Chapter Text
Larry hadn't initially thought anything was odd about Isaac's late-night binges. Nick was the first to describe it to him in a group call, and Larry had thought he'd been exaggerating for comedy. It reminded him of when he was a preteen addicted to GTA. When he was old enough to feed himself but too young to care about the consequences of a shitty diet, he did a similar thing where he'd starve himself on accident—focused entirely on the pixels of his TV screen—before realizing an entire night had passed him by. His body would tremble all over, as if to remind him, hey asshole, I need calories ASAP before I collapse. He was always thankful there would be no witnesses in the early hours of the morning, when he'd immediately collapse on the living room carpet after standing up too fast.
The first time Larry realized that maybe, just maybe, Isaac's OMAD wasn't the healthiest thing in the world was the first time he sat down next to Isaac on their couch in their first house, throughout his entire meal. Before Larry had sat down, he spotted the massive (ridiculous) spread of food on their cheap plastic Walmart table, which made a makeshift coffee table. He had thought to himself that Isaac was overshooting the amount he could eat just because he was too lazy to get back up again for extras once he sat down.
Unfortunately, to Larry's horror, the older man had managed to scarf everything down.
Larry had tried not to comment, but it got to a point where he had to say something, even if it was just to confirm what he was seeing. Larry knew he was practically minuscule in comparison to Isaac, but the amount of food he consumed made Larry struggle to comprehend how he could keep it all down without promptly vomiting it back up.
He doesn't remember exactly what was said, but he knows Isaac had acted as if nothing was out of order. Larry's bafflement and concern were brushed off like the crumbs on their budget coffee table.
It wasn't until that night that Larry realized Isaac had been dead serious about all the times he'd said in passing that he hadn't eaten anything all day. Larry had thought it was hyperbole like the annoying girls he knew in high school who would try to humble-brag about not eating in first period.
When Larry had gotten too tired to converse with Isaac that night and wished him a goodnight, he slumped onto his mattress on the floor of his bedroom. He remembers trying to make sense of what he'd seen as he closed his eyes to prepare for sleep. He had concluded that his instinctive disgust and shock were overreactions, instead choosing to follow Isaac's nonchalant lead on the whole thing. In retrospect, Larry would say Isaac had a genuine issue, but back then, he wasn't that aware of the world of eating disorders and their intricacies. Well, besides anorexia nervosa, but even then, his understanding had been elementary and full of stereotypes.
He spent the first year of living with the other guys mostly letting Isaac's weird eating habits fade into the background, which wasn't hard to accomplish, considering the constant chaos that seemed to accompany him and his friends wherever they were.
In 2024, which was the second year of living with Isaac, things had settled compared to their first scorpion-infested house. Nick had moved out early in the year, and so their shared spaces weren't as cluttered (not to say they were really any better at keeping a clean space, just that there was one less mess to deal with). Larry also felt himself becoming more attuned to the boys he lived with. He became confident in his ability to predict the others. And able to anticipate their particular habits.
He would say they all became better at respecting each other's boundaries after their first year together, which had been full of infringing on each other's limits (mostly) by accident and then walking back their actions with apologies as one does in toddlerhood. They were still rowdy but had a better understanding of one another and when to back down—for the important stuff, at least. Though Larry would be lying if he said Isaac in particular wasn't… territorial and arrogant at times.
It was in their second year living together that Larry finally took more notice of Isaac's binging routine. He already knew it was a nightly thing, but it wasn't until that year that he started doing more research into it. It had started from a half-joke that Nick had made about Isaac being an ED gymbro. Larry hadn't known what Nick was talking about at the time and had been too embarrassed to ask Nick directly what he meant by his internet-rotted dialect. So he secretly looked it up in his free time. He had started his "research" on Twitter, which was an idiotic mistake, as he was bombarded with an infinite supply of thinspo and mascspo. Which were things he didn't know had proper names till that night.
He spent a considerable amount of time scrolling through photos of people who looked like they shouldn't even be alive, which induced that familiar car crash can't-look-away effect. Eventually, he was able to break out of his horrified stupor. He had promised himself to stay off Twitter for a while before he found an actually helpful YouTube video essay on gymbros and eating disorders. He had stayed up early into the morning, sucked into a shiny new internet rabbit hole.
Larry had found a lot of similarities between Isaac and the internet personalities the video essay discussed, which left an ominous feeling in his gut. He didn't want to jump the gun, but there'd been too many associations connected in his brain that he didn't feel comfortable entirely dismissing his budding theory either.
Instead, he found roundabout ways to try and encourage Isaac to break out of his unhealthy routine—with virtually no success. It wasn't that Larry wasn't genuinely trying either. But the younger hadn't understood how set Isaac was on his OMAD diet until he was repeatedly rejected. When Larry got more desperate and started begging to know why Isaac refused to eat more than once a day, the other had gone on a tangent/circular argument that sounded wholly disordered to Larry. But the younger knew Isaac wouldn't listen to him on the subject. Larry didn't know how to argue against Isaac when he admittedly didn't have the best eating habits either.
Larry had dropped his failed intervention after Isaac stubbornly denied having any problems and refused to engage with Larry's contrary concerns. He consoled himself with the thought that he probably was overreacting, and Isaac would know better than anyone else what his body actually needed.
2025 had been a sluggish year if Larry had to put a word to it. But it was also hopeful by the tail end. Everything was different, and he couldn't really decide if that 'different' was mostly good or bad.
Starting to upload the podcast again—being perceived by the internet weekly again—had become an unforeseen obstacle for Larry, on top of everything else he had to deal with due to their comeback. He hadn't had to worry as much about his appearance during their hiatus, and you could say he had let that fact quickly influence his diet into becoming straight garbage. He had reverted a little to when he'd been a chubby kid, uncaring of what he put in his body, as he got distracted by his computer screen.
In comparison, Isaac had done the opposite. Larry commended his friend on being consistent at the gym, but there were inklings of resentment? Envy? That Isaac also sprouted in Larry whenever he'd see the other lounging carefree around the house. He would never say any of that aloud, not even to himself. It was something he hated about himself. He knew he should be happy for Isaac, but he couldn't help it.
The days were starting to get warmer again, which Larry was perfectly content with. The other guys complained about the Texas heat all the time, which was always funny to Larry, who was like a cold-blooded animal. He was also grateful for his tolerance of heat because it meant he could hide his body even in the midst of a Texan spring, as he was doing now, sitting in a friend's backyard for a BBQ party. There was no special occasion today, besides boredom.
The plastic chair he was in was wobbly due to a slowly cracking leg, but he chose to sit on it since there was a limited amount of seating. He doubted there was anyone else small enough not to break the chair entirely, anyway. The grass was still wet from sprinkler use earlier, before the guests arrived. Larry knew he was noticeably shy today, especially since his focus was on wet grass instead of the mass of people farther away from the back porch, all engaged in animated conversation.
Larry looked up and saw Nick in the middle of all the noise, not even a can of beer to hold him over, like the extroverted freak he was. He was tempted to get up just to tease his friend, but quickly decided against it when he saw the other jovially engage in an arm wrestling competition with a horde of people. Instead, Larry reached down by the cracked chair leg, blindly bumping his hand against his can of beer before taking a rushed gulp. Beer always tasted disgusting to him, no matter what, but he was getting better at hiding his sour face at least.
"You just wanna go home, don't you?" A familiar voice piped up from behind him, accompanied by thick fingers resting on both his shoulders, causing them to dip a little under the weight.
"No! No, I'm just… recharging before I start talkin' to everyone." Larry was embarrassed about being so easily clocked.
"Riiiiight, obviously," Isaac teased sarcastically. The older patted Larry on the shoulders before continuing, "D'ya wanna come inside n' play shot roulette with us?" At Isaac's question, Larry looked up at him. Isaac gestured towards the window overlooking the back porch, where Larry made eye contact with Tanner, who was already waving down at him energetically behind the glass.
"Uhm," Larry took a glance at Nick, who looked like he was playfighting in the grass or something, before deciding, "Yeah, fuck it, why not?"
"C'mon then!" Isaac seemed delighted by Larry's assent. If it wasn't for his tone, the way he enthusiastically pulled Larry out of his seat by his wrist was definitely an indication.
As Isaac pulled him through the throng of people camping out in the kitchen, Larry smiled at Isaac's enthusiasm. Isaac led him to a more secluded room upstairs, where a smaller cluster of their friends huddled around a table. They were all fussing over what to fill the shot glasses with and bantering about silly hypotheticals. Larry and Isaac's entrance was collectively given a friendly but quick 'hello' from the room before they returned to setting up the game. Isaac let go of Larry's wrist once he hauled Larry to a comfy-looking chair in a corner, where Tanner was reclining.
"It's so fuckin' hot in here. Are you guys hot?" Tanner complained as he gently slapped the back of his hand against Larry's belly. "How the fuck are you even wearing all black right now, let alone some thick ass jeans too? Are you even alive?"
Larry scoffed at his friend. "It is not that bad right now! It's like what—80 degrees out right now? That's nothing, T."
"I dunno, it is kinda hot, 'specially with all these people," Isaac chimed in from his spot, leaning against the wall next to Tanner's chair. His arms crossed over his chest.
"You guys are just babies," Larry lovingly insulted his housemates, "A buncha rich boys who can't even handle a summer without air conditioning, " he added, just to stir the pot. He smirked in anticipation, quirking his head to the side.
"OH-KAY, you know for a FACT that's just not true," Isaac immediately defended himself from Larry's accusations. His eyebrows furrowed behind his stupid sunglasses.
Larry enjoyed riling them up sometimes, a leftover trait from growing up as the baby of his family.
"Yeah! I didn't even need AC back home, man! Texas is actually hell," Tanner complained passionately. He began flapping his shirt to cool off and make his point.
"All I hear are excuses, excuses, excuses!" Larry disagreed with an empty-headed accent.
Isaac rolled his eyes, but Larry could tell he was smiling under his mask.
"Go ahead and make fun of us. We all know when 'winter' time comes," Isaac made quotations with his fingers to sarcastically emphasize 'winter', "you'll be the first one on some, 'Oh, it's freezing out! Isaac, can you drive me to the gas station? It's too cold to drive!' bullshit." Isaac used a flamboyant cadence to mock Larry. His hands were gesturing around wildly, as if he were a dasmel in distress.
Larry tongued his cheek as he slightly nodded his head up and down, aware enough to be unable to deny Isaac's claims outright. An indignant sound escaped his throat, not exactly wanting to give Isaac the satisfaction of agreeing, but wanting to respond.
"And you'll do it while lookin' all pitiful too! Lookin' up at me like your fucking Puss n' Boots or something." Isaac didn't wait for Larry to defend himself.
Larry bit his lip to hold in an embarrassed scoff. His ears were burning. Tanner sat gleefully in his chair, enjoying the free entertainment right in front of him.
"Yeah! Aren't you supposed to be like 21, or something?" Tanner questioned Larry sardonically. "I thought you were all grown up now, even got your license and car and everything."
"Ok, ok! I get it!" The words burst out of Larry once he couldn't hold back his mortification anymore. "Chill out," Larry spread his palms out in front of him, as if he was pushing Isaac and Tanner's teasing away, "chillll outtt, guys. Ok, yes. I'm maybe not the most independent person, but still. You, of all people," Larry pointed straight at Isaac's chest, "can't act like you're actually bothered by it! I know you'd be a lonely fuck if it weren't for me or T tagging along with you all the time! Really! What would you even do if you lived alone with no one to boss around when you want? You'd be bored as fuck."
Isaac's eyebrow quirked up at Larry's accusations. "Doesn't that just mean you're easy to push around?" Isaac smugly asserted, "That you're actually the one who needs me?"
"Uh!" Larry stalled dumbly. Looking up as if he could find a comeback stuck to the ceiling.
Isaac shook his head fondly. "You're so dense sometimes!" Isaac giggled.
Larry's head was pounding as he picked his head up from the cool embrace of the tub's rim. He whined as he wiped bile at the corner of his mouth off on the back of his hand.
"I feel like m'heart's gonna 'splode," Larry said to the room.
His mind was too scrambled to hold any idea for long, let alone have a working short-term memory. His hands were trembling as he gripped unknowingly onto his jeans like a lifeline. Larry had to remind himself to keep breathing deeply. His eyes were squeezed shut in defense against the overhead light that felt like it was bouncing off the room's tiles directly into his corneas.
He hadn't been this anxious to throw up in a while. He had a track record of throwing up often, after all. He was usually fine dealing with the anticipation leading up to spilling his guts, but something about his spinning vision and crowded journey to the bathroom as someone pulled him along had gotten to him. Speaking of, he totally forgot that someone was in the bathroom with him.
"Isaac?" Larry hesitantly probed, still unsure if his friend was actually accompanying him in the tiny bathroom.
"Lare? Do you need some water?" Isaac's voice popped up behind Larry, who was curled up in a child's pose, as if his spine was too weak to support itself.
"Mmfffmh. Nnno." The idea of opening his mouth alone sounded unpleasant to Larry.
"You sure?" Isaac double-checked.
The lump of Larry's body on the bathroom rug shivered in lieu of a response.
Isaac sighed good-naturedly before crouching down behind Larry.
"You coulda said no to some of those drinks, y'know?" Isaac gently reprimanded Larry as he spread his right palm on Larry's spine. "It's not like we woulda forced you or anything."
Larry groaned miserably. He was sweating hard enough for his hair to stick to his forehead. The tender stroking of Isaac's hand up and down his spine made goosebumps trail along Larry's arms. He felt himself blushing as Isaac clicked his tongue like a parent tiredly dealing with their unruly child.
"M'sorry." Larry was hardly audible with the way he spoke directly into the rug.
"Don't be. I think dealin' with your hangover tomorrow will be punishment enough to be fair." Isaac sounded much more eloquent in comparison to what came out of Larry's mouth. The embarrassment setting up shop in Larry's chest made him dread tomorrow.
Suddenly, Larry was lying on top of sheets of a bed that wasn't his own. The texture was too scratchy against the side of his face. He opened his eyes to a dim room. At first, he didn't spot anyone. But as he rolled over onto his back, he saw Isaac sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, casually scrolling on his phone.
"Fuck." Larry's incapacitated brain couldn't compute anything else.
Isaac's head perked up at Larry's voice. He twisted his torso towards Larry. "You awake?"
"Nnhg—yeah. Auughh. Fuck!" Larry brought his balled-up fists to his eyes as he closed them. He could feel a pounding headache coming on. "How long?"
"Were you passed out?" Isaac finished Larry's sentence and looked at his lockscreen, "Uhhh, like half an hour. The other guys are still here. I just thought it'd probably be best to wait it out a lil before goin' back home since I don't want you throwing up all over the Uber—or me, for that matter."
"Sounds smart," Larry spoke curtly through the pain. Unlike me, he grimaced at the thought.
"D'you think you can walk, or do I have to help you?" Isaac queried.
There was a pause as Larry quietly assessed himself. "I don't think I can. Hurts t'much to open m'eyes," Larry admitted shamefully.
"S'alright," Isaac assured him before returning to tapping away at his phone.
Larry couldn't gauge how time passed as he felt the room closing in on him even as he lay perfectly still. He felt more lucid than earlier, able to hold onto thoughts for longer, but now he was dead tired. He briefly fantasized about snuggling into his softest blanket back home before getting frustrated at the fact that getting back was going to be a whole crusade, thanks to his stupidity.
At some point during Larry's mundane musings, he must've passed out again because he came to in a slightly different position. His head was turned all the way to the left as his limbs were awkwardly spread on the bed. Even in sleep, his body had turned away from the one lamp that was turned on in the corner. He felt plastered onto the sheets, like a giant would have to scrape him off the bed with a spatula.
His awareness of his body slowly trickled into his consciousness. He didn't necessarily feel anything touching him, but he sensed an object hovering slightly above him. His initial thought was that he was imagining things. As he became more aware, he took notice of his persistent headache again, so he didn't open his eyes—until he felt something tickle his right hand.
Instinctively, he shook his hand dramatically, entirely convinced it was a bug crawling on him, but when his eyes shot open, he came face-to-face with Isaac above him. The older was caging him against the bed. Larry looked down at his hand. He found that Isaac's pants had a shoelace-like end from his built-in faux belt swaying around.
"Whoa. Wh—what are you doing?" Larry asked with humor. Isaac was probably trying to scare him for a bit.
"You… had something… on your forehead. I thought it was a bug," Isaac finished lamely.
"Oh," Larry felt his forehead with a hand but felt nothing out of the ordinary, "Well, whatever it was, it must've got scared by me flinching."
"Yeah." Isaac slowly backed away, sitting on his haunches by Larry's feet. "Probably."
Isaac was extra attentive getting Larry outside to their Uber. Larry probably could've walked, but he would've had to close his eyes and be led blind. Instead, Isaac effortlessly picked him up in a bridal carry. Larry squeaked as Isaac picked him up and hoped the other didn't hear him. But if the smug smile on his face said anything, his hope was futile.
Larry was reminded of when his dad would carry him around as a rowdy child. Larry would demand to be picked up or sometimes begin crawling up his family members like a monkey if he didn't want to wait for an answer. He loved being held upside down and being thrown in the air. He'd squeal in delight every time.
Larry felt his sleepiness washing over him in stronger tides as he thought of his childhood. His eyelashes fluttered closed. His memories blended with his current sensations. He didn't have the strength to hold up his head anymore. He allowed his head to fall against Isaac's chest. The last thing he recalls feeling is a hand caressing his jaw.
Larry took forever to wake up the day after the embarrassment that was their friend's BBQ party. Or it would probably be more accurate to say the mess Larry was, at that party. He hadn't planned on letting his introvertedness take over and lead to him relying on liquid courage too much, but when he was caught up in the moment of a bunch of his friends egging each other on, he thought it would've been more embarrassing to sit out on the game—he had been dead wrong in retrospect. He had told himself that he was done with drinking heavily, but perhaps he caved under peer pressure more than he thought he did.
He had been dreading getting out of bed and becoming a person again. He wanted to be content with being a gross puddle on his bed, but eventually he had to get up and shower, if not for his sake at least for his roommates'. But now he was stuck trying to get dressed.
His clothes weren't the problem; that was for sure. The other guys always complimented his fashion sense to the point where he'd have to be exceptionally dense not to accept them as genuine. So if his clothes were perfectly fine, it had to be him who was the problem.
He had already tried on a multitude of outfits, plenty of which he'd already worn in the past, and found all of them unsatisfactory. He fussed around with tucking and untucking shirts and switching out jackets and pulling his jeans up and down in slightly different positions, and none of it worked. Today was one of those days he was going to look like shit no matter what, but that didn't mean he could swallow that fully.
His throat felt tight as he looked at himself in his full-body mirror. He sighed as his hands brushed down his flank. He had to resist clutching at his stomach. As he bored a hole into his torso's reflection, he remembered when he had taken a shower earlier. He hadn't noticed until he was jumping into the shower, but there had been an odd sticky residue on his stomach. He still couldn't figure out where it came from. He doubted he'd ever know since he couldn't remember most of the past night. He settled on a bland all-black outfit: a big hoodie and worn joggers.
It was getting harder to ignore his weight. He was going to the gym more consistently now, but that was only for the past 2 weeks, if he was being generous. There was no visible difference, just small changes that only Larry would notice. It was taking forever. It made Larry resent his past self for being so lazy and careless. Stupid.
His mind would always wander to Isaac when he thought about exercising. He just couldn't comprehend how Isaac managed to go regularly. They lived similar lives, and it wasn't like Isaac ate exceptionally healthy either. It didn't make sense why Isaac could flourish while Larry floundered. But he supposed that was kind of their entire relationship summed up. Isaac was always taking care of him. Larry was always childish and needy. That was just Isaac and Larry. That's what last night had been. It's embarrassing.
Larry sucked in a breath purposefully before finally turning away from the torture device that was his mirror.
Larry had no clue who started it, but there was an all-out war in their backyard. Thankfully, it was a warm spring day, with no sign of the sunny, agreeable weather changing at the last minute. Unfortunately for him, his shirt was clinging to his torso. All thanks to the fact that he was completely soaked by the water balloons and water guns that had been aimed at him throughout the past 20 minutes.
Having a water fight in their backyard wasn't the brightest idea, considering there wasn't really any place for any of them to hide. But it also meant they all got equally drowned in water and cooled off from the sun's persistent rays. His stamina was shot already, making him yearn for the indoors—his head whipped to the side as a water balloon crashed perfectly into his cheek. The water balloon was resilient, though, and bounced onto their slightly grown-out lawn. Larry smiled as he quickly bent down to pick it up and looked in the direction it came from.
He was met with a sadistic smirk from Isaac before he threw it as hard as he could in his direction. Larry only noticed he was holding his breath once he sucked in air after he saw the balloon pop against Isaac's chest, who hadn't moved at all after being spotted, for some odd reason. Larry wasn't able to follow that line of thinking as he noticed the tingling pain in his cheek from the sizeable water balloon practically smacking him across his face. He put his hand up to his cheeks and felt it radiating more warmth than the other.
"I'm going inside! I give up!" Larry yelled at his friends indiscriminately. They were too busy trying to get revenge on each other to respond properly. He made surprisingly intense eye contact with Isaac one last time before trudging in his uncomfortably wet pants to the back door. He got a glimpse of Isaac rushing towards Grant with a bucket of water before the back door slammed shut behind him.
Larry immediately started taking his pants off once he got inside. The texture of wet denim grinding against his thighs in the worst way, and he couldn't stand it any longer once he didn't have to worry about public indecency. It was like wearing wet socks multiplied by thirty. That thought just reminded him that he left his socks on the back porch. He took them off before they started dumping water on each other. He'd have to remember to get them after tidying himself up.
He was still in the process of peeling his stubborn jeans off when he heard the back door swing open. His pants were only pulled down past his hipbones. He innately bent his upper body down in an attempt to hide himself as he looked up. It was Isaac.
Larry gulped as he took in Isaac's disheveled appearance. He was wearing an all-white outfit. One he'd worn plenty of times in the past. The fabric of his sweats and tank top was thin. Even without clinging to his skin in their currently soaked state, it showed off his physique for anyone to gander. The back door slammed shut. Larry repeated in his head over and over not to look past his waistline. Isaac was illuminated from behind by the sunlight coming through the living room windows. It made his more unruly curls look golden.
Isaac panted in air before speaking. "Why're you hiding yourself?" His tone was bemused.
"Oh—uh… I dunno." Larry awkwardly unfolded his body. "Guess it was just instinct."
Isaac giggled at Larry. "You look like you're trynna act tuff." He pointed at Larry's exposed boxers.
"Pft, no. I was just… taking them off A-S-A-P." Larry spelled out the acronym with his finger for emphasis. "The friction against my skin is like scrubbing a chalkboard with tinfoil."
Isaac grimaced at the vivid imagery. "Yuck. Yeah, guess I can't blame you."
Isaac reached up to take down his signature ponytail. His hair fell on his shoulders. It looked longer than Larry was used to seeing due to how drenched it was. Isaac messed with it with his fingers, presumably trying to make it look neater, before he sighed dramatically, giving up.
"Long hair is gonna kill me, man. At least you understand." Isaac looked Larry in the eyes with a subtle nod.
"Ugh, yeah. That's why I get haircuts so much. I mean, I think I look better with it longer, but it's such a pain in the ass." Larry's eyes wandered to Isaac's face to his hair, which was dripping onto the hardwood floor. He thought he looked good with long hair, too. He liked how he'd occasionally come across loose strands of Isaac's curly hair around the house. It was one of those small details that made their place feel like home.
"…aid fuck no. But he's still in that stupid manly man period of his life, so… Are you even listening to me?" Isaac accused.
"What? Yeah! Yup!" Larry replied on autopilot even though he knew he sounded fake as fuck. His spine straightened at being caught.
Isaac rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile. "Whatever. Go take your pants off already, boy. Since I seem to be boring you." Isaac finished his statement by shooing Larry away with his hands.
"That's not—"
"Shoo! Go!" Isaac's smile became genuine as he used the same cadence he would with a dog. His hand gestures became more pronounced with each word.
Larry frowned exaggeratedly, playing into the joke. He theatrically dropped his chin to his breastbone. He turned away with a 'hmph' that made Isaac exhale through his nose, refusing to laugh. As Larry waddled to his room, he felt Isaac's stare burning into his back.