5SOS Sickfics

Sea Sick- Michael

Thanks to chantelxclifford for this request! She's awesome, and I absolutely love her fanfic 'Green Tea And Pastries'. It's freaking awesome. It just recently got finished with the main plot and I promise I didn't cry... Maybe... I put Luke's A Drop In The Ocean Cover on here bc it's amazing. Gives me the feels. Thanks again for reading guys.

WARNING: this is Michael's POV, and Michael's Michael. Quite a bit of swearing in this particular piece. More than usual. Sorry. xx

Michael's POV:

Boats. Fucking boats. I hate them. I'll do anything for the fans without a second thought, but this is pushing it. We have to get on a freaking ferry to get from mainland UK to Ireland. Boats make me nauseous, and I absolutely hate ginger ale. I'm fucking screwed.

I sit below decks, in the hope that it'll stop the motion sickness. There's a tiny porthole window, and I can see the sea happening. About 5 minutes in, I feel the contents of my stomach rolling around uncomfortably. Someone brought me a bucket when we first got on, but it's small, and that's a plan for fucking disaster.

"Y'okay Mike?" Cal looks up briefly from his phone to see me loathingly staring at the tiny bucket. I think it's the shape of a castle. It's definitely pink and white, all girly and shit.

My poor stomach twists as the boat rocks. The sludgy liquid inside me sloshes around as I extend my arm at rocket speed to grab the child's toy that our crew thought would be helpful. The ridges dig into my soft flesh; I look up at my band mates and see them all sat, scrolling through various social media apps on their phones. I hug the plastic closer to my gross body, and cough up an abnormally large amount of spit into it.

All three boys look up, turning off their phones and stuffing them in their back pockets in almost complete synchronisation. Calum cocks his head to the side, looking sympathetic, while Ashton shuffles closer to me, wrapping his long, muscular arm around my shoulders. Luke stands and goes to grab a bottle of water from on top of the mini fridge, setting it on the arm of the chair. This happens a lot. Can you tell?

Ash's arm rubs my back in round, flowing movements as Calum pries the bucket from my firm grip and holds it underneath my quivering chin. I groan as my insides partake in a gym class within me, twisting and flipping in rippling cannons and carefully planned sequences. It hurts and I hate it.

I cough and gag a few times, my vision being slowly clouded with misty tears. Then, it all comes up. I throw up everything I have eaten within the last twenty-four hours, the other guys rub my back and pat my leg, whispering encouraging words in my ears. I stop for a second, but then the boat rocks again, like a car going over a speed bump, and the motion sends me heaving into the bucket again. I really fucking hate this. Like, really hate it.

I think I manage to fall asleep for a while, but I could possibly have simply passed out, I'm not sure. Everything is just a whirl of half-consciousness and pain. When I finally come around, the guys are all hugging me, and I can feel Ashton's curls tickling the back of my neck. Luke is holding a glass of what I can only describe as liquid the colour of  bronze mixed with the ashes of a burned out fire, a concoction that should stay buried in the depths of deepest, darkest hell. Ginger ale.

I whimper, and the boys seem to realise that I have woken up, muttering quiet hellos to me, sitting up a little. I think Ash and Cal might have been asleep too.

"Here, Zoe wanted you to drink this," Luke places the glass on the table and pushes it closer to me.

"I'm not drinking it," I huff, pulling my legs to my chest in attempt to protect myself from the ungodly brew and soothe my turning stomach.

"What?" Calum pulls his head back in confusion.

"It's ginger ale, Mike. It's not that bad," Luke tries to reason with me.

"I said, I'm not drinking it!"

"Michael, it'll make you feel a bit better. Try it, just for us," Ashton, who is sandwiched between myself and the sofa, reaches forward and rubs my stomach with his enormous hands. I must admit it feels nice. I moan loudly at the slight relief, throwing my head back in what is pure bliss compared to what I was feeling a few seconds ago.

"Mmmmmmm... Don't stop, doing..." I don't finish my sentence as I wriggle in pleasure, my head ringing with the now strange sensation of feeling a little bit okay. Ashton's hands stop moving, and I cry out in discomfort, unhappy that I now feel like absolute shit once again.

"I'll carry on if you drink it," Ashton is bribing me into drinking a glass full of pee. Well, what I imagine pee would taste like. Luke raises the glass to my lips, so I reluctantly swallow a tiny bit when he tips it. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the flavour, to no avail. I eventually down the whole glass and scrunch my nose up in pure disgust. I feel worse now. My stomach flips and I make a noise that is somewhere between a belch and a gag. It's wet and doesn't sound at all good.

Calum legitimately throws the glass across the room and starts scrambling to find a bucket, knowing what is going to happen soon. The glass hits the mini fridge in the corner and smashes, shards sent flying across the room, working their way devilishly into tiny gaps and under furniture.

"Calum!" Luke shrieks as a particularly thick piece of glass rebounds off the fridge and hits his hand, slicing it open.  He pulls a bucket from beside the shining black object but the sight of the blood, which is dripping disgustingly into the container as he rushes towards me, is too much, and I promptly throw up all over myself and part of the sofa. The vomit is thin and mostly liquidised, a horrible orange-come-brown colour. Just looking at it makes me vomit again, this time into the bucket, which is now being held by Calum as Luke tidies the glass and bandages his hand.

"Oh, Mikey! It's okay, you're gonna feel better soon," Ashton starts rubbing my stomach and Cal puts the bucket down, starting to strip me of my soiled jeans and t-shirt. Once I'm dry, and the sofa is clean, Luke comes back over to us. He collapses into our group hug, snuggling into my chest.

"Get some sleep, you're gonna be okay," Calum whispers in my ear. I fall asleep, hoping that the horrible crossing will end sooner rather than later.