"No, really man, I think I'm alright this time," Charlie croaked, leaning on Mac on the couch.
"Oh come on Charlie. You've been puking all night and every time you say that you-" Mac was cut off by Charlie sprinting to the bathroom of their apartment. He heard him heave and he cringed, getting up and following his boyfriend. He came in just when Charlie finished the actual vomiting. Now he was dry-heaving, just a sign that he was finally done.
He stopped after a full three minutes before leaning up from his portrait frame that also acted as a toilet seat to catch his breath. Mac kneeled down and rubbed his back.
"Alright, I think you're really done this time."
Charlie nodded. "Y-yeah."
Mac helped him up and in front of the sink. He got out a few rags and rinsed off his face before cleaning off the floor while Charlie brushed his teeth. After he was done he dug through his dresser to find a clean tee for pajamas, but alas, their attempts were in vain, for Charlie had not done his laundry in two weeks. Like usual. But Mac had an old tee that was far too large for Charlie but had sleeves on it and hey, the short guy wasn't going to complain. Luckily he had a clean pair of thermal pants.
Mac sat down on the bed and waited for Charlie to finish changing, just not paying attention. It was like 2 in the morning and he had to watch his Charlie barfing all over everywhere. But then Charlie yawned and Mac looked up to see him in his completely oversized shirt and tight long-johns. Way too cute.
"Oh my god."
Charlie looked up.
"What?" he sounded exhausted.
"You're just really-"
"No Mac. Don't even say it."
Charlie climbed under the covers, still dealing with the shakes. He scooted his way over to Mac and wrapped his arms around him. Mac sighed and turned over, nesting his face into Charlie's soft mess of hair. At least he'd gotten the bug out of his system. Now he wouldn't have to hold back from kissing him.