Warning for eating disorder among other things!

"So how'd it go?" Even over the phone, Chie sounded eager to hear how the night before had gone. She barely asked if Yosuke was feeling well after taking a day off before she jumped into the juicy details, noting how she saw Souji leave school in a rush and turning down offers to hang out after school. "Did you tell him?"

Yosuke sighed, closing his eyes and flopping an arm over his face. He'd spent the afternoon and most of the evening doing everything he could to not think about last night or this afternoon or his confession.

Yosuke had spent the rest of the evening curled in Souji's arms on his bed, his headphones pulled on and listening to music quietly. Normally people would consider it rude, but Souji had seemed to understand, distracting himself with gentle touches and soft kisses.

But it was bittersweet; he knew Souji and he would never be more, and he didn't want to hear that Yosuke loved him ever again. His heart ached with every brush of the boy's fingers against his cheek or sweep of hair from his face. At least before he confessed, he could pretend that Souji felt the same way, especially when he touched him like that and looked at him like that and kissed him like that.

But the image of him and Souji had shattered and what was left was the harsh reality. He was just something to do on the side, and nothing more.

Instead of dwelling on it until he got to a point of no return, he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused solely on Souji. Souji's eyes, Souji's skin, Souji's lips, his hands, his neck, chest, voice, breathing, heartbeat... all of it. And eventually, he was no longer thinking of the rejection anymore, because he was still allowed to focus on all these things, still allowed to touch and kiss him and tell him he lo-

Well... that last one he couldn't.

"Yosuke? You still there?" Chie's tinny voice snapped him back, and he heard her swear under her breath, "God, I hate my phone..."

"Y-yeah, sorry." He scrubbed his face with his free hand, groaning quietly at getting lost in his thoughts. Again. "I'm still here."

"Well, then, how'd it go!" He could practically hear Chie chewing on her lip in anticipation. He knew the real reason why she wanted this all to work out: so she could get her best friend back and Souji would stop hurting her. He was actually surprised she hadn't kicked his ass yet or spilled the beans; he couldn't imagine she'd actually be doing any of this for him. He was the other man and was the last one that deserved any sympathy. "Did you tell him?"

He stayed silent for a minute longer, worrying his lip between his teeth and debating whether he should admit his rejection or just flat out lie. "Y-yeah..." Chie hadn't done anything that would merit her anything short of the truth.

"You don't sound so thrilled..." Her voice dropped and he inwardly winced, closing his eyes and sighing to fill up the deafening silence between them. "I'm really sorry, Yosuke."

"It's okay. It'll... it'll be okay." After all, Souji hadn't... well, not dumped him because they're not in a relationship, but yeah, dumped him. He was still allowed to be with him, but only... physically? He could just keep his emotions to himself, right? Yeah, it'll be alright. If he continued on like it never happened, he could still do whatever it is that would make Souji love him.

Right?

"You'll find someone else, don't worry." Huh? "You're a great guy, Yosuke. I know I don't say it a whole lot, but..." she laughed quietly on the other end, "I love you, 'kay? Rejection happens to the best of us, you just gotta keep fighting."

"Chie, I-"

"Don't expect me to say it again!" She spluttered. "I just don't want you feeling down about this."

Yosuke stayed silent. She thought that Yosuke had been dumped? He didn't want to lie, but his tongue tangled itself into the words "Yeah, thanks..."

He felt a twinge in his chest when he heard Chie's sigh of relief. Weren't they supposed to be close? Hadn't she been supporting him when he hadn't deserved it, when he was hurting her best friend? His stomach lurched and he felt his throat tighten, barely having enough time to excuse himself, throwing his phone on his bed and scrambling across his bedroom floor for his wastebasket, heaving his breakfast, lunch, and dinner on the small mound of paper balls and snack bags inside.

It just kept coming, his stomach kept wringing itself dry and he could feel the sting at the back of his eyes from it turning inside out.

Souji dating Yukiko. Lurch. Souji kissing him. Heave. Souji sneaking around with him. Tug. Souji slapping him. Flip. Souji sleeping with him. Gag. Souji standing him up. Sob. Souji –

I'm not yours to have, I was never yours –

- rejecting him.

All of it came rushing back, the last few months, like his meals had come rushing up his throat and into the can. When there was nothing left to rid himself of, there were no images flashing in front of his eyes like a projector gone haywire, Yosuke collapsed back, holding his face in his shaking hands and crying quietly.

His stomach hurt, worse so with every wracking sob, but his whole body seemed to ache with a dull pain that coursed through his veins, from his jumping heart to the tips of his fingers.

He knew what it was, but he dared not say it. The last thing he wanted to admit now was this.

He wasn't heartbroken. He was just broken.

Yosuke knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, but this was ridiculous. He'd suspect Chie had told the others about what happened, but he quickly rid himself of that thought; Chie wasn't him, she would never do something to hurt another friend.

But that only meant Souji told everyone, and he knew that that hadn't happened. Regardless of whether everyone knew or not, they all treated him like he was... fragile.

Handle Yosuke carefully. Glass-boned Yosuke, paper-skinned Yosuke. Porcelain Yosuke.

Porcelain was probably the best way to describe him after the day before, although he hadn't come to this realization yet. He was fragile, like those fancy porcelain dolls he'd see in an antique shop's window in his old neighbourhood. Just as delicate, as empty, and, as of late, pale. When he looked in the mirror, he was met with the same sad, glassy eyes that used to stare at him when he walked home.

His appetite lately had been waning, and what he was able to get down didn't always stay down for long. Especially if he saw Souji and Yukiko, or thought of them, or thought of his and Souji's argument, or sometimes just thinking of Souji period.

He needed Souji, so bad it ached and would turn his stomach over knowing he couldn't have him, didn't have him. He felt so empty, his chest just a hollowed out cavern, nothing but moths – not butterflies, no, that was saved for happy lovers - fluttering against his ribcage that made him want to hurl again when they incessantly tickled his stomach.

He never had Souji. And that thought was more painful than if they had never done anything in the first place. He had stupidly thought that if he told him the truth, that that would magically fix everything and Souji would love him back and they'd be so happy together, but that shit only happened in fairy tales.

Yosuke had come to hate fairy tales. The beautiful princess always got the hero. Yukiko got Souji. Yosuke wasn't the main character; he was the stable boy, the hero's apprentice, the friend that tried to convince the hero the princess wasn't worth the journey. He was the frog.

He hated to admit it, but he began to hate Yukiko, too. Inaba's beautiful princess finally got her prince and Yosuke, with the luck he had, was left a frog. What did she have that he didn't? A well-loved business? Traditional family? Pretty face? Hot body? A fucking pussy?

Souji'd made the wise choice, though. Who would ever choose him over her? No one. He was just lucky that he was even allowed to be friends with him, still allowed to be with him in a way. It was a damn miracle he'd been Souji's first.

"You're special, you know?" Souji's lips pulled up into a half smile before placing themselves at Yosuke's temple, pulling the other closer and burying his face in the feathery brown mess.

"No I'm not..." Yosuke blushed, clutched a little tighter to the boy's sleeve, breathing out a small laugh. "I'm just your average, ol' teenage boy."

"No..." Souji hummed softly, his breath ruffling the soft strands. "You're different... Never met anyone like you, felt this way..."

Souji couldn't choose him, no... that wasn't acceptable in this community. Not when it was someone as perfect as Yukiko as the other contender.

But... god, he'd never loved Yosuke. Or...

What had Yosuke done? Did he do something wrong that steered Souji away? It was Rise wasn't it, when he stupidly decided to make Souji jealous. Or maybe he was too clingy. Maybe he just wasn't good in bed – that's all they seemed to do that was outside the boundaries of friendship.

He could be better. Do better. Do whatever it was that Souji wanted, and he hoped, prayed that that would make Souji love him back.

He just couldn't help but feel like it was hopeless, but he had to make the effort.

It was just so damn hard when he was subjected to the stomach curdling sight of Yukiko in his lap, giggling away while trying to teach him how to fold the napkins the way they do at the inn at lunch. He could barely look up from his untouched bento, staring down quietly and picking at it, eating a grain of rice here, a nibble of meat there, rolling vegetables over and over again until he was sure he saw them at every angle.

Chie tried engaging him in a conversation about music to get his mind off, and even Kanji tried to cheer him up by setting himself up for an absolute ton of jokes that his senpai would normally have jumped on. Yosuke didn't hear them though, could only hear Yukiko's soft giggles and Souji's breathy, indecipherable whispers as if each syllable was a shell dropped five feet from him. He couldn't stand it anymore-

- Yukiko's hands gently brushing his, his hands dwarfing hers-

- couldn't stand the thought –

- "You're so beautiful..." –

- the sound –

- "So special..." –

- the sight –

- "love you..."

Yosuke stood up abruptly, his lunch falling out of his lap and onto the concrete floor of the roof – whatever, it was shitty Junes bento - rushed to the door, swinging it open with all his might and flew down the flight of stairs, holding one hand to his mouth to hold it in, hold that stupid grain of rice in, stay down, stay down, please, god, just a little longer...

He threw open the bathroom stall door and fell to his knees, clutching at the toilet bowl and gagging, his stomach trying desperately to rid itself of the black bile that churned inside, but nothing came up, nothing more than spittle that clung to his trembling lower lip until its relentless quivering broke it free.

His eyes stung with the wretching, the pain that came from his stomach trying to dislodge itself from Yosuke's body. Not even his internal organs wanted to stick around with him. His throat tightened and he let out one dry sob, swiping at the tears that dotted the corners of his eyes.

He felt like he was dying. Maybe he was. He hoped he was. He hoped this was all some horrible stomach disease that would leave him dead on the tiled floor in the third story bathroom. He hoped Souji would be the one to find him. Wanted to punish him, punish himself. Souji did this to him, made him sick, made him weak, made him ache with an overwhelming need for someone, for their smiles, their kindness, their touch.

No, it wasn't Souji. He let himself get this way. He'd always relied on others, on their approval, their – ha – love. If it wasn't Souji, it would have been someone else, probably. He was so desperately needy, it made him sick.

No, it wouldn't have been anyone else. Only Souji. He loved Souji. Loved him so much he'd slit his own wrists just to bleed it out, to get that stupid ache he felt run through his veins every time he thought of Souji, how Souji wasn't his. God, he'd step in front of a train if Souji only asked him to.

When his stomach had calmed down, the moths had settled down and clung to his rib cage, and his chest ceased its shaky, inaudible sobs, he washed his face and returned to the roof, not really wanting to, but his feet had a mind of their own. His body made decisions for him now, it didn't matter what he wanted, it never mattered. He just didn't care anymore.

When he returned though, he was met with a small circle of concerned and confused expressions. Chie looked like she was going to start crying, Rise looked like she knew exactly what was going in Yosuke's head, Kanji looked sympathetic – ha, like he deserved any of his kouhai's sympathy – even Yukiko looked like she was worried for his well-being.

Steel eyes stared at him like nothing was wrong though, almost coldly, don't blow this, Yosuke. Souji seemed like he was the only one that couldn't give two shits about him, and suddenly, it didn't matter who cared about him, his friends' concern was thoroughly forgotten, why, why didn't Souji care?

"I-I..." He just stared back, feeling the heat rise, flushed over his neck and pooled in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, the rest of his body feeling numb in comparison. He totally forgot he was in the presence of his other friends. "I-I'm sorry..." He managed to finish, his voice cracking. Souji gave him a sharp look before his eyes darted around to indicate the others were still very much around and still very much listening, and Yosuke noted his fist tightening ever so slightly on his knee.

"I don't think I-I'm feeling very well." He said, tearing his eyes away from Souji to look at his friends.

"Perhaps you should go home, get some rest." Yukiko said quietly. His heart tugged; how could she still be so nice to him, treat him with such kindness, actually be concerned for him when he was hurting her so badly.

"Y-yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, I think I'll do that." He managed a weak smile in the girl's direction and received a gentle one in return, and that only pushed him further down than he already felt.

He wasn't the frog in this story, he was the villain. The evil step-mother, the witch, fucking Gaston or some shit. Souji was the prince that rode in to save the princess, and Yukiko was the victim here. He was bitching and whining about himself, how his heart was broken, how he was sick, how he hated Souji – no, no, love Souji, love him so goddamn much, god... – when he was the villain.

He didn't deserve her kindness. No one's kindness, no one's concern. He wished the ground would just swallow him up and everyone would forget him, Yosuke who?

He turned on his heel, scooping up his school bag and slinging it over his shoulder, not even offering a goodbye to his friends, not even a glance in that direction, mostly out of fear of what he'd see.

He didn't look at his phone even when it buzzed in his pocket – sympathy texts no doubt – and didn't even bother pulling out his umbrella when it began to drizzle. By the time he made it home, his skin was slick and ice cold, but he felt none of it, just kicked off his muddy shoes and trudged upstairs where he collapsed on his bed and stared at his ceiling until the shadows stretched further and further along it and a soft orange glow bathed the room.

"Yosuke?" Teddie's voice was small, his knock soft on the door. Yosuke didn't look up, barely heard him until it was repeated and he let out a small hum. The door creaked open and the small boy poked his head in, Yosuke's eyes darting to his face after another moment of silence. He didn't think he'd ever seen Teddie so serious.

"Yosuke, Chie-chan told me you were sick at school today. Are you okay?" Yosuke shook his head and Teddie stepped further into the room. "I can make you some tea." Another shake of the head; Teddie didn't even know how to make tea anyway, and would probably destroy the kitchen trying.

There was another long stretch of silence, the air thick and heavy in his lungs, but Yosuke didn't move, didn't even tear his eyes away from the ceiling save for when Teddie entered. The other boy shifted from foot to foot anxiously, before his voice, barely above a whisper cut the quiet.

"Yosuke? Are you sad?" Another minute before Yosuke nodded slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Teddie padded over quietly, climbing into his bed next to Yosuke and curling around the boy, pulling him close, one arm slung over him and his small head resting on Yosuke's chest. Yosuke patted his head gently, appreciating the gesture, but it only made his chest tightened.

It still wasn't Souji.

Teddie had left him after about a half hour of stiff silence, and only his mother had poked her head in after that when it was beginning to get dark, saying something about dinner. He only answered her, saying his stomach felt queasy, just so maybe she wouldn't suspect anything more was up, and she left quietly after that.

It turned out she said that her and his father were going to be going out for dinner with some important executives and she was asking if he wanted her to make him anything. He realized this when he heard the car pull out and Teddie whisper through the door he was going to the Dojima residence to play with Nanako-chan. Smart bear, he thought, they'll feed him there.

He only moved when his phone buzzed and he saw the little picture of Souji flash on his screen. He took that without telling Souji, caught him off-guard completely. It was his favourite picture of him...

He let it ring a few times, just staring at it as it slowly moved its way across his table top with every buzz before he reached over and hit the answer button.

"Hello?" His voice was groggy and he cleared his throat quietly.

"I'm outside." Souji said simply, and Yosuke finally sat up. He wanted to ask why, but he didn't really care why, Souji was here. He needed to let him in.

He flew down the stairs and pulled the door open just as quickly to see Souji shake the bit of rain that had fallen in silver strands – he'd apparently closed his umbrella a little early and it was still drizzling out.

"H-hi..." he said a little breathlessly, already leading the other upstairs to his room to talk privately, though no one was home. "What brings you here?" A small, weak smile cracked his face; it felt unnatural to smile today, like he was stretching his mouth to wide or his teeth were too big for his mouth or something.

"You." Yosuke's heart fluttered ever so slightly. "What happened earlier?" His heart sank like a rock.

"I wasn't feeling well..." He said solemnly, his shoulders dropping.

"It was more than that, Yosuke. Tell me."

"I-I..." don't want to, he wanted to finish, but just shut his mouth. Saying that wouldn't make Souji happy, wouldn't make him love him.

"Yosuke." Souji took the boy's chin in his hand gently, tilting it up to look him in the eye, giving him a soft yet authoritative look. "Tell me."

Yosuke swallowed hard. "Just... ever since yesterday..." His voice cracked and he could feel his eyes sting and he pulled away to blink any tears back and breathe deeply.

"Yosuke, if this is too difficult for you, then maybe we should st-"

"No!" Yosuke panicked, his eyes wide and his head snapping up to meet the others. "Just i-it's so hard when I see... you and her together, and I c-can't..."

"Yosuke, you're going to have to." Souji said sternly. "I'm not breaking up with her, and I'm not going to hide things with her."

"Why not?!" Yosuke could feel the black bile turn into a damn whirlpool in his stomach, filling up his chest until he was sure it was going to seep out of his mouth and eyes.

"Because she's my girlfriend!"

"You hide things with me!" Nose too.

"Because I'm not yours! This is just for fun, remember?"

Wasn't very fun anymore. "You're not mine, but I'm yours?"

"Fuck, Yosuke, this is not what I came over for..." Souji pushed back his hair and half turned away, breathing deeply.

"Then what'd you come here for? Another pity fuck for poor fragile Yosuke? Poor Yosuke who's so desperately..." Shit. "Who really cares about you?"

He could see the dangerous look shot in his direction. "Didn't seem that way today. You almost completely blew everything in front of Yukiko and the others."

What? "O-of course I care, I said I was sorry!" He could feel the tears well up again and it felt like someone had tied a neat little bow around each lung in his chest. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I was just really upset, I-I'm sorry, I really care, I do, so much..."

"Show me."

Yosuke's heart pounded against his chest, his eyes already blurry and his face wet. When he started crying he had no idea, but... "Wh-what?"

"Show me." Souji repeated. "Show me you care, show me you're sorry."

"H-how?" His stomach clenched. Souji just simply walked over to his bed and sat down on it, undoing his belt and looking at Yosuke expectantly.

His stomach lurched. He was upset, he was crying and they had just been yelling at each other and Souji wanted him to try that? He'd never even done that before, and the idea of doing it didn't really appease him and Souji wanted him to do that now.

Yosuke dropped his shoulders and hung his head in defeat, walking silently over to the bed and dropping to his knees in between the boy's legs with a heavy thud. If this is how he'd prove it to Souji, show him he really did love him, that he'd do anything for him, then he'll do it.

He raised his hands to the other's fly, hesitating once and looking up to see Souji was watching him closely, intensely. Swallowing hard under that gaze, he pulled it down and eased his hand in his pants, rubbing in small, smooth circles at the soft bulge.

God, he wasn't even hard, was Yosuke really that repulsive? He moved his fingers carefully, cautiously stroking him hoping this would work, it needed to, but oh god, what would come after this...

He swallowed hard a second time, and Souji made a small noise, probably mistaking it for eagerness or maybe he was doing something right with his hand. It was beginning to stiffen, and that was good, meant he wasn't screwing it up. He let his fingers ghost over it, rubbed his thumb once over the tip through the fabric, and this elicited a groan from the one above.

His face felt tight after the streaks had dried on his face and his eyes hurt, but at least he'd stopped crying, right? It had gone from a fight to this, and this was better, meant Souji couldn't be that mad, he still wanted him. When the hardness was evident and standing at full attention in his hand, he knew he couldn't stall any longer – if he did, Souji would walk right out and go to Yukiko's or something, and he couldn't have that, couldn't go to anyone for this, not when he was so willing and loved him so goddamn much...

He pulled the boxers over it and hesitated again. He didn't even want to look at it, his eyes searching for something else to focus on, but it was difficult considering his position. Heat pooled in his cheeks, and his hands gripped at his own knees, which were beginning to hurt from the hardwood floor. He mustered up all his courage – Souji, it's Souji, you're doing this for Souji, it'll make him happy, maybe he'll love you, it's not that big a'deal, he did it for you, you selfish prick – and leaned in, hesitating one last time before flicking at the hardened flesh with his tongue experimentally, followed by a bolder lick.

Souji's hands tangled themselves in tumbled brown hair, pulling Yosuke further and he allowed himself to be guided, his heart beating hard against his chest, but all he could think of was Souji, how Souji wanted this, wanted him, and that made everything better. He obediently opened his mouth when the tip pressed against closed lips and taking him in. He vaguely heard Souji groan at being sheathed, but the blood pumping in his ears was drowning everything else out.

He sucked quietly at the tip, trying to take things slow, trying to get used to the dull pain in his jaw and the bitter taste on his tongue, but Souji pulled him forward more, and Yosuke's eyes flew open in panic, could feel it slide further into his mouth. His hands jumped up to the boy's thighs, scratched at the fabric, but stopped shortly after. Souji, this was for Souji, Souji'll be happy. He shut his eyes tight, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the strain and stretched his jaw as far as it would, let his head be guided further down and did his absolute best to not gag and failed miserably.

His fists tightening in Souji's pants and his coughing around him didn't seem to faze Souji in the least bit, pulling him further until Yosuke's nose was buried in a mess of curls, overwhelmingly musky and pungent and made him gag more, but he breathed deeply around the boy and took it all in stride. He was starting to feel like he couldn't breathe, his nose buried to in the mess, Souji's hips twitching, until he felt the hold on his head loosen and he slid back to take in a much needed breath around the length.

Souji's breath was beginning to shake and although Yosuke was damn uncomfortable, a warmth spread in his belly knowing that it was because of him that Souji was like this, that he could get him this way. If he did well, Souji'd praise him, want him, love him, and that thought alone made him move back down, sucking hard and letting his eyes slide shut.

His tongue moved in ways he thought would feel good, and the sounds Souji made told him it did. Souji's hands tightened in Yosuke's hair with every bob down and his nails scraped against his scalp with a sharp pain, and Yosuke would wince, make a soft sound that only made Souji pull at his hair harder.

It hurt. His jaw hurt, his throat felt tight, and he thought Souji'd ripped out half his hair, and he tried speeding things along, sucked harder, bobbed faster, tried to get this over with as quickly as he could, wanted it to just be over already.

When Souji breathed in sharply, fists grasping roughly at mussed hair and pulled Yosuke's head until his nose was buried again in a strong, pungent odour, hips bucking erratically, Yosuke braced himself, squeezed his eyes shut and worked his throat when he felt the hot spurts at the back of his throat. He tried swallowing it all, trying to as fast as he could so he could pull away and breathe already, but he couldn't keep up, could feel the slimy, bitter substance fill his mouth and dribble out past stretched and swollen lips and he sobbed, humiliated that he'd let it get this way, thankful it was dark out and they hadn't turned on any lights in his room.

When he was sure it was over, after swallowing all there was, he pulled away, coughing and spluttering wiping what was left of Souji's semen from around his mouth, his hands shaking and his cheeks burning.

He wanted to hide away, hide under his covers for the rest of his life but Souji was sitting on them. He didn't want to be seen, don't look at me, don't look at me. But Souji pulled him up gently, wrapped his arms around him and left a lingering kiss on his cheek and suddenly he didn't want to shy away.

"That was amazing..." Souji whispered quietly against Yosuke's cheek, dotting it with another kiss.

Souji was happy, which meant Yosuke was happy. Maybe if he kept this up, Souji would love him.

Despite that, he still felt sick, but ignored the black bile churning in his stomach.

Title is such because I was listening to Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey while writing this chapter haha!