Sick

Jack's idea of Alex sleeping all night and feeling better when he woke up didn't go exactly as planned. Yeah, Alex slept through the night with no problem at all, but he definitely wasn't feeling any better. Jack had to pull over twice on the way to the airport, otherwise Alex would've puked all over the car. They had also barely made through security before Alex was sick in a trashcan.
"Holy fuck, you look like shit Alex!" was the first Rian said to him.
"Hello to you too, you douche twat." he shot back weakly.
"Are you okay, Alex?" Zack asked, genuinely concerned about his friend and band mate.
Alex shrugged. He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweats and checked the time. There was still an hour and a half before the plane even boarded. Fan-fucking-tastic. He was tired, he was cold, and he felt like he was going to be sick again. Damn it. He clutched at his stomach, breathing deeply.
"Babe, you okay?" Jack asked, panicked.
Alex shook his head. Nu- uh man. He was not throwing up again in a airport trash bin. Nope. He gagged, quickly pressing a hand to his mout h. No, oh please no. Why the hell was he still sitting there?
"You okay, man?" Rian questioned.
Alex got up and walked over to the nearest trashcan, spitting into it. He sat on the floor and held onto his abdomen. He felt his stomach begin to settle a bit. Thank fuck. He stood up and walked over to Jack. He sat down, laying his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and closing his eyes. He dozed off as Jack pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and frowned. He just wanted Alex better.