suddenly being extremely clingy, likely still feeling bad despite Atticus insisting he wasn’t even the least bit upset at all.
Felix had even gone through the trouble of researching things to do in Malibu away from beaches and pools, fully focused on making sure Atticus would enjoy himself. After realizing there was no stopping him, Atticus just sighed and accepted his fate.
No matter what he said, he was gonna get spoiled.
Atticus looked down at Felix and smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. The blonde looked up at him, the green in his eyes matching the summer blouse he was wearing, and he smiled, pecking Atticus on the lips.
Both of them looked back at the tour guide who was leading the tour group outside to look at the tiled fountain outside. Behind the fountain was a view of the afternoon sunset reflecting on the ocean, mountains standing tall in the distance, and Felix let out a soft sigh of awe. It was truly a beautiful sight. Perfect.
The perfect moment.
In the back pocket of Atticus’s pants, mere inches below where Felix’s arm was hugged around his waist, were the two gifts he’d bought for Felix. He’d waited and waited for an opportunity, heart pounding every time as it was doing at that very moment.
The guide told everyone on the tour to go ahead and explore the grounds. Atticus wasn’t surprised when Felix stayed right where he was, just staring at the view.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Felix grinned up at him. “A ballgown, orange at the top and fading down to pink and blue to look like a sunset, and navy-blue embroidered mountains all around the bottom. White threading details. A matching golden feather-boa and hair accessory.” Atticus watched the creativity dancing around in his boyfriend’s eyes.
“Want me to take a picture for you?” Atticus offered, and Felix nodded without looking away, thoughts still turning.
Chuckling, Atticus pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the marvelous view.
Now, he thought as he put his phone back in his pocket. Do it now.
He reached into his back pocket.
“Felix?”
The blonde made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Felix. . . I, um. . .”
Nervousness made his voice waver, and Felix finally looked away from the view, noticing that Atticus was shifting on his feet, anxiously looking at him.
“Lovely? What’s wrong?”
Attics shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, baby. I just. . . um. . .” He chewed on his words before sighing, and handing a thin, rectangular white box to Felix.
The blonde stopped hugging him to take it. “What’s this?” He turned it over in his hand, fingers running over the little seashell-shaped sticker on the corner. “You got me a gift?”
Atticus nodded, one hand still behind his back, though Felix was too busy shimmying the white box open to notice. The lid came off, and Felix’s eyes widened. “Oh, Atti,” he sighed, pulling out the rosegold necklace Atticus had bought for him. “This is beautiful. I love it. I love it so much!”
Blushing furiously, Atticus listened to Felix coo over the little turtle-shaped charm on the necklace as he pulled out his other hand from behind his back. He held it out, catching Felix’s attention. Seeing just the shape of this box—a little cube-shaped box—Felix sent silent, eyes widening. “Atticus. . . what’s that? That can’t be. . . we’re too young to. . .”
Too young? Too young to what? Too young to. . . oh. . .
Oh shit.
“I’m not proposing!” Atticus quickly clarified, suddenly realising how this must’ve looked to Felix. Dammit, I already messed this up. He cursed under his breath, running his free hand through his hair. “That’s not what this is!” He started rambling. “I-I’m not ready for that, trust me. I mean, we haven’t even graduated yet! You still need to make your brand, and I don’t even know what medicine I want to specialise in, so there’s no way either of us are gonna be ready to put a ring on it for a while. Trust me, I’m not ready for that. But as for this. . . I mean, it is technically a ring, but not an engagement ring! I’m sor—”
Atticus made a squeak-like sound in his throat as Felix suddenly cupped his face and kissed him, shutting him up. “Atti, lovely, breathe please. Slow down.”
He hadn’t realised his heart had started racing. Geez, why was this making him so nervous?
Taking a deep breath, Atticus looked Felix in the eyes. “I love you, Felix. So much. And I love that you’re a part of my life. You’re so talented and creative, and I genuinely think that you might actually be a rainbow-unicorn or something that reincarnated as a human.” Felix laughed at that. “My life is so much brighter with you in it. So, I wanted to give you this.”
Felix watched as Atticus opened the box, revealing a ring of intricately twisted and woven rose gold wires, the wires forming a little heart on top. He let out a little gasp. “Atti, it’s so cute.”
“It’s a promise ring,” Atticus said at last. “I love you. I want to promise myself to you, Felix.”
For a second, nothing was said. No move to take the ring was made.
Atticus felt himself falter slightly, wondering if this was too much. If he was being too much.
Then, Felix sniffed.
Atticus took in the combination of Felix’s tears with his bright, wide smile. “I love you too, lovely.” He carefully pulled the ring from the box, slipping it onto his finger. It fit perfectly.
Atticus grabbed Felix’s hand gently, lifting it to his lips, kissing the ring, smiling dumbly with tears suddenly in his eyes as well.
“I swear to god, if you change my contract photo to a unicorn, I’m changing yours to a block of cheese. You cheesy bastard,” Felix warned, still smiling.
Atticus laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him deeply on the lips. “No promises.”
“You literally just gave me a promise ring.”
“The ring doesn’t cover all promises, my beautiful rainbow unicorn.”
This took WAYYYYYYYY too long to finish!!! Like, 6 months too late and I'm sooooooooooooooo freaking sorry!!!!!! I promise, I have fics coming up soon! I'm back! I missed ya'll, and I apologise profusely!!!
The last fic of the Vacation Series will be done soon (in January, I'm so sorry), and then let's just pretend that it's still fall for a bit, okay???😅😅😅
————————————————————————
Malibu.
Amberlynn decided that she loved Malibu.
Sure, she could see what drew her dads to San Diego, but Malibu was just perfect.
Keiko thought something else.
Yes, he also thought Malibu was very beautiful, but the only thing her considered to be ‘perfect’ was the sight of his damn-near ethereal girlfriend as she stood at the edge of the cliff that loomed over the edge of the water, waves crashing against the bottom of it and spraying sparkling droplets into the air. Keiko looked up at her from the sandy beach below, almost in shock that his girlfriend looked so unbelievably gorgeous, like someone out of a fairytale.
Her beach dress was bluer than the water, with a slit that went almost all the way up her thigh. The fabric was flowy and slightly frilly. Her curls were wild and beautiful from the salty spray, tumbling over her shoulders and blowing in the wind as well. God, she looks like a princess, he thought. Then, he mentally corrected, not a princess. A goddess.
It was just the two of them at that particular part of the beach, far enough of a walk away that it was entirely secluded. Most of the others were at a more crowded part of the beach, closer to their second hotel. Birdie had gone hunting for more hippie-like decor for her apartment, Atticus and Felix had once again gone off to do their own thing, and Aiden had taken Spirit on a mini bookstore-coffee-music-snack-finding excursion since—completely understandably—she wasn’t in the mood to hang out around water anymore.
Sweating, Keiko fully unbuttoned his white shirt. He watched his girlfriend as if she was something completely magical, practically hypnotized by her dazzling smile.
He loved her so much. She was literally perfect.
“Should I jump?”
Wait. Wtf?
Amberlynn looked away from the horizon and down at Keiko. “Should I jump?” she yelled down again.
His eyes went wide, his dopy and love-struck smile instantly falling into a gawp. “Um. . . No?!”
She giggled. “Awww, c’mon! It’s not too high, Kei.”
“There could be rocks under the water. Please, baby, don’t even think about it.”
She sighed fondly at his genuine concern. “Come up here,” she told him. “It’s beautiful!”
That was something Keiko was okay with. So he made his way up the steep trail—abandoning his sandals with the rest of their stuff so he could hike up easier—and got to the top in just minutes.
Amberlynn had turned to look at the blue horizon once again. Keiko came up behind her, his hands circling her waist as he pressed his front against her, leaning in to press a warm kiss her sun-flushed cheek. In his white shirt and pants that matched the blue of her dress, he knew they must’ve looked like the picture-perfect couple. Or, at least, she was the picture-perfect girlfriend who made him look better by sheer association.
“I was thinking,” she said cheekily, “that maybe we should try. . . it.”
Keiko raised a brow. “Try what?”
She chuckled. “Y’know. It. Here. On the beach?”
It took a second for it to click, and Kei threw his head back laughing. “Sex on the beach?!!” he all but squealed.
Amberlynn started laughing too.
“Am, baby, you’re joking, right?”
“Hell yeah, I’m joking. Sex on the beach is an itchy nightmare waiting to happen.”
Keiko shuddered at the mere thought. "Oh God, sand in places you never want to have sand. Bleh."
She nodded in agreement.
"Do you wanna head back down and swim?"
Amberlynn thought for a moment before turning around, reaching up to grab Kei's face, forcing him to bend down so she could kiss him. He let out a surprised noise, and then chuckled against her lips as he kissed back, melting at the sensation of her warm lips.
She smiled when Kei tried to follow her as she pulled back from the kiss. She put a finger to his lips, pushing him back a bit and making him groan disappointedly. “Actually,” she said, “I kinda just wanna sit up here. This feels like the perfect place to just… be.”
Kei softened, smiling and nodding as he grabbed her wrist to lower her finger from his face. “Okay. Different plan then. You stay here and pose on this cliff like the absolute sea-queen you are, and I’ll run over to that boardwalk we saw and I'll be back here in under thirty minutes with sandwiches so we can have a little picnic on this cliff.”
At the mention of food, Kei’s bottomless-pit of a girlfriend perked up. “Okay. Deal.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.
— — —
Keiko felt like an idiot. Thirty minutes? The hell was he thinking?!
He’d underestimated a couple of things:
One, the weakness his legs had after an entire school year of barely having time to stand up from his desk.
And two, the f-ing heat!
And what’s worse was that the little place he’d found to get some sandwiches only had warm bottled water, so as he drank it in a desperate attempt to wet his dry throat, it did nothing to cool him off.
It didn't help that the sun seemed to get hotter and hotter with each passing second. God, he felt like he was damn-near on fire!
He got back to the secluded little area, spotting Amberlynn no longer on the cliff but rather under their rented-umbrella on the sand, rummaging through their stuff before pulling out their sunscreen bottle.
Shit, did I remembered to put on sunscreen?
A stinging sensation on his face and arms answered that question pretty damn well for him.
When Amberlynn spotted him, she brightened instantly, only for her smile to fall as she took in his appearance.
Was he red? Probably. And probably soaked in sweat, too. Damn, it was really hot! And he felt so dizzy. Keiko felt like absolute shit.
“Baby?” Amberlynn asked as she jogged over to him. “Kei, are you okay?”
Keiko would’ve opened his mouth to respond, but the issue was that his jaw felt like drying cement.
“Keiko?” Amberlynn cupped his face—making him wince when the touch made the stinging so much worse—her eyes widening as she touched his cheeks, forehead, neck. . . “Your skin is burning! Is this a fever?”
Keiko shook his head, only to refit as his center of gravity got thrown off. He tilted, barely managing to catch himself. He did, however, drop the bag of food. Amberlynn couldn’t care less though.
She looked so worried. And Keiko felt like shit for absolutely ruining the mood. "Mmm'dzy," he mumbled, his mouth dry and his words sticking together. Though, he'd felt completely fine earlier, so he was quite certain that something else—not a fever—was wrong with him.
He mentally started checking off everything that felt wrong. Nausea, dizziness, exhaustion, extreme heat, an unusual lack of sweat. . .
"Hisssr—" He coughed. His mouth and throat felt dry. He licked his lips, and tried again, "He-heatstroke."
Amberlynn's eyes widened and she nibbled down on her bottom lip a bit. "Sunburn too, I'm guessing? You're really red, baby." When he winced as she gently touched his cheek, she knew she guessed right. "Okay. Shit, okay. Let's go back to the hotel, baby. I'll call us an uber. There's no way you can walk back."
They'd walked over to that part of the beach earlier in the day, when it had been cooler. But now, with the condition Keiko was in, Amberlynn knew that if the walk to-and-from the boardwalk was bad, then going back to the hotel would be absolute hell.
Keiko didn't dare to nod, clenching his jaw in an effort to stifle that nauseous feeling that tended to come hand-in-hand with dizziness. The warm water in his belly, along with the pancakes from the hotel's complimentary breakfast bar, sloshed disgustingly in his stomach. He burped and cringed disgustedly since he could taste the f-ing maple syrup! Bleh!
Abandoning the food, Amberlynn put a hand on Keiko's back and coaxed him forward, bringing him over to sit on a towel beneath their rented umbrella. From her tote bag, much to Keiko's utter astonishment, Amberlynn pulled out a full and cold water bottle, condensation dripping off the sides of it. When Amberlynn handed it to him, he didn't drink, putting it against the back of his neck and practically moaning at the relief that brought him. He moved it to his face, rubbing the water bottle over his cheeks and forehead as Amberlynn opened the Uber app on her phone.
He finally opened the bottle drinking and emptying half the bottle, regardless of how that made his head spin so much worse. He was desperate to cool off. He was so hot!
From his side, he felt. . . a really small breeze?
He looked and saw his girlfriend absentmindedly fanning him with a magazine whilst booking the Uber on her phone, her brows pinched with worry and her concerned frown looking more like a pout.
With a sigh, he shut his eyes and touched the cold bottle to his forehead again, hoping that the Uber would get there soon.
His head spun, and he couldn't tell if he felt like he was more likely to throw up or pass out. Neither, he hoped.
It took about ten minutes for an Uber to pull up on the road near the beach. Amberlynn refused to let Keiko carry anything to the Uber, scoffing and saying, "I barely trust you to put one foot in front of the other right now, dummy. I'll get the stuff."
So he relented, allowing her to force him to wait in the back seat of the uber while she miraculously made a singular quick trip with all of their stuff, stuffed bags hung on one arm while the rented umbrella was folded and carried under her other. The driver—a nice elderly man with a Spanish accent—helped her put the stuff in the trunk, and then she got in the back with Kei.
"We'll be at the hotel soon," she promised him.
With an acknowledging sound in the back of his throat, he leaned his head against her shoulder, relishing in the small relief the car's AC brought him. His skin still stung and his head was still spinning though.
Just like Amberlynn said, it wasn't a long drive, but it still felt like forever since every turn or bump made Keiko's stomach leap, his eyes squeezing shut tighter with each movement.
Amberlynn had texted someone during the ride, and when the car parked at the hotel, Amberlynn got out first and started talking to someone. He started to get out of the car as well, standing up, but he let out a pained groan as the movement sent a horrible wave of pain through his brain.
"Take it easy, idiot," Jordan said, and Keiko looked up at her. She was smirking, a perfectly-plucked brow raised at him. "You look like shit. Well, more than you do on a regular basis."
He scoffed. "Gee. Thanks, brat." He outstretched a hand. "Help me up."
Setting the teasing aside, Jordan softened and nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him up out of the car. She hooked his arm over her shoulder, despite their height difference, and shut the door with her foot as she moved him away from the car.
Amberlynn had once again managed to get all of their stuff at once. "You okay, baby?" she asked him.
He nodded, managing a nauseous smile. "Sorta."
Jordan walked with him inside, muttering that he better not fall on her or else he'll pay with cheesy chips and blood, following Amberlynn into the lobby.
"Take him upstairs and get him in a cool shower," Amberlynn told Jordan, putting some stuff down to hand her the room keycard. "I'm gonna return our umbrella, and then I'll be up."
Jordan nodded and led her brother to the elevator. Inside the elevator, he leaned off of Jordan and against the cold metal wall, shivering with relief as the coldness brought some relief to his burned skin.
"So hot," he mumbled.
"Almost there," Jordan said reassuringly. "Once Am's up in the room with you, I'll run and get you some aloe or something for your skin, okay? You've got a nasty sunburn."
He was well aware of that, considering he could already feel the tightened top layer of his stinging skin, and he knew he'd be peeling in no time.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and Jordan quickly made her way to Kei's room. The AC, thankfully, had been left on blast all day, and a rush of cold air met them as the door opened. Keiko made a relieved sound deep in his throat, genuinely considering giving the air conditioner machine a hug.
"Okay, shower time." He was still in his swim trunks, so she just left him how he was as she coaxed him into the shower. He sat on the shower floor as she put the shower head on a gentler setting, and then turned the cold water on. He gasped at the shock of the coldness, but it soon felt soothing. He sighed, practically melting from the relief his skin felt. Even though his stomach still felt a little off, he felt more exhausted than anything, and the water felt so nice.
He shut his eyes, deciding to rest just for a minute. . .
Keiko startled awake as small, cold hands cupped his face. He opened his eyes and saw Amberlynn giving him a small smile.
"Hey, Kei," she said. "C'mon, you can keep sleeping in bed."
He didn't want to move. He was so freaking tired and dizzy, and that really nice water. . .
Before he could protest, Amberlynn shut the water off.
With a sigh, he allowed her to help him stand. Little pinpricks of pain went up and down his skin, though not nearly as bad as before. Amberlynn had brought clothes into the bathroom, and helped him take off his swim trunks to put the boxers and shorts on. He didn't bother asking why she didn't give him a shirt, shuddering at the thought of fabric brushing against the irritated skin on his back.
He left the bathroom and cautiously lowered himself on the bed, cringing and hissing as the sheet rubbed his skin. He laid down and tried to stay as still as possible.
"I can't believe that you—Dr. Mother Hen—forgot to put on sunscreen," she chuckled not sitting on the bed so as to not shift the sheets against his skin. Instead, she took the rolling chair by the room's desk and rolled it over, sitting and brushing a hand through his hair as she watched him. "Jor went to get something for your skin. She'll be back soon."
Keiko sighed, cringing and smiling softly at the same time. "This is shaping up to be one hell of a vacation, isn't it?"
Amberlynn chuckled softly and sighed, nodding.
"I'm sorry we couldn't have a picnic on top of a cliff," he mumbled, his eyes already drooping as sleep pulled at him.
She shook her head, her fond smile unwavering. "It's fine, Kei. You doing better? You feel sick?"
He shook his head, suddenly aware that the icky feeling in his gut was barely noticeable then. "I'm fine, sweetheart."
She turned a bit pink, leaning in to press a very gentle kiss against the tip of his nose. "Sleep, baby. I'll wake you up once Jor gets back."
He nodded, letting his eyes shut fully. But before he fell asleep, he mumbled softly, "Am?"
This took WAYYYYYYYY too long to finish!!! Like, 6 months too late and I'm sooooooooooooooo freaking sorry!!!!!! I promise, I have fics coming up soon! I'm back! I missed ya'll, and I apologise profusely!!!
The last fic of the Vacation Series will be done soon (in January, I'm so sorry), and then let's just pretend that it's still fall for a bit, okay???😅😅😅
————————————————————————
Malibu.
Amberlynn decided that she loved Malibu.
Sure, she could see what drew her dads to San Diego, but Malibu was just perfect.
Keiko thought something else.
Yes, he also thought Malibu was very beautiful, but the only thing her considered to be ‘perfect’ was the sight of his damn-near ethereal girlfriend as she stood at the edge of the cliff that loomed over the edge of the water, waves crashing against the bottom of it and spraying sparkling droplets into the air. Keiko looked up at her from the sandy beach below, almost in shock that his girlfriend looked so unbelievably gorgeous, like someone out of a fairytale.
Her beach dress was bluer than the water, with a slit that went almost all the way up her thigh. The fabric was flowy and slightly frilly. Her curls were wild and beautiful from the salty spray, tumbling over her shoulders and blowing in the wind as well. God, she looks like a princess, he thought. Then, he mentally corrected, not a princess. A goddess.
It was just the two of them at that particular part of the beach, far enough of a walk away that it was entirely secluded. Most of the others were at a more crowded part of the beach, closer to their second hotel. Birdie had gone hunting for more hippie-like decor for her apartment, Atticus and Felix had once again gone off to do their own thing, and Aiden had taken Spirit on a mini bookstore-coffee-music-snack-finding excursion since—completely understandably—she wasn’t in the mood to hang out around water anymore.
Sweating, Keiko fully unbuttoned his white shirt. He watched his girlfriend as if she was something completely magical, practically hypnotized by her dazzling smile.
He loved her so much. She was literally perfect.
“Should I jump?”
Wait. Wtf?
Amberlynn looked away from the horizon and down at Keiko. “Should I jump?” she yelled down again.
His eyes went wide, his dopy and love-struck smile instantly falling into a gawp. “Um. . . No?!”
She giggled. “Awww, c’mon! It’s not too high, Kei.”
“There could be rocks under the water. Please, baby, don’t even think about it.”
She sighed fondly at his genuine concern. “Come up here,” she told him. “It’s beautiful!”
That was something Keiko was okay with. So he made his way up the steep trail—abandoning his sandals with the rest of their stuff so he could hike up easier—and got to the top in just minutes.
Amberlynn had turned to look at the blue horizon once again. Keiko came up behind her, his hands circling her waist as he pressed his front against her, leaning in to press a warm kiss her sun-flushed cheek. In his white shirt and pants that matched the blue of her dress, he knew they must’ve looked like the picture-perfect couple. Or, at least, she was the picture-perfect girlfriend who made him look better by sheer association.
“I was thinking,” she said cheekily, “that maybe we should try. . . it.”
Keiko raised a brow. “Try what?”
She chuckled. “Y’know. It. Here. On the beach?”
It took a second for it to click, and Kei threw his head back laughing. “Sex on the beach?!!” he all but squealed.
Amberlynn started laughing too.
“Am, baby, you’re joking, right?”
“Hell yeah, I’m joking. Sex on the beach is an itchy nightmare waiting to happen.”
Keiko shuddered at the mere thought. "Oh God, sand in places you never want to have sand. Bleh."
She nodded in agreement.
"Do you wanna head back down and swim?"
Amberlynn thought for a moment before turning around, reaching up to grab Kei's face, forcing him to bend down so she could kiss him. He let out a surprised noise, and then chuckled against her lips as he kissed back, melting at the sensation of her warm lips.
She smiled when Kei tried to follow her as she pulled back from the kiss. She put a finger to his lips, pushing him back a bit and making him groan disappointedly. “Actually,” she said, “I kinda just wanna sit up here. This feels like the perfect place to just… be.”
Kei softened, smiling and nodding as he grabbed her wrist to lower her finger from his face. “Okay. Different plan then. You stay here and pose on this cliff like the absolute sea-queen you are, and I’ll run over to that boardwalk we saw and I'll be back here in under thirty minutes with sandwiches so we can have a little picnic on this cliff.”
At the mention of food, Kei’s bottomless-pit of a girlfriend perked up. “Okay. Deal.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.
— — —
Keiko felt like an idiot. Thirty minutes? The hell was he thinking?!
He’d underestimated a couple of things:
One, the weakness his legs had after an entire school year of barely having time to stand up from his desk.
And two, the f-ing heat!
And what’s worse was that the little place he’d found to get some sandwiches only had warm bottled water, so as he drank it in a desperate attempt to wet his dry throat, it did nothing to cool him off.
It didn't help that the sun seemed to get hotter and hotter with each passing second. God, he felt like he was damn-near on fire!
He got back to the secluded little area, spotting Amberlynn no longer on the cliff but rather under their rented-umbrella on the sand, rummaging through their stuff before pulling out their sunscreen bottle.
Shit, did I remembered to put on sunscreen?
A stinging sensation on his face and arms answered that question pretty damn well for him.
When Amberlynn spotted him, she brightened instantly, only for her smile to fall as she took in his appearance.
Was he red? Probably. And probably soaked in sweat, too. Damn, it was really hot! And he felt so dizzy. Keiko felt like absolute shit.
“Baby?” Amberlynn asked as she jogged over to him. “Kei, are you okay?”
Keiko would’ve opened his mouth to respond, but the issue was that his jaw felt like drying cement.
“Keiko?” Amberlynn cupped his face—making him wince when the touch made the stinging so much worse—her eyes widening as she touched his cheeks, forehead, neck. . . “Your skin is burning! Is this a fever?”
Keiko shook his head, only to refit as his center of gravity got thrown off. He tilted, barely managing to catch himself. He did, however, drop the bag of food. Amberlynn couldn’t care less though.
She looked so worried. And Keiko felt like shit for absolutely ruining the mood. "Mmm'dzy," he mumbled, his mouth dry and his words sticking together. Though, he'd felt completely fine earlier, so he was quite certain that something else—not a fever—was wrong with him.
He mentally started checking off everything that felt wrong. Nausea, dizziness, exhaustion, extreme heat, an unusual lack of sweat. . .
"Hisssr—" He coughed. His mouth and throat felt dry. He licked his lips, and tried again, "He-heatstroke."
Amberlynn's eyes widened and she nibbled down on her bottom lip a bit. "Sunburn too, I'm guessing? You're really red, baby." When he winced as she gently touched his cheek, she knew she guessed right. "Okay. Shit, okay. Let's go back to the hotel, baby. I'll call us an uber. There's no way you can walk back."
They'd walked over to that part of the beach earlier in the day, when it had been cooler. But now, with the condition Keiko was in, Amberlynn knew that if the walk to-and-from the boardwalk was bad, then going back to the hotel would be absolute hell.
Keiko didn't dare to nod, clenching his jaw in an effort to stifle that nauseous feeling that tended to come hand-in-hand with dizziness. The warm water in his belly, along with the pancakes from the hotel's complimentary breakfast bar, sloshed disgustingly in his stomach. He burped and cringed disgustedly since he could taste the f-ing maple syrup! Bleh!
Abandoning the food, Amberlynn put a hand on Keiko's back and coaxed him forward, bringing him over to sit on a towel beneath their rented umbrella. From her tote bag, much to Keiko's utter astonishment, Amberlynn pulled out a full and cold water bottle, condensation dripping off the sides of it. When Amberlynn handed it to him, he didn't drink, putting it against the back of his neck and practically moaning at the relief that brought him. He moved it to his face, rubbing the water bottle over his cheeks and forehead as Amberlynn opened the Uber app on her phone.
He finally opened the bottle drinking and emptying half the bottle, regardless of how that made his head spin so much worse. He was desperate to cool off. He was so hot!
From his side, he felt. . . a really small breeze?
He looked and saw his girlfriend absentmindedly fanning him with a magazine whilst booking the Uber on her phone, her brows pinched with worry and her concerned frown looking more like a pout.
With a sigh, he shut his eyes and touched the cold bottle to his forehead again, hoping that the Uber would get there soon.
His head spun, and he couldn't tell if he felt like he was more likely to throw up or pass out. Neither, he hoped.
It took about ten minutes for an Uber to pull up on the road near the beach. Amberlynn refused to let Keiko carry anything to the Uber, scoffing and saying, "I barely trust you to put one foot in front of the other right now, dummy. I'll get the stuff."
So he relented, allowing her to force him to wait in the back seat of the uber while she miraculously made a singular quick trip with all of their stuff, stuffed bags hung on one arm while the rented umbrella was folded and carried under her other. The driver—a nice elderly man with a Spanish accent—helped her put the stuff in the trunk, and then she got in the back with Kei.
"We'll be at the hotel soon," she promised him.
With an acknowledging sound in the back of his throat, he leaned his head against her shoulder, relishing in the small relief the car's AC brought him. His skin still stung and his head was still spinning though.
Just like Amberlynn said, it wasn't a long drive, but it still felt like forever since every turn or bump made Keiko's stomach leap, his eyes squeezing shut tighter with each movement.
Amberlynn had texted someone during the ride, and when the car parked at the hotel, Amberlynn got out first and started talking to someone. He started to get out of the car as well, standing up, but he let out a pained groan as the movement sent a horrible wave of pain through his brain.
"Take it easy, idiot," Jordan said, and Keiko looked up at her. She was smirking, a perfectly-plucked brow raised at him. "You look like shit. Well, more than you do on a regular basis."
He scoffed. "Gee. Thanks, brat." He outstretched a hand. "Help me up."
Setting the teasing aside, Jordan softened and nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him up out of the car. She hooked his arm over her shoulder, despite their height difference, and shut the door with her foot as she moved him away from the car.
Amberlynn had once again managed to get all of their stuff at once. "You okay, baby?" she asked him.
He nodded, managing a nauseous smile. "Sorta."
Jordan walked with him inside, muttering that he better not fall on her or else he'll pay with cheesy chips and blood, following Amberlynn into the lobby.
"Take him upstairs and get him in a cool shower," Amberlynn told Jordan, putting some stuff down to hand her the room keycard. "I'm gonna return our umbrella, and then I'll be up."
Jordan nodded and led her brother to the elevator. Inside the elevator, he leaned off of Jordan and against the cold metal wall, shivering with relief as the coldness brought some relief to his burned skin.
"So hot," he mumbled.
"Almost there," Jordan said reassuringly. "Once Am's up in the room with you, I'll run and get you some aloe or something for your skin, okay? You've got a nasty sunburn."
He was well aware of that, considering he could already feel the tightened top layer of his stinging skin, and he knew he'd be peeling in no time.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and Jordan quickly made her way to Kei's room. The AC, thankfully, had been left on blast all day, and a rush of cold air met them as the door opened. Keiko made a relieved sound deep in his throat, genuinely considering giving the air conditioner machine a hug.
"Okay, shower time." He was still in his swim trunks, so she just left him how he was as she coaxed him into the shower. He sat on the shower floor as she put the shower head on a gentler setting, and then turned the cold water on. He gasped at the shock of the coldness, but it soon felt soothing. He sighed, practically melting from the relief his skin felt. Even though his stomach still felt a little off, he felt more exhausted than anything, and the water felt so nice.
He shut his eyes, deciding to rest just for a minute. . .
Keiko startled awake as small, cold hands cupped his face. He opened his eyes and saw Amberlynn giving him a small smile.
"Hey, Kei," she said. "C'mon, you can keep sleeping in bed."
He didn't want to move. He was so freaking tired and dizzy, and that really nice water. . .
Before he could protest, Amberlynn shut the water off.
With a sigh, he allowed her to help him stand. Little pinpricks of pain went up and down his skin, though not nearly as bad as before. Amberlynn had brought clothes into the bathroom, and helped him take off his swim trunks to put the boxers and shorts on. He didn't bother asking why she didn't give him a shirt, shuddering at the thought of fabric brushing against the irritated skin on his back.
He left the bathroom and cautiously lowered himself on the bed, cringing and hissing as the sheet rubbed his skin. He laid down and tried to stay as still as possible.
"I can't believe that you—Dr. Mother Hen—forgot to put on sunscreen," she chuckled not sitting on the bed so as to not shift the sheets against his skin. Instead, she took the rolling chair by the room's desk and rolled it over, sitting and brushing a hand through his hair as she watched him. "Jor went to get something for your skin. She'll be back soon."
Keiko sighed, cringing and smiling softly at the same time. "This is shaping up to be one hell of a vacation, isn't it?"
Amberlynn chuckled softly and sighed, nodding.
"I'm sorry we couldn't have a picnic on top of a cliff," he mumbled, his eyes already drooping as sleep pulled at him.
She shook her head, her fond smile unwavering. "It's fine, Kei. You doing better? You feel sick?"
He shook his head, suddenly aware that the icky feeling in his gut was barely noticeable then. "I'm fine, sweetheart."
She turned a bit pink, leaning in to press a very gentle kiss against the tip of his nose. "Sleep, baby. I'll wake you up once Jor gets back."
He nodded, letting his eyes shut fully. But before he fell asleep, he mumbled softly, "Am?"
