Michael was in his and Gavin's apartment bathroom, the latter of who was currently out doing errands. His shirt laid on the floor and he was scrutinizing himself in the mirror, brown eyes nearly brimming with tears.
"Look at you, you fat little FUCK! You disgust me!"
It all started with pants. He had tried to put a pair of pants on this morning and had failed. The waist was too tight, the button not connecting to the other side.
He had gotten too comfortable with Gavin, letting his boyfriend spoil him with his amazing cooking and spending most nights cuddling with him on the couch.
Now, he had a disgusting stomach popping its way out of Michael, mocking him. He punched the wall, bruising his fist against the solid structure and cursing loudly.
No, he wasn't going to let himself turn into a disgusting slob. No way in Hell! He snarled at himself in the mirror. Maybe he could just puke it all up?
He pondered it. It wasn't ideal; he had a pretty regular gag reflex though, so it was definitely possible. It was easy to do, he assumed, but the thought of sticking something down his throat made him wary.
A glance down at his chubby figure gave him the resolve he needed and he got on his knees in front of the porcelain bowl.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." He mumbled, raising a shaking hand. He took in a deep breath, bracing himself before slowly sticking a finger down his throat. He gagged around it slightly but persisted until he could feel the bile rising.
He wretched over the toilet, spilling his guts out. The stomach acid burned his throat and he was surprised with how much it hurt.
"F-fuck!" He spat out after he was done, wiping his mouth. He flushed the toilet before turning back to the mirror.
There was no difference in his appearance except that he was slightly paler, but Michael was proud.
He felt thinner already.
-
Michael began to skip eating breakfast and lunch. He was only eating the bare minimum for dinner to make sure he didn't alarm Gavin, puking it up later at night when the Brit was fast asleep.
He was losing weight, much to his glee. The pants were much less snug, almost fitting right again. Sure, he felt a little woozy, but it was totally worth it.
About a week in and Michael had lost nearly ten pounds. He walked into the work office with little enthusiasm; it wasn't because he wasn't excited, he just felt really tired the past couple days. He wasn't sure why, but assumed he just wasn't getting enough sleep.
Gavin had been giving him weird looks, too.
'He must see how thin I'm getting.' Michael thought with a small smile as he sat at his desk.
"Hey, Michael. Are you okay?" Geoff questioned a couple hours before lunch.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Gavin turned to face him as well, cocking an eyebrow.
"You look kinda pale. Are you sick?" Geoff persisted, a frown forming on his face.
"Nah, I feel awesome. A bit tired though. I'll just take a nap when I get home." Michael gave a reassuring grin to the both of them and everyone returned to their work.
When lunch rolled around, Gavin asked Michael if he was coming, as he had for the entirety of the week, receiving the same answer.
"Nah, Gav. I'm really behind on work. I'm just gonna munch on some stuff here; you go on ahead." Gavin gave him a weird look but kissed him good-bye anyways, leaving with the others to get some food. Michael's stomach rumbled but he ignored it. He was in a perpetual state of hunger, but he only used it to fuel himself. He figured that the emptier he felt, the quicker he was losing weight.
He actually had no work to do, having caught up quite easily throughout the week, so he decided to curl up on the couch for a nap.
He was shaken awake by a giggling Ray much later. "Dude, glad to see you're working hard. Then again, maybe you needed that nap. You look like total shit." Ray cocked his head to the side, expression changing from sarcastic to concerned.
"M'fine. I'm just tired, is all." Michael mumbled, grateful to see that Ray had awoken him before anyone else returned.
"Ah, old Vav keeping you up late, eh?" He winked and went to his desk, chuckling at Michael's curse-riddled rebuddle.
The next day, Gavin and Michael were off work.
"Mi-cool, it's noon. Do you want to get up and eat breakfast?" Gavin rubbed his eyes sleepily, smiling at his boyfriend.
"S-sure.." Michael grumbled, sitting up. There was no getting around eating, not on days off with an excellent chef.
"I'll make pancakesss." Gavin sang, hopping out of bed with a goofy grin. Michael couldn't help but chuckle as he got up to follow the man that had already skipped out of the room. He stumbled slightly, nearly falling over before he regained his footing. He shook his head to clear it but that only made it feel fuzzier.
He stopped in the bathroom, ignoring the mirror as he used the toilet and went to join Gavin in the kitchen. The Brit already had a few pancakes made and was putting on another.
"How many do you want, love?" Gavin asked, turning to kiss Michael quickly. Michael wrapped his arms around Gavin's hips, placing little pecks to his neck.
"Just two. I'm not all that hungry." He had thought about the number he would ask for and decided that asking for one pancake would be way too suspicious.
"Okay then. Go ahead and take those two." He gestured with the spatula at the couple he already made before turning back to the stove and humming to himself.
"Um okay." Michael eyed the pancakes with shameful hunger, grabbing them and scarfing them down quicker than he had intended.
Gavin chuckled. "Are you sure you don't want more, love? You seem rather hungry. And you're getting pretty thin." Michael perked up at the last part; he was lying and Michael knew it. He was fat and gross.
"Nah, I'm good. I just happen to be dating the best chef in the world." He said, planting another kiss on the blushing Brit's lips. He felt better and less woozy now. "I'll be right back. I forgot to brush my teeth." He mumbled, leaving to the bathroom.
He shut the door behind him and turned on the water to block out the sound before shoving his finger down his throat and spilling the contents of his recently-consumed breakfast into the toilet. He gagged as he flushed it down, brushing his teeth quickly afterwards. He looked into the mirror and pulled up his shirt, disgusted.
"God you're revolting." He growled before leaving the bathroom. He would have to try harder.
-
A couple weeks later and the change in Michael was evident. His face was sunken and pale with dark circles under his eyes. He didn't talk very much and walked rather sluggishly; he had lost wait at an alarming rate, beginning to resemble a skeleton. Gavin was a wreck with worry.
The Brit had tried to sit down and talk to Michael many times, but was constantly brushed off by the angry Jersey boy.
Everyone at work had noticed, too; they just didn't know what to do. When they too confronted Michael, they were met with the same response as when Gavin did.
On Wednesday, Michael felt absolutely dreadful.
He sat at his desk, staring at the computer that wasn't even turned on. Hunger was destroying him and he felt extremely tired. His vision kept blurring on and off and he didn't seem capable of speech. A couple hours into work, black spots started to appear in his sight and moving became really difficult.
"Michael, we really need to talk. This has gone on long enough." Geoff finally said. Michael just stared at him. He hadn't really heard anything, just noise. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Maybe he just needed a drink of water. He stood up and immediately fell over. The last thing he heard before everything went black was muffled yelling from all sides.
-
Darkness was pressing down on Michael, suffocating him. He tried to breathe but couldn't, choking and retching on nothing. He struggled to move but failed, as if he were held down by invisible bonds. He screamed for Gavin, hearing and seeing nothing.
"Michael? Michael, are you awake?" He knew that voice. Not by mind, but by heart. He fluttered his eyes open with much difficulty, seeing puffy green eyes looking back at him.
"Gav." Michael whispered, a small smile on his face. There was an IV in his arm and he grimaced at it. He hated needles.
Relief spread across the Brit's face, quickly replaced with anger. He hit Michael on the arm with surprising strength.
"Ow, wha-"
"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Gavin yelled, throwing his hands into the air angrily. Michael was taken aback by the ferocity of Gavin's anger, stunned into silence. "Why in bloody Hell would you do that? What the fuck made you think that you could just not eat? Huh?" He was fuming, running a hand through his light brown hair in frustration.
"I.. Gavin, I was disgusting. I just wanted to look normal." Michael pleaded, shocked that Gavin couldn't understand. The younger man's eyes widened.
"You were beautiful! You've always been beautiful, you stupid donut! I love everything about you. Who the fuck told you that you weren't perfect? Because they were dirty liars." Gavin was passionate, moving his hands as he spoke as he did when he was really into something.
"I didn't need anyone to tell me, Gavin. It was obvious." Michael looked away, brow furrowed. He felt soft fingers on his face and his head was being led back to Gavin's earnest eyes.
"Michael Vincent Jones, you are perfect in every way. I fell in love with you because of who you are. The fact that you're sexy as fuck was just a bonus, you mong." He placed a kiss to Michael's forehead making the older man smile.
Michael was released from the hospital after another day and was kept under close watch. For the next month, every meal was monitored, making sure he ate enough and kept it down. Soon he was at a healthy size, only a couple pounds less than what he was to start with.
He felt like a child and that kinda pissed him off. He was old enough to make right decisions. Sure, he had messed up, but he didn't want to be that unhealthy again, and he definitely didn't want to hurt Gavin anymore.
They started to let up on him after a while, finally, and he continued to eat healthily.
Gavin started to cook more healthy, too, cutting out foods that had high fat in hopes of making Michael happy with better options.
But Michael still felt bad about his appearance. He sighed as he looked at himself shirtless in the full-body mirror. His forehead was creased as he patted the stomach he had tried desperately to rid himself of at a dangerous cost.
He didn't even realize Gavin was watching him from the doorway until the younger man's arms were around his waist, rubbing his little tummy.
"Gavin, no. Don't touch that." Michael squirmed but Gavin only grinned at him through the mirror, pulling him closer.
"Hello, my beautiful boy. You look very sexy." Gavin growled, resting his hands on Michael's hips. He nibbled on Michael's neck and ground against the Jersey boy, who gasped loudly in return.
"Fuck Gavin, what are you-"
"Shhhh." Gavin quieted him, undoing Michael's pants and letting them fall to his feet. He palmed Michael's forming erection through the boxers he currently wore, continuing to grind into him from behind.
"F-fuck, Gavin." Michael moaned, leaning back into his boyfriend.
Gavin freed Michael's cock, thumbing the slit.
"Damn, baby." Michael groaned, closing his eyes in pleasure.
"Watch." Gavin growled in a demanding tone, making Michael's brown eyes snap open. Gavin winked at him through the mirror before attacking his neck with kisses and bites. He began to rub Michael's erection at an even pace, and the older man couldn't keep his eyes off of the sight. Gavin watched Michael watch him jerk him off, grinning.
"You're beautiful." He whispered, quickening his pace. Michael moaned in return, rubbing his ass against Gavin's clothed dick.
"I-i'm close." Michael whimpered, watching more intently.
"Cum for me, my little Mi-cool." Gavin bit Michael's neck hard as the older man came on his hand. Michael panted, resting his head back on Gavin.
The Brit turned his love around and kissed him passionately.
"You're perfect, and don't you ever fucking forget that." Gavin said, nuzzling Michael's neck.
And suddenly, Michael believed him.