Shorts (Literally. Maybe Even Coming Off.)

Sam Gillespie + Ben Killinger (6)

Gem went back to the great hall and ben climbed up the stairs to his room. He opened the door to find Sam sprawled across the bed with his nose in a book. Literally, he had fallen asleep. Sam tapped his the dark haired boy on the shoulder. He woke with a startled snort. "Professor Flitwick. Of course I know what happened in the war of 1822."

Ben laughed. "You fell asleep. Here, I brought you your orange."

Sam looked agitated. "How long was I out? How much time did I waste?" He was so jittery, he dropped the orange, which rolled away. "Would you mind peeling that for me? I'd hate to get my books sticky."

Ben quietly obliged as Sam concentrated extremely hard on learning whatever lessons he needed to learn. Ben absentmindedly ate a slice of orange before remembering it wasn't for him. "Here." He poked Sam in the cheek with another piece. Without taking his eyes off the book, Sam opened his mouth. It was small and pink and very cute. Ben almost dropped his slice of orange but managed to maneuver it into Sam's mouth. Sam made a face but chewed and swallowed obediently. Ben ate a few handfuls of his chips, getting his hands thoroughly messy, before feeding Sam another piece of orange. They continued in this way, Sam reluctantly eating his orange and Ben enthusiastically eating his chips and frosting. When the orange was gone, Ben put his finger in Sam's mouth, jokingly.

Sam hadn't tasted sugar in so long it sent a jolt to his brain and before either of them knew it, sam had licked all of Ben's fingers clean. He sucked seductively on Ben's pinky, looking into his eyes for the first time. They stared at each other, unblinking, until an unhappy noise came from Sam's midsection and he curled up in a ball on the bed.

Ben was concerned. This happened to him all the time but it wasn't supposed to happen to other people. Especially not from just eating an orange. Sam moaned, wrapping his arms around himself as tightly as he could.

"Where did you put your stomach soother?" Sam asked, trying to think of something he could do to help.

"Don't remember." Sam's stomach gurgled and he could feel it churning inside him. This was way too much food. How had he eaten that much?

"You can just use mine," Ben said, rummaging through his trunk as fast as he could. "Here. Do you know how much to take?"

Sam grabbed the bottle and chugged nearly half of it. "I'm very sure that was more than the recommended dose," Ben said, as his friend turned a decidedly ill shade of green.

Sam just groaned and tried very, very hard not to throw up. He hadn't done it for a while and the prospect was not an enjoyable one, especially considering the past few days.

Ben knew how to deal with puke, even if he didn't know what to do with anything else. He propped Sam, who was disturbingly light, into a sitting position and conjured a bucket to sit between his knees. All Sam did was moan and clutch at his loudly complaining stomach.

"I didn't expect just an orange to do this to you," Ben said, surprised.

"A whole fucking orange?" Sam let out a sick sounding burp. If he was going to throw up, he would do it soon. "I said bring me half. I only ever eat two or three slices and then only when I have to. And never," there was another, wetter burp here, "ever, sugar." A thin stream of bluish orange vomit came out of Sam's mouth. It landed in the bucket, thankfully. There was a lot of dry heaving but not much actual puke. Ben tried to rub Sam's back, like sam had done for him but sam jerked away every time he came close.

The signal for classes beginning went off and sam pushed the bucket away, still coughing. He got up and gathered his books feverishly, knowing that he'd already be late. Ben tried to get him back to bed but sam said, "I can't afford to miss my classes-ow!" He had tried to straighten up all the way but his stomach was cramping so hard he had to walk slightly hunched over to get anywhere at all.

"You're not healthy in so many ways but right now you are not fit for class." Ben started towards Sam, determining that he really would be miserable if he tried to continue his regular schedule. He would carry Sam back to the bed and tie him down if he had to.

"Don't touch me," Sam shouted, and apparated to his next class. Thankfully Ben had caught hold of Sam's robe by now and was there to catch him when he passed out.

It was really sad how light the boy was. He couldn't have been over ninety pounds but he was probably much less. Ben started to cry a little as he carried sam up to Madam Pomphrey. Why did everyone he was friends with have to do dumb shit that could kill them? He was tired of everyone being dead.

"Oh dear," Madam Pomphrey said, as she looked down at Sam's pale, pinched face. "He doesn't look good. I knew this was going to happen someday. That boy never eats." Ben nodded sadly as he placed the tiny frame on a bed.

He went down to dinner with his friends but he barely ate anything and he wouldn't talk to any of them.