kittycaterer | Ic inbox

[one of those moments. prompto sighs and sits up, legs crossed]

If it's about the pizza, I'll eat it later. It's no big deal.

[he presses forward, a hand over noctis' cheek, and presses a kiss to his lips. he's finding a way out of this conversation. worked once, it'll work again, right?]

[ Noctis needs time to process his words, because he honestly doesn’t know how to handle this. But he doesn’t want to upset Prompto either. His mind keeps reeling, moving quickly despite his indifferent expression. But Prompto seeks to stop that, it seems. And Noctis identifies it as yet another red flag.

Oh, but he’s so tempted. Noctis is an absolute sucker for Prompto, and he’s so close to returning it but—]

Prompto.

[ He places his hands at Prompto’s chest, gently pushing him away. Now he’s visibly worried. ]

What is going on?

[woah-- that didn't work out. noctis finally has a backbone??]

Uh.

[prompto blinks at him, mostly confused but also concerned. he doesn't want noctis finding out. but he also doesn't really understand that this is an issue that would show concern.]

You're worried about me for something, I guess?

[ He’s far too suspicious now to be delicate. That’s obviously not worked in the past, and Noctis went weeks without knowing about Prompto’s mark. This seems to be the same, and now he has to wonder what else Prompto is hiding out of fear of judgment.

So, he stiffens up a bit, wearing a stern, but worried expression. ]

You forced it, didn’t you? In the bathroom.

All I did was win over tons of top scores in Bejeweled.

[his story isn't adding up. he tosses a cushion at noctis, trying to relax again with his feet up on the other's lap.]

Told ya that cheese makes me sick, and I dunno, been feelin' queasy since Christmas dinner I guess.

You barely touched Christmas dinner. Didn’t eat when I came over either before that, after work.

[ And yeah, Prompto didn’t eat the rest of the day. Noct is immovable. ]

Dude.

[prompto starts, not feeling comfortable with this conversation]

Sometimes I don't feel like eating, big deal.

[ Noctis furrows his brow a bit there, looking absolutely taken aback by that response. Prompto says it like it’s not a problem, and suddenly he feels cold. Because that’s a scary thing his boyfriend just said. Noctis shifts to face Prompto on the couch, tense. ]

What?

That doesn’t make any sense. You can’t just stop eating. How long have you been doing this?

Woah, aren't you just jumping to conclusions?

[he knows what he said, but he didn't mean it like noctis should immediately infer that prompto isn't eating on purpose. did noctis already have ideas in his head? prompto needs to find a way to spin out of this one.]

Aren't you sometimes too tired to eat? Happens after work for me. Or like, after cooking all that stuff for Christmas, I really felt like I had eaten enough just from lookin' at the stuff.

It's fine anyway. I still eat breakfast and throughout the day.

And throw it up later.

[ Noctis did have some preconceived notions, but all of the red flags being raised here are just making him feel more sure. A lot of things Prompto does, right down to the obsessive working out, just seems to direct him in a fine line. He’s starting to get heated because it’s like this event an issue for Prompto and he’s defensive.

So Noctis is unmoving, expression no longer soft and now serious. Noctis glances down, catching a glimpse of Prompto’s hands. His fingers are red, and he snatches one. Taking a close look, he sees indents where his teeth once were. Now that he’s gotten a look at his complexion, he’s noticing red, signs that he’s sure aren’t normal. ]

How much weight have you lost?

[noctis snatches as his hands and prompto wants to protest, doing so in curling his fingers onto the other's hand, now sitting up. he doesn't know what noctis sees, and if he's found something that he's been trying to find, he says nothing of it. prompto remains unfazed.]

[until noctis asks how much weight he's lost, and there's a rather ironic change to his tone. prompto smiles, as if wishing someone would have noticed earlier and asked him about]

Eight pounds in the last two weeks. I know it's not much, but I'm closing down on 120 pounds. Just four more and I'll be there!

[ Noctis feels like he’s investigating too far but his gut is running the show. He doesn’t pay mind to Prompto’s fussing, eventually looking back to his face. And he’s ready to point out his findings until something shifts in Prompto’s demeanor. It’s like the defensiveness and irritation is gone when the subject of his weight comes up. And it’s almost disturbing how quickly he gets over it.

Not as disturbing as Prompto’s goal, though. Because that’s about as much as Noctis weighs, and he’s had plenty of doctors tell him he’s underweight, not over. Especially considering his height and health problems. And Noctis knows enough about that to recognize that it’s a problem for Prompto, because Prompto is built. Muscular. Which means most of that weight is just muscle and muscle only.

Noct’s throat constricts. He knows Prompto’s height. He knows how often Prompto works out. And he’s spent enough time with him this week to notice he has barely eaten at all. It’s hard not to draw conclusions. Now he’s just mortified.

And Prompto’s happy expression over this just makes it worse. ]

120? That’s how much I weigh, and my doc has been all over me about it. To gain more weight, not lose it.

[ He drops Prompto’s hands, shoving them into his lap. ]

You’re making yourself sick!

That--

[prompto feels his throat go dry. noctis looks angry, and he's even raised his voice. this isn't the kind of fanfare he was expecting that would roll at his 'victory.' because it is one, in his book, to reach down to an ideal weight in which he can fit a smaller size of trousers, where his arms don't look fat when he rests them against his side, or in which his fingers don't seem like ugly potatoes.]

[noctis wouldn't understand]

It's -- different, between the both of us. I weigh a lot, you -- don't, and that makes sense.

[he doesn't have a good case here, he realizes; it's hard to explain why it is the way it is, for him]

I don’t weigh a lot because I’m sick, Prompto!

[ His blood pressure is high. Hot, even. Because he’s worried, because he loves Prompto and he knows where habits like this can make him end up. So his voice is high, cracking, because he doesn’t know how to handle this. ]

Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you didn’t just shove your hand down your throat to throw up that pizza you ate.

[he makes it sound so ugly--and when prompto's overwhelmed with emotion, he retreats to numbers]

There's 285 calories in a slice of pizza, and I had two, so that's pushing up to 570 in one sitting. I should be doing less than that-- Week one, calories per day: 500. 500. 300. 400. 100. 200. 300.

[he starts listing this, looking at his fingers]

It's worked so far, so I can't just throw it out the window. For week two, it's different, the calories per day: 400. 500. Fast. 150. 200. 400. 350.

[stop him or he'll continue reciting numbers]

[ He looks like Prompto has grown a second head because he might as fucking well have. He’s counting calories like an obsessive tick, going on and on about his intake and what he should have. Without answering him. ]

Answer the goddamn question.

[he finally looks up and he doesn't... look too convincing. he falters, instead, still not answering the question]

You're making it sound worse than it is. It's not like there was any nutritional value to it--

[ And yet, Prompto answers the question all the same. Noctis’ expression goes from angry to just... Shocked. That’s all the confirmation he needed, and now he’s just completely speechless. He’s worried. Ridiculously so, and so of course he’s a bit panicky here, even if it only shows in the softest ways. Just a tiny shift in expression, but his insides are twisting because he’s imagining this escalating.

He does not want to see Prompto in a hospital bed.

But how the hell is he supposed to take care of this? How does he make this stop? Noctis sits there in awe because Prompto is genuinely believing that this isn’t a problem. ]

Prompto...

[ He’s not yelling anymore. He can’t. Noctis just speaks with a cracked voice because this is horrifying. ]

How long have you been maintaining this?

Dunno.

[he very well knows]

I mean, sometimes I totally slip out of the routine. Like, back in August, when reality shifted with the monsters and stuff... uh. I mean, I've been trying to lose weight for years, so it's not like--

[this sounds stupid]

It's fine. I'm not sick or anything. I'm managing my weight.

[ His brow knits, pained, because the more he listens to Prompto, the more he starts to realize that he simply doesn’t see it as a problem. He sees it, genuinely, as him doing the right thing. And that much is obvious. It diverts Noctis’s anger in that he can’t really feel it anymore. He just feels concern. Heavy and thick.

And he sounds it. ]

That’s not how you manage weight. At all. You’re destroying your insides like that.

[ He takes Prompto’s hands again, not forceful or accusatory in the way he does it. It’s caring, concerned, and he’s honestly mortified right now. ]

It’s not fine.

[for prompto's part, he doesn't look entirely convinced by noctis' concern. he feels judged, in a way.]

You're saying that, but you've never been fat.

[ Okay.

He gets it. He can’t be entirely shocked knowing how Prompto feels about his appearance. About his shitty childhood that made him so self conscious. Worries of abandonment, judgment. He’s sure Prompto is seeing this as judgment, and that much is confirmed at the response. And yeah, that pisses him off a bit. And it takes everything in him not to snap. ]

Mind telling me what that has to do with anything?

[ He lets go again, sitting upright. Keep calm. ]

It has everything to do with it.

[noctis would not be able to understand the fatigue from just going to school and back, of feeling so hungry when his lunch wasn't filling enough back in elementary, when he would get tormented by other kids who would give him creative names, or being called the most unattractive person in his grade along with a bunch of other "fat losers" in class. noctis couldn't possibly understand prompto being so hyper aware of the people around him, of figuring out if he's the biggest person in the room and consequently feeling horrible if he was, or judging any other chubby person in the room as ugly and incompetent, consequently himself. noctis would never know of the fear he faced every morning getting up on a weight scale when he reached fourteen and was tired of being judged but didn't know where to even start, simply to fall into a routine of feeling sorry for himself, constantly, of hating that fateful day when it felt like an cold ice bucket got dunked over his head, when he read the number 200 on the scale, and his immediate response to that was to order large fries, soda, and a burger with chicken and an apple pie from the nearest fast food place, utterly hating himself for it and feeling sick to his stomach.]

[noctis could never possibly understand the shame of not wanting to see himself in the mirror when he first did go to the gym; of scrutinizing every aspect of his body, of hating how he looks, of taking sixty selfies before settling on just one that makes him look thinner; of hiding away his remorse in eating by pretending intolerance to dairy, fake it until you make it, remove the offending extra calories from his diet by force or for pretenses.]

[prompto gulps for air, says nothing, but his mind reels, eyes watering at the unkempt emotions he feels over this whole thing; of his complicated feelings towards eating, how much he loves food but feels absolutely disgusted afterwards.]

[noctis could never know just how much a passing comment of "oof, you're heavy," meant to be cute and jokey while picking him up from the couch sent a string of self-deprecating thoughts through him, or how noctis sometimes jokes about how fat he looks in selfies just to tease him, an endless stream of fat. fat. fatfatfatfat. FAT. chanting in his head until he's finally able to go to sleep, every glance at food a guilty reminder of just how fat and disgusting he is.]

[his pinched thighs are a secret, now that winter allows excuses for long trousers at all times, where his stretch marks rise from, of prompto pinching himself at night, in bed, tears in his eyes, cursing his body for being so ugly, so unforgivably fat--]

[he's trembling at this point, hands locked in a grip onto his jeans]

You just will never get it. You're fortunate to be your weight and never worry about getting fat.

[having a boyfriend so good looking who doesn't even try and barely gets a pimple for his shitty poor choices-- man, it must be so easy.]

I'm doing fine.

[ Well that... Hurts.

Noctis seems a bit put off from that— He’s spent the better parts of his life ridiculously ill. Pronounced dead twice in his life. Given little choice in anything because he’d been hooked up to machines. He would like to think he might get it more than most but...

Eventually, Noctis comes to a point where he sees very clearly that they’re discussing two completely different perspectives. Sure, he’s never been heavy, but he’s never been where he should be either. And it’s not a way of life that he enjoys, and he’s sure that deep down, Prompto knows that. Because he’s seen the ugly sides of Noctis’ situation, and he stayed despite all that.

Maybe that’s what this is for Prompto. He can’t see clearly because he’s never had to talk about this before. Because he sees himself differently compared to how Noctis sees him. Noct sees himself as imperfect and burdensome, but Prompto finds him perfect and without worry for his physical appearance. Noctis has always perceived Prompto as well out of his league. So... He starts to get it. So he doesn’t allow himself to be angry, and he realizes that he can’t. Cant argue either.

So, he softens, looking down at Prompto’s hands wringing at his jeans and he reaches forward again, simply putting his hands over them. ]

Forcing yourself to puke and not eating means you’re not fine.

But okay.

Help me get it, and I’ll help you any way I can.

[prompto is ready for noctis to argue with him, to get into a fight that's going to blow out of proportions, and maybe that's it; this would be it, the end of their relationship, lasted two fucking months before prompto managed to find a way to let all his stupid insecurities surface and ruin everything--]

[but noctis doesn't.]

[noctis... puts his hands over his instead, and prompto's eyes widen in surprise, the fight leaving him. his heart hurts--so much, at the words coming out of his mouth.]

[(deep inside, prompto knows that what he's doing is unhealthy, but he doesn't know a better way around it; deep inside, he's hurting, hoping for the recognition, for someone to tell him that it's okay, that he's ought to stop, that they'll help)]

[he bends over at his middle, holding tight onto noctis' hands and placing his head over them, trying so desperately not to start crying. taking a gulp of air, he sits up again, sits closer, and just puts his arms around noctis, forehead against the crook of his neck. this is helpful. to be allowed that safe space, that room to just--speak, worries set aside over reprimand or anger... it's what he's always wanted and needed.]

[so prompto starts, explains to noctis all about it; about his early childhood memories, of all the torment he received at school, at home, by others and himself. of all the stupid thoughts in his head of self-deprecation and judgement, and how no matter how much weight he's lost now, he still can't really bear to look at himself in the mirror in the gym. there's always some imperfection, something wrong, something worth judging him about]

[when he's done, he's speaking softly, in whispers, voice wet and sniffling, rubbing at his face and nervously shaking, the heaviness he's been carrying with him for years ever present, not so easily lifted.]

--and I, really love food a lot. I miss just -- eating, and not worrying, and, fuck, I miss cheese and hot chocolate, but it's calorie heavy...

Edited 2017-12-27 03:03 (UTC)

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