Pretty long chapter, but I liked it :3

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan.

Note: I have this story for like, three years or so and I plan on finishing it even though I've lost views, favorites, follows, etc. I want to know where I failed in this story. I've read it a lot of times, but I just can't see where I went wrong. Since no one leaves constructive reviews and all, I can't fix it, so I'll just go with what I have already planned. Forgive me if you dislike it.

SEVENTY

I heard someone coughing and it was loud, grave, like their throat stung, like their gutter flooded with liquid and they choked on it.

Another weird dream? Fuck, I don't know, but it was getting on my nerves. Several minutes passed and I could still hear it. This was definitely another odd dream, so I waited for it to end.

But it didn't and when I heard disgorging and retch, I knew it wasn't a dream at all.

I lunged up and the moment I did, a soaring headache was threatening to split my skull in half. Goddammit! I rubbed my temples and attempted to soothe my throbbing head. Was is this? A hangover? I didn't drink anything last night...!

Oh.

But come on, it's not like it had alcohol or some shit.

An ebb of memories loomed over me, but before I could mull over them, the increasing sound of spewing reminded me that it was time to wake up and check on Marco. I rummaged my vicinity and felt something mushy and oozy at my fingertips. I looked down and spotted a myriad of cum splattered all around -ah, and my displayed dick, but no Marco. I stood up and retrained it, zipping my pants up with a groan. Fuck, I'm still groggy and my legs wobbled. I stumbled and lent on my bed, -"Marco?"- I called. Nothing. Another belch.

Oh no. It came from the bathroom. I forced my legs, trudged my way towards it and peeked inside.

My heart sank when I saw Marco knelt before the toilet, hands clutching the edges, his head hung and mouth wide open as green, yellowy liquid spew out of it. I rushed to his side and knelt too, rubbing his back up and down, side to side. He puked again, -"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here,"- I spoke lowly, attempting to soothe him. The way his body twitched and contorted whenever he puked told me he dreaded this. Then again, who doesn't? -"You're gonna be fine."

Marco gulped and wailed, coughing and spiting, -"I'm... sorry, Jean..."- He slurred, wanting to look at me, but was afraid he'd throw up again. I then wondered why he was apologizing until I saw a bit of vomit strewn across the toilet's edges, cascading down to the tiles. The nausea and the awful hint that he was going to throw up must've woken him up and considering I had my arms around his leg (I think), he didn't reached the bathroom in time.

So I scurried a bit closer to him and knelt in front of him, -"It's okay, Marco, shit happens. It's normal."

I finally observed his face and shit, I hated to see him like this, all devitalized and feeble, and pale at that, -"I'm so-"- He gagged and retched again.

I placed one hand on his back and began rubbing it again while the other gripped his arm, held him in place. He was shaking, really shaking, like he'd just seen a ghost or something (you know how it goes). It pained me to see him like this and I opted to make him feel better.

After a few minutes, he began to breathe steadily, but he was still shaking and his body got languid. I was still rubbing his back, -"Better?"

He shook his head and flitted his palm on his belly, groaning and contorting forward, his expression twisting into pain.

-"Think you can make it onto bed? I'll carry you and place a bucket if you gonna throw up."- I felt my own body shaking. Shit, it really distressed me seeing Marco like this. I swear I'd do anything to stop his pain, I'd go to Sina and bring him the most miraculous pills they have, I'd-

-"O-okay..."- He said and attempted to get on his feet.

He failed and I quickly aided him, hoisting him up onto my arms, bridal style, and carrying him onto my bed. Quickly, I searched for some kind of bucket and found one of those large ones used in beaches to make sand castles and shit (it was mine, by the way) and I placed just beside Marco's side on the floor.

His mouth was sodden with the stuff, so I took the small towel in the bathroom, damped it with water and cleaned it, stroking his lips and chin with my thumb, -"Jean, I'm so..."

-"Stop apologizing, please,"- I said, all too sudden. The words came from the pits of my soul, -"It's not your fault, okay? I'll just clean it, no biggie."

-"B-but... you'll get sick too."

-"I don't care,"- I spat, rubbing the towel's clean side against his sweating forehead, -"I'll be fine and I'll take care of you, I'll make that nausea go away."

He tried to smile, but apparently the pain was too unbearable. He clutched his torso and coiled, whimpering.

I felt the nerves in my body reel. My whole system was on red alert. Marco's suffering. I have to do something.

With adrenalin on my veins, I dialed Celine's number, -"Hello?"

-"Hey, it's Jean, I, um, got a bit of an emergency."- I spoke, a bit too fast (and exaggerated). I kept looking at Marco. He was still coiled, gripping his shirt tightly while sweat trailed down from his forehead.

-"What is it? Are you boys alright?"

I glanced at the near clock: 9:30. The pharmacies are open, -"Yeah, we're -I mean, I'm fine, but Marco's puking his guts out."- Jean, can you not exaggerate? As if on cue, Marco bent and vomited in the bucket I brought him.

-"What?"- His mother exclaimed, a muffled gasp following after.

-"I-it's not like that! He's vomiting, like a lot, and I need to know what kind of medicines I can give him, something to ease it up for him."- My voice was shaky and I was chewing on my nails. The only remedy I have for stomach ache is that pink liquid kids take; pep-something and I doubt it'll do Marco any good, I mean, he has puked like three times already and that just mean it's worse than a mere tummy ache right? Fuck, I don't know.

-"Did he ate anything past seven yesterday?"- She asked suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts.

-"Uh, yeah -I mean, we ate popcorn but it was around six, so..."

-"Did he ate anything else?"

-"Uh, no...,"- My voice trailed off into thoughts again. Well, actually, he did drink something else, but jizz is insipid -or at least his is (it is kinda tangy, not gonna lie. Then again, I don't take time to savor it fully), I haven't tasted mines, -"Wh-why do you ask?"

-"Jean, I need to know,"- She spoke, her voice deep and serious, -"Marco has a very delicate stomach and immune system. I need to know if it's a virus or food poisoning. If it's a virus, you're at risk and I must act quickly."

Oh. Oh.

My chest began to strain and my throat went dry. So it's... basically my fault. Marco has food poisoning because of my stupid idea to do the sixty-nine crap.

Note to self: don't ever mix cum with popcorn, or anything at all.

But does that mean my spunk has flavor? Shit. I'd have to ask him.

-"Jean?"- Celine called like for the fifth time, waiting for an answer.

-"Uh..., h-he...,"- I stammered, feeling the back of my neck sweaty. Fuck, how do I say this? How do I say that he blew me and slurped my cum yesterday without sounding too mediocre? And not just to anyone, his mom, -"He... may have had something else, um, it's more like a drink..., b-but not beer! It was, erm..."- I swear, my face is about to blow up.

I think she got it. She chuckled after a few seconds of silence, -"Alright, Jean, I understand,"- She paused and sighed, -"I have a very important appointment in a few minutes, but I know I can trust you to take care of him. It's nothing to fret much about. Just let him rest and adjust to the alteration in his stomach. If he continues to vomit, go to the near pharmacy and just say his name or mines. They will give you his last prescription."

-"I-I got it."- I replied, looking at the clock again. Say, aren't I forgetting something important? Like, today's Saturday and I have work?

-"Call me if you need anything else, okay? And if he shows any other symptom, let me know quickly. It's important."- She added.

-"Yeah, of course,"- We hung up and I dialed the gym's number.

-"Good morning! You just called Robinson's Gym, best location for workout in Trost! This is Jeanna speaking, how may I help you?"- Ulysses Robinson was my boss' name (yeah, I found out last weekend) and Jeanna was one of his receptionists. Speaking of which, she was oddly cheerful today, for someone who's always surly and complaining about not having a boyfriend and people being antisocial for not texting her. Was it because the place was full with stoic men doing God-tier workout today?

-"Uh, Jeanna, it's Jean, one of the janitors, the new one."- I said. I sat beside Marco, rubbing his back again. He was lying face first on my bed after recommending him so.

-"Oh, you,"- He muttered under her breath. Her latter cheery, shrilling, annoying voice jaded down. She's been kind of hostile and apathetic with me ever since I drove that jock out (the one who was throwing empty cans of coke to the floor purposely) and apparently for her, he was hot, and I heard her comment about it during lunch break and her vitriol of me. I honestly didn't cared, and I still don't, -"What is it now?"

-"Jesus woman,"- I scoffed, -"Can you even pretend you don't hate me?"

She clicked her tongue, -"What do you want, Jean?"

-"Fine, I was just trying to make some conversation, geez,"- I jibed and got startled when Marco twitched beneath my palms abruptly. He had his arms wrapped around his torso tightly, groaning over my pillow, -"I can't go today, I, uh... have to take care of... someone who's very sick, puking his guts out and shit. You know how it is."

She grumbled something under her breath, -"Whatever."

Before she hung up, I muttered: -"... bitch."- And I had no idea if she heard me. I hope so.

I then turned my full attention on Marco and began to stroke his scalp. He groaned and curled, tightened his arms around himself, -"Jean..."- He wailed and I swear there's nothing more I want than to make that pain go away. He gazed at me, and his sore expression was like a stab in my heart.

-"Marco, I...,"- I pondered on the idea and I didn't liked leaving him alone for even a few minutes, but I had to, -"I have to go out, buy you some medicine, drinks and light food. I'll be back as soon as I can."

I began to stand up until he grabbed my arm and tugged me down, -"N-no, wait!"- He slurred and tried to sit up, -"D-don't leave me..."- His face was plastered with dread. I never though he'd be all babyish when sick. He looks so goddamned cute...!

-"But I have to. It's just for a few minutes, I promise."- I insisted.

He shook his head, lips pursed and all, -"No, you don't. It... it'll go away soon. Just... gimme some time."

I sighed and sat beside him again. He rolled over his back, his face now up, looking at me pleadingly, -"Marco, please... the medicines will make you feel better. I hate to see you like this..."

Again, he shook his head, more briskly, -"Don't go... please..."- He whined and there he goes again with the puppy eyes, manipulating me easily.

If he's this set on me staying, then he must really feel ill. I've never seen Marco this flimsy, -"Okay, okay, I'll stay,"- I finally replied, chuckling, -"Want me to rub your tummy?"

He nodded, his cheeks lighting up despite his condition, -"Mjum."

I placed my hand on his abdomen and began to stroke my hand in a circular motion, like Mom used to whenever I got stomach aches. I smiled at the memory and it grew when I saw Marco breathe steadily. He slumped his head back onto my pillow and groaned, still tensing. After a few minutes, I managed to ease him up and he relaxed, his eyelids dropping. I couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. I was practically babysitting him.

When he finally fell asleep, I decided to profit from the opportunity and rode off to the near pharmacy, rushing to the front door and almost dropping my car's keys. I knew I'd regret it soon, but if I can get him some medicine, then it's for the better.

At my local pharmacy, I did what Celene told me to do and Marco's name appeared on the list. The woman on the long med gown suggested me some of his prescribed medicines for stomach ache he ingested before. Most were pills and drinks, but I think one is enough. Marco doesn't have anything serious, just food poisoning, -"Does he has constipation or diarrhea?"- She asked me all of a sudden.

-"Huh?"- I whipped around, facing the woman, -"Uh, no, not at the moment."

-"Here, take this just in case."- She handed me an odd, silver parcel with two large... 'pills' bulging out.

-"Um,"- I twisted it in my palm, observing it, thinking the size of it can't be swallowed, I mean... shit, it's impossible, -"Is this supposed to be swallowed or what? Am I supposed to chop it?"

She laughed, finding my obliviousness amusing, -"No, dear, it goes in the rectum."

What?

-"Are you serious?"- I was completely flabbergasted and then, with my fucked up mind, I marshaled several pictures of me thrusting this... fucked pill, what-ever-it-is into Marco's anus, because really, it's me, -"How is this supposed to help him? I mean..., what?"- This is ridiculous. Does this even fit in...? Oh bother.

Now, the woman face-palmed herself, probably annoyed at me, at my apparent stupidity, because hey, pills (is it even a pill?) that goes into assholes are a real thing, seemingly. She reminded me of Mom's doctor, -"Like I said, you can use it for emergencies, in case the boy can't swallow properly."- This makes me wonder what kind of society I live in.

-"For diarrheas, you mean?"

Another stupid question. She sighed and rolled her eyes, -"Yes, dear, for diarrheas."

I pondered on whether or not take it with me. To take it or not to take it, that is the question (yeah, Hamlet speech, had to read it in English class). I sighed and switched the... thing between my fingers. Well, why not? Emergencies, right? I mean, what if I get home and Marco starts shitting himself? Stuff happen and hey, if I get to see his asshole then I gotta knock myself out. Like some people say: "there's always a first time". Besides, I don't have to pay for any of these medicines. Marco's medical plan covers it, -"Fine, I'll take it."- The more the merrier.

-"Good -oh, I think it's needless to say that it shouldn't be ingested."- She smiled, very smugly.

I just rolled my eyes, -"Thanks for the tip."

I bought several other things, like Sprite, diet coke, crackers and light bread, stuff that won't make his stomach go haywire again. After paying, I rode off as quick as I could, skipping some red lights along the way and naturally, making some enmities. Oh well. At home, I unpacked everything and rushed upstairs, Sprite and crackers on hand, considering he hasn't eaten anything, -"Marco? Are you alright?"- When I didn't see in on my bed, I gasped, placed the stuff I brought on the table and knocked on the bathroom's door, -"Hey, you okay in there?"

I heard a whimper as an answer.

Oh no.

-"Marco?"- I called again, leaning my ear on the door, trying to hear more. Yeah, he was crying, and I heard the toilet's lid thud.

-"Y-you... said you'd stay with me."- He whined and oh my God, it made my heart sink in guilt. Damn, Marco seems like a totally different person.

-"Open up, please."- I begged, knocking again.

Another wail.

-"Please,"- After a few seconds, Marco opened up and again, I saw him knelt before the toilet. Shit, this place reeks, -"Again?"- I asked, rubbing his back up and down in a similar fashion as this morning and like said time, he was shaking.

He nodded, his lips pursed. Oh, but as sick as he was, he was pissed at me, and sad, -"I'm sorry, Marco, it wasn't my intention. I was just buying some stuff for you."- He was acting like a woman on her period. No offense.

He sniffed and with a clean, damped towel, I cleaned his mouth again, -"I though I said..."

-"I know what you said, but I had to buy these stuff. It'll make you feel better,"- I stroked his hair gently, -"I won't leave your side this time, I promise."

He sniffed again and chafed his eyes with his arm, mopping away a few tears. He lifted his pinkie and stared at me expectantly.

I peered at him and his finger, -"Are you serious?"- I then burst in laughter, receiving a pout from his overly adorable expression, -"Alright, crybaby."- I twirled my pinkie around his and pulled him into a hug.

After that, Marco had stabilized for a few hours, but the pain was still there, making him whine and burrow in my sheets. Again, I was astonished at how flimsy and querulous he got, like an ill kid crying every time his stomach churned. It was odd to see him like this, I admit. I'm accustomed to see Marco smiling broadly and laughing joyfully, but I guess I haven't seen every side of him and I certainly haven't seen his 'ill' side. People do get moody when sick, but this... from Marco... damn.

Then I remembered what his mom told me, that he had a weak immune system and delicate stomach. Poor thing, I though as I watched him writhe and blubber underneath my sheets, clutching them hermetically in pain, -"J-Jean...,"- He called for the hundredth time. Really, he reminded me a lot of Mom on her last days when I took care of her. Just like her, Marco has called me for every trifle need: for shuffling the disheveled sheets, stroking his hair, rubbing his belly, all that, and I didn't complained once. I consented and pampered him. Weak of me, I suppose, but for him, I'd be biggest loser and dork on Earth, -"I think I'm gonna..."

-"Hold on, hold on,"- I was, miraculously, studying for a Science exam due this week when I sprung up from my seat and rushed to Marco. Just when I leveled the bucket (which I vacated like ten times already) to his position, Marco retched, hunching his back and gagging practically nothing. Marco had nothing in his stomach, so why is he...? The last thing I gave him was a glass of water and one of the stomach ache pills I brought and it did nothing, he just barfed it.

I was holding the bucket firmly when I felt droplets of spue sloshed onto my arms and down to the tiles.

Marco quickly raised his head, his expression contorting into distress, -"Oh no, I-I-I'm sorry, that's so disgusting, I'm such a-"

-"Marco, hey,"- I placed the bucket on the floor and sat beside him, cleaning his mouth again with the towel I've clean over and over, -"It's okay, relax. I'm not repulsed or anything, so calm down. This is normal, shit happens."- I don't know how many times I told him that last part. This wasn't the first time he soiled my clothes with his spue, or the floor, or my sheets. I really needed to do some cleaning when he recovers.

He snuffled and tumbled his head onto my pillows again, covering his face with his hands.

-"I'm here for you, okay? And I'll bathe in your puke if I have to, I don't mind,"- I pulled one of his hands from his face and smiled, -"I love you and you know I'll do anything for you."

For the first time during this ricochet, he smiled. It was small and feeble, but it was there and it was enough to appease my anxious heart, -"Stroke my hair, please."- He requested.

I nodded, -"Let me clean this up first."- I stood up and mopped the floor. With a third pair of new clothes, I headed into the bathroom and after spraying deodorant around, I took a quick-bath, changed and strode out, dumping the soil clothes into the already full hamper.

While stroking Marco's hair, I kept thinking about his condition. He kept groaning in pain, as if his stomach was being heaved out of him. I scratched the pills from my head as I though about the medicines I brought -I couldn't give him anything to drink anyways, he'll just spew it again.

Then it popped in my head. That odd what-ever-it-is that goes in buttholes.

My face lit up at the idea and my body heated at the images I was thoughtlessly shaping in my head. Come on, Jean, stop these images! But dammit, I couldn't! I couldn't stop thinking about thrusting this thing in his ass and then shoving my dick in and-

Is it getting hot in here or what?

Holy shit, Jean.

I literally had to smack myself in order to stop my mind from mulling over those images. God. I flapped the collar of my shirt back and forth, generating a bit of air.

There's really no other alternative, right? I had to shove this thing in his ass, don't I? If I can't give him anything to swallow, then this is the only remedy.

I gaped my mouth, but before I told Marco anything, I did a little research on this thing, tipping 'rectal medicines' in Google and voilà! A ton of links appeared with info on these rectum violators. Well, fuck my stupid brain, it's a suppository! Of course it goes in the anus! Why didn't that bitch said so? I've heard of these, but I've never actually seen one! I'm such an idiot!

I read about it's uses and I when I spotted 'a remedy for nausea', my heart's beats increased. I then read it can cause diarrhea, because it's also a remedy for constipation. That bitch.

I had the suppository in my shaking hands, staring at it like an idiot, pondering if whether or not rape Marco with it. Why are you so nervous, Jean? You already saw his dick, twice, so seeing his asshole shouldn't be much of an issue, right? Right?

Sure.

I paced around my room; every nerve in my body was having a party, tussling around and getting drunk, and thus, not working how they are supposed to. I may have farted a few times already. Do it, Jean. It's for his own good.

Is that my rational voice speaking?

You want him to get better, no? This is the only remedy. You have to do it.

I'm actually nervous. I can't believe it. It's not like he just asked me for sex, come on!

-"H-hey, Marco...,"- I mumbled. He muttered something unintelligible as a response. I stepped closer to him, suppository in my quavering hands, -"I, um, h-have something that'll m-make you feel better."- Or worse.

He peeked his head up a bit, curious about it, and I quickly shoved the thing in my pocket, -"Wh-what is it?"

-"U-um..., it's an...,"- I meandered around, feeling my own stomach twisting. Sighing and swallowing my nerves, I halted in front of my bed, a hand on the back of my sweaty neck, -"It's... a suppository."

Marco quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head. I don't know if he was stunned that I had this or that he didn't understood me.

-"Um...,"- Fuck, this got really awkward, -"Suppository, as in... like, medicines that goes in..."

Marco nodded, taking me by surprise. Of course he knows what it is, dumbass. He's smart, he knows things, unlike a certain someone, -"P-please..."- He begged, his cheeks lighting up like a Christmas three with only red lights. He bit his lower lip, probably having the same images I had a few minutes ago...

-"A-are y-you...,"- I stammered. Fuck, I can't even speak! The images and my heated body were fucking my tongue, -"... s-sure?"

Marco nodded briskly, desperate for a remedy, trying to ignore that I'd be one to open his ass and insert the thing there.

I can feel my heart throbbing right beside my ear, -"O-okay, just..., um, yell at me if it, you know, hurts."

Marco rolled over his belly as I made my way towards the end of my bed, where his feet laid. I took a deep breath as I clambered my way onto bed and perched my tights on my calves. I groveled forward until I hovered just above his butt. My breathing notched as I ripped the parcel's sides, struggling a bit. I was shuddering.You can do it, Jean. Remember, he wants it because he's suffering. He needs it.

I hitched the suppository out and rolled it on my palm. It has the shape of a bullet, like really, and it was spongy and white. Like an idiot, I hoisted my palm and neared it to my nose. It really had no smell, so I just shrugged and began to pull Marco's pajama slacks down. The moment my fingertips grazed his skin, Marco shivered and buried his head in my pillow, mumbling something I barely understood. I then realized he was quavering too.

When his ass was exposed, my throat shriveled and I gulped, licking my lips lecherously as my eyes sweep through his round, plushy butt. I had the urge to just bite one of them... arhg, fuck!

I swallowed again and again, trying to damp my dried throat. I remember one time I managed to steal a look at his butt through a gap on the door when he finished bathing. Now, I had his bare butt right before me and I couldn't avert my eyes from it, specially from a captivating and cute mess of freckles on his right bun.

I was slobbering over his butt when I felt a thick mess in my groin. Well, whaddaya know, I splooched myself. Shit, fuck... shit, my crotch was hot all over and I had this lingering impulsion to unzip my pants and... and...

Jean, focus!

I shook my head, ignored my growing hard-on and hovered the suppository near his anus. Oh my God, I gulped again, here goes nothing, -"I'm g-gonna do it, Marco. Just... breathe."- Marco inhaled. With one hand, I clutched one of his buns and hived it off from the other one, his anus now clearly visible. Immediately, a current of electricity threatened to posses and control my actions, filling me with longing to feel him in... no, no, no, just focus! I swallowed harshly and began to introduce the suppository in his rectum, clutching his bun tightly while ignoring the electricity it ebbed.

Marco exhaled, his body deflating in my bed. I looked at the suppository. It wasn't in yet. With a gruff gulp, I spoke, my voice hoarse, -"M-Marco... I-I have to push it."- God, this felt like we were having sex.

Marco nodded vigorously and tightened his grip on my pillow.

With a deep breath, I trusted my finger in and shoved the suppository deeper in his rectum, making a slush sound that somehow echoed in my ears and sent gleeful thrills through my spine. I shivered and breathed out, but instead, a moan escaped my lips unexpectedly. Marco moaned at the same time. He kept groaning afterwards, trying to muffle them, and I knew why: I still had my finger in his anus and I just... can't pull it off. The viscid stir my finger transmitted to me in there adhered and I wanted to keep feeling it, I wanted to push deeper, feel more, explore and...

Come on, come on! I rushed myself, pull it off! That's not why you're doing this!

Marco stirred his body and moaned louder. Did he... did he do it on purpose? -"J... Jean..."- He puffed and when I looked at his face, my heart skipped a beat. He was biting and squeezing my damped pillow, his brows knitted as if he were in pain, as if my finger was hurting him.

I quickly pulled it out in one motion, without hesitation, and Marco exhaled, his reddened face returning to normal. He panted and I quickly tucked his pants back up.

I stood pale on my bed, unsure of what just happened -stop bullshitting yourself! I spat mentally, you know exactly what happened.

I pushed all those thoughts aside for a moment and dismounted my bed, trotting to Marco's side and checking on him. I ignored the massive mess in my groin as I caressed his cheek; he was breathing steadily, his eyes closed and brows were normal. I sighed in relief until I felt him stir again, -"Just... rest, alright? You'll feel better."- I looked away and spoke, not set on meeting his eyes.

-"Jean,"- He called and I bit my lip, -"Look at me."- And somehow, he was speaking normally.

I sighed in defeated and swept my head to face him, slowly, like a crane, and cringed when our eyes met, -"Wh-what is it?"

I though he'd yell at me for hurting him, but he just smiled, tenderly like he always does, -"Thank you..."- He blushed.

-"Y-yeah...,"- I replied, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly, feeling my cheeks blushed, -"No prob."

He smiled again before closing his eyes into slumber.

And I was left alone with my sick thoughts.

Oh boy.