This sickfic contains two of my OCs, Romain and Ángel. Their stories have not been written yet, but this was an idea I had bouncing around in my head that I don't know will make it to the final cut of their stories. They are both foreign exchange students who are going to the same school in the United States. Romain is from France, and Ángel is from Spain. They both speak Spanish, French, and English, though Ángel's French is worse than his English. In this fic, Ángel is spending the night with Romaine during their time in America.

"Romaine?"

Romaine groaned softly, rubbing his eyes with his fist. He wasn't sure who had woken him up, or why for that matter, but given how tired he felt, he knew it was definitely before he had to get up. It took him a couple seconds to open his eyes and adjust to the darkness. For some reason all the lights were out. Huh...he remembered leaving a lamp on before they both had passed out on the bed. Why was it so dark? Someone must have turned it off when they checked on them…

He didn't have much time to focus on the light, however, because the moment he laid eyes on Ángel, he was wide awake and focused on him. Romaine sat up quickly and put his hand on Ángel's back.

"What's the matter?" Romaine asked. Ángel looked horrible. Even in the dark, Romaine could tell he was super pale. He was puffing out his bottom lip, like he did when he was sad or upset and trying not to cry, and his eyes, which were normally bright and colorful, looked devoid of life. Romaine was wracked with worry for his significant other. Everything was fine when they went to bed earlier. Sure, they were both exhausted from the long day, and Romaine had gotten upset a couple times from his language barrier, but generally speaking, the day went well. They both had a great time out together. They even went to bed cuddling together, which was something new to both boys, and their hearts were fluttering the whole time in excitement. What happened after they fell asleep that could have left his boyfriend in such a shaken up state?

Ángel looked at Romaine with disheartened eyes, saying "My stomach is upset…" he said in French. It was only then that Romaine noticed the hand hovering lightly over his belly.

Romaine frowned and started rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort the pained boy. "Do you feel sick?" he asked. He was even more worried when Ángel nodded. The moment he did, Romaine put the back of his hand up to his forehead to feel for a fever. He was surprised to find that he didn't feel warm in the slightest. He was going to ask more questions when Ángel spoke up again.

"I woke up about an hour ago from a nightmare, and all the lights were off. I couldn't see you. I couldn't feel you beside me. I thought you left me…" he trailed off slightly. His voice was wavering and he sounded tired, but it was the hint of tears in his voice that worried Romaine the most. "...I started feeling really anxious, and got scared, and then my stomach started hurting…I felt like I was gonna throw up. I knew you were still here, but I didn't wanna wake you up, because I knew you were tired...I've been running to the bathroom ever since, feeling really nauseous and sick, and I need to throw up, but I'm scared to…" He looked up at Romaine, his eyes glossy with tears. "I had to wake you up because I couldn't get through it by myself. I'm sorry…" Romaine's heart hurt for his poor, upset baby. He was feeling so awful, and on top of that he felt bad for asking for help because he didn't want to wake him up.

"Honey, no," Romaine said, pulling Ángel into a tight hug. He rubbed his back in large circles. Ángel tucked his head into the crook of his neck, hugging him back just as tightly. It was clear to Romaine that he needed this hug badly. "If you feel sick like this, you need to wake me up. I don't want you to feel like you have to suffer through it alone just because you don't want to wake me up. I want to help you, baby. And I can't do that if I don't know you're hurting." He gave Ángel a big squeeze. "Please wake me up if you ever feel like this again, okay?"

He heard Ángel sniff, clearly holding in tears. Romaine only felt worse thinking about his love crying because he was in so much pain.

"I-I know, but…" he sniffed again. "I just feel bad waking you up when you're tired and you need sleep…"

Romaine gave him another squeeze and patted his back. "Don't feel bad, sweetheart. I love you, and I wanna help make you feel better when you're sick. I don't care what time it is or how tired I am. If you need me, I'll be there for you. Please tell me when you need me, okay?" Ángel sniffed one more time before nodding and breathing out a shaky "Okay…"

Romaine nodded back and rested his head against Ángel's. "Do you still feel nauseous baby?" he asked. His worry deepened when he felt Ángel nod against his neck. "Maybe we should go to the bathroom just in case then, hm?" he suggested sweetly. He didn't wanna sound forceful, but he knew it would be better for him if he was close to a toilet. That way there was no rush if he did need to throw up.

"Yeah, but…" Ángel pulled back from the hug a little so he could look at Romaine. "I just came back from the bathroom. I've been running there and back for the last hour. I'm tired, I wanna lie down…" He pouted at Romaine, not to be cute, but because he truly felt miserable and he wanted Romaine to know it.

Romaine wanted to sigh, but he thought that might make Ángel think he was being a bother, so he refrained, even though that wasn't why he wanted to sigh. He just felt so defeated looking at his pouting face and wanted to let him lay down while cuddling him and rubbing his tummy to make him feel better. But he knew that if he was feeling nauseous, then it would be better for both of them if he was close to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, honey, but if you feel like you're gonna throw up, then you need to be near a toilet," he replied. He heard Ángel's tiny moan of protest, and then found he had tucked his head back into the crook of his neck. Romaine went back to rubbing his back.

"But I'm tired," he whined. Romaine nodded. Both of them had gone to bed really late; They'd only be getting five hours of sleep that night because they had to get up in time for school. But given that the sun wasn't shining through the windows, Romaine had to guess that it was before they needed to wake up. And given that Ángel had said he woke up an hour ago feeling like this, then he got even less sleep than Romaine did.

"I know baby, I know," he said soothingly, switching to rub his arm up and down. "But I don't want you to have to run to the bathroom if you start feeling sick again, okay? It's better if you're right next to it, that way you just have to lean over."

Ángel nodded reluctantly and pulled away. He looked up at Romaine and reached for his hand. Romaine let him intertwine their fingers and grasped his hand back in a loving embrace. Romaine stroked the top of his hand with his thumb a few times before leaning in close to Ángel and placing a short kiss on his forehead. Ángel looked up at him with his pouting face again, but Romaine was going to be strong and not let his desires overtake what he knew the right thing to do was. He stood up and helped Ángel up, then led him to the bathroom across the hall at a slow pace, so he didn't shake up his poor tummy any more than it already was. Once inside, he let Ángel take a seat on the edge of the bathtub closest to the toilet, and then took a seat next to him by the wall. He let go of his hand and opted to rub his back instead. Ángel had hunched over slightly, his arm wrapped around his belly as if he was protecting it. It only took a few minutes of waiting before Romaine saw his bottom lip start to tremble, and then he placed his hand over his lips lightly. Romaine's heart picked up in pace, and he was worried Ángel might actually be sick right there in front of him. His worry only deepened when Ángel leaned forward over the toilet bowl and let out a soft gag. He moved his hand from his mouth immediately and put it on his stomach, his palm resting flat against his belly. His mouth hung open and his breathing was deeper. Ángel spit into the toilet a couple of times before gagging again. Romaine watched with concern, all the while rubbing his back.

"Do you think you might have eaten too much at dinner?" Romaine suggested. He couldn't figure out why he was feeling so bad when he didn't have a fever. It couldn't have been food poisoning, because they both ate the same thing at lunch and dinner. Ángel didn't have breakfast that morning. If anything, Romaine would feel sick too if it was food poisoning. But what confused him was the lack of fever and other symptoms. Perhaps it was just really bad indigestion. Ángel did have three pieces of pizza right before bed, which was a lot of grease (and food) for the small boy. Maybe it upset his stomach?

Ángel shrugged, then spat into the toilet again. "I don't know…" he muttered. His voice was soft and frail. He sounded absolutely miserable. "I just woke up and got really anxious, and then all of the sudden, I felt like I was gonna throw up...My stomach has hurt ever since…" Romaine nodded and started rubbing his back up and down in long, slow strokes.

"Have you thrown up yet?" he asked. Ángel shook his head. Romaine furrowed his brows. He was more and more confused. If it was indigestion, then he probably would have thrown up almost immediately after waking up. Could it be perhaps that his anxiety was the cause of his upset belly? Romaine bit his bottom lip. He didn't know Ángel to be a very anxious person, but he didn't know what else to think.

A sudden gag from Ángel jolted him out of his thoughts, and he was on high alert, rubbing circles into his back again. He leaned forward, touching the side of his head to Ángel's, whispering words of comfort into his ear to calm him down. Ángel spat into the toilet yet again. Thankfully he hadn't vomited just yet, though there was a likely chance that he might soon. Romaine didn't know what to do to make it better though…

As if by divine intervention, a knock was heard at the door. Romaine didn't know, nor care who it was. Help was here.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" a sweet voice called out. Thank fucking God, it was Romaine's host mom. "It sounded like someone was getting sick, so I came to check on it. You doing alright? Can I come in please?" Without hesitation, Romaine opened the door. His host mom surveyed the scene and frowned upon noticing the sick Ángel sitting on the edge of the tub.

His host mom stepped over the toilet and sat on the edge of the tub closest to the other wall, beside Ángel, and started rubbing his back too. "Are you alright, sweetie? What's the matter? You feeling okay?"

Romaine, knowing Ángel was too nauseous to speak, answered for him. "He woke me up a little bit ago saying his stomach was hurting and he felt like he was gonna throw up," he replied in English.

Hearing this, Romaine's host mom pouted and felt Ángel's forehead to check for a fever. "You poor baby, you must be feeling awful…" She pulled her hand away after a few seconds, then put the back of her hand on his cheek, then his arm. Clearly she didn't feel any heat in his forehead, so she was checking the rest of his body to see if it felt about the same temperature.

Without warning, Ángel gagged again, surprising both of them. Still nothing had come up, but it was so forceful that it made him cough afterwards. His host mom pat his back and brushed his bangs out of his face.

"You're alright, honey," she said in a soothing voice. "Just get it up, you'll feel better soon." Ángel gagged softly again, belching afterwards. He spit into the toilet again and wiped his mouth with a shaky hand.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled, his accent thicker than usual. He sniffed again.

Romaine wanted to say something, but his host mom picked up on the subtle hints of tears and spoke up first.

"Why are you apologising, sweetheart?" she asked softly. She rubbed his upper back back and forth while Romaine rubbed his lower back in circles. "You can't help that you feel sick. Don't be sorry."

Ángel sniffed again. "I know, I just..." he bit his lip as it quivered and tried to hold in his tears. "I know we had a good day yesterday, and now I'm ruining it, and we went to bed really late, so he's really tired, but I woke you guys up, and now you have to take care of me, and all you wanna do is go back to sleep, but now you can't, and….and-" he cut himself off with a short, quick intake of air. He was biting his lip hard and holding his breath. He couldn't start crying too. They were already doing so much for him, he couldn't make them console him as well.

"Oh honey…" Romaine's host mom leaned forward to wrap her arms around the sick boy, pulling him up into her to rest his head on her chest. He couldn't hold it in anymore at that point and broke down in tears. He hugged her tightly and sobbed into her chest. She hugged him back and hushed him, combing her fingers through his hair. Romaine felt like he had to help in some way, but didn't know what to do to make his boyfriend feel better, so he rubbed his back again, the only thing that came to mind.

"I'm sorry," Ángel cried out through his tears. "I'm really really sorry...I just feel really bad, and I wanna go home, but I...I can't…so I wanted to be with him because I thought maybe I would feel more calm, but I still felt sick, and now you're here trying to make me feel better, and I just…" He swallowed thickly and shook his head, burying it deeper into her chest. "None of this would be happening if I wasn't such a big baby…" He sobbed loudly against her, all the while she and Romaine did their best to calm him down. But now it made sense at least.

"Are you feeling homesick honey?" Romaine's host mom asked after a minute of listening to his tears. He'd calmed down slightly in that time, but was still crying. Ángel nodded slowly.

"I miss my mom…" he mumbled. "I miss my dad...I wanna sleep in my own bed again. I wanna wake up and see my cat Mateo at the foot of my bed every morning. I just…" He bit his bottom lip again and tried to hold back a sob. "I feel like such a baby for not being able to be away from home for more than three months without breaking down crying when I think about home…I'm sorry…"

Romaine's host mom hushed him and squeezed him tightly. "Hey, there's nothing you need to apologize for here. You can't help that you miss home. It's perfectly normal to feel sad or upset when you think about your family back home and miss them. Don't think you're being a baby for wanting to go back home and see your family again. Romaine has come to me crying and upset because he missed his family too, and you wouldn't call him a baby, would you?" Ángel sniffed and shook his head. Romaine's host mom ran her fingers through his hair again. "You can't help that you miss them, and you can't help that you feel sick. Everyone reacts to homesickness differently. Sometimes people actually do feel sick to their stomach when they've been away from home for a while. You can't help that you feel that way. And it's okay to feel that way. But we want you to feel better though, so we're here to talk to if you need us, okay? It doesn't matter what time it is. If you need to talk about something, or you need someone to hug and just cry on, we'll be here. No one is mad at you or upset with you because you woke them up. We know you need us, so we'll be here for you to make you feel better. Don't apologize, honey."

Ángel nodded and sniffed. He had stopped crying for the most part, other than a few sniffles here and there. He seemed a lot calmer than when Romaine first saw him.

"Do you feel any better, sweetheart?" his host mom asked. Ángel pulled away a bit and nodded, wiping the tears from his cheeks. His host mom wiped a few away with her thumb as well. He put his hand on his belly and looked over at Romaine.

"My belly still hurts though…" he said dejectedly. Romaine knew the eye contact he was making was a signal that he wanted him to do something about it, but what could he do?

"I could give you some pepto, and you can sip a bit of water and eat some crackers. That might help settle your stomach," she suggested. Ángel looked up at her and nodded. She nodded back and stood up to retrieve the bottle of pepto bismol from the medicine cabinet and a spoon. She returned and asked him to stand up over the sink to swallow a spoonful of the medicine. He stood up slowly, his legs shaking slightly. He managed to swallow the medicine, though he looked even more nauseated after doing so. He sat back down on the edge of the tub and leaned against Romaine, resting his head on his shoulder. Romaine put his arm around him and gave him a quick squeeze.

"Are you still feeling nauseous, sweetheart?" his host mom asked. Ángel frowned.

"A little…" he replied. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and reached for Romaine's hand, taking it into his own and giving it a squeeze. It was clear to him at that point that he wanted to go back to bed and cuddle. "I'm really tired though…" he added.

Romaine's host mom eyed him curiously. He was trying to hint at something to her, but she wasn't sure what. Romaine knew what he wanted though, so he spoke up.

"I think he wants to lie down in bed and try to sleep," he said. "When he woke me up earlier, I told him to come to the bathroom so he didn't have to run if he started getting nauseous. But he told me he wanted to lie down because he was really tired." His host mom nodded understandingly. She closed the lid on the toilet seat and took a seat on it, right across from Ángel. She cupped her hands around his cheeks and stroked them with her thumbs a couple times.

"Alright, baby. Go on back to bed, try and sleep this off," she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. "Wake either of us up if you need anything though, okay? I'll give you a bowl to take with you just in case you can't make it to the bathroom in time, but if you need anything else, just let us know." Ángel nodded and pressed his hand against his belly. He thought he might need that bowl.

"I'll call your host mom in the morning and tell her you're not feeling well. We'll see if she wants to let you go to school at all or just take you home," she added. Ángel felt his heart skip a beat.

"C-can I stay here please?" he asked. His grip on Romaine's hand tightened. His host mom looked at Romaine for a moment, then back at Ángel with sad eyes.

"Honey, you know Romaine can't stay home with you, he has to go to school," she told him. Ángel pouted, but persisted nonetheless.

"But if I leave, that means I have to get in a car, and I don't think I can handle the twenty minute ride like this…" he absent mindedly rubbed his belly back and forth.

Romaine's host mom sighed softly. She reached her hand out to touch his shoulder. "I'll tell her you said you'd rather stay here, but she might feel more comfortable taking you back home. I'm not promising anything." Ángel nodded sadly and turned in closer to Romaine, nuzzling his nose in his chest.

"Can I go to bed now?" he asked in a quiet voice. Romaine's host mom nodded and stood up.

"Yeah, lemme just get you a bowl," she said.

•

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•

Ángel tucked his head into the crook of Romaine's neck, nuzzling his nose into the pillow behind him. Romaine pat his back firmly, but gently. He knew he was feeling even more nauseous, so he didn't wanna shake him up. He was at a loss for what to do to make him feel better though. The past hour he'd been rubbing and patting his back and talking to him to try and comfort him, but now he was feeling worse again. He didn't know how to take the pain away from his poor boyfriend.

Ángel couldn't help but let out a muffled belch into Romaine's neck. He swallowed thickly afterwards and let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry…" he muttered.

Romaine gave him a soft squeeze. "It's alright, babe. I know you can't help it." He rubbed slow circles into his back. His boyfriend burping on him was the least of his worries. He was at a loss for what to do. Ángel was sick; really sick, and nothing Romaine was doing was helping. He wished he could lull Ángel to sleep. To take him away from his pain, at least momentarily. But he had been trying with no success for the last hour. He had to get up for school in thirty minutes. He had no clue what he was going to do when that happened...