Shikamaru spent years drilling it into Chouji that anyone who judged him by weight is stupid. And that a girl should like him for all of his wonderful qualities - Shikamaru had spent lots of time listing them – and all of him. That she shouldn't try to change him, any of him. He has spent a lifetime, over and over trying to show Chouji that he is worth something. So when Chouji turns them down, one after another, Shikamaru appears.
"You aren't still hung up on that weight thing, are you?" Leaning against the door in his Chuunin vest, the lazy genius speaks in a slow drawl around the cigarette in his mouth. His eyes take in the messy state of Chouji's normally immaculate room, and more worryingly, the bag of uneaten crisps.
"I like men."
Shikamaru had planned for this.
"As long as you don't like the Uchicha bastard, that's fine. Ino'd never forgive you."
Chouji snorts, but it is a weak imitation of the humor of his friend.
"There are other gay shinobi."
Shikamaru has a plan for this too. He will make his teammate happy, no matter what. Find him a nice young man, if that is his preference. He will make him happy because he was unable to do it for himself.
"There are-" He begins again, but the statement dies on his lips, when Chouji is no longer a lump in the bed, but standing before him, anguish in his eyes.
"Not who lust after their teammate."
This is something Shikamaru has not planned for. It throws a wrench into everything, all his plans. Still, he replies.
"Yes there is."
Chouji snorts, and there is no amusement in it at all as he stares at the floorboards, frame shaking with unshed tears. And for once in his life, Shikamaru throws plans to the wind, and lets emotion and not strategy guide him.
"There's me for starters."
And Chouji looks up.
And suddenly, Shikamaru has a new plan.
A plan that involves him.
And Chouji.
And happily ever after.