4 // Lunch.

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“Let’s take a break and get some lunch, yeah?” Mark asked, pushing back his chair from the table. His joints popped as he stood up, causing him to let out a little pleased groan. “We can talk about Unus Annus ideas.”

Ethan’s head shot up to look at Mark. Icy panic crept down his spine like trickling water at the thought of eating, and his stomach turned uncomfortably. He couldn’t eat yet, he was still supposed to be fasting! Twenty-seven hours had gone by since he last ate - having lunch would ruin all of his hard work. If anything, he’d gain weight from it. There was no way he could accept Mark’s offer.

On the other hand, though, Mark would get worried. Ethan hadn’t had lunch with Mark in, well, ages. It was definitely a change from the near-daily breakfast and lunch they’d shared before his diet. Hell, Ethan was even at Mark’s house for dinner, too, more often than not. Going from eating together every day to never eating would cause Mark to be concerned.

If Mark got worried, he’d ask questions. Questions that Ethan couldn’t answer for fear of making his friend even more worried, even if there was nothing to worry about because he was fine. Ethan knew the older man wouldn’t agree, though, and he’d try to make Ethan stop. If he stopped he’d gain back all of the weight he had lost, and the progress he had been making over the past month would be ruined! Surely gaining back everything would be more disastrous than breaking one fast.

So it was decided, whatever happened, he could not let Mark in on his diet.

Realizing that the acceptable time for a response had passed, he stuttered out a quick yes, cursing himself internally. Even though Mark smiled, Ethan felt like curling up into a hole and dying. Keeping his friend in the dark about his diet was the best course of action, but that didn’t mean that eating wouldn’t have any repercussions at all. Stuffing his face would make him look fat and bloated in the next few videos! Surely the viewers would comment on it - anonymous accounts pointing out how flabby he looked next to Mark. How insufferable he was compared to
the older man.

He had never really thought much of the comment section before. Now, it felt like his life depended on pleasing the hundreds of thousands of strangers who thought they were entitled to his body.

But… Mark looked so pleased that he had accepted - even smiling when Ethan gave him his takeout order. If he didn’t eat, would Mark be disappointed in him? Would he demand to know why Ethan had wasted his money? The younger shivered at the idea, curling into himself slightly. He would hate to make Mark mad, or take advantage of his kind offer to buy food by not
eating.

Even if he wasn’t mad at the younger for not eating, he would still force him to finish the meal out of some misguided “concern.” Mark would pester Ethan until he got an answer, and when he did he would treat him like a child. Supervising his meals as much as he could and forcing him to gain weight, checking in on him and how much he ate. He wasn’t sure he could handle that treatment.

While he was thinking, the doorbell rang throughout the house. Mark jumped up to answer the door, and Ethan tuned out the small talk he and the delivery man made. This was it. He was going to have to eat lunch for the first time in a long time.

Finally, Mark set his order in front of him, tossing him a pack of plastic silverware from the bag. “Dude!” Ethan cried, bouncing his leg to expel the nervous energy building up within them. “Plastic? Are you trying to kill the sea turtles?”

“Oh, ha ha. Come on, dig in - I paid good money for these plastic forks.”

And so Ethan tried to. He carefully picked up the white utensil and twirled it around in his hand for a moment. Mark scooped a huge bite into his mouth, and Ethan hoped he didn’t notice the way his hand trembled.

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