Chapter Text
Ocelot was rather rudely awoken far too early in the morning by a stabbing pain in his guts. His stomach lurched as his guts gurgled threateningly, it was entirely too early for this and now that he was awake he needed to piss as well.
As Ocelot rolled over to get himself out of the bed his stomach cramped painfully again, forcing him to double over as his guts got louder. Acknowledging the threat a little more seriously this time, Ocelot darted for the bathroom. As fast as the pain in his guts would allow him at least.
Safely planted on a toilet, Ocelot allowed himself to relax, prepared for the tantrum his insides were clearly about to throw. A long, low, sputtering rumble of a fart seeped out of him, but nothing else, solid nor liquid, despite the heavy, wet gurgling of his intestines that followed. Ocelot clenched, pushing in hopes of moving things along and getting it over with.
But again nothing, all thunder and no storm. Just another long, very nearly wet sounding, fart burning his arsehole. The smell was positively rancid, a thick greasy rotten egg-ish smell that made him want to vomit onto the tiles in front of him.
He had to have eaten something. Something had disagreed with his guts horribly, short of food poisoning, but still toxic to his insides. Rotting and festering in his bowels, producing more disgusting gas.
A few more rumbling bouts of gas passed through him without a hint of there being any sort of 'main event' in his near future. By now he was desperate for that piss, and unlike noises from his stomach, had some guarantee of relief.
Ocelot stood, with some considerable discomfort, leaving his sleep pants around his thighs on the off chance he had to change positions in a hurry.
At least this bit of discomfort was easy to get rid of.
As Ocelot relieved his bladder, more rotten air oozed its way out of him. Quietly this time, but no less vile as the stench spread through the room.
If his body was going to continue like this, his day was shaping up to be a terrible one and it hadn't even really started yet.
Not nearly ready to actually get up, Ocelot pulled his pants up and returned to his bed. Slumping down on his side. Half curled to ease the stomach pain.
Ocelot kneaded the flesh of his belly, trying to shift some of painful tightness in his bowels, not even feeling slightly relieved from what he'd already expelled. With a gurgle like an emptying drain, another foul gaseous release burst from him. This one held steady for almost a full five seconds with the kind of sound you got from a gas leak, just hissing air... ending in a choking splutter. It relieved a little of the pressure in his guts, but with another wet gurgle he was right back where he started: feeling like he was being stabbed.
Which wasn't a light comparison to make, especially when you'd actually been stabbed before.
Curling tighter as another cramp hit, Ocelot groaned pitifully. Already groggy from not nearly enough sleep and nauseous from the smell, the thought of doing anything at all was not a pleasant one.
Going back to sleep wasn't an option, and food was unappealing, especially considering it had to have been something from the mess hall team that had done this to him in the first place, but he did need to eat.
Eventually, for now he'd just lie here trying to ease the cramping as best he could. Hoping the attack would wear off if given some time.
It was best not to think about what had to happen for something to have this effect on him, considering some things he'd eaten before.
When he finally had to move, well, as best he tried to move carefully, almost every step came with another puff of gas escaping his arse. Not loud enough for anyone else to hear, but it was humiliating enough just knowing it was happening.
With no end in sight, Ocelot tried to make getting his food quick. In and out so he could find some place outside to eat away from other people. Hoping if he got most of it out now he wouldn't have to deal with it while he was working.
It didn't help, and Ocelot found himself incredibly glad these drills he had to run were entirely outdoors. Just a stretch or twisting wrong was enough to set off another bout of the farts. Even though he'd managed to keep quiet, they were no less vile than they'd been that morning.
The cramps had only gotten worse over time, and now he was actively moving around it was harder to bear.
By the end of it he just wanted to go back to bed, if there wasn't more work to do, he almost certainly would have.
DD however, had entirely different plans in regards to what Ocelot had to do.
DD was nowhere near fully grown, but he was more than big enough and heavy enough to knock most men down when he caught them by surprise. Ocelot wasn't most men, but he was very much preoccupied and not at all ready to catch the weight of an excited over-sized puppy. Especially not when said massive puppy planted his gigantic paws square into his ailing stomach.
Being knocked on his arse, and assaulted by puppy kisses was the least of Ocelot's concerns however. When he hit the ground another fart escaped him, but there was something decidedly different about this one by the distinctly wet tone and something hot against the seat of his pants.
Moving as fast as his stomach would allow, Ocelot shoved the overgrown-pup off him. Getting to his feet, cautious of his miserable guts and anything that may have squirted from him due to DD's assault.
DD bowed, clearly hoping to be played with, oblivious to Ocelot's suffering. DD could wait, Ocelot's bowels could not. With DD bounding after him, Ocelot made a beeline for the nearest bathroom.
Apparently it wasn't just him feeling under the weather today, the room smelt worse than the barnyard, with just a hint of vomit under the smell of rotten shit and sweat. Every stall was occupied, and there was a line.
Fortunately though, just as he came through the door, one was vacated.
Making his decision, Ocelot suckerpunched the man moving to take the free stall. Taking advantage of the crumpled form and the commotion it created to claim the stall for himself. Maybe not necessary, maybe he could have pulled rank instead, but he really couldn't wait. He wasn't going to risk shitting himself in public, he wasn't sure he could ever live that down if that happened.
The damp patch inside his underwear as he dropped his trousers attested to just how close that possibility had been though. He'd gotten there not a moment too soon, the second he sat down it was like the bottom of his stomach dropped out, it felt like his internal organs were being yanked out through his arsehole in a torrent of liquid fire.
Though, as disgusting as it was, it actually felt good to get rid of the toxic waste polluting his guts. The bloating that had been causing so much pain through the day actually started to ease as more than a few bubbles of gas worked their way out along with everything else inside him.
It took a few minutes before it was well and truly over. After a couple of fake outs, he wanted to be absolutely certain before even attempting to move.
Despite a whole lot of threatening noises from his guts, it seemed safe enough. Cleaning up and straightening his clothes, even despite the horrific smell, he could honestly say he felt better.
Not great, he was still sore and riddled with cramps, but it was an improvement to how he'd started the day. Ocelot actually felt like he could stretch and move now.
The man he'd suckerpunched before was still on the floor, far worse for wear. A groaning ball of pain in much the same position Ocelot had nearly been, worse even. After being punched he'd ended up vomiting in addition to the dark brown mark spreading on the seat of his pants.
No one else was ready to help the man. Too occupied, clutching their own stomachs, with not being him, as the line had actively started stepping over him to snag the free stalls as they appeared.
Ocelot had barely stepped out of the one he'd just occupied before another man had rushed to take it.
In the end, Ocelot decided he didn't care enough to help, he just wanted to be far, far away from this sewerage pit now that he didn't need it.
DD had waited patiently outside, jumping up with a whine as Ocelot stepped out.
Ocelot gave DD a scratch behind the ears as an apology, it wasn't the pup's fault for jumping on him like that. He was still a baby anyway, big, but still very much a baby. Ocelot didn't feel up to taking him for a run, but he could manage a walk and put him through some commands again to make sure he got some attention.
One of the men would be happy to take him for some of the more vigorous exercise a growing pup needed.
Once he'd been put through his paces, DD was a lot happier and calmer.
Ocelot however needed a break. Especially now his bowels were acting up again. Fortunately all the other work he had to do were all things he could set his own schedule for and he could procrastinate on for at least a bit.
It was a good patch of sun in a quiet spot, with his loss of sleep in mind and being a whole lot more comfortable than what he'd woken up to, a mid-day nap was too tempting to resist.
DD seemed content to just sprawl out near Ocelot, he didn't seem to mind that Ocelot didn't want to do much, especially now that he'd gotten some proper attention from him.
Ocelot eventually woke up in much the same way he had that morning, the stabbing pain in his guts was back with a vengeance. While he was more rested this time, it wasn't any more pleasant.
The second Ocelot moved, DD perked up, though he put his head back down once he realised Ocelot wouldn't be going anywhere soon.
Ocelot looked around to check for witnesses before shifting to expel an absolute blurter of a fart. He was far too sick of this mess to try and keep things silent, with no one in earshot he may as well take the opportunity.
Massaging his stomach to nudge the bubbles of gas festering inside him along and ease the pressure, Ocelot pulled a knee up to his chest for the next one, drawing out a long deep rumble bordering on five seconds without pause. That one helped, his intestines made even more noise in response, but the hard edge on the pain was taken right off.
He wasn't sure how his body was managing to produce so much, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of assuming he was remotely close to the end of it. Keeping his knee up, Ocelot shifted again hoping to get at least one more solid dent in 'the issue' before he had to actually get up and do something.
He didn't get anything quite as satisfying as the previous one, Just a couple of short, loud blasts, more volume in decibels than volume in quantity for all the relief it gave. Though he was still glad to be outside so he didn't have to linger in the acrid aroma of his problem.
Sprawling back out, Ocelot stretched before forcing himself to get up.
DD jumped to his feet readily, full of far more vim and vigour than Ocelot was in any state to deal with. Bounding ahead then running back, wagging his tail madly, hoping he'd be taken for a proper run to stretch his growing legs.
“I'll get someone else to take you for a run later.”
DD's ears pricked at Ocelot talking to him and he barked at the word run.
“Later, DD,” repeating himself didn't make it more understandable to DD, but Ocelot made a point of treating talking to DD like a conversation. Helped DD get his commands down, though mostly it was just because Ocelot enjoyed talking without having to think about every word in overwrought detail. Animals made good conversation partners for that.
Right now Ocelot needed to be somewhere.
Walking was worse than before, while he wasn't dropping bombs with every step, his guts were tying themselves in knots. Growling and groaning loudly with every tiny movement, threatening far worse than the putrid puffs from before.
Just bending over forced another rancid, almost caustic, fart to loudly and rudely rip from him with a sound like a motorcycle failing to start.
Ocelot wasn't sure how long he could go on like this. Especially considering the sort of work he had to do.
Making his way in the direction of the brig slowly, trying not to jar his stomach if it could be helped, Ocelot spotted another detour.
Just outside one of the buildings Miller was chatting to a pair of female recruits, telling a story most likely judging by the way he was leaning on his crutch and gesturing. Probably hoping to get back into the game of getting new notches for his bed post.
Varying degrees of bitter and just plain angry about the whole thing, Ocelot plotted a bit of revenge. Walking a wide circle around the group, Ocelot moved to the railing just upwind of Miller's latest attempt at conquest.
Looking on, Ocelot spread his legs and leant back on the railing, directing his focus on his poor abused sphincter. Easing a steady stream of hot, fetid air from his bowels as silently as he could manage. Gently massaging his belly to encourage the malodorous gas through him.
It took about ten seconds, but even from a distance he could pinpoint the exact moment the stench he'd created had hit the group. The girls fled, abandoning Miller to the repulsive cloud of contamination. Miller on the other hand, spotted Ocelot immediately and started hobbling towards his upwind position.
If he'd wanted, Ocelot could easily have outrun Kaz, even with the cramps crippling his speed, but running would also be admitting what he did was exactly as intentional as it was. By not moving he could play innocent, pretend it was an accident since denial was almost impossible with him being the only one upwind of Miller's attempted pick up.
“What was that?” Miller accused him outright.
“What was what?” Ocelot sorely wanted to grin, but he had a far better poker face than that, instead he focused on keeping a straight face as he continued leaking putrid gas.
“You know damn well,” Miller just couldn't prove it so he had to do his best to get his anger out where he could.
“No, I don't, I'm sick right now, what do you want from me?”
“Is that what you call it?” Miller's expression made it obvious how badly he wished he had a free hand to cover his nose, he was clearly trying not to breathe beyond what he needed to shout at Ocelot and even then he was nearly choking.
“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know I needed your permission to have food poisoning just like half men on base do. Next time I'll make sure to fill out all the forms and get every thing approved before the next time you feed us something that makes everyone shit themselves inside out,” food poisoning, stomach flu, just a really bad recipe, Ocelot couldn't be one-hundred-percent on what went wrong, but he could absolutely blame Miller for it. Ocelot certainly couldn't punch him in the face, but he could still express how pissed he was about the whole thing. Even if it was just by letting off more of the stinking, loathsome gas that had been plaguing him all day while he spoke.
It was absolutely childish, but there was some satisfaction in watching Miller make the decision as to whether he wanted to tell Ocelot off or get the fuck away so he didn't have to breathe any more of the fumes. Ocelot had to be careful with his breathing himself, that last silent-but-deadly was nearly bad enough it could be tasted.
Miller chose the second option, muttering a choked “you reek, get back to work,” before jabbing Ocelot's ailing stomach with the end of his crutch.
Ocelot yelped as he went down, curling in on his guts protectively as Miller made his getaway. Fortunately it wasn't a repeat of when DD had jumped on him, but it was a while before Ocelot felt like moving would be safe enough that he actually could go do the whole work thing.
Getting onto his knees to get up forced a sound not unlike an untied balloon, a sound that drew out to a higher pitch as Ocelot slumped forward again, but after that tapered off, the cramps were gone. Sure, Ocelot was still sore from the jab and having dealt with the cramping throughout the day, but there was no longer any crippling, stabbing pain throughout his intestinal tract.
He'd thank Miller, but honestly, fuck Miller.
In the brig, Ocelot elected to supervise recruits over his usual hands on methods. The boys had to learn about proper interrogation somehow, though really it was out of concern that if he got too active his organs would start betraying him again.
Ocelot wanted to take the chance to enjoy his own current complete lack of pain. He was still a bit gassy, so being in a position to discretely drop his guts when he needed to was a bonus. No one was going to tell it was him, not when the process of torture led to prisoners losing control of all sorts of bodily functions.
It was a good place for him to relax, the stress relief that came with watching a man be broken helped him unwind often enough as it was. Letting go of his concerns about everything from his stomach upset to his loss of sleep to the lack of proper exercise that day.
It was peaceful like that, no matter how loud it got.
Shame there were only so many prisoners.
Though that was why he ran these things in the first place, he (usually) got the job done. The to-do list in the brig still ran out faster than Ocelot would have liked and he had to move on eventually.
Supervising the brig put just enough spring in his step he didn't need to completely force himself to get off his arse and start heading to the next place he 'needed' to be.
Unfortunately Snake caught Ocelot off guard completely, grabbing Ocelot around the middle from behind with no warning at all, squeezing Ocelot in just the wrong way that he emitted a pained squeak... from both ends.
Snake froze for a moment, then lifted Ocelot off his feet, squeezing Ocelot's abused guts again with a laugh.
Ocelot could feel the heat of every millimetre of his skin going bright red as he tried to squirm from Snake's grip. Clenching in an attempt to resist the manhandling long enough to get away, but with one more squeeze another slightly lower pitched toot was forced from him before Snake put him down with an amused slap on the back.
Standing stock still, Ocelot decided he wasn't going back to work that day. Instead he was going to do exactly what he'd been resisting all day. Go back to his room and quietly hope the earth's crust would open up and swallow him whole.
Ideally, very quickly.