CW Ch. 1: Purging referenced but no one actually has an eating disorder.

-x-

Zen stared into the full length bathroom mirror, scrupulously inspecting every inch of his form. This in itself wasn't unusual at all – staying on top of his looks was part of his job after all, not to mention the confidence boost it typically gave him. He might not be the smartest, richest, cutest, or the most sensible of all his friends...but he was damn sure the best looking. Whatever his faults, at least he had that.

Except this time he wasn't looking for reassurance. Instead of smiling at the beauty in front of him, his lips turned down, brows furrowed as he picked apart anything that could even remotely resemble a flaw. His pores looked a little bigger than usual, didn't they? Maybe his bangs could use a trim? Was he losing definition in his abs? Less beer, more cardio?

Zen sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration. None of that was true and he knew it. He was as impeccably maintained as ever, yet...there had to be something, right? There had to be some reason why MC wouldn't have sex with him anymore.

He didn't think anything of it the first night she turned him down, or the second, or the third. She was tired, and he understood. The RFA parties had gotten progressively larger in the two years since she'd joined, and the most recent one had been bigger than even those Rika had organized. Coordinating that party was enough work to constitute a full-time job, except she had one of those too. After all day at the trust fund kid's company, and all night party planning, it was no wonder she was too run-down to be intimate. His worry for her overshadowed his sexual frustration by a mile, so he backed off. He didn't want to make her feel guilty on top of everything else.

It was a long few weeks leading up to that party, but sure enough it went off without a hitch. They'd raised an absurd amount of money, made more connections than ever before, and positioned the RFA as a serious player in the philanthropy world. MC had been absolutely flawless that night, all bright smiles and long legs, flitting around between guests so effortlessly she made even the CEO-in-line look awkward in comparison.

God, he wanted her.

When they got home he tried to show her how much, letting his hands trail up those incredible legs of hers, pressing hot kisses along the curve of her throat. He'd been so relieved when she kissed him back, when he felt the sharp bite of her fingernails digging into his shoulders, when she let out one of those breathy little gasps that drove him crazy with need. As soon as he began to fumble with the zipper of her dress though, she stopped him. Cut him off entirely. Not tonight, Zenny. I'm so tired. Tomorrow, okay?

As disappointed – and painfully hard – as he was, he still didn't question her. Their sex life had been amazing up to this point, and now that the party was over he was eagerly anticipating getting back to that. But when tomorrow came and went, and the next day, and the next...the doubt began to slowly creep in.

Was she just...getting sick of him?

Zen froze, watching his own eyes widen in horror as the thought skittered across his mind. Was that it? They'd been together long enough that they'd fallen into a comfortable routine, knew everything about each other. Did that bore her? If he hadn't changed, then maybe she did...

The sound of her key in the front door jerked him back, saved him from going too far down that rabbit hole. He shook his head to clear it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head and stepping out of the bathroom.

"Hey babe," he called, announcing himself as he walked towards the living room. It was a habit he'd picked up to put her at ease. She'd never admit it, especially to Saeyoung, but Zen knew she still carried some anxiety from Saeran breaking into her apartment way back when. Jump scares hit her way harder than they should.

"Help!" she squeaked, followed by several soft thumping sounds. Zen turned the corner to see her struggling with two paper grocery bags, apples tumbling out onto the ground as one of the bags slowly ripped down the seam. He rushed over and took the bags from her, and she shot him a grateful smile as she bent down to pick up the fallen produce.

"Ugh, thanks. I'm all for saving the environment, but seriously, fuck paper bags," she grumbled, leaning in to kiss his cheek as she dumped the apples into the undamaged bag. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good I guess," Zen replied, carrying the bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counter. "Rehearsal went well. Still wish I was playing the lead, but..." he trailed off with a shrug.

MC shot him a sympathetic smile. "You'll get it next time," she assured him as she began to put the groceries away.

Zen opened his mouth to ask her about her day, but no sound came out as all of his attention was immediately diverted to the sight of her shirt riding up as she reached to put a box in the overhead cabinet. Some small part of his brain was mocking himself over the fact that a two inch gap of midriff hit him as hard as a strip tease, but well...it did. She just looked so good like that, body taut and stretched and vulnerable...it was way too easy to imagine his hand wrapped around her wrists, holding her in place as he explored her body, pushed her up against the counter, had her in all the ways he'd been starved of lately.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Zen had moved behind her, pressing himself along the length of her back and wrapping his arms around her. She hummed happily, and encouraged by the sound, he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck, hands sneaking under the hem of her shirt to feel the softness of her skin.

As soon as his hands brushed against her stomach MC stiffened, pulling away as abruptly as if he'd burned her. Zen froze as the heavy weight of rejection crushed him once again.

"I...what..." he stammered, unsure what question he was even trying to voice. He hadn't even done anything sexual. He'd just touched her. Did she not even want his touches anymore?

Did she not want him anymore?

MC winced as she took in the hurt and confusion on his face, but still took a step backwards anyway – like she was trying to escape.

"I just...don't like that right now," she said, unable to meet his gaze. "Sorry."

Zen swallowed hard. He probably shouldn't press further – he wasn't sure he could handle the answer – but the question burst out of his mouth before he could reign it in. "Why not?"

"I don't know, I just don't," she said, shaking her head dismissively. The flush creeping up her cheeks told a different story, however.

"Bullshit," he challenged. He felt like an asshole for it, but he needed answers.

MC blinked up at him in surprise, then frowned. "What do you want me to say Zen?"

"The truth."

He caught a flash of embarrassed anger in her eyes before she turned her head sharply, crossing her arms against her chest defensively.

"Because I'm getting fat Zen! Okay? My fucking pants don't even fit anymore and I feel like shit about it. Is that what you wanted to hear?" she spat, voice cracking at the end.

She didn't give him a chance to answer, turning on her heel and running out of the apartment as soon as the words left her lips. Honestly, he wasn't sure he would have been able to answer her even if she had stayed. In all of the scenarios he had imagined, that one had never come close to entering his mind, and Zen's brain couldn't seem to process her words until several minutes after she was gone.

MC thought she was fat? What the hell?

Besides the fact that she was decidedly not fat, Zen was completely bewildered by why she would react that way even if she was putting on weight. She was beautiful, so incredibly beautiful inside and out. He didn't give a shit if she gained a few pounds, or lost a few pounds, or cut all her hair off, or grew a third nipple. He loved her more than anything or anyone. That wasn't going to change over something so trivial.

Didn't she know how gorgeous she was? Didn't she know how desperately he wanted her?

Their arguments didn't often escalate to the point where one of them stormed out of the house, but on the rare occasion that she did, MC had a very specific pattern of behavior. She would walk to the convenience store – not the closest one, but the second closest; the one that sold strawberry milk. She'd buy her milk and a packet of honey butter almonds – which she insisted were better than the chips, much to Seven's dismay – and scarf them both on her walk back home. The whole event took around half an hour, which was just enough time for the sugar and exercise to chase off the worst of the negativity and let them talk normally.

It was also just enough time for Zen to down a beer or two – and, if things were really bad, sneak off to the roof for a cigarette. And then brush his teeth vigorously so she wouldn't find out about it. They'd established very early on in their relationship that smoking was one bad habit she wouldn't tolerate.

Knowing this routine, Zen waited for MC to return home, respecting her need for space. 20 minutes passed. 30. 40.

At the 45 minute mark, he got worried enough to spam her phone.

She didn't answer his calls. She didn't respond to his texts. He started to pull his shoes on, ready to go look for her, when he decided to check the RFA chat just in case. She probably wouldn't be there, not if she was avoiding him, but maybe one of the others had talked to her.

Seven was the only one online, lighting up the chat with plans for a new "investment opportunity" for Jumin. Zen would normally have rolled his eyes and indulged in Seven's trolling, if only to annoy the trust fund jerk, but today he had more important things on his mind.

ZEN: have you talked to MC in the last hour?
707: Well helloooo to you too~!
707: and no, not since this morning.
707: why?

Zen swore under his breath, glancing nervously at the time. It had been over an hour since she left now, and it was rapidly getting dark outside. If she just wanted to avoid him, fine, but he had to know she was safe.

Zen abruptly left the chat, and pulled up his contacts list.

"Uh...what's up Zen?" the hacker answered, confused enough to drop the teasing tones he usually answered the phone with.

"Can you hack MC's phone?"

"Errr...I mean, I can, but I try not to hack our members. Why, what's going on?"

"We got in a fight and she left. But she should have been back by now. She's always back by now," Zen said, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. "It's getting dark and I'm worried something happened to her."

Seven didn't respond right away, and Zen sighed. "Look, I'm not asking you to spy on her for me. I don't need any details. Just tell me if she's okay or not. Please, Saeyoung?"

There was another moment of silence before Seven groaned obnoxiously. "Ugh, fiiiiiine. Hang on."

The distinct sound of keys clicking filtered through the phone, and not even 90 seconds later Seven snorted in amusement.

"She's fine. Jaehee sent a car to pick her up," he said, crunching on what Zen assumed was a handful of honey butter chips. "I take it they aren't gonna be watching your DVD's at this sleepover then?"

Zen released the breath he'd been holding. "No, probably not," he agreed, the sweet relief flowing through him worth every bit of Seven's teasing. If she was with Jaehee, there was nothing to worry about. "Thanks man. I owe you one."

"You actually owe me 72, but who's counting?"

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon by the time Zen finally succumbed to a fitful rest on the couch, where he'd kept vigil all night waiting for her to come home. As much as it relieved him to know she was safe, he was still anxious to clear the air between them. The more he thought about what she had said, the more it bothered him. He hated the idea that she thought she was unattractive – that she thought he would find her unattractive – and he just wanted her here so he could prove how utterly wrong she was.

A familiar scent infiltrated his dreams, warm and comforting as it gently tugged him back to consciousness. He yawned, stretching his stiff limbs and blinking slowly at his surroundings. Zen was never a morning person, and it showed in how long it took his brain to transition from the land of dreams back into the real world. That's right, he'd slept on the couch because he was waiting for...MC...

The events of the previous night hit him like a slap to the face, and he stood abruptly when he realized that the smell of coffee brewing meant she'd finally come home. Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, he hurried into the kitchen to greet her.

Except when he entered, she wasn't there. "MC?" he called, looking around the space in confusion.

He hadn't been imagining things – the coffee machine was running, and a half-eaten piece of toast sat on the counter, so she was definitely here somewhere. Well, either that or he was being robbed by a very casual, very hungry thief. Somehow he doubted it was the latter.

He called again when she didn't reply, walking down the hallway towards their bedroom. He thought maybe she was changing her clothes, but a strange noise had him stopping in front of the bathroom door instead.

"MC?" he asked, knocking once.

"Yeah it's me, hang – " she began, but was cut off by a choking heave followed by a telltale splash. He'd been exposed to enough drunken benders in his life to recognize what was happening, and his brows furrowed in concern. Was she sick? She'd seemed fine last night.

Last night. An insidious thought crept into his mind, and his face paled. He remembered the look on her face when she had said she was getting fat, the shameful tears pricking her eyes as she ran out of the house. She had been so upset about her body, and now she was in the bathroom throwing up.

Working in an industry where physical appearances were so important, he knew very well the lengths some women went to to lose weight. The thought of his girl doing something like that made his own stomach lurch.

His body acted before he could think better of it, shoving the door open in sudden panic. MC was slumped over the toilet bowl, wide, watery eyes staring up at him in abject horror.

"Babe! Are you okay? Are you sick?" he blurted out, silently praying she'd say yes. Sick he could handle. Sick was better than...than that.

"Zen, get out of – "

Ignoring her choked demand, Zen scrambled to sweep her hair back from her face as the next wave overtook her. He smoothed circles on her back with his other hand as she emptied the meager contents of her stomach into the bowl, murmuring words of comfort until it passed.

"Please leave Zen. I don't want you to see me like this," she pleaded, hiding her face in embarrassment.

"I don't care about that. If you're sick I want to help you feel better," he argued.

"I'm not sick."

Zen swallowed hard as he silently watched her splash her face and rinse her mouth. If she wasn't sick then...then...

After a moment that felt like hours, MC finally turned around, looking up at him through dark lashes. "I'm not sick," she repeated slowly, her lips quirking up into a shy smile. "I'm pregnant."

Every awful thought barreling through Zen's head came to an abrupt halt as his brain shut down entirely, woefully unequipped to process those two words. Pregnant? Like...pregnant pregnant? With a baby?

His baby. He made a baby. Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck.

"I never considered it since I'm on the pill, but...well, nothing's 100% effective right?" she continued, fidgeting nervously as she rambled. "Jaehee brought it up as a possibility when I told her how shitty I've been feeling lately, so I took a test this morning and...yeah."

She shrugged lightly, like there was nothing more to say. He guessed there really wasn't – the word pregnant itself pretty much summed up everything he needed to know – but his head was still spinning, mouth opening and closing uselessly with no sound getting out. Say something, idiot!

"You're not...upset, are you?" she asked finally, unable to stand his silence any longer.

"Upset?" he repeated, the sudden worry in her eyes snapping him back to his senses. "No, god no! I'm just...I'm gonna be..."

"A daddy," she supplied, her smile widening on the word.

Something powerful welled up inside him, a sweet ache in his chest that he could barely breathe around. Nothing could ever be more beautiful than she was in that moment, smiling at him like sunshine incarnate as she carried the most precious gift she could ever give him. He thought his heart would burst with the force of his love for her.

She was an angel. An absolute fucking angel, sent here just for him.

Zen's face lit up like fireworks, taking her face in both his hands and enthusiastically kissing every inch of it as she dissolved into giggles.

When she'd been thoroughly ravished, he pressed his forehead to hers. "Say it again," he whispered, tentatively running his fingers over the slight swell of her belly.

"You're gonna be a daddy," she repeated, eyes softer than he had ever seen them before.

"How did I ever get so lucky?"