Absolute Fucking Trash

[i’m about to start writing part 2, which will have more of the orgy part. this is mostly set up and getting to know the characters]

Meliodas smiled. It was that time of the month again. The time when he got to have a little fun and throw one of those parties he was so famous for. Being a rich member of ancient Greek society meant that he could throw lavish get togethers whenever he wanted. However, Meliodas chose to only invite select people at select times and the details of their activities remained secret. All of the upper class Greeks wanted to be the chosen ones to attend. Anyone who was chosen felt extremely honored. Meliodas sent his servants out with an invitation and then got to work preparing for an evening that he greatly looked forward to. 

The invitations were sent to the house of a scribe named Cosmis, a baker named Kleitos, and a soldier named Adonis. All were very pleased and readied themselves in their finest white togas and sandals. 

That evening, Adonis was the first to arrive at the fabled home of Meliodas. It was almost exactly as he had imagined it to be with marble columns, tiles murals, plants and greenery hung about everywhere and peaceful fountains in every courtyard. A servant, wearing very similar garb to himself, showed him into a sitting room. Adonis was a little put off by how fine the servant was dressed. Was Meliodas so rich that he could afford to dress his servants in the finest clothes every day? Adonis reclined himself on a golden lounge seat strewn with richly colored velvet pillows and gazed at his reflection in an ornate mirror that was situated on the wall opposite him.

He admired his finely chiseled muscles, flexing his biceps and winking at himself. He knew his six pack was there even if it wasn’t visible through his toga and he wanted everyone else to know it was there as well. Even his ass was tight and sculpted, a feature that his peers often commented about in ridicule. He knew they were only envious and took it as a complement. His bronzy skin was tanned from working out in the blazing sun for many hours a day and his light blond hair, which was loosely curled, was only long enough to brush his eyebrows. 

Cosmis and Kleitos met each other on the way to Meliodas’ mansion. Because they were both from a slightly lower class district of the area, their paths crossed several minutes before they arrived. At first Cosmis was intimidated by Kleitos’ large frame, as it dwarfed his thin body, but soon was disarmed by the warm friendliness and bubbling charm that exuded from the man. As Kleitos explained his backstory, Cosmis understood the cause of his doughy belly. Working in a bakery would do that to anyone, he supposed. Kleitos also came to the understanding that working on one’s penmanship all day resulted in an unusually light skin tone, very rare for someone native to Greece at the time. 

Cosmis was glad that he had run into Kleitos when he did. If he had had to enter the room where Adonis was lounging alone, he would have trembled from nerves, which was never a good impression. Kleitos’ presence was comforting. He was like a protective teddy bear. The two men each found their seats on a slightly less opulent couch across from Adonis and helpfully under the mirror. He could still admire himself while pretending to pay attention to these plebeians. Between the two couches was a low table with a few silver platters, its four legs resting on a carpet woven from gold and emerald thread. 

“Ooh, grapes. I love those.” Kleitos reached a thick fingered hand out and snagged a few luscious purple grapes. Apparently the platter of grapes had been there the whole time but Adonis was so caught up in his narcissism that he hadn’t even noticed. “Mmmm, these are so delicious. Wet and juicy and a little tart from the skins. Would you like to try some?” Kleitos offered a handful of grapes to the other guests. 

“Why yes, I think I would.” Adonis took several and began to chew absent mindedly adding a thank you as an afterthought. 

Cosmis shyly took a grape from Kleitos and bit it in half, admiring the pulp’s color. “These are quite good,” he said quietly, looking at his friend from behind the hair that hung in front of his eyes. 

The three men made introductions to each other and chatted for several minutes as they waited for their host. It was noted that although they were all quite similar in age Kleitos was the oldest and Cosmis the youngest with Adonis being at the prime age for just about everything, as he was happy to elaborate on.

Eventually, the servant who had welcomed them all into the mansion returned to the table and introduced himself. “I’m Mel and I will be at your service today.” He bowed and his corkscrew curly blond hair nearly brushed the clasp of his toga as he bent his head. Cosmis noticed it because of its striking difference to his own relatively straight black hair. “Unfortunately, my master is otherwise occupied at this present moment. However, he would hate for his guests to wait on him and be hungry so he has suggested that we begin dining without him. He will join us later. If you have want of anything, please ask and it will be brought to you directly.” Mel was quiet as he waited for requests, and then snapped his fingers. A train of servants cleared the grapes from the table and laid out covered dishes. Adonis saw that most of the other servants were much taller or broader in stature than Mel. inwardly he sneered at what must be the runt of the group. 

Mel motioned to the servants to remove the lids from the trays and announced, “The first course of tonight’s meal will be A Leafy Salad with Cucumber and Fennel, Mashed Turnips topped with Garlic and Garon, and Roasted Squash Skewers Drenched in a Locally Grown Herb Rub.” He stepped out of the room and left the men to eat together.

“Locally grown is always good,” Cosmis commented, leaning forward to pick up a skewer. Even though the squash was soft, it wasn’t unpleasantly squishy and the herb rub tantalized his tongue. Kleitos sampled the squash as well and seconded the positive opinion. Adonis, looking for the dish that seemed least like what would be seen on the table of the poor, opted for the turnip mash. It wasn’t the most pleasant texture but the Garon sauce added a gamey flavor. Being the closest thing to meat on the table that there was, he satisfied himself with it. Everyone had a small helping of salad and Mel returned with some glasses of wine to sip with it. 

Though not highly alcoholic the wine helped loosen the guests up and lighten the mood. The room was filled with an air of camaraderie. 

The second, and main course was served, as Mel announced, “Savory Omelette, Pheasant stuffed with Lamb and Venison, Boiled Lamb with Mint, Spicy Sausage, and Several types of Exotic Bread and Cheese combinations will now be served, accompanied by Honied Mead.”

Servants had to bring out a second table to hold all the food. To help the guests get a good idea of what dishes might taste good together, Mel created a few bites to taste for himself as an example and then slipped into the shadows again. 

Cosmis was overwhelmed by the large amount of food. In his own home, they only had access to what the average person did, accompanied by a few vegetables. He wasn’t sure how his stomach would handle all this rich food, but he also didn’t want to be rude or embarrass himself in front of the other guests. In the end he ate a serving of omelette and a few bites of the minty lamb, which he had to admit was amazing, largely supplemented with bread and cheese. He also had nearly four glasses of mead on top of the wine from the first course. 

Kleitos was a food lover of course. He had a large helping of everything and then seconds and thirds. At first Adonis was astonished at this man’s behaviour. It wasn’t polite to eat so much food in the company of others. After watching for a few minutes he decided to interpret this man’s gluttony as a challenge to his own manhood and allowed himself to eat as much if not more than Kleitos. 

Mel re-entered with a fifth glass of mead for Cosmis and surveyed the table. It had been nearly an hour since the guests first arrived. They had done a good job at consuming the delicious meal but even so there still was half of the food left over. It had been a vast quantity. Mel poured the mead and then asked,

“Would anyone be interested in moving on to the third course or are we still working on the food that is laid out?”

Kleitos was feeling deliciously warm and buzzed from the mead and he was thoroughly enjoying himself, though somehow maintaining proper table manners and hygiene even as he demolished bite after bite of food. He was perfectly comfortable with whatever the others chose and voiced his opinion through bites of venison and sausage. Cosmis was slightly regretting that last glass of mead. He was feeling quite tipsy and the food in his stomach wasn’t sitting very well, as he had suspected it might, but the alcohol made him feel ready for anything so he cast his vote for the next course, hoping it would be even more delicious than what they had been served already. Adonis, in combat mode with his only focus being to eat more than Kleitos, took a few seconds to register the question. He had eaten four and a half servings of everything and was panting for breath, both from exertion and fullness. At this point he was glad that a toga covered midriff, as his abs were much less defined and a bulge was beginning to form underneath them. He let out a loud burp, flushed, and then inquired where the host was, to put off having to form an answer while he caught his breath. 

“Unfortunately, Master will not be joining you for the meal. Circumstances have called him away but he gives you his word that he will greet you all in the morning and invites you to spend the night here in the guest suites,” Mel answered. 

Thank goodness, Cosmis thought. I doubt I’d be able to make it home in this state anyway and I’d hate for a rich and famous person to meet me when I’m drunk. 

Adonis eventually voted for course three and large fruit platters were brought out. Due to Kleitos’ request, while course two was cleared away, a small side table was left with remnants of it. He was not done enjoying everything this place had to offer. 

While Adonis continued to battle Kleitos in the nonexistent competition, Cosmis sampled some of the fruits. He already knew that he liked dates and grapes, although dates were quite sweet. The pomegranate was a fruit he had never tried before and while he like the flavor, after eating a quarter of one he decided they were too hard to eat, especially with alcohol induced blurry vision. Then he discovered the plums. They were so delicious that when he had finished the first, he had another. Before he knew it, he had eaten five and another two glasses of mead. He was only alerted to this fact by the loud gurgling of his stomach. It wasn’t enough to distract the other guests but when he started to pay attention to the turbulence in his gut, he realised he had made a mistake. 

Surreptitiously, he called to Mel and requested to be shown to his room. “Are you sure?” Mel asked. “Its rather early to be turning in.” Cosmis’ stomach gurgled again, this time louder, and he grimaced, thinking about the belly ache he was going to have. Mel gave him a knowing look and guided him down a long hallway to a spacious bedroom. Cosmis thanked him and then lay down on the bed, lowering his hands to his midsection to see how much damage he had done. His stomach was swollen, though not horribly, but enough that it would be very noticeable through form fitting clothing. Thank goodness for togas, he thought, and attempted to get some sleep before his stomach’s churning made him too miserable for it. 

Back in the sitting room, Kleitos was enjoying himself to the max. He was gorging himself on every morsel of food that caught his eye and loving every minute of it. Adonis, on the other hand, had slowed down quite a bit. Even a toga couldn’t save him now, as he felt his bulging belly resting on top of his thighs. This was a new feeling for him and as he glanced up at his reflection from the food he had been focused on, he realized just how much he must have eaten. He suddenly lost his appetite and a tinge of nausea tickled at the back of his throat. Kleitos was still eating though, which meant he had to keep eating too. He took a drink break, sipping several glasses of liquid he had stopped tasting and hoping the food would digest enough to make more room in his stomach. His attempts were in vain and he resorted to eating only the fruit, forcing himself to swallow every bite. He thought that the soft textures would make it easier for him to swallow the fruit but unfortunately the slime on his throat just increased the nausea and he could feel the bile rising. He was suddenly feeling intensely sick and he pulled himself to a more upright position, intending to inquire about his room when the contents of his stomach shifted and he couldn’t stop himself. He slapped a hand over his mouth and gagged as quietly as he could, pale slime dripping from between his fingers onto the marble floor. Servants quickly ushered him into his own room, providing him with an urn to dump the handful of barely digested fruit vomit into. 

His body clenched for a second as he forced himself to keep the rest of it down. He wasn’t a pussy. He wasn’t going to let himself be beaten by a commoner, a deeply unattractive one no less. His stomach lurched and he let out a moan, pulling the urn close to his curled up body just in case. 

Kleitos was oblivious to his surroundings, reveling in the pleasure of food until he passed out into  a food coma on the couch. Servants transported him to a room of his own, though it took quite a few of them, and left him to slumber in peace. 

“Oooh!” He moaned. “It hurts, it hurts!”

His bulging belly was red and hot. He didn’t remember exactly why he felt sick, he just knew that it was terrible. He tried curling up in a ball but that just sent spasms of pain through his already aching middle. Then he laid on his back but that just stretched out his stomach even more and made it hurt worse. Eventually, he just scrunched up on the couch with his knees near his chest and his arms cradling his belly protectively. Slowly, he drifted into fitful slumber. 

He was woken by a cool touch on his forehead. He looked up to see the face of another boy in Ravenclaw house, though it wasn’t one he recognized.

  “Ben, you’re burning up. Why are you down in the common room and not in bed?”

Ben was confused. Why was he here? Why hadn’t he gone to bed? “I don’t know.” He shook his head and then wished he hadn’t. A bubble of nausea rose in his stomach. He looked down at himself and realized his shirt had ridden up a little, exposing a sliver of his swollen belly. Guiltily, he pulled it down, glancing up at the other boy to make sure he hadn’t seen. 

He noticed that, although this boy seemed familiar to him, he wasn’t exactly sure of his name. He didn’t think they’d been formerly introduced, although the boy obviously knew him. 

“Um,” he said shyly, “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Sam. Sam Gillespie.” 

“Ben Killinger. But you seem to know that already.”

All of a sudden, Ben felt like he was going to be sick. He must have looked a little green because Sam asked if he was ok. Ben shook his head no, right before throwing up on the carpet in front of him. Which also happened to be where Sam was standing. 

He puked all over Sam’s shoes. Sam would have been mad, but Ben was clutching his middle and he looked really awful. He was sort of hunched over and just… well… y’know. Really pitiful, the poor thing. 

Sam rubbed Ben’s back until he thought the worst of it was over. “Do you think you can stand up?” he asked Ben. 

“I’m not sure,” the sick boy replied, coughing slightly. “I’m sorry. I got sick on your shoes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said gently. “They’re just shoes.” With a wave of his wand he got the sick out of the carpet and the worst of it off his shoes. He would deal with them later. 

“Can you stand up?” he asked again. 

Ben tried to get into a sitting position but even from where Sam was standing he could hear Ben’s stomach fiercely protesting. Ben attempted standing, but he gasped sharply, putting a hand to his middle and then sitting down abruptly again. 

“I guess that’s a no, then,” Sam sighed. Ben nodded miserably, his stomach gurgling angrily at him. 

“Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey? I’m sure she has a potion that could soothe your stomach.” 

Ben shook his head. “I doubt I could keep anything down at the moment. Oww!” He tried to hold back a whimper as another cramp hit. 

“Well, we can’t leave you here. The other students may be unsettled. Do you mind rooming with me for a while?” 

Ben made some sort of consensual noise and then rapidly gestured he was about to be sick again. Sam kindly conjured a bucket. 

About ten minutes later, Ben’s second puking episode was complete. Sam got rid of the bucket. “Since you can’t stand, I’ll have to carry you,” he said, matter of factly. 

Ben looked skeptical. Sam was a skinny boy with a small frame, most well known for studying through meal times. Ben on the other hand was a stocky, tallish boy who happened to have a gut full of who knows what at the moment. 

“Don’t you think I can do it?” Sam’s brown eyes looked down into Ben’s green ones. “Here, put your arm around my neck like this.” He proceeded to pick Ben up bridal style. “Tell me and I’ll put you down whenever you need.” Ben was not light, especially not now. Sam was surprised that he was able to hold this much weight in his arms. 

Carefully, he navigated his way up the stairs and into his room, trying to walk as smoothly as possible, so as not to jostle his unhealthy burden. Gently, he laid Ben on the bed. “Try to get some sleep, if you can. There’s a bucket here for you if you need it.” Sam dimmed the lights and then tried to get comfortable on the floor. 

Ben’s stomach was surprisingly loud but Sam had heard stories about the snoring. There was none of that. He had nearly drifted off to sleep when he heard a quiet noise. Not the unhappy noises of Ben’s stomach, but something more human. He lay quiet until he heard it again. A small whimper. 

He crawled closer to the bed. It was definitely Sam. He stood up, still hiding in the shadow. A little moonlight shone through his closed window onto the bed. Ben was there, his shirt pulled up and boxers down quite a ways. Now Sam could see the uncomfortably large bulge of his friend’s belly. Ben grimaced and twisted his fists in the sheets as another spasm of pain skittered across his middle. Sam could see the sheen of sweat all over him and hear the quiet moans escaping his mouth.

Sam climbed onto the bed and Ben tensed. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” he whispered. 

Sam ignored the question. “How much does it hurt?” 

“I’m ok, really,” the boy answered. 

Sam lightly rested his hand on Ben’s stomach. It was radiating heat and Ben was shaking all over. Sam could feel him pulling away from his touch. 

“How much does it hurt?” he asked again. 

“K-kind of a lot,” Ben stuttered. “Please stop.” Ben clenched his fists in the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut as another shot of pain stabbed through his middle. Sam felt Ben’s stomach become almost rigidly hard as he tensed from the pain. 

“Please… Stop.” The boy whimpered as he slowly relaxed. “Hurts…”

Sam thought he might have seen a tear in the poor boy’s eye.

Gently he ran a finger over the tight, hot skin. Ben shivered and moaned. Sam placed both hands on the round bulge, lightly rubbing circles on it. While Ben was glad of the coolness, he was very hot, the pressure was getting increasingly uncomfortable. 

Quickly he pushed Sam’s hands away and leaned over the bucket, barely making it in time. Sam rubbed his back instead, removing his sweat soaked shirt entirely. Ben found this more comforting. When he had finished, however, Sam wouldn’t move so he could lay down again. 

“If this is the only thing that you can do to relieve the pressure, it would be wise to get it all out at once.” 

Ben moaned but he didn’t really have much choice. Once Sam’s hands started kneading his poor stomach, there was no going back. 

It was nearly three by the time nothing else would come out. Ben’s stomach was very uncomfortable but he felt a little better. Suddenly, he was very dizzy and very tired. He leaned back against Sam. “Thank you,” he whispered, before falling asleep completely. 

“Anytime,” Sam whispered into Ben’s sweat soaked hair. He kissed the sleeping boy, before falling asleep in the bed beside him. 

Two 

Being up so late didn’t seem to affect sam’s schedule. He was up at five, studying for a test in care of magical creatures. After doing his morning calisthenics, he took a shower, then went back to studying until classes began. He came back to the dorm around lunchtime to check on Ben. 

This wasn’t a regular episode, he was sure. That amount of swelling wasn’t typical for food poisoning and the food in the great hall was never bad. though he didn’t have much experience eating it, he knew that much. Maybe Ben had contracted some disease. Sam wasn’t sure, but as Ben was his patient it was his duty to take care of him. 

Ben was still sleeping and Sam hated to wake him but it was necessary. He shook Ben gently.

“Come on, Sleepyhead.”

Ben rolled over and snuffled into the pillows. “Five more minutes. Please?”

“Nope. I need to assess your condition. You don’t even have to get out of bed, just sit up.”

“Fine,” Ben muttered. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing at the movement. His messy brown curls were in disarray, and the creases of the sheets were imprinted on his cheek. 

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked him.

“Sleepy.” Ben yawned grumpily. 

“And your stomach?”

“It still hurts but I’m not feeling nauseous or throwing up anymore so that’s a plus.”

Sam put a glass of pumpkin juice on the bedside table. “Speaking of throwing up…”

Ben groaned. “I can’t drink anything right now. It’ll make me sick again.”

“You need to replenish your fluids. do you have any idea how much you actually threw up?”

“I don’t want to think about it”

Sam ignored him. “A gallon and a half. How did you even fit that much in your stomach to begin with?”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“Wait, we’re you trying to?” 

Ben looked away. “Maybe.”

“Why would you do that?”

Ben looked like he was going to say something but then he just shook his head. “no reason. Probably a dare. There was the trip to hogsmeade yesterday, and a big dinner, and then the elves brought me a snack and… I don’t remember after that.”

“Anything?”

“Just feeling really awful and you bringing me up here and making me puke my guts out. Thank you by the way.”

“You’re welcome. Now drink.”

“Damn. I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“I have an exceedingly good memory.”

Ben downed the drink far faster than Sam had intended him to, then wrapped his arms around his tortured middle, a pained expression on his face. “I told you it would make me sick.” His stomach gurgled unhappily.

“You weren’t supposed to chug it, Ben.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I assumed it was common knowledge. When feeding an upset stomach, do it slowly, with light food and drink, or you may have a relapse of the previous episode.”

“You’re telling me,” Ben replied, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. It was obvious the pain was at least as bad as last time, if not worse. 

Sam climbed onto the bed and reached for ben’s belly but Ben pulled away. “I’m done puking for the day. Don’t do what you did last time.”

“This time it should have a different effect. Hopefully the motion of my hand will soothe your pain.”

Ben sighed and let Sam massage his stomach. At first it hurt more but after a few minutes the pain began to subside and the feeling became more enjoyable. Ben didn’t tell him to stop so Sam didn’t even though he could feel ben’s muscles relaxing as the tension eased. Eventually, the signal came that lunch hour was over and Sam had to go to class. Ben whined as sam removed his hands. “Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

“I have to go to Potions now but I’ll come back around dinner. You should go back to sleep.”

Ben pouted but stayed in the bed, curling up inside the blankets like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Sam blushed at his thoughts. Some part of him wanted to cuddle with the cute, chubby boy. Ben drifted into a fitful slumber. 

Three

¥flashback/dream¥ 

Ben shoved the last chocolate bunny into his mouth chewing furiously. His stomach was so swollen that his shirt wasn’t even trying to cover it and there was chocolate all over his sticky hand and face. “You can do it,” Garrett cheered him on. “You’ve got ten seconds.” 

Ben swallowed the last bit of the bunny and opened his mouth, showing Garrett that there wasn’t anything else. Garrett slammed the button on the stopwatch. “Great job. you've got five seconds to spare.” 

Ben flashed a chocolatey grin and let out a long breath, his huge gut sagging into his lap. “Just under ten minutes. My best time yet.”

Garrett looked appreciatively from Ben’s bulging stomach to the empty Easter basket, previously filled with ten pounds of candy sent by ben's great aunt. “I definitely couldn’t eat that much.” 

Ben was having a little trouble breathing, as his stomach was now crushing his lungs, so he just nodded. 

At that moment, the door swung open and ben’s parents walked in. They were pompous, proud people, the kind you always see walking around with their noses in the air. His mother had long, blonde hair and his father was balding, with strict black glasses perched precariously on his long nose.

“What is the meaning of this?” His father thundered. 

“Aunt Jemima said specifically to share. This does not look like sharing to me,” his mother said disgustedly. 

“I will not have a fat pig for a son,” his father roared jabbing a finger into ben's bloated belly. “Get thin or get out.”

“And this friend of yours, he was encouraging you. I don’t think that’s a very healthy relationship to have. We’ll be escorting him out now and not back ever.” 

Ben sat, stunned for  minute. He knew his parents didn’t approve of him but he had no idea how much they hated him. 

They left the room, dragging Garrett with them. Ben sat on his chair, staring into space, trying to understand what had just happened. He looked down at himself. He was a gross, disgusting mess, with chocolate and spun sugar dripping down off his chin into the folds of his gut. He gripped the rolls of fat all over him and shook them, willing them to go away. He was fat and worthless and he deserved the treatment he was receiving from his parents. Obviously he should be shunned. No one would ever want to be caught dead in the company of a monster like him. His weight suddenly made the chair collapse underneath him. He began to cry, quietly so his parents wouldn’t hear. He was a disgrace to humankind. He should just kill himself and get it over with.

He heard a knocking on his window. He knew it was Garrett. Whenever either of them were grounded from seeing each other, Garrett would always leave politely and then climb up the trellis to ben’s bedroom window, where Ben was usually confined. Ben got up and opened the window, hoping that since Garrett had seen him at his worst, he wouldn’t be too horrified by his current state.

Garrett climbed through the window, then looked him up and down. “You’re a mess, you know that? Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ben was basically helpless, too overcome by tears to do much of anything so Garrett led him into the bathroom and set up a shower for him. He helped Ben take of his clothes and then started talking through the curtain as Ben washed himself.

“Listen, I know you’re parents can be strict and they don’t understand you but I think they see being overweight as a serious health issue.”

“THey just hate me. And I deserve it,” Ben blubbered from behind the curtain.

“Nobody hates you. It’s gonna be alright,” Garrett tried to assure him. 

“No it’s not. I’m fat and ugly and stupid and I should just kill myself.”

“Don’t say that. What would I do without you? Life would be very boring if I didn’t have a friend.” Garrett was getting concerned. He knew Ben sometimes had depressive episodes but he’d never seen anything like this. Were Ben’s parents really that hard on him or was this him being hard on himself?

The shower turned off. “I’m done. Could you go out while I dry off? Just for some privacy?”

“Sure,” Garrett said, as he grabbed all the things that Ben would have been able to harm himself with. “I’m out now.” He closed the door but stood nearby, concerned for anything Ben might try. 

Ben looked at himself in the full length mirror. His curly hair dripped on his chubby cheeks. A thick neck led down to broad shoulders that sagged with the weight of heavy arms. Man boobs hung over several rolls of fat that stuck out over th edge of his boxers. His thighs were so huge he could see the multiple ripples when he tapped them. Pudgy feet looked red and swollen from holding up the weight of his bulbous body. There had to be some way to make himself less hideous. 

Maybe he could get rid of the food inside him. He knelt in front of the toilet and stuck his fingers down his throat. Nothing happened at first so he tried again and nearly choked as a chunk of barely digested chocolate plopped into the toilet bowl. He could still tell what part of the rabbit it had been. It was disgusting, like he had pooped out his mouth and his throat burned with the acid. His stomach convulsed as it brought up more of his meal. The experience was uncomfortable but it got the job done. He didn’t realize quite how much he had eaten. It took a long time to get it all out.

Garrett could hear him puking from outside but he thought that Ben didn’t need to be more embarrassed by his presence. “Are you ok?” He called through the door. 

“Um,” a wave of puke came out of his mouth before he could answer. “The sugar isn’t agreeing with me, I guess.”

Garrett really wasn’t surprised. That experience would have made anyone sick. He was feeling a little queasy himself, thinking about how Ben was getting in trouble for something that had been his idea all along. 

After about a half hour, Ben thought he was done. He flushed and washed his hand, which was dripping with bile and saliva, and then opened the door while   he brushed his teeth. “That was really gross,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,” Ben admitted after rinsing and spitting. “I’ve got a headache and my throat is sore and my stomach hurts.”

“Well, then a nap is just what the doctor ordered.”

Ben just nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. He climbed into bed and Garrett pulled the covers up to his chin. “Sweet dreams.”

But Ben didn’t have sweet dreams. He had nightmares about being chased around his house by all the food in the fridge. Finally he decided to eat it so it would leave him alone but it just kept coming. he ate until he was suffocating from being buried under a pile of his own fat. Then it started to jiggle and he was woken up by Garrett shaking him.

It was the next morning, although it had been barely midday when they’d last seen each other. “You were screaming. Are you ok?”

Ben nodded. “It was just a nightmare.” 

“Are you feeling any better today? I brought you some soup.”

Bens stomach clenched at the thought of eating something. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m feeling up to it right now. My tummy’s still feeling a little tender.” He rubbed his belly, trying to ease the cramp and inadvertently running his hands over his rolls.

Garrett noticed the movement. “It’s been a while since you ate and you really need to get something in your system. If I rub your belly for you, will you eat some of this?”

“I’ll try” he would do anything to make everything stop hurting so terribly. 

GArrett got in the bed and rubbed his stomach until he felt better. “Time to hold up your end of the deal.”

Ben managed to eat a few bites before his stomach loudly protested and he had to run the bathroom, barely making it. Not much came up but he dry heaved for a while until Garrett came in to try and calm him down. “It’s ok. You don’t have to finish it or eat anymore.”

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“Are you sure this is you feeling sick still or do you just not want to eat anything?”

“Why would you think I don’t want to eat anything?”

“Did you make yourself throw up yesterday?”

“How did you know that?”

“A warm shower should have calmed your stomach down, not made it worse, and while excessive crying can induce vomit, you were in the state of mind where it’s would be common for you to do it yourself.”

“Oh.” Ben looked down. “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose this time.”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, probably.”

Ben was getting annoyed with Garrett’s scientific talk. “So what if I don’t wanna eat anything? Being ‘clinically overweight’ is unhealthy. You said so yourself. Maybe I’m just trying to be healthy.”

“Not eating isn’t a good way to lose weight. Eating smaller portions and things like salad and doing lots of exercising is a good way.”

“So I’m not even good enough for you now, huh? Fuck off.” Ben was pissed. He got on his bed and wouldn’t speak to Garrett until he left, even though Garrett assured him that he didn’t hate him and his actions were perfectly understandable under the circumstances. Eventually Garrett climbed out the window and Ben cried himself to sleep. He kept waking up every few hours, shaking from one nightmare or another, though usually it was the original one about food. Garrett came back a couple times everyday with a bowl of soup. He tried to comfort Ben while he was there but Ben still wouldn’t speak to him. He left the bowl of soup there every time. Soon there was a row of bowls of cold soup under the window. Ben’s parents had gone on a business trip so they weren’t home for any of this. 

At the end of the week, Garrett was climbing out the window when he fell. The window was several stories up so Ben knew he was dead. He was devastated. He didn’t eat anything before the funeral and he nearly passed out during it from all the standing up and sitting down. Everyone was mad at him and blaming him for Garrett’s death, as it was obvious how he had died. Ben blamed himself too. 

When they got home, he retreated to his room, which was no surprise to his parents, as they basically ignored him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ben sobbed into his bed. His eye caught the row of soup bowls. “All you ever did was try to help me.” 

He drank the first bowl, and then, not having eaten for a week and a half , he proceeded to eat the rest of them. In this starved, wild state, he didn’t even taste it so it was only on the last bowl, where a skin had covered over the congealed soup, that he realized most of these had gone bad. He finished the last one anyway and then proceeded to the bathroom. He stuck his finger down his throat and puked everything up. Then he sat in the tub and cried, whispering, “I’m so, so sorry” for hours. 

¥end of dream¥

Four

Sam entered his room around dinner time. He needed to do more exercises. He had skipped his lunch time session in favor of taking care of Ben, but he really needed to do it now. Not having it done was making him feel anxious and jumpy.

He glanced fondly at the lump that he knew was Ben. The poor kid was still sleeping. He wondered what had put such a strange notion inside the kid’s head. Eating till he puked didn’t sound like a great form of entertainment to him. Then again, eating at all wasn’t a great form of entertainment.

He heard a whimpering from the bed and frowned, Ben's stomach shouldn’t still be hurting him unless something was very wrong. He walked over the the side of the bed closest to the lump, trying to see his face. Tears flowed down the curly haired boy’s cheeks. He was whispering, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

Sam shook him gently. “Wake up. It's alright. You’re ok.” He tried to sooth the panicked boy, who seemed to think he was someone named Garrett. “It’s Sam. Remember me? You’re in my bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You had a nasty stomach ache last night but you’re feeling better now, I hope.”

Ben calmed down enough to remember where he was but he was still crying and very upset. “You just had a dream. That’s all it was. A dream.”

“It wasn’t just a dream.” Ben kept shaking his head. “It wasn’t.”

Sam realized that this situation had become something too difficult for him to handle so he quickly apparated them to Madam Pomfrey at the hospital wing. She put Ben into a bed to look at later, as she had some more serious cases to attend to first. “Why aren’t you down at dinner, Sam? You need to get some meat on your bones. Go there now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, jogging out the infirmary and back to his dorm. As he began on his many set of crunches, push ups, jumping jacks, candlesticks, and the like he thought about adding a jog to every session. He needed to be stronger if he ever had to carry Ben somewhere again, which he feared would happen soon. 

Since it was already so late, Ben stayed in the infirmary overnight. Sam got up extra early so he could go see him before class. Ben was still sleeping so he asked madam pomfrey how he was doing. “He’ll be fine soon. He’d just had a bad dream about an old friend who died and was nearing hysterics. I gave him a sedative which should keep him out for a while. He was very dehydrated as well, so I’m using an iv to give him more fluids.”

“I’m so sorry. I forgot to mention that yesterday. Wednesday night he overdid it a little in the eating department and had a rough next day, which is why he wasn’t in any of his classes. I’m sure you understand and this should explain the dehydration.”

“That makes a lot of sense, dear. So you were nursing him through that? I hope you didn’t neglect any of your studies.” 

“No ma’am, I’ve been very attentive in all my lessons.”

“You should be more attentive at meal time. I have a mind to make you get on a scale-“

He interrupted her. “Could I have a stomach soother? I’ve been feeling a tad under the weather myself and if I don’t use it, I’m sure Ben will.”

“Oh, are you two rooming together now? I’ll have all of Ben’s things moved to your dorm then.”

Before sam could protest, he had to dash off to class, or he would be late. This would be an interesting experience that he was not looking forward to. 

Five 

At lunch, Sam returned to his room, eager to begin his routine. When he arrived he saw Ben, nearly finished unpacking. They’d even brought him his own bed. This made the room sizably smaller but sam would have to deal with that for now. He began doing jumping jacks with squats, as Ben put his clothes into a dresser. “How are you doing?” Ben asked between breaths.

“Pretty well, actually. Madam Pomfrey gave me a stomach soother as well so you don’t have to share yours. I’m going down to lunch in a minute. Care to join me?”

Sam grimaced at the thought but tried to pass it off as a cough. He had moved on to alternating sit ups and push ups. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. I’ll see you around, though.”

Ben made a skeptical face. “Is that sweat till you drop workout routine all you’re busy with? I wouldn't be able to keep that up for ten minutes.”

“No, it’s not. I have some studying to catch up on as well. You go on down and I’ll see you later.”

“Alright then. Want me to bring you anything from lunch?”

“No thanks. Actually, could you get me half an orange?”

“Just that? Do you ever eat?”

“Food doesn’t really agree with me. When I’m forced to eat, like today, I get some stomach soother off Madam Pomfrey. If I don’t take it when I eat, I’m like you yesterday morning with the juice. It’s not comfortable and it makes learning hard so I skip eating whenever possible.”

“Wow.” Ben shook his head. “I hope you get over that habit before you starve to death. See you ‘round.”

Sam nodded and after finishing his set of candlesticks moved on to burpees. They were harder which meant they would make him stronger. 

Ben headed down to the great hall for lunch. The smell of food hit his nostrils and he took a deep breath. Half of him felt nauseated and half wanted to eat everything in sight, but he knew how to keep himself in check. The days after binges were the hardest, but all he had to do was stay in control and he’d be fine. He got his smile on and went up to his friends table.

“Hey guys. I’m back.”

“Where did you go?” Kinda asked. She was as close to a girlfriend as he was ever going to get and half the time she ignored him. 

“As my new roomie, sam, would say, I was indisposed.”

“Sam? Who is he? Are you leaving me for a complete stranger?” Ben's old roommate, a tubby redhead named Gem, shoveled potatoes into his mouth as he spoke. He didn’t have ben's problem, he just really liked food. On desperate nights, ben would go through his trunk. That was something he wouldn’t be able to count on now.

“Sam Gillespie, the recluse who barely talks to people, never eats, and always gets the highest marks.” This came from violet, the smartest one at their table. Her hair was in strict black pigtails and because of her short stature, she was often mistaken for adorable. 

“Actually, he asked me to get him an orange,” Ben interjected.

“The boy who eats nothing and the boy who eats everything. That will make a cute couple.” Flynn, a dark eyed Slytherin, snickered from his table directly behind them. He started to lead the slytherin table in a chorus of 

‘jack sprat could eat no fat. His wife would eat no lean. And so between them both you see, they licked the platter clean.’

Ben started to feel sick again. He played with the eggs on his plate, which didn’t look so appetizing now. Flynn leaned over and whispered in his ear, “You eat no lean. That means you’re the wife.” Then he burst into laughter shouting, “Ben Killinger is a girl. Ben killinger is a girl.” 

Ben got up and left the lunchroom, grabbing an orange for Sam on the way out. Gem caught up to him on the stairs. “Don’t take it so hard, Ben. You know they’re only teasing. I’m a lot heavier than you are.”

“I know Gem. I’m just… you know how I get when people call me fat. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t let them get to you. I brought you some chips so you can eat in your room.” Gem handed Ben a package of french fries drizzled in cinnamon roll frosting. It was Ben's favorite snack.

“Thanks Gem.” Ben grinned.

“I knew that would get a smile on your face.”

Six 

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?” Ben 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 Pomfrey. 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 Pomfrey 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. 

Seven 

*the next day*

Ben wanted to visit Sam but he was afraid of what he might find. At the same time, Sam didn’t really have any other friends. He’d be alone in there. While fat shaming was more of a thing, thin shaming still existed, especially within the male community. Seeing as the ward was mainly divided by gender, at least for those bedridden, it couldn’t be enjoyable. 

Gem seemed to be able to read his mind. “You care about him and you’re worried. That’s ok. It’s what friends do. Just like I’m your friend and i care about you and i’m worried because you’ve been acting weird for a while.”

Ben didn’t remember telling Gem about his problem but maybe he had found out? Either way, now was not a good time to talk about it. “You’re right. I think i will go see Sam,” he replied, avoiding the questioning look in his friend’s eyes. 

The infirmary was all white and gray. Very monotonous. Ben actually enjoyed being in the infirmary. Even though he didn’t really enjoy being around other people when they were ill, the concept of diseases and medical science fascinated him. Whenever he was ill, and aware enough of his surroundings, he would pester the nurses who attended him with questions, not only about his condition and the tools they used, but other diseases that he read about in books. The workers humored him and his face had become both familiar and welcome there. 

“Ben Killinger, here to see Sam Gillespie,” he told the woman at the door. 

“I’m sorry, but that patient isn’t receiving visitors at this time.” The woman spoke in a slightly haughty tone. 

“Um, is there a time that I could come back when he would be available?” The woman, who was a nurse that he was slightly familiar with, took pity on him and dropped her professional persona.

“To be honest, we have had very few cases like him. His weight is extremely low. Madame pomfrey has confined him to bed rest, but he wouldn’t comply, so they’ve strapped him in, and he’s not allowed any visitors until he eats something.”

“No offense to madame pomfrey’s judgement, but Sam isn’t the kind of person to whom friends are much of an influence. He doesn’t have many.”

“Well, you’re his friend, aren’t you?”

Ben stared at the nurse’s shoes sadly. “I was. We were roommates. But i’m technically the reason he’s trapped in there now. He probably hates me.”

“What do you mean, the reason?”

Sam related the stripped down basics of the previous day’s episode, leaving out any emotional parts that may have been there. 

“An orange made him sick?” the nurse was incredulous.

“I saw it with my own eyes.”

“If that’s true, then you were right to bring him here. If all he eats is one orange every week or so, he’s on an elevator to death and the cables are broken.”

This line of thought did not encourage Ben in the least and he refused the lollipop the nurse offered. 

He didn’t want to talk to Gem but he didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Gem was always there. Ben told Gem what the nurse had said. “Your friend must be really sick then, huh.”

“Yea. i hope they can figure out a way to help him get better.” 

“I think you’re right about their method of getting him to eat. It’s not going to work. They need to try something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What makes you want to eat?” Ben thought about it. Not much. Food was there. He was bored. It was a habit. He was a gross, disgusting pig. He had to remember not to say that last part. Ummmmm…. 

Gem handed him a chocolate frog. “Have some brain food.”

“No thanks.” Ben casually refused it. Gem made a face. 

“Ben, you’ve eaten hardly anything since you moved in with Sam. Is he having some sort of bad influence on you?”

“Well, for the first day, i was sick, and since then i haven’t been hungry.” that wasn’t a lie. Also, he usually fasted a little after binging, whether he purged or not. This time he’d just done it without thinking. 

“You may be telling the truth but this isn’t the only time it’s happened. I was your roommate for the past year and a half. You think i didn’t notice things?”

“Like what?”

“Like when you stole food from my trunk. Like when you didn’t come to bed for hours after lights out. Like when you knew the kitchen elves by name and had long conversations with them during home ec. Like when you always smell like mouthwash except when you forget and then you smell like vomit.”

Sam was frozen. He thought he’d always been so good about hiding it, so sneaky. He never purged directly after a meal with his friends. He tried to make sure everyone was asleep when he came back to the dorms. He must have been getting sloppy to be smelling like vomit though. Those must have been really bad days. 

Well, all the accusations were true. So what did gem want him to do about it? “I’ll pay you back for the stuff in your trunk.”

“I don’t want your money, although donations are appreciated. This isn’t about that.”

“Then what-?”

“You’re sick, Ben. You’re sick too. Maybe not the same kind of sickness as Sam, but definitely not healthy.”

“And?”

“You know and you don’t care? Don’t you want to be better?”

“Honestly, i don’t know.” Ben laid back on the bed, staring up at the red canopy above him. 

“Knowing you, you’ve probably already diagnosed yourself, haven’t you.”

“An eating disorder,” Ben said in a bored tone. He’d gone over it so many times. He wished it was something else. Something easier. “Generally categorized as EDNOS but if you had to pick one of the big three, bulimia, brought on by childhood trauma and emotional abuse.”

“Wow. Sounds super scientific, Mr. Psychiatrist. If you know what it is, why don’t you just take the pill and make it go away.” Ben laughed humorlessly. “You make it sound so simple. Of course i would take a pill, if there was one.”

“Well then a tonic, tincture, salve, spell…” Gem listed things until Ben said quietly, “Gem, there is no cure.”

“What?” “There is no cure!” Sam yelled angrily, sitting up. “Don’t you think if there was a pill i would have popped it as soon as i found out? It’s not like i enjoy dissolving my esophagus and teeth with the acid from my stomach. Or feeling like shit 100% of the time.”

Gem was speechless, staring after Ben as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Normally, when ben was upset, he would binge. But since that’s what he was upset about right now, he didn’t know what to do. Crying, he made his way to a class that he thought he was supposed to be in. on finding out that he was completely wrong and was in one on the other side of the building, ben gave up. He wandered wherever his feet would take him, ending up outside of the infirmary. The nurse at the desk was about to tell him to shoo, like she did with all the other gawkers, but then she saw it was Ben. “Are you ok, honey?” she asked concerned. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I just wanna see Sam. is there any way you could sneak me in, just for a minute?”

“I think the doctors are giving up on their plan. If he doesn’t get something in his system within 96 hours, he has a very high risk of heart failure. I can try to get you in.”

“Thanks.” Ben tried to flash the nurse a weak smile, failing miserably. 

The nurse checked for other doctors, then dragged Ben over to a curtained of area of the infirmary. “In here.” She shoved him inside. 

On a wheeled bed lay Sam, although he hardly looked like himself. In the pastel striped hospital gown he looked unnaturally thin. His black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. When he saw Ben standing there, he turned away from him. Shifting the thin sheet that covered his legs seemed to take an immense amount of effort. He was so pale now that Ben could see the blue veins in his face.

“Sam.”

“I don’t want to see you.” sam’s voice was rough.

“Please. The nurses say that you… you might die.”

“So?”

“Don’t you think people will miss you?”

“It’s not like i have parents. Or friends. Or relatives of any kind.”

“You’re an orphan?”

“That’s why they can’t put a feeding tube in me. They don’t need my consent, but they need the consent of my guardian and i don't have one. So we’re in a stalemate.”

“Until you have a heart attack.”

A look of fear flitted across Sam’s face. “That’s what they said?”

“Along those lines, yea…. Sam, i know you hate me right now, but i’m your friend. I don’t want you to die. I wouldn’t have put you in this situation if i didn’t think it would help you in some way.”

“They can’t make me eat, Ben. the nurse’s can’t. You know that right?”

“They’re just using the wrong incentive. I know that, secretly, you do care about other people way more than you’re willing to let on. I know you care about me. You took care of me when you barely knew me, even if it was in a very professional way. We still don’t know each other very well, but that just means i get to return the favor.”

Sam was touched by the way Ben spoke. Most people didn’t take an interest in him as a person, only in his ‘fantastic brain’ that won him top grades in every class. And also seated him with this lovely little devil.

“What are you going to do?” “I will eat only whatever you eat.” “But you’re fat.”

“To be honest, in the weight department, it will probably help me. But in the organ efficiency, and greater risk of heart failure, not so much.”

At that moment, both boys froze, as the sound of heeled shoes tapped past. Ben got under the bed. “I’ll be safe here as long as they don’t take you anywhere. And i’m not leaving until you eat, so we’ll both be hungry for a few days i guess.”

Every three hours, on the hour, a nurse came in with a glass of water. Sam didn’t get a choice about being hydrated. When he’d finish, she would ask if he wanted something to eat. For the first day, he said no every time. When the nurse left, he could hear Ben’s stomach rumbling. He felt slightly guilty, but since Ben wasn’t drinking any water either, he didn’t pity him. Water could be very filling. 

About midnight, however, he heard quiet moaning beneath him. “Ben, are you ok?”

“Just experiencing a little thing called pain. *pant* Nothing i haven’t handled before. *ah!*”

This made Sam worry a tiny bit more. “Where does it hurt?” he whispered. 

“Oh, just everywhere. The usual.” a few more moans and then silence. Sam knew what this was. The body would give it up after a little while, no longer than five hours. He checked in with ben again, three hours later. “You’ve been pretty quiet.” 

“It hurts to breathe.”

At this point, eating wouldn’t make one feel any better. The pain just had to be endured. But when Sam heard muffled crying, he couldn’t do it anymore. “If i eat something now, you won’t feel any better, but i’ll eat something when everyone wakes up, ok?”

“Ok.” Sam could almost hear Ben smiling. 

The next time the nurse made her rounds, Sam said that he was hungry. He asked for some corn, a low calorie, light food he thought his stomach would be able to handle. Overwhelmed at the amount of kernels, he only ate twenty, then handed the rest below. Keeping his promise, however, ben only at twenty as well. He noticed that Sam’s version of the problem was much easier to maintain than his, at least from underneath a bed. After the first long pain that encompassed his whole abdomen in pain and made him want to rip out his lungs, the regular hunger pangs were easy to ignore. Eating increased them but he wouldn’t have to worry about that much under here. 

Having food in his stomach felt very weird and uncomfortable to Sam. it didn’t hurt, though, and that was his main concern. As long as he stuck to small amounts of low calorie stuff, he should be able to convince them to let him go soon. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Every time the nurse came in, he would have a little more corn. By the end of the day, he’d eaten a whole ear himself. The other one Ben had eaten, but he didn’t tell him that. 

After a steady regimen of green beans, peas, cooked carrots, and more corn for a week, they asked him to eat fruit. Fruit was high in sugar, so before noon he only ate celery and after ate strawberries. They gave him a whole banana one day and he tried to eat it all at once but it made him sick and he was more wary. 

The nurses discovered Ben when he kept sneaking out to use the facilities and was reported not coming to a lot of his classes, although that was a common occurrence anyway. Sam refused to eat if Ben didn’t stay with him, so they got Ben a chair and allowed him to work on schoolwork in the infirmary. Nobody knew about the real deal that was going down. Slowly but surely, Sam was gaining weight. He knew this but he didn’t know how much and it was bothering him immensely. On the other hand, Ben was losing weight fairly rapidly, eating only a sixth of what he had before. When the nurses weren’t looking, he would hop on the scale, proud of his new achievement. 

*OC first person narrative. *

I sat in the dorm, waiting for everything to calm down. The world kept spinning. Maybe I was drunk but I can’t remember the last time I had a drink of alcohol. I didn’t feel well at all and that was before the voices started talking to me. I was used to them now but they still scared me. Not the fact that they were there but that the things they said were true. I always believed them even if everyone else told me that they (or I) was wrong. 

Parker came in then, a tall blond boy with green eyes and a terrible temper. We had become friends since I started going to the academy but I was still skittish around him. 

“Hi” I said, and waved tentatively. Parker came over to the bed I was sitting on and looked down at me. He was much taller than I was. 

“Why haven’t you come down to lunch yet?” he asked, a bit angrily. 

The voices told me why I shouldn’t but I came up with a better excuse. “I just don’t feel well,” I replied, wrapping my arms around my middle. Actually, I did feel kind of sick. Parker narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you avoiding us?” he nearly yelled. 

“W-What?” i stuttered. “W-why would you think that?” Tears were pricking the back of my eyes but only from nervousness. 

“You never come out with us anymore, you won’t eat anything with us, whenever we do go out, you hide behind someone or spend all your time in some store or bathroom. If that doesn’t sound like you avoiding us, then i don’t know what  does.You’re a terrible friend.” 

I felt the tears fall down my cheeks before I even registered that I was crying. Parker had already stormed off but I still whispered, “You’re right.”

After about thirty minutes, during which i nearly cried myself to sleep, i heard another of my friends come up the stairs. Quickly, i tried to sit up and wipe the tears off my face, but suddenly a spike of nausea ran up my throat. I covered my mouth and swallowed hard, trying not to be sick. 

At this point, Karina was standing outside the door, knocking, because she actually understood privacy. I stood up and walked toward the door, then stopped and doubled over, holding a hand to my mouth. Garbling something like “Come in,” i ran for the bathroom.

Karina entered and looked around her, surprised to find the room empty. Then she heard my retching from the bathroom and came running.

“Hon, are you ok?” she asked worriedly. 

I groaned, and vomited again, although not much was coming up. 

“Poor thing,” she murmured, and rubbed my back until i was done being sick. Looking into the toilet, she said, “I know this is awkward, but, babe, puke isn’t supposed to such a disturbing shade of red.”

I took a quick glance at the toilet’s contents before flushing them away. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry. I had some…” i searched for a red food. “Um.. tomatoes for lunch. I guess they were a little overripe.”

“Ok,” she sighed. “You really don’t eat enough. I can’t remember the last time i saw you with a slice of pizza.”

Although my mouth watered at the tempting image, the voices started yelling again. My stomach began to churn and i heard a loud gurgle emanating from my middle. “Let’s not talk about food,” i groaned quietly. 

She laughed a little and nodded, then started rubbing my belly.

“Hey, what are you doing?” i protested. She stopped and looked at me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” i looked down and blushed. “I’m just not really comfortable with… touching, y’know?”

“It’s fine,” she replied, though sounding a little disappointed. “Anyway, i nearly forgot the original reason i came up here.” I looked at her questioningly and she continued. “We sent Parker up to see if you wanted to come eat lunch with us. When he came back, he seemed really angry as he told us you weren’t coming. We asked why and he said, i quote, “He f***ing doesn’t feel good. The little b****.” Then he stormed off.”

Tears came into my eyes again as i remembered his previous words and paired them with these new ones. So it was official. He hated me. And Karina would probably hate me for puking in front of her. And now crying, as i had begun to sob quietly into my hands. 

“I’m sorry,” i whispered. 

“Don’t be sorry, hon. He’s just a jerk who needs to cool down a lot. He wasn’t really mad. He just misses spending time with you.”

That just made me cry harder. Which gave me the hiccups. Which made me start to puke again. Karina looked slightly grossed out by the scene in front of her. Apparently she was because she said, “If you need anything, call me. I’m going to go tell the gang where you are. I’ll come back in a bit. Feel better.”

I sobbed over the mess, noticing that there definitely was a large amount of blood in it. I wondered where it had come from, then remembered my sore middle. Sighing, i lay down with my cheek against the cold tile floor. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be alive. It hurt to be me. I cried myself to sleep. 

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, dressed in someone else’s pajamas, and strangely comfortable in my odd surroundings. Snuggling under the plaid comforter, I rolled over. And found myself face to neck with someone I would know anywhere. Jack, with his longish, shaggy hair, big brown eyes, and olive complexion. Immediately, I checked that I had pants on, which of course I did, but still. My sudden movement must have woken him up, because he rolled over and opened sleepy eyes. 

“Hey sunshine. It’s about time you got up.”

I felt my stomach constricting, just from his gaze. Me being in the same room with my senpai, for even two minutes, would give me butterflies. Now I was in his bed, wearing (presumably) his clothes, and he was talking to me. I was going to be sick and this was going to be mortifying. 

“Actually, I think i will get up,” I said quietly, and tried to. Unfortunately for me, the mere motion of sitting up made me so dizzy I fell back on the bed again. 

“Take it easy, Luc.” I nodded and tried to sit up again but he pushed me back down firmly. “The doctor said for you to stay in bed. Well, not the doctor, but Lizzy counts.”

“I have to pee,” I whined, blushing. 

“Oh,” he looked down. “Let me help you then.”

“Help me pee?” I nearly shrieked.

He was very red by now and so was I. “No, I mean, yes, I mean. You can barely stand up, much less walk to the bathroom across the hall on your own. Let me help.” He looked down at me and smiled crookedly. 

“Fine,” I grumbled, although I relished the idea of him carrying me. 

He pushed off the blankets and stood up, revealing a fine pair of batman boxers. “You like batman?” i asked.

“Everyone knows he’s the best,” the brunette said as he pulled the sheets back into place. 

“What about superman?” I challenged.

“Hah. That loser. Haven’t you seen the movie yet?” He gently piled pillows up until I was in a sitting position and then helped me maneuver my legs off the bed. 

“Nope. And don’t spoil it for me. I want it to be a surprise.” I stood up and nearly collapsed onto him. 

“I know who wins, and it starts with a B,” he teased as he supported nearly my full weight, which wasn’t that much. 

“Meanie,” I said, and punched him in the arm.

“You hit like a girl.”

“Maybe I am a girl.”

“Nope. Lizzy checked you out and said you’re male through and through.”

“Is that how I got into these pj’s, and by the way they are really nice.”

“Thank you, and yes. You didn’t think I’d change you myself, did you.”

I shivered, glad he hadn’t seen me. I’m hideous. We had reached the bathroom by now, and he stopped to open the door. “I can go by myself,” I protested as he came in with me. “Really, I’m a big boy now. Wait outside. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Ok. If you’re sure.” He looked down at me like i was his little brother, even pushing the hair out of my eyes. He walked out and shut the door behind him. I turned the lock and he said, “I heard that. Don’t you trust me?”

I don’t trust anyone, but I unlocked it anyway, just to make him happy. I did my business and as I was washing my hands, he called through the door, “What do you want for breakfast?”

Breakfast? He was probably expecting me to eat. Lizzy would have told him that I needed to if I was supposed to get better. All the nausea from the day before flooded back, setting my stomach to churning. 

When Jack didn’t hear a response he started listing things we could eat. “I have toaster waffles and bread for plain toast and bagels and cereal and I can make pancakes if you want and…”

I started heaving into the sink. I couldn’t help it. My stomach rebelled at even the thought of food. This was going to be a long day, I thought. 

The door opened and Jack rushed in. “Lucas.” That was all he said. Just my name. Because after he said my name, he saw what was in the sink. I didn’t need to look down. The expression on his face told me everything. 

“Lucas, you are going to a hospital and  you are going now,” he said and grabbed my arm. 

I couldn’t throw up again, I didn’t have anything left, but I still felt awful. And a hospital would only make it worse. “No.” I said, and tried to pull away. 

He didn’t let go. “Don’t fight me. Please.”

“I’m not going to a hospital.” I sat down on the floor, dragging him with me. I’d rather eat than go to a hospital. Too many people die there and I don’t want to be one of them. 

Just thinking about hospitals made me start to cry a little. “Come with me. Please,” Jack begged, giving me the puppy dog eyes that worked every time. 

“No,” I said again, and pulled away, curling up in a ball in the corner of the room. I must have been crying enough for him to notice, because he came over and wrapped his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. “Shhh,” he whispered into my hair. “What’s so bad about a doctor? They can make you better if you let them. You let Lizzy help you. What’s the difference between Lizzy and a real nurse.”

I sniffed. “Lizzy’s hands are warm and she doesn’t try to put n-n-needles in me.”

“Mmmhmm,” he murmured. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

He picked me up, then put me down again and looked at me, surprised. “You are really light, Lucas.”

I looked at him curiously. He must be joking. I weighed nearly a hundred pounds. I was way too fat for someone to be saying I was light. Especially with that worried look he was giving me. 

“Take your shirt off,” he said finally. 

“What?” I asked, apprehensively, covering myself with my arms. 

“I said take your shirt off, dammit. I’m not going to rape you or anything.” He was yelling at me. Why was he angry? Did I do something wrong again?

I pulled the top over my head but stayed curled up in a ball. 

“Now stand up.” He sounded annoyed. I definitely did something wrong. But what? Well, I puked in his sink, probably stained it red, also slept in his bed which contaminated it with whatever disease I had, he might have payed Lizzy to look at me. She usually didn’t work for free. Oh, and don’t forget, I got tears all over his pajama top. Yeah, that was probably it.

I hadn’t moved, so he reached down and pulled me to my feet, dragging me to a full length mirror along the wall. “Take a good look at yourself, Luc,” he said as he ran his hands over my abdomen. 

“Stop that,” I said while pushing his hands away. “I don’t like it. And i don’t want to.”

“Look.” He turned my head toward the mirror and wouldn’t let me look away. 

I saw a tall, thin boy looking back at me. He had bright red hair hanging over one side of his face with a white streak in it. His blue eyes were slightly sunken and red from crying. Dark circles sat under them and his skin was extremely pale. But as I looked lower down I saw hideousness, too horrible to describe. I was awful. I am awful. 

I started to cry again. “I hate it. I hate it,” I screamed to no one in particular. 

“What do you hate?” he asked, still not letting me turn my head. 

“I hate me. I’m terrible.”

“Why are you terrible?”

“I’m fat and ugly and everyone hates me and I want to die,” I sobbed. 

Jack sighed and let go. I collapsed backwards into his arms and just lay there, limply. “Lucas. I can see your bones. I can count all of your ribs. That isn’t healthy.”

“Did we not already establish that I’m sick?” i asked.

“Lizzy just thought you had a severe flu bug and that you hadn’t told anyone about it because you didn’t want someone to have to take care of you.”

If I actually had a flu bug, that’s probably what I would have done, but apparently I didn’t.

“So, what do I have if it’s not the flu?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I want a real doctor to look at you. Maybe he can make you feel better.”

I knew I could no longer pull the I feel fine card. Those days had long passed. I groaned into his shirt. “Fine. I”ll go to the Hospital but you have to come with me and hold my hand.”

He smiled down at me. “I couldn’t imagine leaving you there by yourself.”

Jack helped me put the top back on and then carried me into the car. The short drive to St. Mary’s Hospital was filled with the sound of Disney channel. I laughed as cartoon characters danced across the screen, making Jack’s serious face break into a grin. 

The lady at the desk told us to wait for a little bit, so we sat down in the waiting area. I curled up on Jack’s lap and he didn’t protest. “You know, you made Parker cry.”

“I did?” I asked, leaning into his shoulder. He was so soft and smooth, all over it seemed. “But Parker never cries.”

“He cried for you. When he realised that you were actually sick, he felt really bad for yelling at you. He thought that you just didn’t like being with us anymore and kind of felt left out. He really broke down, though, when Karina told him that you started throwing up again because you were crying about what he said. He hates to see you hurting.”

“I was sick because I’m sick, not because of him.”

“He knows. He just feels really bad. Be prepared for the best servant you will ever have to come visit you when you are better.”

“Servant?”

“If he feels like he’s wronged anyone, he’ll wait on them hand and foot until he feels like he has filled his debt.”

“Lucas?” A curly haired nurse beckoned to us. 

Jack picked me up and carried me as he followed the nurse. People started looking at us and I blushed. “Jack, they’re staring.”

“So? Let them stare. There’s no law about where your eyes can go in public. Besides, why do you care?”

I blushed harder and pressed my head into his shirt. “That’s what I thought,” he laughed. 

We entered a white room, super big and yet it made me claustrophobic at the same time. I didn’t realized I’d clenched his shirt in my fingers until he put me down on the bench and I had to let go. As soon as the physical contact left, I could feel my heartbeat speeding up, my lungs constricting, I couldn’t breathe. 

Jack noticed my odd behavior and quickly recognised them as signs of a panic attack. He got up on the bench with me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “Hey, Luc, it’s ok. I’m right here. If it makes you feel better, I won’t let go.”

I shook my head and leaned back into his warm chest, breathing his scent in deeply. “Promise that you’ll never let me go.” I closed my eyes, not expecting him to respond, but then I felt him kiss the back of my neck. I could feel myself turning red all over. 

“I promise,” he whispered into my ear. 

Just then, the doctor entered. His old face crinkled into a smile as he saw us sitting on the bench together. “It just warms my heart to see young couples like you come here together. It’s nice to know that you have someone to depend on.”

We looked at each other and then back at him. “We’re not a couple,” we said in unison, then looked at each other again, confused.

The doctor laughed and winked. “Of course not. Now, which one of you is Lucas Ray.” I raised my hand and he said, “I understand you haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“No, sir.” I knew he was only trying to help me but still doctors made me nervous, even with Jack holding me. “I’ve been dizzy and being s-s-sick, and my stomach hurts.” I blushed and looked down, not wanting to continue. The doctor seemed to know there was something more, though, and he turned to Jack.

“Does your partner have any other symptoms?” He asked, kindly.

I could tell Jack himself was uncomfortable discussing me, but he was brave enough to do what he had to. “He has been complaining of stomach pain for several weeks, although I doubt it was real until two weeks ago. He is vomiting mainly blood and he has lost a lot of weight.”

The doctor nodded. “Lucas, do you think you could step on a scale for me?” I nodded and hopped down from the bench, getting goosebumps where Jack’s arms had been. The doctor indicated where I should stand and i stepped up, turning my head away so I wouldn’t have to see the awful number. 

“110 lbs.” The doctor said as he wrote it down in a notebook. (160 = healthy for 6 foot male) “May I check your temperature as well?” I nodded and he stuck the thermometer in my ear, then wrote down another number. He also checked my blood pressure and listened to my breathing. I saw him frown as he ran his hands over my back, but he didn’t say anything to me.  

Instead, he turned to Jack. “You say he’s been puking up blood? For how long?” 

“Well, he was sick in the sink this morning when I mentioned food and yesterday when a friend of ours made him upset. Those were the only two times I was present but their could have been more.”

I spoke up, slightly timidly. “Um, excuse me, but this is my doctor’s appointment and I can speak for myself here.”

The doctor turned to me. “How long has there been blood in your vomit?”

I blushed and looked down, shaking my head.

“That’s why,” said the doctor. “Unfortunately, in your suspected condition, you are not expected to be able to tell the truth. Not because you want to lie, but because you simply believe something that isn’t true.” He turned to Jack again. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you outside for a minute.”

Jack turned to me. “Will you be alright alone in here? Five minutes, tops. I promise.”

I nodded and turned away but my heart was already starting race as they closed the door. What if I had something serious, like cancer? What if I was going to die? What if I never saw Jack again? What if I hyperventilated so much that I passed out on the bench, which is exactly what happened. 

I woke up to Jack standing over me whispering, “Lucas, I’m here. I’m here.” He was rubbing his face with his hands. They were really soft, his hands. Then I saw the doctor on the other side with a worried look on his face. 

“Excuse me son, but do you happen to suffer from anxiety?”

I just clutched at Jack’s hand, so he nodded for me. “Yes, sir. He nearly had a panic attack before you came in to check on him. It was because I put him down. I think he gets nervous when I leave.” i blushed but i didn’t let go. 

“Well, I’ll leave and see if it makes him more comfortable. Make sure you give him some water. There’s a sink in the corner. Call me when you think you’re ready for the prescription.” The doctor walked out.

Jack sat down on the bench and picked me up, setting me on his lap again and wrapping me up in a gentle bear hug. I had started shaking when the doctor said prescription. “Shh. Luc. It’s ok now. I’m here. I’ve got you,” he whispered into my hair.

“A-am I going to die?” I whimpered. 

“No. I won’t let that happen. Ever.” His arms tightened ever so slightly, reassuring me of his realness. 

“Then why does the doctor seem so angry with me? What’s my suspected condition?”

Jack sighed. “He’s not angry with you, just concerned. Drink some water and I’ll tell you what he thinks you have.”

“You’re a meanie,” I said, but I got a Dixie cup and filled it with water, then drank. The liquid felt odd going down my throat and it made my chest freeze but it was just water. I didn’t think water had any calories or at least not many. Then I climbed back into Jack’s lap, preparing myself for his news. 

Jack began. “The doctor says that you’re terribly underweight.” I cringed, thinking how that was just the opposite, but he continued. “Your temperature and blood pressure are both lower than is healthy and your breathing is shallow. You barely have any muscle. He thinks you’ve been vomiting much more than you’ve told anyone and it’s irritating the linings of your stomach and esophagus, which explains the blood.” He sighed and hugged me tight. It hurt a little but I didn’t mind. “Lucas, he thinks you have anorexia, along with a little overdose of anxiety and depression.”

Oh no. People with anorexia. I had heard about those people. They got put into a hospital and couldn’t see anyone until they were better. And being in the hospital this long was already making me feel worse. Or maybe it was just the talking about medical stuff. Either way, my head began to hurt and i started retching. Jack dragged me to nearby garbage bin but i had already made a watery pink mess on the floor. 

I started to cry for what seemed like the millionth time today. “I’m sorry,” i said as he wiped my mouth off with a paper towel. “I didn’t mean to be sick again. I just.. I just..” i was crying too hard to talk. 

Jack picked me up and started rocking me a little. “It’s ok, baby. I know it hurts.”

The doctor came back in and looked at the odd scene, putting the pieces together in his head. “I take it he didn’t take the news very well.”

“I don’t want to leave,” i wailed. “I want to stay with Jack. Or Jack to stay with me. Don’t make me go to a scary hospital forever. This was bad enough.”

Jack rubbed my back, trying to calm me down. It was soothing but i was still panicky, afraid he would let go and someone would try to drag me away.

The doctor said gently, “There is a way that we could treat you from home.” 

I looked up, my tearstained face full of hope.

“You need to start eating again. We have a special diet for patients like you. Start out slow with just a little to get your stomach used to food again. We’ll also give you some medicine for the pain and to try to heal the irritation but this process will take a while and you’ll need to live with someone who can make sure you are eating and force you too if necessary. If you still aren’t eating, then you will have to come to a hospital.”

Jack raised his hand. “I volunteer.”

I nearly grinned.

“Lucas can stay at your house then. I’ll have the pharmacy send you the first of those prescriptions. The instructions are on the package. I’ll have a sample of the vomit tested, just to make sure there isn’t something we’re missing. I’m confident the problem will be sorted out soon, though.”

“Thank you,” Jack said, shaking the doctor’s hand. He stood up to take me out but the doctor grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.

“There’s just one more thing, i’m afraid. Lucas is dehydrated and if he can barely hold down water, we’ll need to put some food and vitamins into him before he starts his diet, in case he has some unexpected side effects.”

My eyes grew wide in fear. I knew what was coming but i asked anyway. “What do you mean, put into me?”

“We’ll need to insert them through an IV drip. It should only take an hour or two but it will mean you’ll have to stay here until around noon. Will that be inconvenient?” 

Jack shook his head and tightened his grip on me. He could feel me tensing up and he wasn’t sure if it was because i was going to run or scream. “No, that will be just fine. There’s only one problem. Luc here has a slightly extreme fear of N-E-E-D-L-E-S.” he spelled it to make me feel better but i wasn’t any less scared.

“I’m sorry, but there’s not much we can do about that. Do you think he will be alright if you sit with him the whole time?”

“Well?” Jack looked down at me. 

I gave my head a sharp nod and then buried it in his shirt. I didn’t want the doctor to see me cry about something as stupid as needles and i wasn’t going to be able to help it. 

“Good. Nurse Ellen will prep him in the room down the hall.” the doctor opened the door and pointed, then walked the opposite direction.

Jack lifted up my head. “Really, i need to know if you can do this. You can be hurt very badly if you try to rip the IV out of your arm before it’s time.”

“You promise to stay with me the whole time?”

“Promise.”

“You won’t even leave to use the bathroom?”

“I’ll pee in a garbage can if i have to. Just look away.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” i asked as he carried me down the hall. “I mean i know we’re friends and everything, but the others seemed like they got really annoyed by me alot.”

“I am very tolerant and i.. I like you. I don’t want to see you hurting yourself and i suspected something like this for a while. I didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be offended.” he said this all in a rush but i managed to make most of it out. 

“Wait, what was that part at the beginning? You.. like me?”

He looked down and blushed.

“What is there to like about this? You’re carrying me through a hospital hallway to a room where i’m about to scream for two hours while you watch and you just saw me throw up twice, one of which probably stained your sink.” 

“I think i’ve always liked you,” he said, turning redder. “I just never really admitted it to myself until now. I like taking care of people. What better way to get to know you than by taking care of you?”

“You don’t want to know me,” i said, miserably. “I don’t even want to know myself.”

“Don’t say that. You’re a wonderful person. Everybody has a few flaws. We wouldn’t be human without them.”

We reached the room and he set me down in a chair as we waited for the nurse. 

In my head i was thinking, i’m not human. But i didn’t say it to him. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

The nurse entered the room, carrying a tray. I tried not to look at the shiny, sharp things on the tray, but i couldn’t help myself. She smiled and i noticed her teeth were very white. And pointed. 

“Sugar, can you get up on this bed for me?” she purred. It sounded so ominous when she said it. 

I climbed up onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. Unfortunately, hospital beds are not the easiest things to get comfortable in and i was soon tangled in the sheet. 

“Here, honey. Let me help you.” She pulled the cloth from around my legs and her nails dug into my skin. They were very long. 

Jack sat down next to me, ready to help, but the nurse pushed him away. “Hon, this is my job and it’s harder when you’re in the way.” Jack started to protest but she continued. “Don’t worry about your boyfriend (she said this in a sarcastic way.) He’s a big boy and he can take care of himself, can’t you?” She turned her glaring face toward me. I didn’t answer but i scooted as far away from her as i could. Which wasn’t very far, as i was already backed up against the wall. 

Jack mouthed, “I’m sorry” as the nurse shoved him into a chair. I gave a weak smile but i barely convinced myself. 

The nurse turned back to me. “Are you ready hon?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but went directly to the procedure. She swabbed my arm with the alcohol. It stung. Her hair was in my face, long and blond, hanging around me. It was suffocating. I could feel it strangling me. It was….

She backed away and i was able to breathe again. Jack looked at me reassuringly. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I was too busy staring at the needle. Long and sharp, glinting in the light from the slightly flickering bulb on the ceiling. She held it up, like an assasin preparing to strike. I’m gonna die i’m gonna die i’m gonna die was the song on repeat in my head. 

Pain shot up my arm as she slid the needle smoothly into my flesh. I saw blood slide up into the tube at the end. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. As she put the tape on, the edges of my vision began to blur. I couldn’t feel anything. 

I saw Jack out of the corner of my eye, but then the nurse’s face filled up the space. She pushed him out of the way again and got very close to me. Her suffocating hair, sharp teeth, evil glint in her eyes. She was a vampire! She was trying to murder me! I’m dying… was the last thought i had before completely blacking out. 

Jack’s POV

The weird nurse wouldn’t let me get close to Lucas. She kept pushing me away and looking at him hungrily. He looked so afraid, i just wanted to hold him, tell him i was there, let him know he was safe. Although, i wasn’t even sure i was safe with that creepy nurse. 

And then when she stuck that needle into him… He started screaming, like i’ve never heard anyone. I tried to go to him again, but she wouldn’t let me. She bent over him and i didn’t know what else to do. I pulled her off, but she fought back, slashing at me with surprisingly sharp nails, and she even bit me. I had to take her scarf and tie her to a chair with it before she stopped trying to claw my eyes out. 

A doctor came in, probably from all the noise we were making. When he saw the nurse on the floor, he came over and untied her. I was standing innocently in the corner, and with all of her swearing, the doctor barely noticed me. He seemed to think the nurse was injured and ended up half dragging her out of the room. I was left alone in the room with Lucas. Who was still screaming. 

The door didn’t have a lock on it so i shoved one of the chairs under the handle. It’s not that i didn’t trust anyone, i was just sort of paranoid that the scary nurse would come back. I couldn’t bear to see her hurting Lucas again. 

I turned back toward the bed where he was lying. His small pink mouth was open in eternal screaming. I saw his chest rise every time he took a breath but they were so short that i didn’t know how he hadn’t suffocated yet. 

I clambered onto the bed and looked at his arm. It didn’t seem as though anything was out of order but i didn’t want to hurt him more by taking it out. I looked at the bag that fluid was flowing out of into him. It was still three-fourths full. We would be here for a while. 

I lay down on the bed next to him, wrapping my arms around him like i did during his panic attack. I thought it might help him to calm down, to get out of his permanent state of shock. At first, i thought it was working. His breathing slowed down enough that he could take a few deep breaths. But after a few minutes, he began to scream again. 

I was really scared. What if something really was wrong? Although no one had come to see what was going on. Maybe screaming was a normal occurrence inside a hospital. Don’t think about that. That’s not a safe place to go. 

I smoothed Lucas’ hair back from his face. He wasn’t sweating, he was just laying there. Screaming. I wished i could talk to him, tell him he was ok, i’m here, nothing is going to happen to you. You’re safe. 

I tried rubbing his back, rubbing his hands (they were little icicles), rubbing his neck, nothing worked. He wouldn’t wake up. He just lay there, unmoving, except for the slight rise in his chest when he took another breath and his small lips opening and shutting. His eyes remained closed, long, dark lashes brushing his pale cheek. 

I couldn’t help it. I started to cry. Oddly enough, i was being quiet, trying not to wake him up, even though that was all i wanted. I buried my face in the side of his neck and whimpered, re soaking my shirt that he wore. I let my lips brush against his skin. It was still cold, like death. But i could feel his heart beating. 

“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered. “We just started getting to know each other. If you go i’ll be all alone again.”

I fell asleep next to him, still holding on, slightly crying. I dreamed, but it wasn’t pretty. And when Lucas eventually woke up, i was the one screaming. 

Lucas’ POV

My eyes hurt. My head hurts. I reach one hand up to rub my eyes. My arm hurts. The light in this room is flickering. It’s disorienting me. Where’s Jack? I want Jack.

Lazily i turn my head to the side. It hurts to move. I see his beautiful face laying next to mine on the pillow. Where are we? Why is he in bed with me… again? Not that i’m complaining or anything but… 

His face suddenly twists up and i hear him moan again. That’s what had woken me up. “Jack,” i call, but quietly. I touch his shoulder but he doesn’t react. His face is turning red. I think something is wrong. 

“Jack.” i shake him. “Jack, wake up.” 

He opens his eyes slowly, groggily. “Stop, don’t hurt me. Don’t let them hurt me!” He still mumbling about something from his dreamland, eyes searching the room wildly for some invisible foe. 

“Jack, it’s Lucas. You’re not with them anymore. You’re with me.” I didn’t know who he was talking about but it worried me to see that panicked look on his face. I’m not used to being the comforter. Only comforted, and that not very much. 

Jack, still half asleep, stands up and darts around the room, batting at shadows. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Jack, i’m not hurt,” i called from the bed. “I’m fine. No one is trying to get me and no one is trying to get you either.”

He turned to me, looking at me with a sort of scared, innocent expression. “Prove it. Come over here.” Though he sounded like a petulant five year old, it was still endearing to hear him say that he wanted me, even if he wasn’t aware that that was what he was saying. 

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, then swung my feet on the floor. Ok so far. Then i stood up. Bad idea. I swayed, feeling extremely dizzy. But i took one step and then another. He needed me and i would be there for him no matter what. Even if it killed me. I didn’t care. I guess that’s what it’s like when you’re in love. 

*Soulmate AU where the injuries of your soulmate show up on your own body*

Ash glanced down at his leg. The purple stain of a bruise was slowly fading. It didn’t cause him any pain, obviously. It belonged to the person who he would love in the future. His soulmate. Who seemed to end up with random bruises fairly often and in the strangest places. 

He was glad that he was the only one who could see these injuries. One of the more recent had been a black eye and swollen lip combo, as if someone had beaten him over the head with something. He felt really bad for his soulmate. They had to walk around school and everywhere with everyone else able to see. Whoever they were, these bruises weren’t something you could get by just being clumsy. 

Generally, Ash didn’t really pay attention to his soulmates injuries. In the past, they had been more commonplace. A scraped knee, a paper cut, a blister or two. More recently they had been very heavy. Ash was fairly sure that his soulmate was being beaten. He wished he knew who it was so he could do something about it. No one deserved this. 

A few days later

In the middle of his math class, Ash began to feel very strange. There was a tightening in his chest. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. There was something wrong happening. He could feel it. He needed to stop it but he didn’t know what it was. 

Ash excused himself from class, before going to hide in the school library. Hopefully no one would find him there. The panicked feeling grew. He tapped his fingers nervously on the floor. It was nerve racking, not knowing what was going to happen.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his wrist. He nearly cried out but he bit his lip instead, tasting blood in his mouth. Raising his wrist to eye level, he saw a thin red line forming over the blue veins crisscrossing his skin. 

No, he thought. No. 

Another line appeared below the first, this one obviously deeper than the last. It was accompanied by a sort of burning ache. 

Why, he asked himself. Why would they do this?

More lines crawled their way up his arm, beads of blood bubbling out of them. 

Stop, he whispered. Please. 

The line forming on his palm paused. It seemed to be deciding whether it would continue. Then it pressed deeper than the others, cleaving the skin so that it split away. 

Ash closed his hand, unwilling to look at the gruesome sight. He curled up in a ball, trying to figure out what he was going to do. He attempt to block these thoughts from his mind but every time he shut his eyes or even looked down, there they were, glaring up at him like evil grins.

There wasn’t really anything he could do, was there?

He returned to his classes and when he got home, he dug around in his closet until he found an old pair of fingerless gloves. That and an old hoodie would be his attire until these scars faded. He couldn’t bear to look at the gashes inflicted on himself. Some voice in the back of his head whispered that this was his fault. He could have prevented this.

Ash pulled his black beanie down over his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He needed some rest after the night he’d had. His teacher had other plans. “Wake up, Young Man. What I’m telling you now is important. You’ll use it the rest of your life.”

Bay struggled to keep his eyes open. He was so exhausted but he really needed to pay attention. His head slumped forward but he snapped it back up again in time to see the teacher yelling at another student. This teacher was quite brutal. He felt bad for the poor soul.

But he had his own problems to worry about. “Sir?” Bay raised his hand timidly. 

“What is it?” the teacher snapped, turning his frustration from the other student to Bay. 

“I’m not feeling well. May I go see the nurse?”

“Oh my god!” the teacher growled. “Have you not been paying attention? I was just explaining to this young man how essential this unit is to your education. You will not survive in this world if you haven’t memorized the concept of conversions. Why don’t students ever listen to me?”

The teacher rambled on but Bay just tuned him out. It was getting more and more easy to do that with adults. Unfortunately, he was actually beginning to feel ill. In fact-

Bay stood up from his seat and quickly walked out of the room. Once in the hallway, he ran to the bathroom and was violently sick. Nothing came up but it was awful just the same.

Ash had watched the scene play out with zero emotion. He was too tired for this bullshit. Why were teachers such assholes? The teacher was now calling the office to warn teachers about a runaway student. Ash put his head down on his desk. He didn’t feel well. He could have gone to the nurse but he was too tired to deal with this shit. The teacher must have given up on forcing children to learn, because Ash didn’t wake up until the bell rang and he had to go to his next class. The world spun for a moment as he stood up but he just brushed it off. The tacos he’d had last night were probably just disagreeing with him.

Bay stood up from his spot by the toilet and immediately sat back down again. If He was too dizzy to stand up, how was he supposed to get to the nurse? He hauled himself up again and leaned on the wall until he thought he could support his own weight again. He was able to make it out to the hall when the bell rang. Passing time. The worst time to be extremely off balance and disoriented.

Bay staggered around, confused, until somebody bumped into him and he fell over. He groaned at the thought of having to get up again. He just wanted to lay down and sleep. 

“Hey, are you alright?”

A boy with shaggy dark hair and a concerned expression was bending over him. 

“Mmm.” Bay made an incoherent noise and shook his head. Everything was too loud and he wanted to hide in a dark room and make it all go away.

“Shh shh it’s ok. Let me help you up. I’ll take you to the nurse.” The boy with black hair reached out a gloved hand. Bay took it and was surprised at the strength used to haul him to his feel. He swayed and an arm was looked around his waist, holding him upright. 

“Wow. You were not lying about being sick earlier.”

Bay made a confused face and The black haired boy explained they shared a math class. They reached the nurse’s office and the boy dropped him off. Bay was sooo happy to lie down on a cot and finally get some sleep. 

The nurse shook Bay’s shoulder. “Honey, you need to get up now.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled. 

She shook a tiny bit harder and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“Do you want to go back to class now or do you need to go home? I can call your parents if..”

“I’ll go back to class,” Bay answered quickly. He stood up quickly and swayed. The nurse pushed him back down. 

“If you have a transferable disease, I’m afraid you will have to go home. Let me take your pulse.” She grabbed his wrist. He pulled away slightly and his sleeve moved, exposing a few scabs.

“Oh honey, what’s that?”

Bay yanked his hand away from her. “It’s nothing. I just fell on some glass. I’m fine. Best get going. Can’t miss human bio.” He stood up a bit more slowly and made his way to his next class as fast as he possibly could. 

Ash stood in the shower, rubbing shampoo into his hair. He loved the way bubbles felt on his skin. It was a guilty pleasure of his, one which he didn’t bother to share with anyone. Suddenly he felt the panic. Though it was routine for him now, it always upset him. Today the red lines cross crossed his thighs. “No more ripped jeans for me,” he sighed. The pain was greater than usual, which was surprising since the cuts were usually deep anyway. He looked down to see his own blood swirling down the drain. At first he thought it was just part of their connection, a more intense projection of emotions. But when he ran his fingers over the cuts, blood came off on his fingers and everything stung under the water. His soulmate had cut too deep, cut into him. 

Ash got out of the shower. He tried to bandage the cuts but they kept bleeding through. This was too much for him to handle. He went to bed, hoping that when he woke up, all of this would disappear. 

In the morning, he’d forgotten about previous nights events until he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There were newly healed scars from his elbows to his shoulders and scabbed over cuts from his elbow to his wrist. The cuts on his thighs were just barely shut and some were still sleeping blood. There were a few thin lines on his torso and by his ankles. There was so much destruction it hurt to look at it. 

Ash dressed in some black sweats and a hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence, deceive himself again. But he couldn’t get the images out of his head. He left first period and hid in the library to cry. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this but he just couldn’t handle this anymore. He wished he could help whoever it was that felt this was necessary. He didn’t want to live seeing these everyday. Depression covered him like a blanket.

Bay limped to his English class. His leg burned but he needed to finish his essay and how was he supposed to do that in a hospital? The teacher announced they would be working in the library and Bay almost cheered. That was his favorite place to be in this school. It was very quiet and easy to concentrate. People didn’t mine if he went off in a corner to work by himself. Sometimes he’d even stay there a while a skip his other classes. 

He needed another source for his essay on rare marine iguanas, so he headed to a shelf. Unlike many of the people in his generation, he preferred books over internet sites. They had a certain thing about them that made them more comfortable, familiar, and personal. As he scanned the bottom row, he saw a tuft of black hair behind a book about macaws. He turned the corner to find a seemingly familiar figure lying on the floor. 

At first he thought the person was asleep but when he knelt down beside them, he saw golden brown eyes searching his face. “Hey,” he began shyly. “Remember me? Sorry I didn’t catch your name the other day. I’m Bay. Thanks for helping me. I was pretty out of it.”

The other figure, who appeared masculine, sat up scrubbing his face with his sleeve. “Don’t mention it.” His voice was strained and rough sounding. “I’m Ash.” He held out his fingerless leather gloved hand. Bay shook it.

“I know this is none of my business but may I ask what you’re doing in here? I’m supposed to be working on an essay, but it looks like you were… brainstorming.”

Ash laughed, though his eyes weren’t smiling. “You could say that. Definitely had some deep thoughts to think.” His face merged back into a frown. 

Bay took a deep breath. “Do you think you could use a friend to help you think?”

“Friends are always welcome,” Ash said, smiling again.

“Great.” Bay scooched over next to Ash. “So… what is on your mind?”

“Well,” Ash looked down. “This is sort of awkward.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Bay encouraged. “You’ve already seen me in one of my worst moments.”

“I-I have a friend that hurts them self. They keep doing it often and a lot. It makes me very upset because I want to know why they feel this way. Im worried about them. I’m afraid of… what could come next.”

Bay wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. What do you tell someone when they tell you their friend self-harms? He decided the best option was comfort and he reached over to Ash and hugged him.

Ash was very surprised. He wasn’t used to getting hugs from other boys. Not that he had anything against bugs. In fact, this one felt kind of nice. He relaxed into it. Bay stopped panicking as soon as the tension drained out of Ash. 

“Thanks,” Ash said, gruffly. He was starting to tear up but he didn’t want to cry again in front of Bay. “It’s very kind of you to want to help me.”

“Anything for a friend.”

“This is nice, but I really should go back to class now.” Ash pulled out of the hug. Bay felt a tiny bit emptier as Ash’s body heat left him but he tried to ignore it.

“See ya.” He gave a little wave. 

“Bye.” 

They both stood up, Ash preparing to leave and Bay now scanning this shelf for research materials. 

Ash turned around as he reached the end of the shelf. “Hey, can I get your number?”

“Sure…” Bay’s voice trailed off. He was feeling extremely lightheaded.

“Bay?” Ash said concernedly. He ran forward to catch Bay as he fell. Ash held the unconscious boy in his arms for a second, trying to take in the situation. A kid had just passed out in the library. He should really tell an adult but he didn’t want to leave Bay unattended. The teachers were all on the other side of the library, making this the perfect place for crying and working quietly. It was not, however, the perfect place to deal with a medical emergency.

Thankfully Bay’s eyes opened a few seconds later. “W-what?” He mumbled.

Ash gently layer him down on the floor. “You just passed out. Do you remember your name and where you are? Does anything hurt?”

“I’m Bay and this is the school library. And… now that you mention it, I’ve got a killer headache.” He covered his eyes and made an uncomfortable sounding noise. 

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” Ash walked quickly to the water fountain and back, hoping he wouldn’t be caught. Food and water wasn’t allowed in the library, as it could damage the books and computers. Ash really didn’t want to get in trouble right now.

“Here. Drink this. it should help.”

Bay took the water bottle and sipped slowly. “It still hurts. But I guess dehydration doesn’t go away in a second.”

“Nope. Is that why you passed out you think?”

“Yea. Probably. I never drink enough water.”

“We should probably tell an adult about this, just in case it turns out to be something a bit more serious.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” To prove his point Bay pushed himself up into a sitting position. His eyes were squinting from the pain in his head.

“Did you eat anything today?” Ash asked, wondering if there could be another possible cause for the episode, but not wanting to alarm Bay with talk of adults and doctors.

“Not yet. I never have breakfast.”

“Did you bring a lunch?”

“I forgot mine today and I don’t have money.”

“I’ll get you something.”

“It’s ok. I’m not hungry.”

“For later then.”

“No. Thanks, but really, I’m good.”

Ash sighed. This child definitely needed some calories in him but he was refusing anything Ash offered.

“Fine. I won’t get you anything.”

Bay almost sighed with relief, but then he caught himself.

“But you’re coming with me after school.”

Bay groaned.

“What? Is the prospect of going somewhere with me that undesirable?”

Bay blushed and laughed. “Never mind. See you then.”

The boys parted ways, Ash returning to a class he hadn’t left and Bay finishing his water before going to turn in some homework.

After school, the boys met in the school parking lot. 

“So, I’ll follow you?” Bay suggested.

“Nope. You’re riding with me. I don’t want you to accidentally make a wrong turn. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back here to pick up your car after.”

“Okedoke.” Bay strapped himself into the passenger seat as Ash pressed the gas.

They drove through a town which they were both familiar with and stopped at a McDonalds. Bay’s hands began to sweat. He really didn’t like ordering things at restaurants. 

Ash held the door open for him and the bell chimed as they walked in. Bay looked up at the menu. There were so many choices. The words began to spin, calorie sections looming out at him.

“C’mon Bay. It’s our turn to order.” Ash grabbed Bay’s sleeve and tugged him to the counter. “I’ll have a large double bacon cheeseburger, large fries, a large soft drink, and  a large McFlurry in strawberry. Bay, what do you want?”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Bay muttered.

Ash mad a pouty face. “My treat?”

Bay panicked. What did they serve here anyway? He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Ummm, small fries and water please.”

“A small fries and a water it is then,” Ash beamed at the cashier.

“Coming right up,” the cashier replied cheerily. “You boys wait here.”

Why did you say that? Bay thought to himself. Stupid. Stupid. stupid. Do you have any idea how many calories are in that? Of course you do. The chart is right there idiot. And there are way too many. All that salt, all that grease. There’s nothing healthy about it. 

Their food came out of the kitchen and they took it to a table. Ash bit into his burger with gusto, sauce dripping onto his face and hands.

Bay stared down at his small fries. The smell made him nauseous. Thinking about eating them made him want to throw up. He counted them. 27 small fries. 27. That was too big a number to go inside his stomach. He looked up. Ash was watching him as he chewed mouthfuls of burger. Bay picked up the smallest of his twenty seven fries. He felt the salty grease on his fingers. He put it in his mouth he didn’t want it to be in his mouth. His stomach clenched. It would refuse anything thing he put in it. Should he spit this fry out and say it was burnt? He chewed slowly. He felt the crisp outside of the fry crunch against his teeth. The soft guts of mashed potato spilled out onto his tongue. It felt wrong in his mouth. He swallowed. The potato stuck in his throat. He swallowed again. Saliva pooled in his mouth. He was going to be sick. Bay drank some of his water. The mashed up fry was now in his stomach. He could feel it. It was warm compared to the rest of his stomach’s contents, which only consisted of the water from earlier. He didn’t like the way it felt in his stomach he wanted it out. He tried very, very hard not to throw up and waited for Ash to finish eating.

Ash let out a long belch. “Braaap. Hoo! That was a lot. I think I ate too much.” He poked his belly, which was pushing out from under his hoodie. 

“Me too,” Bay said quietly.

Ash looked at Bay with a confused expression. “You barely ate anything.”

Bay looked down. “I know. I wasn’t hungry today. Sorry. You can have the rest.”

“But what did you mean by-“

“Never mind.” Bay shook his head and pushed the rest of his fries toward Ash. “It’s nothing.”

“If you say so.” Ash took the extra fries but he chewed them with concern. Bay had been distant and sickly looking the whole time they’d been at the restaurant. He didn’t know Bay very well so this could have been his modus operandum but to Ash this seemed unhealthy. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Bay said,a little snappishly. A few minutes later, however,he looked even worse. “Could you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the restroom.”

“Sure. I’ll be outside in the car when you’re ready to go.” 

“Thanks.” Bay flashed a weak smile before getting up unsteadily and walking quickly to the washroom. 

Ash went to stand up and felt a sharp cramp in his middle. He looked down at his belly, which had definitely grown in size since the morning. He was way too full. Thinking about his new acquaintance had distracted him from his stomach’s aching until now. He didn’t feel very well. 

He thought he might be sick. He hadn’t thrown up since the third grade when he’d had the swine flu and he was a little afraid of doing it again. Ash hauled himself out of the booth and went into the washroom. He wanted to be prepared, just in case. As he opened the door, he heard retching from one of the stalls. Someone else was being sick. Maybe there was something in the food that was making him feel this way. 

The stall opened and Bay emerged. Feeling guilty for not waiting outside like he’d said he would, Ash his behind the door, watching through a crack. Bay washed his hands at the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes and Ash thought he say a tear trickle down Bay’s cheek. Then Bay scrubbed his face with cold water and turned to dry his hands. 

Ash ran out to the car, hoping he would be in and casual looking before Bay came out. He was very worried about the boy. He must be really ill to be having all these symptoms. 

Abruptly, something inside him shifted and Ash was feeling more uncomfortable than he had for a long while. He could feel everything he’d just swallowed churning in his gut, which wasn’t very happy with him. Ash thought his intestines might burst. He was really glad he hadn’t ordered dessert. 

Bay sat in front of the toilet, fingers down his throat. It seemed so normal, so routine, this ritual that he practiced after every forced feeding. If only he didn’t have to do this. If only it wasn’t needed. But he deserved it. He deserved this punishment. He felt awful, both emotionally and physically. 

With all his stomach’s meager contents safely in the toilet bowl, he stood up and flushed. The saliva clung to his hand in slimy strings. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. He ran his hands under the water, washing them thoroughly, and rinsed the acid taste he’d grown accustomed to out of his mouth.

Bay stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror. His lips were chubby. His arms were flabby. Even his face was fat. How could anyone bear to look at him? Why did he even bother existing? He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Being sentimental? “What a pussy. Man up, bitch ass,” he whispered to himself. 

He couldn’t be caught looking like he was crying, so Bay scrubbed his face until it looked normal, took a deep breath, and walked out to the car.

As he opened the door, Bay could see the pained expression on Ash’s face. The black haired boy was hunched over, his head resting on the steering wheel. He cradled his distended belly and moaned. 

“You ok?” Bay asked, already knowing the answer. 

Ash shook his head, not changing position, and moaned again. “That was way too much for any rational minded person to try and fit inside their body. But of course I’m the dumbass with eyes bigger than his stomach.”

“Can I help?” Bay queried, wanting to make his new friend more comfortable.

“Got any suggestions?”

“Well,” He said tentatively, “You could always, you know, get rid of it.”

“Nah, that’s a waste of money. And I really, really don’t like throwing up.” The last sentence came out more like a whimper as an especially powerful cramp squeezed Ash’s belly. He breathed in sharply, clenching his teeth.

“Do you think a belly rub would help?”

Ash looked over at Bay, who was nervously messing with his fingers. “Why not.” Ash groaned. “It can’t make it worse.”

Bay locked the car doors and helped Ash recline his seat back. Having his tender tummy exposed to someone else’s hands was a prospect Ash hadn’t considered for his first outing with a person. Bay gently pulled the lower part of Ash’s hoodie up, revealing a very swollen, very unhappy looking tummy. It bulged out, audibly sloshing and gurgling. An angry red line ran down the center, showing how much it had stretched. 

Bay placed his hands on it. They were still cold from the sink water and Ash pulled away in protest at first. Eventually, though, he pushed his hot middle into the cool soothing hands running across it. Bay’s talented fingers massaged out cramps and pressed into pockets of air, resulting in burps and embarrassed looks from Ash. 

Secretly, Bay loved the feeling of the taught, feverish skin against his fingertips. the elastic give of human skin was fascinating to him. Occasionally he would playfully poke the belly, gaining surprised yelps from its owner. 

Eventually, Ash’s belly had calmed down enough that it wasn’t drowning out their conversation with it’s gurgling and Ash’s pain was tolerable.

“So, did we learn a lesson about overdoing it today?” Bay asked playfully.

“I know I did,” Ash laughed. “But I can’t promise I won’t have to learn it again.” He paused and became a bit more serious. “What about you?”

“What about me?”Bay was suddenly wary. 

“I heard you in the bathroom. Are you sick?”

“No.” Bay bit his lip.

“Tell me the truth.” Ash really cared about his new friend. He knew something wasn’t right and he wanted to help him.

“I promise, I’m not sick,” Bay said, his face unreadable. “At least, not in the conventional way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ash demanded. 

“You can’t really drive right now,” Bay said, changing the subject. “Would you rather I drive you home and you take me back to school tomorrow or I drive you to school and you chill out there until you’re feeling better.”

Ash frowned. He could tell Bay was avoiding the subject and he knew he could get it out of him. “You didn’t answer my question. And why couldn’t we go to your house?”

“Well, you didn’t answer mine either.”

“I asked first.”

Bay shoved Ash over into the passenger seat. “Your house it is then. Address please?”

“Not until you answer my question.”

“My dad’s home. Address please?”

“Huh?”

“I answered your question. We can’t go to my house because my dad’s home. Address?” Bay was becoming visibly unsettled. Ash knew he really didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. 

“I’m not done with this,” Ash said quietly, before telling Bay the address. 

A few minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway of a one-story brick house in a residential neighborhood. It was small, but the bursting garden and light catchers in the window made it cozy and homelike. 

“Nice flowers,” Bay commented. He could smell the blooms without rolling down his window.

“It’s my mom’s thing. She likes crafts and projects. Gives her something to do. Keeps her from being bored.” Ash hauled himself out of the car. He could walk on his own and the food was settling, but his large belly was unmissable. 

They walked to the porch and Ash opened the door. “Hey Mom, I’m home,” he called as he stepped inside, beckoning for Bay to follow him. 

A chubby lady, seeming to be in her late forties and with a multitude of blonde curls came running towards them. She hugged Ash, probably a bit too tightly as his face changed color for a few seconds, and then stepped back. “Honey, you’re home kind of late. Anything you want to tell me?”

“Mom, this is my friend Bay. I took him out to a late lunch and brought him over to hang out. We left his car at the school so is it ok if he stays over?”

“Well, I don’t see why not darling. Should I cook up something extra scrumptious for dinner then?”

Bay shook his head slightly at Ash, pleading with his eyes. Ash complied. “Actually, we just finished and we’re really full. We might have overdone it. But thanks for the offer, Mom.”

“I can tell,” she said, playfully poking his belly. “Well, run along then. Don’t break anything.”

“I won’t, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Come on, Bay. I want you to meet my dog.”

The boys walked down a hallway and entered Ash’s room. It was as punk/emo/goth as you’re picturing, with band posters hung up everywhere. Dirty clothes, mostly in black, were scattered across the floor. An unmade bed- really a mattress with sheets- was tucked in one corner of the room, while a battered wooden dresser sat in the one diagonal from it. 

Ash flopped down on his bed, propping himself up with a few ratty pillows. Bay made himself a sort of nest out of the clothes on the floor, though he had a very strong urge to wash them, fold them neatly, and shove them all back into the dresser. 

They made small talk for a few minutes before Ash again brought up the dreaded subject. “Why aren’t you eating?”

The question caught Bay by surprise, even though he had been expecting it. He could feel the tears returning to his eyes and he really didn’t want to cry. “This topic makes me uncomfortable. Could we please not talk about it?” He asked meekly.

Ash felt bad for prying. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you upset. But this seems like a serious issue. I know we haven’t know each other that long but you’re my friend and I care about you.”

Bay’s heart pounded nervously. He hadn’t told anyone this before. But maybe he would feel better once it was out in the open. “I,” He began slowly. “I have an eating disorder.” He tensed, preparing for the blows he was used to but none came. He searched Ash’s face for signs of anger and disgust. Instead he found confusion.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what that is. Could you explain it for me please?” He looked genuinely curious, not like he was teasing, so Bay decided to risk it. 

“I just don’t eat. Or when I do, I purge it. If I can’t purge in time, then I punish myself but that doesn’t happen often.”

“Why?” This question was something Bay hadn’t exactly thought about before. He knew what he felt when he did it but the actual cause he wasn’t sure of. 

“I deserve it, I guess,” he answered.

“You know that doing that can result in death, right?” Though not intended or toned to be sarcastic, Bay felt like his trust had been betrayed already. 

“Like I said, I deserve it,” he muttered, no longer looking at Ash.

“You’re so young to die, though. You’ve got the whole rest of your life to do something great.” Ash honestly didn’t understand how anyone could want to die. Even on his worst days, like this one, he knew there were people he had to live for, people who needed him. He’d feel so guilty even considering the idea. 

“Everyone dies,” Bay said darkly, as he unlaced his shoe. “Why does it matter when it happens?

Ash didn’t really have an answer to that. He wasn’t sure what to say. He rolled over, leaving his back toward Bay. He needed some time to think. 

Now along with his soulmate, who’s life wasn’t great, he had another person to take care of. Not that he didn’t want to take care of people. It actually made him feel like he had a purpose. But these weren’t problems that he knew how to deal with. Ash did some googling for a while.

Bay had gotten his shoelace entirely out of his sneaker. He put it around his neck, above his choker, then tied it with a slip knot and pulled. He wasn’t actually going to kill himself of course. He knew his limit. This was just a game he played with himself when he was very upset. Sort of like how long can you hold your breath, except there were two ways to lose. 

Ash looked up. “Hey, stop that!” 

Bay turned towards him, letting go of the lace. “What?”

“You know what. Come here.” Ash looked frustrated. Bay was scared. Ash seemed nice but one could never be too sure. Bay slowly came over to Ash’s mattress and sat down. 

“You can’t do things like this.” Ash carefully untied the lace from Bay’s neck, sliding it into the pocket of his own hoodie. 

“Why not?” Bay asked petulantly.

“There are people who care about you, people who want you to be safe, to live. You’re scaring me. I knew that suicide was a thing but i’ve never met anyone who was suicidal.”  

“That you know of,” Bay added quietly. “People aren’t always as open about it as i am.”

“Oh.” Ash sat silently for a second. He hadn’t thought of that. Of course not everyone would say exactly what they were feeling. He knew he didn’t all the time. This was a lot to take in and Ash was still a little overwhelmed. He wanted some time to process everything but now he knew he had to keep an eye on Bay. 

“Let’s watch a movie,” Ash suggested. Bay nodded in agreement. Ash pulled up Netflix on his laptop and scooted Bay closer to him on the bed. Having both read Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for an English Lit assignment, the tv show Sherlock seemed like a good choice. 

They binge watched the first two seasons, becoming mesmerized by Benedict Cumberbatch’s acting skills and enjoying John Watson as a character. During dramatic moments, Ash used Bay’s entrancement as a cover to slowly get closer, first just touching fingers, then holding hands, and finally putting his arm around him. 

He hoped that Bay would see this as a friendly gesture, or possibly one meaning that the eerie soundtrack was affecting him. Really, however, these actions were to keep Bay from escaping. Ash was good at reading most people and knowing how they were feeling, or so he thought, but Bay was unpredictable. He didn’t know what Bay was capable of and he was slightly afraid that Bay might try something else untoward. 

This tactic was working so far. Bay had noticed the increasing closeness of his friend. He wasn’t sure in what context to put it but he knew that using the “I need to use the bathroom” excuse would no longer work. He was enjoying the film and the non-threatening physical contact was kind of nice. Bay tried to relax. It was going pretty well until Ash had yawned for the seventh time. 

Bay paused the show. “Are you getting tired? It’s only nine.”

“A bit, yea. A heavy meal does make one sleepy. It’s probably a good time for us both to turn in. I’ll have to take you back home tomorrow.”

That last sentence was the one that ruined it all. Home was not a happy place for Bay, nothing like it was for Ash. But he was already so freaked out that Bay didn’t dare tell him another awful thing. However, he’d already decided that he wasn’t going home. 

“Good idea. Do you mind if i leave the show playing though? TV helps me sleep.”

“Same. Sure, why not?”

Bay glued his eyes to the screen, determine not to fall asleep. The show was really good and he wouldn’t have wanted to miss any even if he didn’t also have ulterior motives. 

Ash eventually nodded off, his head slowly falling onto Bay’s shoulder, and his grip on Bay’s waist loosening. Bay waited until he could hear the heavy breathing of deep sleep. He was very practised at this.

Carefully, he slid Ash’s head onto a pillow and his arm around a stuffed goth bear. Bay was free. He eased open the door and stepped into the hall. Though it was very dark in Ash’s room (lights off, shades down, and dusky outside(perfect for watching netflix)), his parents were still awake so the lights were on. Bay’s eyes took a moment to adjust. 

He hadn’t really payed much attention to his surroundings before but now his instincts kicked in and he noticed more things. For instance, the carpet in this hallway was deep which would make it easier to walk quietly but the walls were papered with a cheery bluebell print on mustard yellow, a hard to keep clean color palette. A few feet forwards on the opposite wall was a white door he thought might lead to the bathroom. He shuffled down the hallway until he reached the living room. Ash’s mom was watching Criminal Minds and crocheting doilies out of neon green and orange yarn. A man Bay assumed was Ash’s father could be seen through a sliding glass door smoking cigarettes on a slightly run down patio. another doorway opened into what looked like a kitchen. 

Bay ran through his plan. Originally he had thought about trying to get sleeping pills but it would be hard to think of a plausible reason to need them, as it was only nine and people his age often didn’t sleep until much later. Complaining of a headache would be much more likely to happen.

Bay stepped out into the open. Ash’s mother looked up. “Oh, hello dear. Is there anything i can do for you?”

Bay put a hand to his forehead and made a pained expression. “I’ve got a killer headache. Do you have some aspirin or something?”

Ash’s mom frowned. “Normally i wouldn’t give medicine to a child that wasn’t my own.”

Bay turned his ‘i feel like i’m dying’ face up a notch.

“You look so pitiful. I suppose it can’t hurt. There’s some tylenol in the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom down the hall. Do you want me to get you a glass for water?”

“No thank you, ma’am.”

“Alright. I hope you boys are enjoying your sleepover.” She giggled to herself and winked at him slightly. 

Bay knew what she was implying but he just turned away and rolled his eyes. Entering the bathroom he saw a long counter with two sinks, above which were two mirror fronted cupboards. Behind the door was a toilet and next to it was a shower/bathtub combo. Bay reached into one of the cupboards and found the bottle of Tylenol. It was almost empty, only containing twelve tablets. Twelve would probably do the trick. Bay got some water from the tap and swallowed them all, then threw the bottle in the trash and waited. 

(One tablet is 500 mg. The highest dose allowed is 4000 mg in 24 hours, meaning 8 tablets.)

The clock on the wall said he’d been in the bathroom for an hour. Nothing had happened. He didn’t feel any different. Maybe if there had been more of them… He got up from the floor where he’d been sitting and went to open the door, planning to go back to bed. Instead he was face to face with a very worried looking Ash.

“What were you doing up?”

“I had to pee.”

“Really?”

“Why else would i be in the bathroom?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

Bay was about to pretend to be offended when he noticed the unnaturally pale tinge to his friends face. 

“Are you ok?”

“Fine. Why?”

“You don’t look ok.”

“Ummm…” Before Ash could deny it, he was running to the toilet, holding his middle. He began vomiting, quite forcefully. Bay tried not to watch. The entire contents of Ash’s stomach were emptied into the porcelain bowl before he was able to sit back and pant.

“I guess all that McDonald’s didn’t settle so well,” Bay commented. 

“Shut up,” Ash gasped. 

At that moment, Ash’s mom appeared in the open doorway. “Oh my, Ash. You didn’t tell me you were feeling sick too.”

“Too?”

“Your friend here came to me with headache complaints a little bit ago and now here you are throwing up. I hope this isn’t a bug. You can’t afford to miss anymore days of school.”

Ash made an accusatory face at Bay before turning back to his mom. “I don’t think it’s a bug mom. My dinner just didn’t agree with me, that’s all. And Bay doesn’t drink enough water.”

“Will you be alright darling?” 

“We’ll be fine mom. Go back to your crafts.”

“Ok then.” She left the room, but still carried a worried expression. 

Ash turned to Bay as soon as she was gone. “What did you do?”

“What did i do? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ash was about to respond, but instead he hunched over and moaned. “Fuck, this hurts a lot.”

Silently, Bay regretted taking all of the tylenol. Ash could have used it now. Bay knelt down on the floor next to Ash. “Are you sure that this is from all that before? It seems a little intense compared to previously.”

“To be honest, i probably am sick.” Ash gritted his teeth as another cramp felt as though someone was stabbing him in the gut. “I just don’t want to worry my mom. She already thinks i have ‘problems’.”

Bay maneuvered his hands into the position they had been in when they were in the car. Gently, he tried to massage the pain away. He could tell by the way Ash tensed and relaxed that it was helping a little but not much. 

He wished he was a better person and not such a terrible fuck up. If he didn’t hate himself so much, Ash would make a really nice friend. But if he couldn’t love himself, how could he love someone else. 

Ash leaned back against Bay, whose arms were wrapped around him. “I’m tired.”

Ash’s hoodie smelled really nice. And he was soft. And suddenly Bay had a very strong urge to cuddle him. He lay his head on Bay’s shoulder and muttered a non-committal “mmmm”.

Ash woke up to the light streaming through his blinds and a searing pain in his abdomen. Also he was on his bed and Bay was spooning him, which was rather nice and he would have enjoyed it except for the part where he wanted to cry because of the pain. He curled in on himself, trying not to wake Bay up but ending up doing so anyway. 

“Hey,” Bay whispered. 

Ash just grunted. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he opened his mouth but he knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Are you ok?” Ash shook his head.

“Is it worse?” He nodded. 

“I’m gonna go get your mom,” Bay said worriedly. Ash tried to protest but Bay was insistent. “If it’s something serious, like an appendix, then we need to get you looked at right away. It’s better to be worried for a good reason than to not worry about true danger.”

Bay got Ash’s mom, who was making waffles in the kitchen, and told her the situation. While extremely flustered, she did know what to do. She went out and started the car, while Bay helped Ash get out to it. The pain was so bad, he could barely stand up. 

Bay was the only one who noticed the stove was still on so he quickly flipped the switch before they left. The lingering smell of burnt batter in the air twisted his stomach and he started to feel nauseous. 

When they reached the ER, doctors immediately took him into a room and gave him a once over. Appendix and poisoning were their main hypothesis. However when they did the examinations to see if either were true, everything checked out as perfectly normal. The doctors decided to put Ash on pain meds and keep him for observation. 

They moved him into a room in the regular hospital. Ash’s mom filled out paperwork  at a small table in the corner and Bay alternated between admiring Ash’s face and concentrating on not throwing up. Based on the fact that Ash’s mom hadn’t even considered sending him home or breakfast for either of them, he could tell she was really stressed and he didn’t want to make things any worse for her. 

Ash was watching Bay. now with the pain meds coursing through his veins, he could think clearly again and he was trying to remember what exactly had happened the night before. He knew that they had cuddled and Bay had tried to comfort him but what was before that. His nausea had woken him up and then he’d noticed Bay wasn’t there, which made him very panicky. So he got up to find him, checking first in the bathroom because it was the most logical place. He did find him but then he got sick and that was that. There was something beforehand though, something else. A bottle in the garbage he remembered. But a bottle to what?

At that moment, Bay threw up. He had tried so hard but he couldn’t keep it down any longer. The thin stream of vomit pooled around his shoes. Ash’s mom looked up, surprised. Ash narrowed his eyes. It was the bottle of pain meds!

He knew that Bay was depressed but he didn’t think he would overdose in someone else’s house. Ash pressed the call nurse button on his bed as Bay continued to retch, although his stomach had been nearly empty to begin with. 

When the nurse arrived, she wasn’t sure where to look. “Call poison control,” Ash told her. “It’s an overdose.”

“What??!” Ash’s mom was very confused. 

“What did you tell him to take for the headache?”

“Tylenol but-”

Ash turned to the nurse. “That’s what he overdosed with. It would have been a little before ten last night.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” the nurse asked as she lifted Bay onto a gurney and prepared him for transport.

“He probably took it on an empty stomach and he’s only had water for like, a while, several hours. Please don’t let him die.”

“We’ll do our best honey.” the nurse rushed away, leaving Ash’s mom in stunned silence. 

“Fuck. this was my fault. I shouldn’t have let him out of my sight. I knew something like this might happen.”

Though ash’s mom wasn’t exacctly sure what had just happened, she knew she had to comfort her son. “If someone wants to do something like that, they will. You can’t stop them once they put their mind to it and it’s nobodies fault but their own, so don’t blame yourself. Didn’t you only meet him yesterday?”

“No, i’ve met him before that. And i think i’ve known him my whole life.”

“Really? How could you know him that long? I’ve never met him before.”

“I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Oh.”

Afterward

Ash was right. Bay was his soulmate. The symptoms had appeared in Ash first because:A it would save Bay and B the effects of a tylenol overdose can take up to 24 hours to appear but because they were soulmates, it happened differently. 

One

Max spoke animatedly to his friends. “My parents will be here any minute! They’re taking me to Chicago. It’s gonna be great.” He leaned back in his desk, knowing his friends were a little jealous of his spring break plans. 

“Wish I could come,” Carlos said, sounding slightly upset. 

“Not me,” said Saul. “Long plane rides are a bore.”

“Your loss,” Max replied. He bent over his paper and continued his work. A few minutes later he tapped Saul, who sat in front of him. They had been friends since they were kids and their parents were friends with each other as well.

“My stomach hurts,” he whispered. He was breathing shallowly.

Saul turned around. There wasn’t any pain or worry in Max’s voice but the glassy look in his eyes made Saul wonder if this could be more than a case of not enough lunch, which was the usual cause for concern. 

“Do you wanna see the nurse?”

“No.” Saul noticed that Max was careful to stay perfectly still as he spoke, using only his mouth. “I’ll be fine. My family will be here soon.”

Saul nodded and turned back around, hoping that his friend would still be able to enjoy his vacation.

The teacher was ordering pizza for the whole class. As Saul asked for some pepperoni topping, a pass runner came in. “Max’s parents are here.”

“Thanks.” Max stood up to grab his things and leave. Saul couldn’t help but notice that Max was paler than his usual milky complexion, which was hard for anyone to do. He waved goodbye quietly, wondering if this would be the last he heard of the stomach ache. 

Saul went to use the restroom. The pizzas had been ordered but it would take several minutes for them to get to the school. As he was washing his hands, he felt a pain in his stomach. He shifted, wondering if it was just from hunching over his desk for his too long but it didn’t go away. Oh well, he thought. I’m probably just hungry. He put it out of his mind and went back to the classroom.

A few minutes later, the pizza arrived and everybody dug in. 

Two 

Carlos stuffed his face with pizza. It had been quite a while since he’d had this for a meal, the staple food for every teenager. He happened to have a bottle of pop he’d brought with him from home, a two liter, and he used it to wash everything down. Carlos had payed for half a pizza but Saul didn’t finish his order so Carlos’s belly ended up having almost a whole large pizza and two liters of pop in it. He knew the meat, cheese, bread, and fizz would take a while to settle but he was sure he’d be able to handle it. He’d eaten much more than this before. 

However, there was one aspect Carlos had forgotten. All the previous times he’d filled himself to bursting, he’d been at home, with a bed and couch to recline on, tummy soothers if he couldn’t handle it, and a toilet to throw up in if that became necessary at any time. He was at school, stuck sitting upright in his desk for the next four hours. That’s not really the best position to be in with an over full stomach and neither is tight skinny jeans. Carlos groaned inwardly but there was nothing he could do about it now. Big boys have to take responsibility for their own actions.

Saul had gotten his order, half a pepperoni pizza and a can of purple crush. He ate one slice and half another before pushing it away. His stomach still hurt. In fact, it may have gotten worse with the food in it. He swallowed some pop. For a minute there seemed to be no effect. Then Saul doubled over grimacing, his stomach cramping painfully. What was wrong with him? He let out a few loud burps, gaining him an odd look or two. That improved his pain levels. They sank back down to bearable. About three or four on the chart if you can’t picture it. 

Carlos leaned over. “Are you feeling ok?” 

“Yea. I’m just gassy today.” Saul managed a weak smile. 

“Gross.” Carlos laughed. “So, can I have that?” He gestured to Saul’s leftover pizza.

“Sure. I’m not gonna eat it.”

“Thanks bro.” Carlos returned to his own seat with the pizza and continued to gorge himself. 

Three 

Max had never gotten carsick in his life. He loved the super high roller coaster that scared everyone and the ones that spun faster than was really safe. Even on boats his stomach was relatively calm. So why was this bus ride making him feel so miserable?

His stomach was cramping harder and harder. He wondered if this was the kind of pain girls felt on their periods. Every time the bus hit a bump or turned sharply he had to swallow hard to keep from being sick. Max wasn’t sure what was worse: the pain, the nausea, or the fact he’d be dealing with it for a five hour plane flight after he got off this horrid bus. 

Max’s family didn’t live very close to an airport so they’d left their car at a designated location and were taking a bus. At the airport they’d have a bit of a wait while they had their luggage checked and go through customs. They could sleep on the plane and wake up in time to check into a hotel and go out for a nice dinner. Then his parents would probably go do something romantic. Max’s sister Lily wanted to go shopping and Max had a few concerts he wanted to go to. He’d been looking forward to this trip for quite a while, though he hadn’t made it a thing with his parents.

Max looked out the window, hoping the view would take his mind off the way he felt. It didn’t. Instead he wasn’t prepared for the next pothole in the road, which sent him flying forward into the back of his Lily’s seat. He groaned and she turned around, an annoyed expression on her face. “What was that for?” She asked angrily.

Max didn’t say anything. He felt so awful that missing the trip might be worth it if it would improve his physical state. He lay down on his seat and curled up in a ball, trying his best to keep everything inside him from coming out. His stomach wasn’t very happy with his choice, protesting loudly enough that other passengers noticed. Max whimpered. Why wouldn’t this just all go away?

Lily’s expression softened. He looked really sick and she felt bad for him. He’d been looking forward to this trip for weeks. She gently tapped his shoulder. “Hey buddy, do you wanna go home?” Max stared up at her, his glassy eyes and feverish skin answering for her.

When they reached the airport, Max dashed for the bathroom. His parents didn’t notice, as they were busy dealing with a ticket lady. Lily did though, and she followed, but slowly as she knew what was coming. 

Max collapsed in front of a toilet and began heaving as soon as his knees hit the tile. For someone who rarely ate before three pm, quite a lot of vomit was produced. He was thoroughly ill, so much so that his retching continued long after the contents of his stomach sat in the porcelain bowl. Max had thought that throwing up might make him feel better, but it just made everything worse. It felt as though someone had stuck a knife into his middle and was twisting it mercilessly. He lay back on the floor and dissolved into tears.

At this point, Lily entered. “Oh Max,” she sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

She knelt down and tried to comfort him as best she could. Rubbing his tortured abdomen seemed to afford him some relief. At one of the airport stalls, she purchased some medicines that she hoped would yield results.

“I need you to swallow this,” she said gently, as she propped him up on a bench. She handed him a water bottle, “Drink slowly,” and a handful of pills which he dutifully consumed. “Now try to keep it down.” Max nodded and lay his head on her shoulder. He would love to sleep right now. Anything to make the pain disappear. 

Lily texted her parents. “Max isn’t feeling well. I don’t think he’ll last very long on the plane. Can I take him home?”

Her parents replied that, while they thought Max should stay here, she had so many things she wanted to do that she shouldn’t be forced to stay home with her brother. They suggested getting a babysitter. 

Lily texted the family that she knew would take care of her brother. “So, you’ll be spending the next few days with Saul’s family,” she told her brother. “I hope you don’t mind but I’m sure they’ll take wonderful care of you.”

Max had almost fallen asleep. The drugs Lily gave him were very effective in dealing with his pain. He made a noncommittal noise and drooled on her shoulder. Even at sixteen, brothers can still be adorable, Lily thought.

Four 

Saul was still in school. An hour had passed since he’d eaten the pizza. His situation hadn’t changed all that much in the pain department. He could feel his belly pushing out and bloating, though for what reason he had no idea. He tried to hide the fact he felt unwell, especially from Elena, the girl he liked. Still, he thought he felt eyes on him. Looking around, he saw other people who looked ill as well. The teacher asked Carlos if he wanted to go see the nurse, he looked so sick.

Carlos was extremely uncomfortable. His swollen belly pressed tightly against the waistband of his jeans. He leaned back to release some of the pressure and his stomach gurgled audibly. No one was I hearing range, thankfully, but the noises continued constantly after that point and he was beginning to feel nauseous. He was startled out of his concentration on not throwing up with the teacher calling his name. She asked if he wanted to go see the nurse. She didn’t mention it directly but he was sure she knew the cause of his discomfort. He took her advice, though he didn’t head straight there.

Carlos made a stop in the men’s room. There was an unoccupied stall. There he unzipped his pants, letting his aching tummy expand to full capacity. Compared to his normal flat stomach, his belly stuck out almost four inches past his waistline. He tried rubbing it, hoping that would make his food Digest faster. While it temporarily soothed his feeling of overstuffed ness, he still felt quite ill. The pressure of his hands let him release some of the trapped gas, which gave him some small relief. After a bit, he did walk down to the nurses office, tugging his shirt down over his gut and hoping nobody looked at his crotch area. 

The nurses seemed to know what was wrong immediately without any explanation. They undressed him, though not completely, and laid him on a cot. Though he felt he would explode if he swallowed anything else, he Took the pills they said would improve his condition. He lay there for a while, his stomach constantly making rude and unpleasant noises. He could feel the food he’d eaten shifting and churning inside him, which was unsettling. 

Eventually they made him put his clothes back on and return to class. His stomach had ceased to make noises. However He still felt like he was in his second trimester of pregnancy. He put his hand on his belly and could feel the food baby kicking him repeatedly.

Saul considered going to the nurse. They might have something that could soothe his stomach. But when Carlos had returned after about thirty minutes, he didn’t look any better. Saul wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it. He was beginning to feel incredibly self conscious. He was glad he had worn a loose sweater today because his belly had bloated so much that it hung over the waistband of his pants. Generally, he was skinny enough that others were jealous. Now he felt like he might be getting fat. He didn’t want anyone else to think that or know that he thought that. He wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings however. He made a few self deprecating remarks, acquiring an angry stare from a girl who seemed familiar but whose name he could not remember. 

Saul began to feel very depressed. The nothingness engulfed him, blotting out the pain.

A few minutes before school got out, he received a text from his mom. “Max isn’t feeling well so he’ll be spending break with us. Feel free to invite other friends.” I guess that’s happening, Saul thought without emotion. “Hey Carlos, in the mood to hang out today?”

“Sure bro. I’ll be there.” 

Carlos and Saul nodded at each other, each discreetly trying to soothe their upset stomachs.

Five 

Carlos had some work to catch up on after school, so when Saul’s parents came to get him, he said he’d walk when he had finished. Saul didn’t mention how he was feeling to his dad. The advice he usually received from that parent was along the lines of “man up” and “don’t be such a pussy”. He did not want to deal with that right now. Currently, it was more his self-esteem that was suffering, not his physical body. though his stomach continued to ache he had gotten used to it. When he arrived at his house he found a sleepy Max propped up at the kitchen table. Saul’s mother was trying to get him to eat something.

“I don’t understand it. Usually you love my snacks.” Max pushed away the apple slices and celery. “I know you’re sick but I’m sure this will help you feel better.” Max shook his head and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. 

Saul’s mom turned around as she noticed her son and husband entering. “Saul, baby. You like apples, right. Eat something to show how much you love me?”

“Mom, you know I love you. I’m just not hungry now. Sorry.” He gave her a hug as she sighed in defeat, and then tugged on Max’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s go play Fortnight.” Max groggily stood up and followed.

They began to play the game on the couch In front of the tv in the basement, and Max gradually regained focus. At some points the game play would be heated as they got really into it. There were awkward quiet moments when their cramps made it hard to think. They each knew the other wasn’t top notch but they were trying to hide it anyway.

Max had felt pretty normal just as he woke up but the medicine was slowly wearing off and the pain ramping up. Eventually he paused the game. “I need a glass of water. Want anything?”

“No thanks.”

“Ok.” Max climbed up the stairs and went into the bathroom. He knew his stomach was completely empty and he was hesitant to put anything into it. He sat down on the toilet to decide what he should do and suddenly realized he wouldn’t be getting up for a while. Note to self, he thought. Next time you visit, bring scented candles as an apology gift. 

Saul waited for five minutes. And then ten minutes. And then fifteen minutes. How long did it take to get a drink? Even if you were as slow an eater as Max, it shouldn’t take this long. He could have brought it down here while they finished playing. 

Saul texted Max. “Dude, did you get attacked by a ninja on your way to the sink?”

“Nah bro. Just got side tracked.”

“With?”

“A post on my phone. Somebody sent me a pic. I’ll be finished soon… I think.”

Saul thought he understood now. Max thought that was a pretty smooth excuse.

Saul had been doing all right but now that Max was gone and he had less distractions, he could feel the pressure building in his belly. It was getting pretty intense. It was nice that his house had three bathrooms. There was one for each floor: basement, ground level, and second. 

Saul stepped in to do his business and found it was going to take much longer than he had previously thought. He hoped Carlos didn’t get here while he was occupied. He didn’t want to be a bad host, even if he wasn’t feeling well. His parents didn’t know and he would try to keep the others from knowing as well. 

He texted Max, “I think I found that pic. Bet I can last longer than you can.” Hopefully that would throw him off the scent. 

After twenty minutes of sitting there staring down at his phone and his lap, he could no longer ignore his Chubby looking gut. Anyone in his situation would feel disgusting just because of the shit purging going on inside them. But Saul couldn’t help but feel fat. And generally, he was the handsome one, the one other people looked up to, the leader. Now he was denigrated to this low state. He felt awful and sick and he wasn’t quite sure how it happened but he stuck his fingers down his throat and threw up in the trash. He did it again. And again. Until nothing could possibly be left inside. It actually eased the pain in his stomach but his belly was still emptying itself out the other end full force. His legs were numb and if he hadn’t be concentrating very hard on not crying, or not crying audibly, he would have been bored. 

Six 

Carlos rang the doorbell. Twice. Nobody answered so he just walked in. They were expecting him so it couldn’t be that rude, he thought. Nobody was upstairs in the kitchen, although a nice snack tray was spread out. Carlos hoped he wouldn’t be expected to eat anything. His belly churned harder as he thought about it. Going downstairs to the game area, he didn’t see the, either. He texted, “Yo, where ya dudes at?”

The responses he got were, “playing games” and “chillin”, which didn’t answer his question. But he was satisfied with that because what he really wanted to do was lay down, massage his belly, and take a nap, waking up to his flat middle again. He had nothing against the layer of pudge he occasionally gathered from cake but right now his big belly was getting in the way of him doing things. Like bending down to untie his shoes, for instance. It didn’t really hurt a lot, but when he bent over it sent cramps shooting around his middle. 

Carlos debated just crashing on the couch. He could, but Whenever the other boys actually came back, he didn’t want to be disturbed. He went back up the stairs, attempting to sneak up to Saul’s room on the second floor. Unfortunately he was caught by Saul’s mom. He was a very obedient kid and always did what adults asked, so he ended up getting finagled into sitting at the kitchen table for half an hour and eating almost all of the snack plate, which didn’t agree with him at all. 

He managed to get away with an excuse about starting on his homework early. Getting up this set of stairs was a challenge. He was out of breath and nauseous when he reached the top. Three apples, half a jar of peanut butter, eighteen sticks of celery and 84 raisins had been added to his stomach contents on top of the nearly whole pizza and two liters of pop. Since lunch, the equivalent of two slices and a cup of pop had digested, leaving not much room to spare. Carlos wasn’t sure how he was going to manage dinner. He collapsed on Saul’s bed and went to sleep, praying he’d feel somewhat better when he woke up.

Max being more ill, he spent longer locked in the bathroom, but as Saul had entered twenty minutes later, they emerged about the same time, a half hour before dinner was traditionally served. Entering the game room, neither questioned the other’s long absence, but instead decided to go on a search for Carlos. They found him, gut fully exposed, snoring on Saul’s bed. Normally, they probably wouldn’t have woken him up, but seeing as they were both feeling drained and cranky and at least wanted a place on the bed to rest too, they shook him awake. 

“Hey sleepy head. How much did you stuff in that belly of yours?”

“Fuck off. It’s your mom’s fault.”

He moved over and made room for them, now leaning his head against the wall and massaging his gut. 

Max, who was actually sick and had a fever but wouldn’t admit it, took off his shirt. “It’s hot in here.”

He was a very thin person, with cheeks almost sunken in and sticklike wrists. His ribs were easily visibly and as he lay on the bed, anyone could see the concave space under his rib cage where his skinny abdomen rose and fell. If Carlos had been paying attention, he would have been concerned for his friend. This was a sign of extreme malnourishment. It wasn’t a healthy way to look at all. Saul, who also was sick with a milder version of what Max had, was sweating under his hoodie. However, he kept it on. He and Max were best friends so he knew that Max never ate until at least after three, sometimes six pm and was almost vegan and extremely picky. Max also went to the gym about three times a week on the insistence of his parents that he grow up to be strong. Since Saul was used to this it seemed normal for him and Max’s size had always been something he defended to others as perfectly healthy. He didn’t often see Max with his shirt off and usually it wouldn’t make any difference but with the mood he was in today it made him extremely jealous. He wanted that concave abdomen and stick wrists. No one could say he wasn’t handsome with those. Feeling depressed and strangely tearful, he lay back to rest as well.

Seven

Five minutes later Saul’s mother came upstairs to call them for dinner. “Hey Mom, can we just eat up here and watch tv?” Saul asked. 

“Sure honey. I know you all are growing boys so a made a pan of lasagna just for you. Eat it all up now. I know it’s your favorite.”

She left and the three boys stared at the steaming pan of lasagna sitting in the middle of the room. It was true, lasagna was their favorite. 

“I think I’m gonna pass tonight,” Max said finally. “My stomach’s not really feeling up to it.” For him this was fairly normal and they knew he wasn’t tip top so this was fine.

“I’m not really hungry,” Saul stated, hoping no one would question it. “Gotta keep up my girlish figure.” He laughed a little but no one else did so he trailed off.

The two skinny boys turned toward Carlos. “I suppose you expect me to eat your portions?” Carlos sighed. 

“We don’t wanna make her mad,” Saul pleaded.

“And we didn’t eat any of the snack she made for us earlier,” Max put in.

“I know,” Carlos complained. “It’s in here.”

Saul poked his friend’s gut. “You still have room in there, I can tell.”

Max snapped his fingers. “Treat it like one of those challenges you do. This can be your biggest one yet.”

They gave him puppy dog eyes. The lasagna smelled really good, it was one of his favorite foods, and he needed to keep Saul’s mom on his good side. He was already not feeling good, why not make himself miserable. “Fine.”

He picked up the lasagna and started shoveling it in. 

20 minutes later

Carlos lifted his face away from the pan, panting. “Are you sure you two don’t want any?” His eyes pleaded with them. He wasn’t sure how much more he’d be able to handle and didn’t want to make a mess at someone else’s house. There were only two servings left anyway. The least they could do was help him out a little.

Saul and Max looked at each other. after their bathroom visits, things seemed almost normal inside them. Other than feeling like they’d been put through a juicer they were relatively fine. However Max didn’t like lasagna with meat in it and Saul was very wary of swallowing anything at the moment. 

“Yes,” they nodded. 

Carlos groaned. He leaned back, trying to make room for the huge belly that was now filling his lap. He had abandoned all pretense of decorum and sat on the floor in his boxers. At first he had tried to use his shirt to cover up but that was a lost cause. Carlos pressed his hands into the side of his belly. There was almost no give. He really didn’t have much room left. 

Just then, Saul’s mom called up the stairs,”You boys almost finished? I’ll take the pan when you’re done.”

“Soon, Mom,” Saul replied.

Max turned to Carlos. “We don’t have much time. You’ve gotta hurry up.”

“I don’t know if I can eat anymore,” Carlos said, running a hand over the taught skin on his stomach. 

“Please?” Saul begged. “We’ll help you.”

“Help m-?” Carlos was cut off in the middle of his sentence as a bite was shoved into his mouth by Saul. “Hey!” He tried to say angrily, but more food just entered his speaking hole. He attempted trying to keep his mouth shut but Max plugged his nose and held him down while Saul force fed him till everything was gone. 

Eight 

Carlos sat up, gasping for air. “So not fair. Owwww!” He whined, then covered his mouth, blushing. 

“Awwww. Does somebody have a belly ache?” Max cooed.

Carlos thought about denying it but decided that would be too much work. Cramps like this weren’t something he’d experienced in a while. Then again, he hadn’t overdone it quite this much in a while either. 

“Fuck yes!” He moaned, and leaned into Max, who was still sitting behind him.

“I bet we can help with that too,” Saul said mischievously. 

“Oh no, not more helping.” Carlos attempted to scramble away from the boys but he was too full to move, so he resigned himself to a terrible fate. 

Instead, he felt soft hands gently caressing the globe of his belly. It felt good. Like, really really good.

“That’s amazing,” he breathed.

“Thanks. I had a good teacher.” Saul glanced at Max.

“Your mom always makes too much food.” Max winked, as he ran his fingers through Carlos’ hair. 

The motions of Saul’s hands on his skin brought Carlos almost orgasmic pleasure. He tried not to show it, embarrassed, but Max noticed. He leaned over Carlos and kissed Saul. Saul was a little surprised, but not enough to make him stop what he was doing. They continued making out while Carlos watched. He was really enjoying this, but if they weren’t careful, he was gonna jiz in his boxers. 

“I should take the pan down,” Carlos volunteered. Max and Saul were too busy to notice as Carlos pulled away from Saul’s fabulous hands. Going down the stairs was kind of hard and very uncomfortable and he should have remembered that he was in his underwear. Saul’s mom stared at him with a strange expression for a few seconds before taking the pan from him. “So, I take it you enjoyed my lasagna then.”

“Yes ma’am.” Carlos nodded, stifling a burp. 

“Am I right in thinking you might want something to help with a stomach ache now?” She asked, slightly amused.

Carlos nodded again, staring at the floor. How stupid was he? Making himself sick at someone else’s house? And what even was the orgy going on upstairs?

He shuffled down a hallway behind Saul’s mom, dutifully took the medicine, and went back upstairs. Peeking into the bedroom, he saw Max and Saul still at it, getting gradually more aggressive in their affection. While Carlos was aroused by what he saw, he thought it would be impolite to jack off to someone else doing the dirty if they didn’t know you were there, and he didn’t want to ruin the mood. 

Instead, he went back down stairs and told Saul’s mom he was going to sleep under the stars, as he felt more comfortable in the outdoors. That was a bullshit reason but he didn’t want her to worry about him being not in the house. Carlos went outside and around the back of the house to the garden area, where he dug a small hole and made himself sick. He knew it was just a bad idea all around to leave that much food inside his body. The hole wasn’t nearly big enough but he tried to cover it up with mulch and leaves. It could be nutrients for flowers, even if it wasn’t going to do him any good. 

Unfortunately, when the threw up, the medicine went too. Nothing remained in his stomach, but everything that had passed on wasn’t settling down nicely inside him. It felt more like a monster truck derby was going on inside his gut and it kept bloating and expanding, even though he didn’t eat anything else.

At that convenient time, the sky decided to start raining. Carlos dove under the trampoline, figuring it was as good a place as any. Somehow, between the pain and wetness (don’t forget self-loathing), Carlos was able to eventually fall asleep. 

 Nine 

In the bedroom, things were getting a little wild. Max was straddling Saul’s hips, passionately kissing him, and Saul was definitely reciprocating.

Neither of the boys were really surprised that this had happened. Being really close friends since they were kids, they had a very deep relationship already, both mentally and physically. Max often felt sick after eating at Saul’s house, mainly because he wasn’t used to eating a normal quantity of food in one sitting, and Saul learned how to make Max feel better. They’d even platonically kissed a few times, joking that it made things better. 

They’d never had a really crazy night before, though. This would be their first. Saul sucked on Max’s neck and collar bones, leaving bright hickeys. Max bit Saul’s lip, not drawing blood but adding more adrenaline to the mix. Being nearly naked anyway, and having shared locker rooms, getting rid of their boxers was not an obstacle. At first it was awkward, as neither knew what they were doing. Neither had prepared for this, not really  knowing that one should. Saul topped first, beginning slowly. Max was extremely tight, never having done this before. Low, sensual moaning came from the mouths of both. Saul almost came in Max’s ass, but pulled out at the last second, not sure if it was safe or not.  Then Max topped, a little more timid at first, not quite sure what to do with his dick. Once he figured it out, however, he went hard and fast, pounding Saul into the bed. This was a surprising turn of events as Max seemed more docile in regular situations. He came too and then they jacked off together, because they weren’t sure how to end it. 

Curling up on the bed, the faced away from each other, as if to say “That was great, but no homo, bro.” neither was really sure what had just happened.

ten 

In the morning, Saul’s mom called everyone for breakfast, albeit a late one. More like brunch if you want to be specific. Max and Saul got dressed and came down together, acting very awkward and shy, which was suspicious, since both were usually very outgoing. Saul’s mom was not deaf so she had heard what was going on upstairs and guessed why Carlos had slept outside. She put clothes on the porch when she called him so he would have something to wear. 

Carlos woke up very wet and covered with bug bites. His stomach no longer hurt, but it was still swollen, full feeling, and gurgly. Glad for the clothes, he came in, but declined to eat breakfast. He told Saul’s mom he would walk home, after they finished. He hoped the new shirt would be enough to hide his current state from his parents. 

*anorexia fic for jack frost in rise of the guardians*

Jack shivered under the pile of warm blankets, his bed pushed as close to the fireplace as it could be without catching on fire. Bunny lay next to him, trying to use his own body heat to warm him. “You know i’m supposed to be cold, right? I’m a winter spirit.” Even as he spoke, Jack’s teeth chattered. 

“We’ve gotta find a way to warm you up, Frostbite,” Bunny said. He was really worried. Jack had to be sick. The weather was being weird and no other guardian could control that. 

“Really, i’m fine.” Jack pushed the covers off himself and stood, swaying slightly. “I just need to be with the snow again. It will balance me out.” He floated out of the room before Bunny could stop him. 

On his way to the door, Jack passed the kitchen. The delicious smells coming out of it made him linger. A steaming cup of hot chocolate would probably do him wonders now if he was being honest. But he wasn’t being honest with anyone. Jack’s stomach rumbled hungrily, tempting him to steal a cookie. He was the guardian of fun. Wasn’t it his job to cause a little trouble? He was allowed if it was for work, wasn’t he? Jack replayed his mantra for life and his stomach clenched. It must have forgotten what food did to a person to ever want it again. He floated outside and lay down in a pile of snow, exhausted. 

If anyone had looked at Jack right now, they probably would have thought he was a normal kid, aside from the milk white hair. If they took a second glance they may have noticed the sharpness of his cheekbones and the way his skin looked like it would tear if you touched it. His fingers wrapped around his staff, so thin they looked like claws, were tinged with blue. By this point the stranger would have realized that it wasn’t normal for a teen to be sleeping in a snow bank with no shoes and brought him inside. As they shook him awake, his eyes would open. Though once fiercely blue, now they were faded and sunk into his face. A face that never seemed to smile. So much for the guardian of fun. 

Jack woke up to the tapping of Tooth on his shoulder. “Jack,” she twittered frantically. “You need to come back inside.”

“No.” He turned away petulantly, Then noticed he was no longer in his snowbank. Had they moved him already while he slept? No. he was still outside with sky and trees and water dripping off the trees onto the puddle of slush around him.

“Jack, the North Pole is thawing!”

‘Fuck,’ he thought. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jack didn’t want to go back inside. But he was supposed to make things colder, not heat them up. He flew away from Tooth and tapped a tree branch, trying to make the water dripping from it form into and icicle. A few ice crystals dropped from the end of the branch before resuming their water state, and possibly dripping faster. Jack felt slightly dizzy and he lowered himself closer to the ground. Maybe something was wrong with him. “Tooth,” he called. “Take me to North.”

Tooth grabbed his hand and flew rapidly to the globe room, calling all the other guardians to come as well. Jack let her pull him along through the air. He was still tired even after just sleeping. The guardians assembled, standing in a circle around Jack and Tooth. 

Jack was about to say something when North rumbled, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop that shaking. It’s distracting.”

Jack put his hand out in front of him. It was shaking. And god, he felt so cold. Cold didn’t usually bother him but now it felt like his feet were made of ice and he didn’t know if he could bend his fingers. Tooth pulled away from him, the hand he had held slowly regaining its normal color after becoming blue with cold. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” Jack said. 

“Duh,” Sandy spelled out.

“No, like, am i sick or something?” He turned to North. “Your an older guardian. Do you know what this is?”

“No. i’m sorry, Jack, but i do not.”

“But… you know everything.”

“Well, i know that your powers have grown very weak. I know that the snow is melting not only here but everywhere in a large radius from here and it keeps growing. I know that this has never happened to a guardian before. But i do not know how to fix it. My first recommendation, however, is always this.” North pulled a flask out of his shirt. 

“Alcohol?” Tooth asked. “But he’s so young.”

“He’s nearly a thousand years old. He hand handle it.” North held the bottle to Jack’s lips and tipped it up, not giving Jack a chance to speak. Jack coughed and sputtered. The whiskey burned as it went down his throat and into is stomach, filling him with warmth. He did feel better but only for a moment. Then he sank to the floor, arms wrapped around his middle. His face screwed up into and unpleasant expression and he moaned, then parted his lips to release a thin stream of watery, rust colored sick. 

Coughing a little he said, “I don’t think that helped.”

If the guardians hadn’t been worried before, they were sure freaked out now. Jack was definitely sick and it wasn’t your average cold and flu virus he sometimes contracted from kids. That usually had the opposite effect on the weather.

Bunny noticed something. As he helped Jack into an armchair and tried to make him comfortable, he asked, “When’s the last time you ate something, kid?”

‘Fuck,’ Jack thought again. If he told them the truth, they’d be really mad at him. Like really, really mad. “Umm, i had breakfast this morning,” Jack lied. 

“This is a little gross but that vomit does not agree with your statement.” It was true. There would have been a much larger quantity and chunkier if his stomach had been even half full. 

“Breakfast didn’t settle well,” Jack lied again, shrugging. 

“How many times have you thrown up today?” Tooth asked gently.

“Counting now? Three.” Jack hoped that lie would be enough to pass inspection.

“And you didn’t bother to tell us this?” North asked angrily.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Jack looked down, trying to appear innocent. That line was true at least. He hadn’t been feeling great for… He couldn’t remember how long but he didn’t want to stress the other guardians out. They had enough to deal with on their own without him complaining about every ache, pain, or dizzy spell that came along.

Bunny poked him. “I said, do you have any other symptoms? Temporary loss of hearing might be on the list.”

The conversation had moved on when he wasn’t paying attention. “Besides an upset stomach? No.” 

“You left out being excessively cold, moody, and losing control of your weather powers,” Tooth added helpfully. 

“And that i guess. Just assumed everybody had heard about all of those,” Jack shrugged. His stomach seemed to be calming down now. It no longer felt like it was trying to jump out of his throat. But as he stretched, he could tell the pain would prevent him from standing up straight, which would be super obvious. “If you guys don’t mind, i’m gonna chill here while you go look for a cure of some sort.”

“Smart idea,” North agreed. “You need rest to gather your strength and fight off whatever bug is beating you. Tooth, stay with him.” Tooth sat down on the chair next to Jack, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Tooth suggested if he ate something good for teeth, it would be good for his stomach too. Jack really didn’t want to eat anything right now, or ever, but maybe if he humoured her, they wouldn’t try to make him eat anything later. “Celery, right?” that was a calorie burning food so it would do the least damage.

“Nope.” Tooth shook her head, disappointed in him. “You have to do extra flossing afterwards. How about an apple? Nature’s toothbrush.” maybe. But fruit had sugar in it and sugar was a no-no. So were vitamins and calories of any kind. 

Jack dutifully took the apple she handed him, shiny, red, juicy, crisp. It looked delicious he wished he could savor every bite. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into the fruit, splitting open the perfect skin to reveal the pale flesh inside. For a moment, the sweet juice trickling down his throat nearly convinced his stomach to allow his hunger to be sated for once. But then his mouth felt the smooth, the crunchy as he chewed the pulp. He had to force himself to swallow and almost gagged as it fell into his stomach. To humour Tooth, he held it back until he was down to the care. Hopefully that he ate anything at all would make her happy. Then he let go. Leaning over so the vomit wouldn’t get on the armchair, Jack heaved, sending chunks of hardly digested apple plunging onto the hardwood. He curled in on himself, hating the pain that came with the release, but loving the relief that flooded him, the adrenaline that assure him he was fine. 

Tooth left to go get cleaning supplies, very upset, and came back with the other guardians. Sandy suggested that something fizzy might calm Jack’s stomach down. The plan was unsuccessful, only causing a long stream of embarrassing burps, followed by a painful bout of hiccups that brought tears trickling down Jack’s cheeks and ended with him spewing everything on the floor and collapsing with black circles dancing in front of his eyes. He was disoriented then, not making coherent sense of anything. The guardians were very afraid by this point. They tucked him up in his original room, then all sat in the one adjacent, doing panicked research as quietly as they could. 

“Keep him hydrate,” North yell-whispered. He wasn’t very good at being quiet, as he was hard of hearing. “He’s losing a lot of liquid.”

“Very true,” Tooth chimed in.

“There’s a human remedy for stomach aches,” Bunny put in a while later. “But we don’t seem to have any here. I’ll pop out and get some.” as he said this, the guardians hear coughing from the other room.

“I’ll go check on him,” Tooth said, and fluttered away. 

“You awake?” she asked quietly. Jack nodded, then pointed to a glass of water next to him on a bedside table.

“Please,” he whispered, through dry, cracked lips. Excess puking plus the dry cold weather of the North Pole would inevitably lead to chapped lips. Tooth held the cup to his mouth and he drank greedily. Water was the one thing he could have, in moderation, without his stomach churning and trying to escape his body. Tooth propped him up on some pillows but he continued to let her hold the glass, not wanting her to see that his hands were shaking so much it would have spilled. 

For a day, while Bunnywas gone, North and Tooth took turns making sure he drank a glass of water every two hours except when he was sleeping, which was a lot of the time. Then Bunny returned. In his paws was a six pack of drug store medicine bottles, the kind that come with a cup on top to get the right dows. The bottles were opaque and dyed a fluorescent green colour that could probably have glowed in the dark.

Jack was wary of any medicine and flat out refused to take it at first but Bunny looked so tired and worn out from getting it (Jack noticed he had acquired another nick in his ear) that he was guilted into taking a dose. He prepared for the worst, a spot on the carpet that would never goa away and always glow to remind himself of the moment, but the medicine did actually settle his stomach. It left his mouth feeling chalky but tasted like minty milk. There were no protests from his abdomen, neither audible, nor painful. Even trying to convince himself that he needed to get rid of it wouldn’t work. This medicine was legit.

He spend another day on a liquid diet but they made him pick something other than water to drink. He picked tea and carefully forgot to mention that most people add sugar, or honey and lemon. Flavored water was pretty much the same as water, as far as his stomach was concerned. 

However, the guardians were taking no more of his shit. The next day they had him drink juice and gatorade in the morning, with toast and broth for lunch. He had to keep them down, as the medicine was working. They assumed that because of this seeming healthiness, he’d be able to eat a larger meal. 

Jack woke up from his nap to an amazing smell wafting towards hi from under a covered plate. Tooth placed it on his lap and removed the lid. “We made you something special since you’re doing so well.” She smiled. On the plate were equal amounts of steamed broccoli and baked chicken, with a blueberry muffin on the side. As a drink, Jack had a large glass of milk and for dessert, pumpkin pie. 

Jack stared at all the food in front of him with disgust. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten one cup of anything, much less all of this. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to manage it. 

The guardians stared at him expectantly. To an average human, this might seem like just a regular dinner, but the guardians almost never did their own cooking, leaving it to the yetis, elves, baby tooth fairies, and troublesome easter eggs. For them to put this much effort into something showed how much they cared. 

Jack apprehensively took a tiny bite of the broccoli. He waited for his stomach to clench, churn, cramp, and reject it but nothing happened. They had been steadily dosing him with the minty stuff and it seemed to have numbed any rational instincts his body had. After the toast and the gatorade, he wouldn’t have put anything into himself for at least two days, but now he didn’t have a choice. Jack finished everything set in front of him. Each swallow was like torture. He could feel his belly bloating under his hoodie and resisted the urge to touch it. His stomach did cramp, though not till he was onto dessert it cold apparently handle only so much food, even though it could now handle some. The milk was the hardest part, so thick and heavy that Jack was afraid it would get caught in his throat. Maybe he had been lactose intolerant as a human. He wasn't sure. His family didn’t have enough money to feed their children every day so when they did eat, it wasn’t fancy.

 His belly gurgled audibly and North ran for a bucket. Jack forced everything to stay down, long enough to convince the guardians he was fine. Later, they all left, except for Bunny, who was supposed to watch him to see if dinner came up later. 

“Mind if i take a shower?” Jack asked. “I haven’t had one in a while.”

“Go ahead, mate.” Bunny started to juggle his boomerangs. Jack went into the bathroom and locked the door. He turned on the shower, then knelt in front of the porcelain throne. This was his chance. He could get everything out now. He concentrated hard and a little milk came up, still cold, but nothing else. Jack sighed. He would have to resort to old fashioned methods. There hadn’t been need for them in a while but he was just glad he hadn’t forgotten how. Carefully, he stuck his fingers down his throat, just far enough to get it started. Once he was going, he didn’t stop till he was empty. The familiar ritual was comforting in a way. Jack flushed, rinsed his mouth and undressed, then entered the shower. 

A half hour later, Bunny knocked on the door. “Mate, you forgot your towel.” there was no reply. Bunny knocked harder. “Mate!” still no answer. Bunny broke down the door, sure that something was wrong. The shower was still on but jack was sprawled across the tiles, blood pooling around his head. Bunny called for help and the other guardians came running. Bandaging the wound on his head was simple but no one saw the blood on his lips. North thought he might have a concussion. Jack didn’t wake up so they each took turns watching him through the night. 

As bunny slept, he relived the scene, this time seeing more than he had before. Jack had been facing towards the door, his arms positioned as if he knew he was going to fall but wasn’t strong enough to catch himself. His ribs were very visible, enough that bunny could have played them like an instrument if he was so incline. His arms and legs were thin as sticks, hip bones jutting out and bruised from the many times he’d ‘clumsily’ walked into something. His abdomen was extremely concave, almost like bunny could see his spine through it and it seemed like there was a deep depression just below the center of his rib cage. When bunny had picked him up, his spine had dug into bunny’s arm like a knife. Tooth had clasped jack’s arm and her tiny hands circled his wrist. They could probably do the same to his ankle as well, bunny imagined.

 In the moment, none of the guardians had payed much attention to any part of jack that wasn’t injured. Now, bunny wanted to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. They had dressed jack in his regular clothes for decency’s sake. Bunny pulled himself out of bed and noticed Tooth was on watch. Perfect. “Hey, can you do something for me?”  He had her repeat the action he had seen in his dream and his face fell when it had the same results. North, who did have some real medical training and just wasn’t always inclined to use it hooked jack up to an iv to keep him hydrated. They made sure to add extra nutrients to the serum, as they weren’t sure what he would hold down when he woke up. 

Jack did wake up and he woke up not happy about the tube in his hand. “Well mate, pull up your shirt and we’ll tell you what we’re not happy about.” jack, confused, obliged. Purple bruises were starting to bloom across his back and side, making him grimace whenever he sifte position. That didn’t seem to be what the guardians were referring to. So then what else could be wrong? He was almost too perfect. 

The guardians stared at him. He stared back, not understanding. “You can’t honestly think that that’s normal,” North finally said.

“Hush,” Tooth scolded him. She now had her suspicions of what was wrong with him and knew more about it than any of the others, having collected teeth that had shrunk from excessive exposure to gastric acid. It broke her heart that this could happen at such a you age. 

“I’m fine, except for these bruises,” Jack said, lowering his shirt.

“Fine? You’re fine? So passing out in the shower is fine, throwing up everything you eat is fine, being so skinny the wind could blow you away, you call that fine?” bunny was furious. He cared about jack. How could jack do this to himself and to the rest of them? Couldn’t he see he was hurting himself? 

Jack knew that not everyone lost weight this way. Some people exercised,, others dieted. That’s what he was doing, being healthy. Or not. He knew in the back of his mind that what he was doing wasn’t right, but its not like they could stop him. What were they going to do, chine him up and force feed him? They were too nice, even if they could be rough sometimes.

He wasn’t that far off. The guardians left jack alone (its not like he had anything to do now) and went into another room to discuss things. Tooth explained the concept of eating disorders to the others, who immediately felt guilty for contributing to them. She explained that it wasn’t really about the candy being provided. 

Alec glared at Ian. “Really?”

Ian looked up innocently. “What?” he asked around a mouthful of dark chocolate brownie.

“You, that's what. You eating the couch.”

“But dude your couch is the best. It's so spongy and thick and sweet and sticky. And it doesn't crumble hardly at all. And….. fuck it's soooo good. Mmmmmmmm.” He tipped his head back and moaned with pleasure.

Alec looked slightly disgusted. “I know. I bought it. FOR ME!”

Ian was blissfully unresponsive.

Alec rolled his eyes, sighed, and walked back into his kitchen. This display was kind of gross but it was making him hungry. Maybe he would have a salad.

…..

Alec walked down the hallway to his bedroom. He was bored. Maybe there was something on tv. As he opened the door, he heard a strange sound. He tiptoed back into the living room. A floorboard creaked. Ian froze, then slowly put the wreath he had been munching back up on the wall. There were bite marks in the spun sugar and fondant foliage. 

“Ian,” Alec said quietly.

“Yea?” Ian answered. He turned around looking sheepish. 

“STOP EATING THE DECOR!!!!”

“I'm sorry,” Ian said, “Ur house is just so much tastier than mine.”

Alec looked Ian up and down. It was hard to stay mad at such a cute little creature. He noticed a little tummy forming under his t shirt.

“It's ok.” He Said, giving Ian a peck on the nose. “I don't think you did too much damage. But you still need a punishment.” 

Ian looked worried. “What kind of punishment?”

Well, Alec said smiling craftily “let me just see what I have in my attic.”

………

Ian lounged on the couch, nibbling on the corners of the marshmallow cushions. He was still hungry, his belly impatient for the next course. 

Alec climbed down the peanut brittle stairs carrying a bundle wrapped in fruit leather and tied with licorice whips. 

“I’ve got a few things i won’t be needing anymore. I thought you might enjoy them.” Alec said, grinning. 

Ian licked his lips, his mouth watering. What delicious treats were waiting for him? 

Alec reached into the bundle and pulled out two embroidery cloths, the size of a medium picture frame. One had needle point and the other cross stitch. 

Ian bit into the first with a crunch. It was white chocolate, with a hint of aged flavor and a sprinkling of powdered sugar dust. The embroidery on it was frosting, fruity and sweet. He devoured it quickly and started on the second. This one was a little dirty with oreo bits mixed in. even better than the first, he thought, and closed his eyes, enjoying the flavor. 

When he was ready for more, Ian put his hands out. Alec reached into the bag again. This time it was toothpaste, an invention of the ancient past, but still delicious in it’s own way. 

There were several tubes, pink, peach, green, yellow, blue, purple. Almost a whole rainbow. 

Ian looked slightly confused. He’d never eaten anything like that before. But he was always open to new experiences. He opened his mouth. 

Alec unscrewed the cap of the green tube and began squirting it into Ian’s mouth. It was thick and pasty but not bad. This first tube tasted like mint. It wasn’t very sweet and it burned just the tiniest bit. It was a good pain. Ian attempted to swallow. It took him a few tries. The stuff was so viscous that it stuck to his mouth like bread. Eventually he managed it.

After the first tube, he fed himself, sucking and squeezing at the same time. Blue tasted like cotton candy and purple was a very strong grape. By now his tongue had turned an interesting shade of maroon and his mouth was very dry. Toothpaste apparently made you thirsty. He wondered how people ate it in the old days. 

“Can i have a drink please?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

“You know what i mean.”

“Say it right.”

“May i have a drink please?”

“Yes you may.”

“You should be happy i said please.”

“You should be happy i’m only going to make you drink two liters.”

“What?”

Alec opened the fridge and took out a bottle of pink lemonade. “Chug,” he commanded. 

Ian obeyed. He unscrewed the lid and put the bottle to his lips. Immediately an explosion of flavor entered his mouth. It was at once overly sweet and overly tart. 

“Alec, i don’t think i like this. It doesn’t taste right”. 

Ian had a grim expression. “This is a punishment. You’re not supposed to like it. Now drink.” 

 Ian  raised the bottle again and chugged, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.  Alec  watched the pink liquid pour into  Ian ’s mouth. He could see his friend’s belly expanding as he drank. It was pushing out against his t-shirt.  Alec  felt something twitch in his pants. 

Halfway through,  Ian  set down the bottle with a pained expression on his face. He pressed a hand to his belly and let out a few short, sharp burps. “It hurts,” he mumbled.  Alec  took pity on him and rubbed his belly for a minute or so until most of the air had been expelled. Then he handed  Ian  the tube of yellow toothpaste. 

“More?”  Ian  asked. 

“More”  Alec  said. 

Yellow tasted like lemon. Peach tasted like orange. Pink tasted like rose petal syrup.  Ian  didn’t like rose petal syrup so he washed it down with the rest of the lemonade. By now his belly was noticeably protruding from his middle, stretching his t-shirt taught. 

Ian was full now but he knew that Alec wasn’t going to stop until everything he’d brought Ian was gone. 

“How much *burp* left?” He asked.

 Alec  started tearing the fruit leather covering into strips. 

“I hafta eat that?”

“You need something healthy in your diet, don’t you? You’re not going to want to be stuck on this couch for the rest of your life.” 

“True.”  Ian  nodded and reached for a strip. 

“No.”  Alec  batted his hand away. “I’m going to feed you.”

He placed the end of one of the strips of fruit leather in  Ian’s mouth. “Suck.”

 Ian  sucked. Suck, chew. Suck, chew. Suck, chew. 17 strips. That was a lot of fruit leather. And then the licorice strings. Same type of routine. By now  Ian’s stomach was very full. It was actually starting to hurt. There was a lot of food in there. But the sugar was giving him a high so he didn’t mind too much.  

“Is that all?” He asked. 

“Of course not. You can’t stop without having dessert.”

Ignoring the fact that his whole meal had been dessert, he was actually quite eager to see what ‘dessert’ was.  Alec  went into the kitchen and  Ian  pulled up his shirt. It was putting pressure on his belly and he wanted to finish whatever he had left. This had become sort of a challenge to him. His stomach still hurt so he undid the button on his pants, which made it feel alot better. 

 Alec  came back in carrying a tray but he almost dropped it when he saw  Ian’s belly sitting out in the open and  Ian  rubbing it. This was definitely exciting to the snake in his pants. 

 Ian  looked up to see a flustered  Alec  holding a tray with a whole cake on it. That was not what he had been expecting but it looked so good that he couldn’t wait to take a bite. There were also a few glasses of milk to wash down the cake. 

 Ian  blushed when he realized  Alec  was looking at his belly. “I’m being kind of a pig, aren’t i,” he mumbled. 

 Ian  thought he heard  Alec  whisper “beautiful,” under his breath but when he looked up and opened his mouth to say something, a forkful of german chocolate cake was shoved in and he couldn’t think about anything else until he had finished that slice. He washed it down with the milk but it was so rich that he was still thirsty. He knew he had to ration the milk, though. Now that he was looking, the cake was actually four fourths of four different kinds of cake. He’d already finished the german chocolate but there were still three to go. The new york cheese cake slid down easily but now his belly was starting to protest audibly, gurgling and sloshing when he would lean forward to take another bite. It was cramping too. Sometimes he had to take a break to let it settle down. In the heat of things, he’d forgotten that dairy didn’t always agree with him. 

It was too late now, though, and the cake looked sooo good. The next piece was angel food cake with lavender icing, so light and fluffy, but even that sat heavy in his stomach. 

“Last one,”  Alec  said,encouraging him. “Baby, you’re doing so well.”  Ian  noticed the pet name but decided to ignore it for the time being. He had a wet, spongy, spice cake with apple pie filling in the middle. He made it halfway through before he started to feel nauseous. Bites came slower and slower until he had to rub his belly with both hands to make it bearable, arching his back to get some relief.  Alec  fed him the last few bites, then wrapped his hands around a leftover glass of milk. I’ll rub your belly, you finish he said. He moved his hands over the soft globe of Ian’s swollen stomach, a red line down the middle where it was stretching the skin, sticky with sugar and sweat. Alec couldn’t help himself. He licked the red line, sweet and salty. Ian stopped mid-swallow, nearly choking. Alec stepped back, looking penitent. “Sorry, i won’t do it again.”

“No, it’s ok. I-i liked it.”

Ian finished the milk with a few gulp and leaned back with a sigh, watching his stomach continue to expand. The milk was creating a little more gas and it hurt. Alec rubbed his belly, somehow managing to find the perfect spots as it cramped and gurgled uncomfortably. He kissed a few times too, when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. 

Ian’s face was red and there was an excited snake in his pants too.

And then he hiccuped. 

“Uh-oh,” said the look on both their faces. 

*Hic* *hic* *hic.* 

The spasmic movements jostled his swollen belly around

*Hic* *hic* *hic*

Ian’s face began to turn green. The nausea was back.

“I don’t *hic* feel so good,” he said, gripping his belly with both hands, willing it to stay still and not expel its contents onto his friend. 

“Hold your breath,” alec suggested.

Ian tried but that only made his stomach hurt worse. 

“I have another idea, but it might not work.”

“What is it?”

“Well, sometimes surprising a person will make their hiccups go away.”

“How are you gonna surprise me?”

“Like this.”

Alec leaned in, over Ian’s bulbous belly, and kissed him. He tasted like sugar and rainbows and daydreams. 

The hiccups went away. Ian was definitely surprised. But he kissed back. Alec tasted like books and surprises and adventures. 

They pulled apart. “That was a good surprise,” ian gasped. 

“I liked it too,” said alec, gently patting ian’s belly. Ian winced. 

“I think i should probably lie down and let all that sugar digest for a while,” he said.” Mind if i borrow your bed?”

“Not as long as you don’t mind if i’m in it,” ian said casually. 

“Smooth, bro.”

“Yea. i know.”

Keith had nearly finished his assignment for the video was to eat every item from taco bell. Obviously, he didn't eat all of each item, only a bite. Even so, his stomach was bloated and churning. He reeked of sweat, sauce, and beans. When he had signed up to work for Buzzfeed, this was not what he had expected.

At first, Keith had tried to hold in the gaseous emissions. This had resulted in him overheating and getting cramps. When the others realized this was the cause of his discomfort, Zach and Ned assured him that they were good enough friends and mature enough to sit with him in a room while he ate an immense amount of beans. After that, it was smooth sailing with Eugene filming, Zach encouraging Keith, and NEd being on cleanup duty.

Keith swallowed his last bite and burped. “I’m so glad this is over. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat that much,” Zach remarked, gazing at Keith with slight astonishment. 

“Oh, I have.” Keith thought back to those lonely nights in highschool and college but quickly recovered.

“What are we going to do with all this leftover food?” Zach asked, as Ned began wiping down the table. 

“Each of us could take some,” Ned suggested. Zach was ok with this idea until he realized that some of the ingredients would interfere with his medication. Ned remembered that Mexican food made his wife nauseous. Keith was too full to think coherently. They all turned to Eugene.

Throughout the filming, he had been unusually quiet, only commenting when necessary. “I… uh… I’m going vegan for a video. Sorry.” He walked quickly out of the room.

“Did anyone else think that was weird?” Zach asked. Keith moaned and all attention returned to him.

“This was such a bad idea,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. 

“Fuck.” Ned turned to Zach. “I think we maxed him out.” 

Zach bit his lip, worried. “He has to go back to his desk till the end of the work day.” Ned left the room to find Keith some sweatpants.

Zach knew how to help a bit. He’d been with Keith on some of his milder bad nights. Gently he unzipped Keith’s jeans and pulled them off, which was a struggle. Keith’s belly, given more freedom, expanded, until it looked like Keith had swallowed a pumpkin. Pulling the fabric of Keith’s T-shirt up over the globe of his belly. Zach brushed his finger against the taut skin. Keith moaned again, from pain or pleasure he wasn’t sure. Lightly, Zach ran his hands over the bulging belly, massaging out cramps as much as he could. Eventually, his fingers reached the edge of Keith’s boxers. They slid under the waistband, pressing into hairy flesh. 

The door opened and Ned returned with the sweatpants. Zach flushed and stood up quickly but ned hadn’t seen anything. They helped Keith into the sweatpants and then took him to a filming room that was being unused. They laid him down on the couch, hoping his stomach wouldn’t take too long to settle. As they were leaving, Keith winked at Zach, being his true food-drunk self. 

Eugene paced back and forth in the men’s room. Do not throw up, do not throw up, do not throw up. Suddenly, he dove for a toilet, spewing pink tinged  vomit into the white bowl. Arms wrapped around his middle, he hoped nobody would see him. His stomach ached and his throat burned. Fairly sure he was finished, he flushed the toilet and pulled himself to his feet. Rinsing his mouth at the sink, he splashed water on his face. He wasn’t dizzy at all. His swaying reflection laughed at him.

Eugene stepped out of the bathroom and returned to where they had been filming to retrieve the camera. Ned looked up from the tupperware he was packing the leftovers into. “Dude, are you feeling alright? You look really pale.”

“Mmm.” Eugene rubbed his face and reached for the camera before he realized this required and answer. “Totally. Yeah, I’m fine.” Ned remained skeptical but Eugene had already left. 

The Try Guys eventually all returned to their desks. Ned looked fondly at the picture of his wife that he had as his phone’s background. Keith rubbed his stomach, trying to pay attention to the files he was working on and less to the nausea building inside him. Zach watched Keith, while trying to look like he wasn't watching Keith. Eugene took some aspirin. His head was pounding and staring at a screen while he edited footage wasn’t doing him any favors either. 

3 Days Later

Keith, Ned, and Zach had definitely noticed something. Eugene wasn’t known for pouring out his feelings or being sweet and fluffy, but at least he was an extrovert at least 30% of the time. He’d been acting weird lately. He barely spoke to anyone in the office and there were bags under his eyes. He hadn’t eaten lunch with them for at least a week. Even in videos there was a difference, though less detectable.

It was Saturday and the boys were going out for drinks. Eugene arrived at the designated meeting place (Ned’s house) 20 minutes late with messy hair and a few keyboard imprints on his cheek. This was a new low.

Ned sat everyone down around his table. “Eugene, what is going on?” 

Eugene stared blankly for a second. “What?” 

“There’s obviously something wrong, either with you or in your life. We’re your friends. You can tell us anything. Please let us help.” “Honestly, I have no idea what all of you are worried about. I was up late and i fell asleep at my computer. Sorry for not being my usual punctual self. I promise I’m fine.”

Everyone at the table knew, this was bullshit but they also knew that if Eugene didn’t want to tell them, he wasn’t going to tell them.

In a strangely quiet mood,  they all climbed into a taxi that was taking them to a club. Zach told a funny story to get everyone back in the mood and then everything was back to normal. Dancing ensued as soon as they arrived.

Eugene was panicking. He had to act normal. They knew something was up. This was too embarrassing to tell anyone, even his closest friends. The room was really hot. There were too many people. He needed to get outside. Eugene stumbled toward the place where he thought the door was but the room began to spin. Then it went dark

“Oof.” Zach got the breath knocked out of him as Eugene ungracefully collapsed onto him. Zach had followed Eugene, seeing how unsteady he looked. Catching him unconscious was not what he had planned. “Ummm, a little help?” he called. While a strong and wiry man, Zach could not lift Eugene. Keith and Ned found him, more from the path the dancers left around him, than his calling. 

“So there’s definitely something wrong with Eugene,” Zach said, handing the unconscious man to Ned, who picked Eugene up bridal style. The barman showed them to a back room where they draped eugene on some furniture. Slowly his eyes fluttered open. 

“Dude, what the fuck?!!!” Ned was angry. Eugene looked around at the faces above him. They wouldn’t understand. He turned away and closed his eyes again, hoping they would leave. This did not improve Ned’s temper so Zach took him out to try and calm him down. Keith stayed. He put a hand on Eugene’s shoulder. 

“Please,” he whispered. “We just want to help. We really do care.”

Eugene sighed. “I know.” He felt something hot and wet on his cheeks. “I’m just afraid that you will all look at me differently if i tell you.” that was more emotion that he’d shown to anyone in a very long time. Keith struggled to hold back his own tears. He couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t want the support of their friends in whatever they were going through.

“Can you at least tell me why you think you passed out? We need to make sure you don’t need medical attention.”

Professionalism. This was something that Eugene could do. “It might have something to do with me only eating a toaster waffle today.”

“For breakfast?”

“At all.” 

Keith was incredulous. “How are you so calm about that?”

“Should I not be? It’s become sort of a routine.” 

Keith turned his back and muttered under his breath, trying to stay calm. “I’m going to bring you some sandwiches and you are going to eat them. Do you understand?” Eugene nodded. He was too tired to argue. He would have much rather stayed asleep with his face on the keyboard than gone out anyway. Keith got some sandwiches from the bartender and explained the situation to Ned and Zach. It took awhile to actually get the sandwiches into the room because Keith had to help Zach restrain Ned, who was furious, and keep him from chewing out Eugene.

Eugene took the plate of sandwiches complacently, but didn’t take a bit out of one of them. Instead, he took the top off the top of one, ate the lettuce and tomato, before laying the rest aside. There were 3 sandwiches of average size. Eugene ate all the vegetables and then put the plate down, preparing to leave. Keith stopped him. “You didn’t finish.”

“Vegan, remember?”

“Bread is vegan. Besides, there are eggs in toaster waffles. Now sit down.”

Obediently, Eugene sat, picking at the bread and turkey. He would pinch off a piece, chew it slowly, swallow, wait what seemed like an extremely long time, and repeat. He kept asking, “Can I go now?” 

Keith’s only response was “Finish”. He looked tired and drained, unable to bear seeing his friend like this.the others were let into the room but told to stay quiet. Finally, Eugene finished. He felt massively full and he was sure every person on the other side of the door should be able to see just how round his belly was. He burped uncomfortably. The 3 men stared at him.

“Well, now that I am finished, can i go?” No one tried to stop him so he stood up and left. Ned, Zach, and Keith looked at eachother. What were they going to do with him? They went back out and tried to enjoy themselves, all the while one always staying within catching distance. 

Eugene seemed like he was alright, dancing and flirting like his usual self. He also drank quite a lot. As the night dragged on, his dancing got slower and less vibrant until he stopped, with his arms wrapped around his middle and his head bent down. 

Zach was, again, the closest. “Are you ok?” He asked over the blaring of music.

“I don’t feel very good.” One of Eugene’s hands moved from his middle to be over his mouth. 

“Fuck.” Zach grabbed Eugene. They made it to the men’s room just in time, Zach waiting outside, sure that Eugene would want some privacy. Even so, he could hear the wretching from outside. 

“All done?” Zach asked. Eugene made a non-committal sick person noise so Zach came back in. He found Eugene sitting on the dirty floor with tears streaming down his cheeks once again. Zach knew lt beside him, rubbing his back. 

“I’m sorry,” Eugene whimpered. “I tried so hard.”

“It’s ok,” Zach said, trying to be comforting but also very confused.

“I didn’t mean to make you all so upset. But i couldn’t keep it in. i’m sorry. It’s better this way.”

Zach wasn’t sure how to respond. “This way?”

“Out. it feels better out. Nothing feels right in me.”

“Hello everybody!” Phil smiled into the camera. “I’m filming this at, like, one in the morning cuz I can’t sleep. I’ve got to be quiet so I don’t wake Dan up. Since I’m so bored, I thought I would make a video. A lot of you guys have sent me care packages, so tonight I'm going to try some American candy.”

Phil sat on his bed, surrounded by boxes and envelopes, though most of them were off camera. He and Dan had just gotten back from VidCon in America and they were dealing with jet lag differently. Dan had been out cold for several hours but Phil was so restless he just couldn’t get to sleep. Also the chocolate had been calling to him. 

Phil’s stomach rumble hungrily.  ‘Guess i’ll have to edit that part out later,” he thought. Having had chinese take out a few hours ago at six, he really shouldn’t have been starving but he was a growing boy. 

Phil reached for a large package right next to him. “This is from Janelle in North Carolina. She writes that she loved seeing me do the Krave cereal challenge and sent me a box of Krave.” that had been years ago, but it didn’t really deter Phil. he loved that his fans could enjoy both his old and new branding. “Also in this box are a bag of assorted Hershey minis and a package of Kit-Kats.” he took a bite of one of the chocolates and rated it for his viewers. “Next we have a box from Randy in Wisconsin who sends Cow Tails, Reeses, and Charleston Chews that he recommends I eat frozen.” many of these candies were things Phil had never tried before, although some could be found in England. He opened box after box,finding multi-colored licorice, Swedish fish, gummy sharks, a giant rainbow gummy worm, some 3 Musketeers, Milky Way, crunch bar, Butterfingers, and much more. He didn’t eat everything on camera, only taking a bite of one thing per package. However, when he finished filming and put away the camera, he thought it would be such a waste to throw away half eaten candy that he finished every piece he had started. 

It was a few hours later and Phil had cleaned up the mess in his room. The boxes had gone in the garbage, the letters had gone in a pile to be read, and the rest of the candy had been sorted by type in his sweets cabinet so he could know what was what later.

Feeling guilty for eating so much junk food, Phil decided to balance it out with something healthy. He just happened to have the Krave cereal Janelle had sent him. It was his cereal this time so Dan couldn’t yell at him when it was gone. 

Phil poured himself a bowl of Krave and decided to watch some Anime while he ate. However, he got so engrossed in Fairytale that he accidentally ate the whole box. By this time, he was feeling fairly full. He climbed into bed, hoping the extra food in his belly would make him sleepy.

He waited for thirty minutes, trying as hard as he could to sleep, but all he could think about was his neatly organized cabinet of candy. He knew better than to eat more than he needed but it was ok to indulge once in awhile, right? It’s not like he had anything better to do. 

Phil started with the giant gummy worm, because he thought it would be the hardest to work through. He was correct. The gumminess of it was very hard to chew and after a few minutes the flavor got old. Each color was a new flavor though, and with Anime to distract him from how dumb he was being. He managed to finished the monstrosity.

Next, Phil moved on to the chocolate. There was so much of it! Maybe 8 lbs altogether. Some had nuts, some had carmel. There was nougat, peanut butter, coconut, and marshmallow. At first, Phil savored each bite, enjoying the unique flavors, but whenever Natsu got really angry or there was drama with Erza and Grey, he would just mindlessly unwrap anything and put it in his mouth. Before he knew it, he’d eaten nearly half the chocolate.

He paused the movie to use the bathroom and noticed his stomach was starting to hurt. Phil wasn’t really surprised. Anyone who ate that much was bound to feel a little sick. He went to the kitchen to get a drink. Acidic things likejuice tended to speed up digestion so he often drank them when he wanted to avoid feeling sick. It was especially useful when he and Dan got very fatty or greasy take out because then he could eat as much as he wanted instead of having to stop after an appetizer and 2 breadsticks. 

Something else that had been in his care packages was American kool aid. Phil thought that this was probably just the thing for his situation. Reading the instructions, Phil discovered that he needed a gallon pitcher to use it. They didn’t have a gallon pitcher but they did have a very large beer mug so Phil used that. He drank a few sips and found it good but slightly tart. (He’d forgotten to add sugar.) he was about to take it back to his room when he remembered Dan’s new preference about drinks in rooms with carpeted floors. It was perfectly justifiable considering the incident. However, he also didn’t want to wake Dan by leaving the kitchen lights on too long. To compromise, Phil chugged the entire beer mug in under a minute. Then he returned to his room, remembering to turn off the kitchen lights.

A few minutes later, Phil deeply regretted his decision. Apparently his body did not enjoy being packed full of sugary, dairy heavy foods and then adding a pint or two of liquid to that very rapidly. His stomach gurgled and sloshed loudly. When he put his hand on his belly, which was slightly swollen, he could feel everything moving around inside it. It wasn’t very comfortable. He gently massaged his belly, hoping that if he could burp, it would hurt less. That worked for a few minutes, his belly seeming to calm down. 

Thinking the coast was clear and he was now in the safe zone, Phil ate another pound of chocolate in 10 minutes. This was the wrong choice. Instead of pain, though, he was now experiencing extreme nausea. Every time he burped, he was afraid everything else was going to come p with it. If he’d just thrown up at this point, everything probably would have been fine. But Phil didn’t do the logical thing. 

If he threw up, it might wake up Dan, and then Dan might worry about him, or laugh at him, or yell at him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle Dan being mad at him right now. So Phil sat and endured the most uncomfortable hour of his life so far, using all his power to not vomit on the sheet in front of him. His strategy? He Stared directly at the corner of the room and zoned out, Breathing through his mouth very shallowly. He didn’t move a muscle, at least as much as he could help it. 

Phil must have fallen asleep, though how he could have done it in his position he wasn’t sure. But when he looked at the clock on his laptop screen, it was nearly noon. 

phil left his room, checking to see if Dan was up. His nausea seemed to be gone but he was still experiencing pretty intense abdominal pain. Dan didn’t seem to be awake so Phil lay down on the couch and turned on the tv. He had trouble focusing on the program. The images became blurry colored shapes moving around on the screen. 

Dan came out of his room at one pm-ish. He stretched and yawned, feeling much more rested than he had the night before. Then he shuffled through the living room and into the kitchen. As he made himself some breakfast-or was it lunch- he notices the tv was on. Phil must be up. But Phil hated the show that was playing. He never watched stuff like that. 

Dan walked over to the couch and looked down at phil. Phil lay on the couch, slightly curled up with his eyes half closed. He wasn’t even looking at the screen. Usually Phil couldn't sleep if a video was playing in the next room over.

Dan reached down and touched Phil’s shoulder. “Hey sleepy head,” he said softly. 

Phil’s eyes opened and he looked around, confused. “Huh?”

“Babe, why were you sleeping on the couch?”

“Mmm.” Phil rubbed his eyes and made sleepy noises. “Dunno.”

“OK then.” Dan smiled to himself. How was his boyfriend so adorable? “I’m getting myself some lunch. Do you want anything?”

Phil froze. He didn’t want to think about food, much less eat food. The word lunch made him feel sick again. “No.”

“Alright babe. Don’t look so scared. It’s not like I asked you to eat bugs or something.” Dan laughed and took his plate into his bedroom. Phil swallowed hard.

The pain in his belly wasn’t going away. In fact it was getting worse. Phil felt awful. What he really wanted was for Dan to cuddle him and rub his belly and make everything better again. But Dan would never do that. Phil was too disgusting. What kind of person eats that much food at once?

Maybe if he could get rid of the food, his stomach would hurt less. Dan was awake now, so he wouldn’t be bothered by a little random noise. The conventional methods of inducing vomit didn’t occur to phil, so he decided to play some VR instead. He went into Skyrim and joined a tournament in which he fought dragons; five of them. Surely that would make him sick. 

Dan came out of his room to put his dirty dishes in the sink and saw Phil wearing the VR set, presumably playing something. But Virtual Reality made Phil nauseous. Why would he play that voluntarily? Dan tappe Phil. Phil jumped and almost screamed, then took off the headset. “Dude, you startled me. I was fighting dragons.” Phil’s face was flushed and his hair was messy.

“Great. Are you winning?”

“Sort of.” Phil looked down.

“What’s that for?” Dan tilted PHil’s chin up towards him and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Uh.” Phil was going to answer but Dan said something before he could. 

“Babe you're really warm.”

“Not hot?” Phil asked shyly. 

“Well, that’s a given. But honestly, are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine, just getting in some exercise slaying dragons.” now Dan knew Phil was lying. Exercise was never something Phil would do voluntarily. Dan didn’t want to push it though. If Phil didn’t want to tell him something, nothing would get it out of him. Dan would wait till Phil was ready to tell him on his own. 

“Alright then. Well, I'm going to try and sleep some more and maybe work on video stuff. Continue murdering innocent reptiles.”

Phil laughed. “Will do.”

Dan returned to his room and Phil finished killing dragons. While the VR was making him feel worse, he still hadn’t thrown up yet. Short of sticking his fingers down his throat, he wasn’t sure of any other ways to make it happen. He felt that doing that was more unhealthy than what he had already done so he hoped to avoid it. Instead he decided to eat until he threw up, which wasn’t much better. 

Taking the contents of his candy cupboard into the bathroom, he locked the door and did the deed. He was surprised how much it took, having to eat nearly everything, and how little came up compared to the amount he had consumed, only getting 3 bowls full, and how much it hurt. Finally, he did just use his fingers because there wasn’t anything else he could do. 

When he was done, he cleaned everything up, hoping he could make the bathroom looked like nothing had happened. He didn’t feel nauseous anymore. There wasn’t anything left for his body to get rid of, but he still felt awful. His abdomen hurt alot. Now his throat hurt and his head hurt and he was dizzy and… He brushed his teeth. The taste of vomit had stayed in his mouth. 

Dan was editing something on his laptop when he heard a soft tap at the door. “Come in?” the door opened a crack and Phil came in. right away Dan could tell Phil was feeling worse. Phil’s skin was flushed with feverish heat and sweat was on his forehead. His eyes were slightly glassy and he swayed unsteadily, his arms wrapped around his middle.

“Can I stay with you for a little?” 

“Of course babe.” Dan patted a spot on the bed next to him. Phil climbed on to the bed and lay down, seeming exhausted. He closed his eyes and turned away from dan, who was growing more  and more concerned by the second. Heat radiated off of phil. Dan could feel it without trying to touch him. 

Dan closed his laptop and rolled over, trying to cuddle his boyfriend. Kissing the back of his neck he whispered, “Love?” Phil didn’t respond. Dan could feel Phil's body tensing a his touch.

Phil cried silently, his tears dripping onto Dan’s pillow. How could Dan want to touch him? He was so gross, so disgusting, so worthless. He did stupid things like making himself sick and trying to eat more in one sitting than an elephant.

Dan could feel Phil shaking. He knew what it meant. But he never saw Phil cry like this. He cried at happy endings and when the animals died in movies, not in a dark room alone or because of fear. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry.” it was a whispered so quiet Dan barely heard. 

“What for, love?” Phil turned his tear streaked face toward Dan, who kissed his burning forehead. 

“You deserve better.” “You’re perfect, love. You’re all I could ever ask for.” Dan didn’t understand why Phil would ever say something like this. Usually Phil was confident in himself and their relationship. “Where is this coming from? Don’t you know I love you?”

“I did something stupid.” Dan almost laughed. It couldn’t be that bad then. Phil explained to him what had happened. At first Dan found it funny but as the story progressed he became more and more worried and upset. “Do you hate me?” Phil asked when he had finished. 

“Of course not,” Dan replied. “Why would a thing like overeating make me mad?”

“Because I'm gross and disgusting and I made myself sick.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of halloween? All kids give themselves stomachaches at least once.”

“But the other part?”

“I’m more upset that you thought you couldn’t come to me when you didn’t feel well and didn’t want to take care of  yourself because you were worried about me. I care about you phil.” he looked deep into Phil's eyes. “IF you’re hurting, I want to know about it so I can try to make it better. If you mess up, I want you to feel like you can tell me. Then I can try to help you fix your mistake.”

“Ok.” Phil rolled over and hugged dan,burying his face in his shirt. “I love you BEar.”

“I love you Babe.” 

They stayed like that for a few minutes until their cuddling session was interrupted by a loud gurgle. Phil blushed. “Sor- um…” he didn’t say ‘sorry’ again but he wasn’t really sure what to say either. 

“Are you still feeling sick?” Dan asked, already knowing the answer.

“A little. My stomach still hurts. Actually a lot of things hurt. But you make it better.” Dan reached down and rubbed Phil's tummy. It was still very angry with him, even though he’d tried to get rid of all the offending food. When Phil eventually fell asleep, which was something he tended to do when they cuddled, Dan got up and looked for supplies. 

Dan found Phil adorable, also being sick Phil needed the rest. He had a feeling Phil wasn’t just sick from overeating. Whenever he had things like chocolate or pizza or milkshakes, even in a moderate amount, his stomach would hurt. Phil didn’t always tell Dan when this happened but Dan saw the change in posture, arms folded protectively over his middle, tensing up every time it crampe, and becoming much quieter. He was pretty sure Phil was lactose intolerant. As fast as he knew, once the reaction began, there wasn’t much  you could do about it except ride it out but they could avoid it in the future. He made Phil some tea with honey and lemon for his throat, aspirin for his head, and toast. It would be light on Phil’s stomach, which did need food in it. 

Dan went back into the room to check on phil. He looked so angelic when he was sleeping. Dan reached down and brushed the hair out of Phil's eyes, feeling the heat that still lingered on his skin. 

Phil’s eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?”

“Shh, babe. I just need you to hold this in your mouth and then you can go back to sleep.” Dan stuck a thermometer into Phil's mouth, waited for it to beep, and then left. Phil whined as he walked out. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be back soon.” the thermometer read 101 degrees Fahrenheit. Definitely a fever, though not too dangerous if he could bring it down. He added a fever reducer and damp washcloth to his pile of remedies and brought them in to phil.

 *Cue the cutest, fluffiest taking care of sick person/making out scene you can imagine.*

Peter Parker wasn’t anorexic. He really wasn’t. But sometimes, with all the homework and studying and chores and taking care of aunt may, not to mention saving the world as Spider-Man, he forgot to eat. People could understand that. Business needed to be taken care of and when he had any free time, he used that to sleep. 

So it was no surprise to him that he was ravenously hungry one evening after school. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous morning, being caught up with everything. Well, that’s not exactly true. He’d had a coffee or two and an energy bar somewhere in there. He wasn’t sure when exactly. 

He opened the door to the house and found it quiet and empty. There was a note on the table in aunt May’s handwriting. “I’ve gone down to the shops to buy groceries since we’re out. Don’t expect me back till late.” Peter shook his head. His aunt had a thing with the grocer. She would probably be going to dinner with him. Which was great for her. He loved that she had a social life. It meant she was distracted from his sneaking out and skipping school at all hours to fight crime. 

Peter really hoped she was wrong about being out of groceries though. He was starving. He looked in the fridge. No luck. The cupboards had stuff in them but not enough to make a full meal. His eyes caught a blur of yellow in the corner of his vision. He turned. There on the counter was the holy grail of bananas. Two whole bunches rested in a wicker basket. 

Peter grabbed the basket and went into his room. Normally he would study or set up something to watch on his laptop while he ate but he was so hungry that he ate the first bunch in ten minutes, barely bothering to chew. He slowed down after that, getting out his calculus homework. It took about ten minutes per banana but he finished the second bunch as well. He’d finished calculus and history and was beginning on his coding session when the smell really began to get to him. The peels of fourteen bananas lay about the floor of his room. He stood up and felt an odd sensation in his belly. It was sloshing. He didn’t think he’d ever eaten enough to make it do that before. 

He wasn’t in any pain so he picked up all the peels and took them outside to the dump. He used the stairs instead of the elevator (apartment) because it made the sloshing continue and he kind of liked the way it felt. His room still smelled faintly of bananas but a few squirts of febreeze and cologne fixed that problem.

He reclined. on his bed with his laptop on his knees and continued coding. His stomach began making odd noises. At first he ignored it, as it was just sort of soft gurgling sounds but after a while they got louder and he could feel something (probably banana) moving around inside. Maybe eating fourteen bananas at once wasn’t such a good idea. 

His stomach got louder and moved around more. It was quite uncomfortable, although it didn’t hurt and it was making it hard for him to concentrate on his studies. He pulled up his shirt and looked down at his tummy. The normally slightly concave area where his abs would be if he had any was now rounded out, bloated even. He could feel the pressure in it building and wasn’t surprised that it was expanding, as it hadn’t stopped yet. 

He put his hand on his tummy. It was warm, warmer than he usually was, but it didn’t burn him. No imminent fire powers then. He pressed down slightly. It was squishy and soft but he could feel the skin growing taught as it expanded. A particularly loud noise emanated from his middle and he tensed up as a dull ache began to form in his belly. 

This worried him. He’d forgotten that he normally didn’t eat bananas. They didn’t agree with his digestive system. And now he’d eaten two bunches in two hours. He was in deep shit. 

Peter dug through his bag and got out his phone. He dialed a number. 

“Hey Spidey,” a gravelly voice answered.

“Wade-“ Peter burped loudly and then groaned as his stomach cramped and the taste of banana filled his mouth.

“Peter, are you alright?” Deadpool’s voice became serious.

“Wade, what happens if you eat fourteen bananas in two hours?”

“Why did you eat fourteen bananas in two hours!?”

“I was hungry?”

“Peter, have you been skipping meals again?”

Peter opened his mouth to reply but another burp came out instead, this one sounding slightly wet. Not a good sign. Then his stomach chimed in with some loud gurgles. 

“I don’t feel so good,” Peter mumbled into the phone.

“I can tell. I’ll be there soon. But we’re going to talk about this later, whether you like it or not.”

Peter just nodded and hung up. He was pretty sure he was going to throw up soon but he really didn’t want to. He hated the feeling of it and he knew he needed these calories. Plus it was a waste of food. 

Wade climbed through the window a few minutes later. He saw peter’s skinny frame curled up on the bed. From behind he looked so tiny, his spine showed through his t-shirt. Wade walked quietly around to the other side. Peter’s belly was huge compared to his normal size. It had nearly finished expanding and it looked like he’d cut a basketball in half and swallowed it. Wade could hear the angry noises peter’s stomach was making and the pitiful one coming from the small boy’s lips. 

“Peter?” Deadpool said his name to make sure he was awake. 

Peter opened his eyes. “Hey,” he said, then put a hand over his mouth. He would not throw up. He would not throw up. he would not throw up. 

Wade grabbed a nearby trash can and placed it by Peters head. “Its there if you need it.”

Peter shook his head. Wade rolled his eyes. “May I?” He reached for the hem of peter’s shirt. Peter sighed and nodded. 

Wade pulled the shirt up and then over peter’s head, revealing the creamy skin underneath. Peter’s belly was very swollen and a much pinker hue than the rest of him. His face alternated between reddish and green tinted. Wade tentatively placed his hand on peter’s belly. Peter was much warmer than his normal temperature, although probably not feverish. The skins was so soft and smooth that wade wanted to make a pillow out of it. or maybe he could just use peters belly for a pillow. 

He pushed his fingers down gently and Peter flinched. “Sorry. Remind me again why you thought you should eat bananas at all? You know how they affect you.”

Peter threw up. He had tried so hard not to but it just happened. He couldn’t help it. He felt awful. 

“It’s ok. Let it out.” Wade rubbed his back as he puked his guts out, mostly making it into the trash can. The puke smelled like bananas which currently were making him nauseous so it just sped up the process. 

It was gross. Really gross. And everything hurt. Peter started to cry. 

Wade was a little surprised. He’d never seen Peter cry before. He was sick and in pain and most likely embarrassed so this is a time when crying would make sense but wade just hadn’t expected it. 

Peter stopped throwing up. He didn’t seem to have anything left although his belly was still protesting loudly. Wade helped him lie down, where he immediately curled up again, arms wrapped around his middle. Wade dumped the puke out the window and wipe the spill off the floor with some tissues. Then he got on the bed with Peter, spooning him. 

“Come on, baby, let me help.”

Fic idea: a tells b that they like them. B doesn’t get it. A gets upset and drinks milk. Gets a little sick cuz lactose intolerant. B does something else. A does it again but really sick this time. B comforts and then understands.

Tommy took a deep breath, psyching himself up for this. He would finally tell Gabe how he felt about him. Gabe walked into the kitchen, his black hair and almond skin making Tommy almost drool. 

“Can I tell you something?” Tommy asked tentatively. His blue eyes glanced up and then down.

“Sure. Anything,” Gabe replied, smiling. 

“I… I like you.” He let out a long breath. There. He’d said it. Now he just needed to know how Gabe felt.

“Awww. Thanks buddy. I like you too.” Gabe put a friendly had on his shoulder, then got his coffee and left the kitchen. 

Tommy frowned. He felt deflated. Gabe didn’t understand what he had meant. Tommy poured himself a tall glass of milk. Since he was lactose intolerant,this was sort of like a punishment. He had failed in his mission. he deserved to feel like crap.

1 hr later

As predicted, the milk wasn’t agreeing with him. Tommy’s stomach sloshed and churned and he felt dizzy and nauseous. He wandered into the living room, hand on his belly. 

“Hey there- Are you alright?” Gabe looked concerned. He stood up from the couch and walked over to Tommy. “Are you sick?” He put his hand to Tommy’s forehead, checking for a temperature. 

“Just a little upset stomach,” Tommy muttered, brushing Gabe’s hand away. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I was on my way to the medicine cabinet, actually.”

“You go lay down. I’ll take care of you.”

Tommy blushed even though it was obvious that Gabe didn’t mean it in a romantic way. He went to his room and lay down. Gabe came in with some pills and a glass of water. “Here take this and get some rest.” 

Tommy smiled. He took the pills and rolled over while Gabe pulled the covers up over him. 

Days pass

Once again, Tommy felt defeated and unloved. He’d made Gabe his favorite sandwich to take to work that day but when he went to make his own lunch he found it still in the fridge. Apparently Gabe preferred to go out instead of eating the food lovingly crafted for him by his best friend. 

Tommy decided to drown his sorrows in a few pints of ice cream. He had chocolate chip, strawberry mango, and Neapolitan. That amount of food alone would upset his delicate stomach. seeing how high the dairy content of this meal was, being ill the rest of the day was inevitable.

Gabe came home from work to find Tommy asleep on the couch. At least he thought he was asleep. As he got closer he could hear the moans and whimpers coming from him and he saw the uncomfortable squirming.

“Are you feeling ill again?” Gabe asked. Tommy pulled the blanket over his head and groaned.

“That’s a yes then.” Gabe walked over to the couch and sat down on the floor next to it. “Come out?” He asked. 

A whimpered “no” came from under the blankets.

“Pretty please?”

The blanket shook its head shaped area.

“If you come out I can try to make you feel better.”

Slowly Tommy pulled the blanket down till his face was showing.

“Hey there sunshine.” Gabe booped his nose. “What’s got you so sick all the time?”

Tommy nearly whispered “you”, but he stopped himself and shrugged instead. 

“Well what’s feeling bad? I can’t help without a list of symptoms.” Gabe ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair, noticing the sweat and slightly raised temperature of his friend.

“Mostly my tummy.”

“Awww. Little Tommy has a tummy ache.” Gabe chuckled.

Tommy scrunched up his face. “It’s not funny.”

“Sorry. Can I see it?”

Tommy nodded. He pulled the blanket down and tried to sit up but when he reached verticality,he curled up again, whimpering from the pain.

“You don’t have to sit up. It’s ok. Just stay where you are and let me have a look.”

Gabe gently pulled up Tommy’s shirt, which was already slightly stretched, to look at the swollen belly underneath. It was bloated and red and Gabe could hear the loud unhappy noises it was making. 

“Poor little belly. What did you eat recently?”

Tommy muttered something indecipherable and blushed.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Three pints of ice cream…?” Tommy said it a little louder,sounding guilty.

Gabe gaped for a minute before saying, “well that explains a lot.”

Tommy smiled ruefully. “Yep.”

“Well, you kind of deserve this stomach ache but I’ll help you with it anyway because I’m a nice person.”

“Thanks.” Tommy looked happy for all of two seconds before he scrunched his face into a grimace of pain. His belly kept making loud noises. “Oww.”

Gabe gazed at Tommy, who looked rather pitiful. He put his hands on Tommy’s belly and began to massage. For a few seconds Tommy looked like he was going to throw up but he just burped and then seemed much more peaceful.

“Is this helping?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, a lot.”

Gabe rubbed his belly for almost an hour. By then, Gabe’s hands had gotten tired and Tommy had fallen asleep. Tommy’s tummy was still angry though, so Gabe went into the kitchen to make a soothing tea. When he opened the fridge, he saw the sandwich and finally understood. Tommy didn’t just like him. He liked him. 

This kid was more love sick than actually sick. Although his stomach was pretty jacked up from all the ice cream. This realization was actually a relief to Gabe. He’d liked Tommy for a while.

The tea was boiling so he poured it and took it back out to Tommy. Tommy rolled over and looked up at Gabe sleepily. 

“Wanna cuddle.” He gave Gabe his big, blue puppy dog eyes. Gabe almost melted. Tommy was just soooo cute.

“Ok.” He took the tea into his bedroom and then carried a slightly surprised Tommy in and laid him on the bed. 

“Sorry I didn’t bring the sandwich to work with me today. I know you worked really hard on it. I had a meeting with my boss over lunch and she wanted me to go out with her so I couldn’t eat it at work. Sorry.”

“Its ok. i'm not mad.”

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset earlier.” Gabe gently poked Tommy’s slightly less swollen belly. 

Tommy squirmed uncomfortably. “Yea. I’m not the best at dealing with my feelings.”

“Drink some tea. It should help.”

Tommy dutifully drank his tea. He felt warm from his toes to his nose and it made him even more sleepy. “Mmmm,” he purred lazily. 

 *During season 4, episodes 7 (It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester) and 8 (Wishful Thinking)*

“Dean, what are we going to do with all that candy?” Sam Winchester stared at the four bags of assorted sweets that filled the back seat of the impala. Each held three pounds of sugary goodness. 

“It’s Halloween, Sammy. Enjoy yourself.” Dean Winchester unwrapped a caramel and chewed. “Delicious.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He didn’t take any candy.

“Your loss, Bro.” They pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and Sam hopped out of the car. 

“Alright. I’m gonna stay here and do some research. You go stake out that house.”

“On it,” Dean replied, with a Kit-Kat in his mouth.

Dean parked his car across the street from the victim’s house, a prime viewing position. Nothing much was happening, so he turned on his tunes, occasionally putting a handful of candy in his mouth.

After a few hours, he called Sam to report, well, nothing. As he dialed the number, his stomach began to cramp, hard. He looked over at the seat beside him and saw one of the candy bags, full of Skittles, lying there empty. A huge amount of candy wrappers also littered the floor. He moaned a little and Sam asked, “Dean, are you ok?” 

“Peachy. I’m having an allergic reaction to four pounds of sugar.” As he spoke, Dean saw movement by the building. “Wait, i have a lead. I know who the witch is. I’m gonna come get you so we can burn the bitch.” Dean closed the phone and started his engine, pulling away from the curb.

The candy felt heavy in his stomach. He wasn’t used to the too-full feeling. He ate junk food all the time but only what they could afford. He put a hand to his gurgling belly. It was bloated and achy. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. They had to stop the rising of Samhain. He only hoped that Sam would forget what he’d said on the phone. 

Sam jumped into the car. As they moved away, he brushed candy wrappers off his seat and chuckled, then poked Dean in the gut. “Hey, what was that for?”

“Just observing how you’re in prime operating condition.” Sam laughed. Dean said nothing and stared sullenly at the road.

During the job, Dean tried to ignore the pain in his belly. He was a professional after all. It wasn’t easy when the witch used a spell for making you feel like someone is braiding your intestines as an incapacitator. By the end of the night, Dean was too shaken up to notice anymore. Sam apparently wasn’t. 

“So, how’s your tummy?” he asked, slightly mockingly. 

“Shut up.”

“No really, are you ok?”

“Fine.”

Sam opened his mouth to ask again, genuinely concerned if his brother was being this defensive, but before he could say anything, Dean said, “Want me to prove it? I’ll finish everything that’s in this car.”

Sam shook his head. Why was his brother always like this? It seemed like he was always trying to prove how tough he was. “Fine.”

Dean had started shoving candy in his mouth before Sam had said anything. He couldn’t really taste it but that’s not what it was about. His already too full tummy expanded rapidly. As he swallowed more and more sugar, he began to feel dizzy. But this was a challenge he’d set for himself and he would beat it.

Sam looked away, disgusted as Dean’s shirt rode up over his swollen belly. “I can’t watch this. Come inside when you’re ready to act civilised.” Dean wasn’t really paying attention to Sam, only enjoying the repetitive unwrap, chew, swallow, and weirdly, the increasing discomfort in his abdomen. It took him a while to finish but he finally did. He sprawled out on the leaned back seat with his pants unzipped and his shirt in the backseat. He had the bulging curve of his belly all to himself and though it was kind of sexy. He put a hand on it, gently caressing the tight skin, sending shivers of pleasure down below. He was too stuffed to jack off but this was turning him on. Maybe if Sammy… But they were brothers and that was gross to even think about. The sugar finally got to him and he passed out. 

He woke up just after the sun to the sound of his stomach plotting revenge. It gurgled and churned. The nice sexy feeling from yesterday was gone, replaced by the feeling of being a nauseous, bloated whale. Dean could feel something rising in his throat. He hopped out of the car and ben over, hoping he wouldn’t get vomit on his baby. No puke ended up on the parking lot. Instead he just burped for five minutes. It didn’t make him feel any better. He pulled his shirt back on and went into the hotel, hoping that Sam wouldn’t be up so he could rest in a bed for a few hours. However Dean’s belly was so loud it woke Sam up too. 

“Dude, you really did it, didn’t you.”

“I’m a man of my word.” In this case, Dean really wished he wasn’t.

“Come on then, let’s get breakfast.” Dean groaned and Sam laughed. 

After leaving the diner-Dean spent most of their time there in the bathroom, only drinking half a ginger ale- Sam drove on as they looked for their next job. Dean’s stomach never stopped making noises. When they pulled into a gas station for lunch, Dean stayed in the car. He didn’t want to think about eating and he took Sam’s absence as excuse to rub his belly and moan. It helped, but not much.

Sam came back and finally took pity on his brother, who looked miserable. “Dude, can i help?”

“I told you i’m fine, Sammy.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day. It’s not like you.”

“It’s also not like me to eat 12 lbs of candy but looky here.” He glared ruefully at his belly. 

“Just drink this. I promise you’ll feel better after.” The shot glass Sam handed him looked like it was filled with milk. It was not milk. 

Dean jumped out of the car, vomit exploding out of his mouth. “What (blarg) was that? (cough)”

“Baking soda mixed with water. It induces vomit.” 

“I (pant) can tell. Oh no (blarg).” Another wave of sick passed through Dean’s lips. By the time he had finished, which was surprisingly long, a large puddle of puke had spread across the pavement. The gas station attendant was not happy, since he’d have to clan it up. Neither were Dean’s shoes. They were soaked in his stomach’s contents. Dean decided to just buy new ones.

“Feeling better?” Sam asked cheerfully. 

“I’m feeling emptier. God, warn a person when you’re gonna do that.” Dean was still catching his breath. “Did you at least get me a mint too?”

“Here.” 

“Thank you.”

They drove on, Sam having discovered their next job. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell Sam that, while his nausea was gone, he still felt sick. He didn’t eat dinner that night either. 

Their next case involved a wishing well, which they didn’t encounter until 2 days later. In that time Dean’s stomach had fully settled but he hadn’t eaten much besides coffee, alcohol, and soft drinks. so technically eaten nothing. 

Dan Howell has anxiety and doesn’t tell his boyfriend. Bad things happen.

Dan’s stomach wasn’t feeling the greatest. It could have been the large amount of suspicious taco meat in dinner the night before. It could have been a flu bug going around his circle of friends. Or it could be that he was nervous for today’s DanAndPhilGames video. He knew that Phil wanted to get back at him for the dragon. Just a little playful revenge.

But the thing was that Phil knew what dan was actually afraid of. Not jump scare, freaky masks afraid. Cold sweat, vomit, hid in his room for days afraid. Thing was, he didn’t know the difference between the two. He just knew Dan had that reaction to some fears and not others. Dan didn’t want to ruin the video over a silly phobia. So he didn’t mention anything to Phil. They sat down on the gaming room and began to film.

Pretty soon after filming, Dan discovered the thing he would be battling was a spider. Now if this was a regular video game with a mouse and keys or or a switch controller, he would have been fine. But this was VR. Everything was different there. As Dan explained to the camera, spiders made his insides squirm until they were no longer inside. Phil looked slightly concerned but Dan was coping so everything was ok, right? Dan was so glad they kept a waste bin by the desk. He wasn’t sure, but he might need it.

Throughout the filming, Dan kept up appearance for the viewers. He only visibly reacted to the jump scares and pretended to puke on Phil at creepy noises. However, as soon as he entered that cave of spiders and the sound of their tiny feet clicking on the walls around him entered his ears, he knew he was a goner. He could feel them crawling on him, coming out of the controllers and pattering up his arms, across his shoulders, down his back, up his nick. He could swear on had its feet tangled in his hair!

Phil knew his boyfriend’s signs better than any viewer. The play scared was obvious but there was also the real terror underlying it. Phil put a hand on Dan’s arm. Dan jumped and yelled, “Dude!”

Phil flipped off the camera while he spoke so he would remember to edit this part out. “Babe, are you ok? We can stop if you want to. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Dan replied, trying to steady his breathing. “You just nearly gave me a heart attack there.”

Dan continued to play. As he reached the final boss, he felt something crawl into his mouth and yelled, running away from it. The invisible spider was already inside him now. He could feel it crawling down his throat. There was nothing he could do but beat the boss so this video would be over and he could leave. As he fought and eventually won, the spiders crawling down his throat multiplied, making it hard for him to breathe. They entered his stomach and intestines en masse, their feet tickling him and stabbing him at the same time. He became more and more panicky as they filmed the end screen, Phil looking at him more worriedly than he should on camera. Dan knew the spiders were preparing to bite him, their sharp, venomous fangs about to pierce his tender flesh. 

Dan dove onto the floor, clutching the bin to himself like his life depended on it and violently emptying his stomach. “Dan!” Phil sat down next to him on the floor and rubbed his back. “I’m so so so so sorry. I didn’t know you were being serious during the intro. I would never have even suggested this video.

“S’okay,” Dan panted. He had thought he was finished but then another wave of vomit ended up in the bin. He was very proud of not getting any on the carpet. 

“Can i help at all?” Phil looked so distressed by Dan’s condition that he almost laughed. 

“Relax. It’s not like i’ve never thrown up before.”

“I know but this time it was my fault.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Dan.”

“Ok, ok. If you wanna make it up to me then come cuddle.” Dan’s stomach seemed to have calmed down and he gingerly stood up, holding the bucket just in case. They walked into his room and lay down on the bed. Dan curled up on top of Phil, accepting cuddles and affection. He just told him no butterfly kisses tonight.

Stuffing story inspired by the Charlie XCX song lyrics. all characters are OC’s specifically created for this story. don’t hate. hope somebody likes this. 

/Ice cream for dinner, bucket of liquor, we’re getting sicker, we’re all in, we’re all in love/

Jared burped. “Dude!” Terence high fived him. Sylvia shook her head.“You boys are gross. And besides, girls do it better.” Chugging some beer she threw her head back and belched, scaring a few people in the back of the party who hadn’t been paying attention. “DUUUUDE!” She received a round of high fives and fist bumps.

In the background, the sound of retching could be heard. Several teenagers were getting sick in the bushes, out the window, or on the carpet. Other couples were getting kinda handsy as they stumbled up the stairs. Terence covered his mouth and nose. “This place is starting to reek.”

Sylvia nodded. “Let’s blow this Popsicle stand!” Jared yelled, from on top of a coffee table.

“Umm…,” Terence and Sylvia looked at each other, at Jared, and then back at each other. “Come on, Buddy.” They helped Jared get off the table and maneuvered him to the door.

Having all imbibed large amounts of alcohol, they decided to walk back. The house they were staying in was only a few blocks away but it took them an hour because of all the swaying, stumbling, laughing, and going in circles. 

Terence unlocked the door and they tumbled inside. Tumbled because Jared tripped over the steps and Sylvia tripped over Jared. She grabbed Terence’s ankle to pull herself up and accidentally pulled him down with her. 

After untangling themselves, they made their way to a couch in the living room, strategically placed in front of a TV. turning it on for some background noise, Sylvia flipped to a cooking channel. Terence and Sylvia began a conversation which they thought was sophisticated but was really just random sentences incoherently strung together. They talked over Jared’s head, as he was sitting between them (so they could catch him if he passed out). He was enraptured with the glowing box in front of his eyes. On the screen, a lady in a chef’s hat was crushing fruit while a man stirred a bowl of white liquid. 

“Dude, they’re making ice cream!” Jared proclaimed, in awe. The others didn’t really acknowledge him until the program was nearly over and the characters were spooning ice cream into their mouths as the credits rolled over their faces. 

“Dude, i haven’t had ice cream in forever!” he yelled, standing up from the couch and then quickly sitting back down. He was sober enough to know that rooms don’t generally spin unless you’re in a fun house.

“Me neither, actually,” Sylvia responded, nodding.

“I think we actually have some in the basement.” Terence stood up and went down some stairs to check. This was his boyfriend’s parents’ house but they were out of town for a few weeks. They were fine with him crashing there and didn’t object to other friends visiting as long as no parties were hosted. Conveniently, there were plenty of available parties at other people’s houses that they could attend. 

Terence returned to the couch, carrying three gallon tubs of ice cream and spoons for each of them. “I don’t know what these were for so we should probably replace them when we finish but i thought that this would be enough for all of us to get some.” Sylvia and Terence glanced at Jared, who was known for his ravenous appetite, even when not under the influence. 

Terence arrange the tubs on the table and everyone sat on the floor, digging their spoons in wherever they like. Eventually though, they each picked a flavour and stuck to it. It was easier to focus on the Marvel movie Sylvia had started playing on Netflix that way. 

By the end of the movie, they were all in varying stages of fullness. Sylvia had eaten about half the gallon of vanilla, before decided she favored a flask of vodka hidden in the couch cushions. Terence ate his whole gallon f strawberry and started to feel a little sick so he sipped some wine, which he aquired from the alcohol cabinet. Jared, living up to his reputations, ate all of the chocolate and finished Sylvia’s vanilla. He also managed to procure and guzzle, from who knows where, a whole bottle of whiskey.

Jared burped and put hand on his belly, which was quite large now. “That movie was amazing. And ice cream too. I can’t remember the last time i had any.” He burped again, this time seeming less comfortable. With the TV off, all three of them could hear the angry noises coming from his midsection. 

“Maybe giving you unlimited food when drunk wasn’t such a good idea,” Terence admitted. He wasn’t feeling too great either, but definitely better than Jared, who was now holding his belly and turning green.  

“Dude,” he moaned. “This is not gonna end well.” Thinking quickly, Sylvia grabbed a nearby waste basket and placed it in Jared’s lap. She was just in the nick of time, too. With a final, wet sounding burp, Jared began to heave. Copious amounts of thick brown liquid splashed into the plastic bin and drops splattered out onto his pants and bulging gut. Jared and Sylvia stood up quickly, muttering, “Dude, gross,” and backing away.

At this moment the door opened. Karynn, Vixie, and Rueben were back. Their outing to the mall had gone much later than they’d expected, but fashionistas need their time in the spotlight. They didn’t like drinking much either. Their chorus of giggly and high pitched conversations was halted by the sound of gagging coming from the next room. They knew that their partners enjoyed alcohol, but none had gotten drunk enough to be sick since they had figured out their limits.

Dropping their parcels in the relative safety of the kitchen, they hurried into the living room to see what the problem was. The sight that met their eyes was the same one that Terence and Sylvia saw. The table littered with ice cream containers, spoons,and lots of sticky spots sat in front of Jared, who was puking his guts out. Terence an Sylvia stood behind the table, hoping it would shield them from the back splash. The other two also looked bloated though it was hard to tell as Sylvia had her shirt pulled down. But Terence was unconsciously rubbing his stomach and his partner knew what it looked like when he was trying not to be sick. 

Karynn surveyed the situation before swearing. “Fuck.” those who heard looked at her. “You three are so dumb. Did you get so drunk you forgot you were all lactose intolerant?” in unison, their stomachs gurgled ominously as they all realized what had just happened. Jared paused in his expulsion of dairy to comment, “Whiskey burns a lot more on the way back up.”

When Jared had stopped being sick, and had emptied the trash, the three couples went their separate ways. Terence and Reuben got the master bedroom since it was Reuben’s house. Sylvia and Vixie took the guest room which left Jared and Karynn Reuben’s old bedroom. He didn’t live at home anymore so the room had been turned into a guest room, albeit a kind of messy one. The bed was meant for one so two would have to squish. Being midnight, it was too early for sleep but being in love and alone in a room together can give one other ideas. 

Jared was still feeling miserable and whether Karynn was horny or not didn’t matter. If he tried to fuck her, she’d probably get a face full of half digested ice cream. Of the three people in the house with a reaction to dairy, Jared’s was the most severe to begin with. Gorging himself on forbidden fruit could not have good consequences.

At first, Jared lay on the bed, trying to spoon Karynn. He breath smelled like vomit though, and his belly was so big he kept accidentally pushing her off when he breathed. They switched places which worked better for a little while. Karynn was pressed up against the wall and Jared was hot and sweaty but that was bearable. 

However, when Jared let out a massive, putrid fart, he knew a line had been crossed. Karynn pushed him off the bed and covered her mouth and nose with her hand. “Jared, that’s disgusting.”

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly.

Karynn opened a window and tried to fan out the noxious gas. Jared, realizing that he was not going to be let back on the bed, sighed and resignedly made a pile of junk from the floor to nest in. after 30 minutes of pretty much constant flatulence, Karynn had had it. She opened the door and pushed him into the hallway, ignoring his cries of, “I can’t help it.” After wallowing in self-pity for a few minutes, he locked himself in the bathroom. Originally he was going to stay there till she felt sorry and came back for him but then he ended up needing to use the facilities anyway and realized it would be a much longer stay. 

Sylvia and Vixie cuddled on the guest bed, which was actually meant for who people. Sylvia had show no signs of a reaction but Vixie wanted to make sure she was ok. Sylvia often hid injuries and illness from others, feeling like she could deal with it much better on her own. 

“Are you really lactose intolerant?” Vixie asked, casually. 

“Yea.” Sylvia rolled onto her stomach. “Back rub? Please?”

Vixie obliged but continued to pry. “Did you really forget earlier? Usually you’re pretty clear headed, even when you’re drunk.”

“Naw, i didn’t forget.” She hummed in pleasure as Vixie worked the knots out from between her shoulder blades. “The boys looked like they were enjoying themselves. I didn’t want to spoil their fun. And i didn’t think a little bit would hurt.”

“You had more than a little bit,” Vixie laughed. “Half a gallon of ice cream would be enough to make me sick.”

“Are you trying to get at something?” Sylvia asked, rolling over so she could look up at Vixie.

“Maybe.” Vixie slowly moved her hands to Sylvia’s midsection, where her purple sweater lay, still covering it. Sylvia sighed and nodded her consent. Vixie slowly pulled the sweater over Sylvia’s head, revealing her neon green bra and bloated belly. She’d been very skillfully hiding the bulge but now in the open, Vixie could tell there was too much food in that tummy. 

She ran her fingertips over the pale pink surface, gently pressing down and enjoying the unusual squish. Sylvia was fairly skinny so usually there wasn’t much to grab. “Does it hurt?” Vixie asked as she straddled Sylvia’s hips. 

“No.” Vixie poked Sylvia’s belly. “Ow! Maybe.” Sylvia was pouting now.

“Aww. you have a tummy ache,” Vixie cooed. 

“Shut up.” Sylvia crossed her arms.