One Direction: Sick-Fics

Niall, Food Poisoning; Part 2

"Niall Horan seems to have an insatiable appetite, but it also gets him in trouble sometimes, like when it betrays him and he gets sick"

REQUESTED BY: - ?????, thank you for requesting this. ( Sorry I can't remember who it was that had wanted a part two)

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As Liam continued to lay on the bed with the usually happy and vibrant blond boy, he thought about the times he had been sick over the past three years that they had been together as a band, and found his concern growing when he couldn't recall a time in the past that he had seen Niall this sick.

He pushed Niall's sweaty hair up and off his sweat soaked face, he didn't know if the sweat was because of a fever or just the pain that the boy was in, he silently cursed at their lack of a thermometer. Placing the back of his hand on Niall's forehead he concluded that there were traces of a slight fever. Obviously being disturbed by Liam's movements Niall woke up enough to snuggle closer to him, letting out a heartbreaking moan.

"Hey Niall, can you wake up for me?" Liam asked, still carding his fingers through Niall's hair "You doing alright mate?"

"Stomach hurts!" He whispered softly into his current carers side.

"Yeah. It probably will for a while," Liam sympathised, "do you want me to rub it for you?" Niall nodded, not having enough energy to make conversation, while Liam took the hand that wasn't intertwined in his hair and began to make soothing motions onto his stomach, while he once more fell into a fitful sleep.

Niall didn't know how long he had been sleeping when he woke, encased in somebody who was not Liam's arms. Forcing himself to open his eyes he saw that is was Harry "What are you doing?" He slurred out, voice still thick with sleep.

"Cuddling you," Harry announced as if it should have been obvious to him, "you were shivering in your sleep, and Liam needed a break."

"Oh," Niall rolled over, burying his face into Harry's chest "I don't feel good."

"I know." Harry tried to sooth, laying as still as he could and quietly rubbing the sick boys back. Niall probably would have gone back to sleep then and there if not for the unrelenting cramping in his stomach.

"Harry?" Niall looked at him blushing, realising that he desperately needed to go the bathroom, no way in hell was what was about to happen, going to happen anywhere other than a toilet. "I really, really need to go to the bathroom!"

"Are you going to throw up again?" Harry asked him, "I could go and get you a bucket"

If it was possible Niall would have blushed harder as Harry spoke, not understanding the full extent of what was about to go down. "No Harry, I need to go to the toilet!"

"Oh," Harry said, having finally understood that Niall needed to poop. He got off the bed first helping a weak Niall to his feet, helping him into the bathroom before leaving the room; he would give Niall all the privacy he needed in there.

Niall sat alone in the room, not knowing if he was hot or cold, feeling his stomach squirm and bubble as hot liquid gushed from his arse. Feeling sorry for himself he came to the resolve that he was never again going to eat anything that the other boys considered to be sketchy.

Wiping his bum, and flushing the toilet, he saw that Louis was waiting for him outside the door to help him back into bed.

"How are you doing?" Louis asked him, "Bet you will never eat chicken again, huh?"

"Not now Lou," Niall did not in the slightest feel like talking about food, especially chicken. "I'm tired, and my stomach hurts."

"Okay," Louis grabbed hold of him, "Do you want to go back to bed? Or would you prefer to go and cuddle on the couch for a bit?"

"Couch." He answered, while Louis helped him plopping him down between Harry and himself. Liam seemed to produce a hot water bottle seemingly from nowhere, Niall sat with it placed on his aching insides, feeling lucky that he had such fantastic people to take care of him. He leant his head onto Louis shoulder, with his feet in Harrys lap, and dozed off to sleep while the five of them sat around watching a movie.

For two days the others took care of him, and nursed him back to health, through vomit and diarrhoea, and tears about how bad he felt.

But after he felt better it didn't take him long to start begging the others for real food, not just soup and dry boring crackers.

What he wanted more than anything was Nandos, but all the boys refused to give in to his requests, reminding him of how sick he had just gotten from the last time they had eaten there.

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Again, I don't feel like this was my strongest work. But I just have to keep reminding myself it was written 3 years ago