#let's say Spinni did it okay shh

[1heartsickfics]

Drunk boyfriend

So we were hanging out and drinking with a group of friends from work. One of the guys brought his beer bong, so him and Carter both chugged a four locos, which is like actual trash alcohol for those of you who don't know. They're 14% alc and taste like battery acid.

The other guy immediately bent over and puked but Carter held his down. He sat down next to me with a hand on his stomach. "I feel like my insides are on fire," he said.

"I can't imagine why," I joked, nudging him with my shoulder a little. I was worried about him but I knew better than to ask him if he was okay in front of everyone.

"Dude that fucking killed me," the other guy, Devon, said once he finished throwing up.

Carter pressed his fist into his stomach, forcing up a loud burp. "Dude yeah I feel like I have a lead ball in my stomach," he agreed.

They both continued drinking immediately though. Devon started in on one of the beers he bought while Carter opened a twisted tea, which I'd already drank one of.

After a few sips though, he handed it to me. "Want some?" he asked.

I nodded, taking it from him and taking a sip. What he meant was that he needed a break but didn't want to say it out loud. I ended up finishing it for him, although not long after him and Devon bonged a beer each.

Now, Carter's a pretty big guy, although he's thin, so he can hold his alcohol pretty well. He can drink a lot and be okay. But he doesn't usually drink fast, and he doesn't usually drink beer. So that kinda did him in.

After that, he was drunk, I could tell. He's the kind of person who's usually still pretty functional even when he'd drunk. He can usually walk and talk mostly normally. But he was drunk. He was talking silly and stumbling around.

I was somewhere between drunk and tipsy after the next drink I had. I was also a little bit high after taking a few hits from my friend's vape.

That was when everyone decided that we should play kickball in the parking lot even though it was 1 am and raining. So we played kickball for about an hour. Or tried to anyway. When everyone's drunk and/or stoned it's a little difficult lol.

By the time we finished the game, everyone was exhausted and sweating our asses off, so we decided to call it a night and head home. Carter and I both lived close and had walked there, so after saying bye to everyone we started walking.

We didn't make it very far though before Carter grabbed my arm and tugged on it a little. When I turned to look at him he was slightly bent over, looking sweaty and pale in the light from the street lamp.

"Can we sit for a sec?" he asked, sounding out of breath.

"Yeah, of course," I said, leading him over to the grass next to the sidewalk. He immediately laid down, pulling me down with him. So we just laid in the grass for a minute.

"Spinny," he said, "I'm so drunk."

"Yeah I know, do you want to stay at my place tonight?" I asked. He has a habit of getting panicky when he's too drunk.

"Mmmhmm," he agreed, rolling over to press his face into my shoulder.

"Ready to get going?" I asked after a minute.

"Ughhhh yeah," he huffed, sitting up and flopping forward.

"Come on drunky," I said, standing up and holding my hands out to help him up.

We made it about halfway to my apartment that time before he stopped me again. This time when I turned to look at him I could tell he was very not okay. He was looking pretty sickly.

"I need to sit down," he said.

"Okay, come here," I grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a bench that was near the sidewalk.

As soon as we sat down he leaned over, dropping his head into his hands. I put my hand on his back, rubbing up and down.

"I feel sick,"

"Yeah I know, I'm sorry," I said sympathetically. I've definitely been there, a lot more times than he has.

"Oh god," he cut himself off with a gag, "I'm gonna throw up."

"Hey, you're okay, I'm right here," I said softly, scooting a little closer and wrapping my arm around him.

He dry heaved over the ground for a few minutes but didn't actually bring anything up. Once he was able to breath normally again he slumped against my side, burying his face in my shoulder.

"Alright, let's try walking again okay? We need to get you in bed," I said, trailing my fingers up and down his back and leaning my head against his.

"Hnnggg mmkay," he slurred, sounding more drunk by the minute. I wrapped my arm around his waist and stood up, pulling him with me. I picked up his phone and his keys from where he'd left them on the bench, stuffing them into my purse with my own stuff.

"Come on, I've got you," I said, keeping my arm around him, my hand resting on his hip.

"I dn't feel s'good Summer" he groaned, leaning against my side.

"I know, we'll take it slow I promise," I said, doing my best to support his weight as he leaned more and more of it against me.

"I can't dothis," he slurred, feet dragging on the concrete as he slowed.

"We're almost there Carter. You'll feel much better once you're laying down in bed," I pressed my hand against his back, urging him forward.

By the time we made it to my apartment he was practically in tears and had most of his body weight leaning on me. I unlocked my door and dragged him inside and onto my bed.

“Just relax okay? I’ll be right back,” I said, squeezing his hip before heading into the kitchen. I got us some water and grabbed a trash can then walked back to my room.

“Summer I feel sick,” he said as soon as I sat down on the bed.

“Sit up and take a drink for me, it might help,” I said.

He whined and thrashed around a bit but slowly maneuvered himself up into a sitting position. He took the glass from me, spilling some of it on both of us in the process, but he managed to take a few sips. I drank a bit myself, then took both cups and set them on my nightstand.

“Alright, now lay down with me,” I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and pulling him down with me. He curled up to my side, laying his head on my chest and draping an arm over me. After a moment he pressed himself even closer, tightening his arm around me and tucking his hand under my shoulder. I brought my hand up to rest on the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair.

"Shh, you're okay, this feeling will pass," I said quietly, leaning my head against his.

"M'nauseous," he moaned, squirming in discomfort.

"Just try to breathe through it," I said, "but there's a trash can on the floor beside the bed if you need to be sick," I added.

"Don't wanna-" he cut himself off with a burp, which he muffled into my shirt.

"I know, hopefully you won't have to," I said.

He almost never gets sick from drinking. Even when he drinks way too much he's usually able to hold it down. In fact I think the only time i've ever seen him throw up from drinking he ended up actually being sick.

Unfortunately however, that was not the case. A couple of minutes later he burped again, long and low, then groaned under his breath. He rolled off of me and pushed himself up, swaying as he tried to sit.

"Hey.." I sat up too, moving to sit slightly behind him, one hand resting on his back, waiting for what we both knew was going to happen.

He took a slow, forced breath, sounding shaky. I scooted closer, looping an arm around his chest to help steady him as he leaned over the side of the bed.

"You're okay, just keep breathing. I've got you," I said softly.

He pitched forward and coughed, which morphed into a dry heave. After a gasping breath in his body convulsed again, this time bringing up a wave of alcohol into the trash can on my floor. He moaned, slumping forward with another wave.

I moved to sit behind him, with one leg on either side, so I could wrap both of my arms around him and make sure he didn't fall off the bed. I could feel him shaking as I pressed myself up against his back.

"Easy, Carter, you're doing great, it'll be over soon," I told him.

After coughing up one more mouthful of puke and belching queasily he seemed to be done. I pulled him back away from the edge of the bed to rest against my chest. He leaned against me limply, head lolling to lay back on my shoulder. I turned and pressed a kiss to his forehead, wrapping him up in my arms and rocking him a little bit.

"Think you're done?" I asked after a minute.

"Hmm," he answered noncommittally.

"You want to try another sip of water? Get the taste out of your mouth?" I asked.

He groaned out an answer that I'm pretty sure meant no, but I reached to grab the glass anyway, pressing it into his hand.

"Just a little sip, please," I urged him.

He accepted the glass with shaky hands, bringing it hesitantly up to his lips to take a small drink. I took it back from him and set it down, wrapping my arms around him again.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked.

"Drunk."

"Spinning still?"

"Yeah kind of," he sighed. He wasn't slurring his words anymore at least so he was probably coming down now that he got some of it out of his system.

"How's your stomach?" I asked.

"Still sick," he shrugged, "Less nauseous though I think."

"Okay, well that's good at least. Do you think you could try to fall asleep? I'll put something on TV and we can stay up as long as you need to but it would be good to try and sleep this off," I suggested.

He rolled over onto his side, facing away from me, but scooted back until he was pressed up against my front. I snaked my arm over his waist and he grabbed my hand, moving it to rest over his stomach.

"Will you stay like this?" he asked sleepily.

"Of course, I've got you," I whispered, leaning over him slightly to kiss his cheek before laying back down.

He squirmed around for a little bit but was able to fall asleep pretty fast. The next morning however he did not feel good either...

#irl story #irl boyfriend story #tw vomit #vomit trigger warning #drunk #drunk vomit #stomach ache #sick stomach #nauseous