this was born because i wanted to write a fanfic where Chandler had an ED. oh my God. i'm a horrible person. i am not sure how i feel about this. meh. i wrote worse. xD.


176.4.

Chandler was only 5'0 when he weighed that much.

His best friend, Sebastian, said that he was fat, and had tiny boobs from how revolting he was. Chandler thought it was only because Sebastian was always really thin and tall, and he was never a day above 164 so he really didn't know any better.

His Father, Chase, said that he was on the heavy side. Chandler frowned. It was still mentioned over and over, again and again. His Mother stopped getting him all the cake he wanted and told him to eat apples because apples made him lose weight and Chandler, honey, you're pudgy. You need this.

Whenever Chandler poked at his tummy, it shook a bit. It made Chandler shudder. His pants size made him blush. His shirt was really big, so maybe he can hide in it for a bit.

He was gonna grow tall too. He didn't need to lose weight. He just needed to stop eating a lot of cheesecake, and start eating a few more apples.

176.4.

Chandler was 5'7, and he still looked like a blob of fat. He was at around seventeen years old, when he had gotten his hand on the idea of a crash diet. In about twenty-four hours, he was starved, consumed, so he ate all of the white pizza, red potatoes, and raspberry white chocolate truffles until he was going to puke. So he did.

He went to his bathroom, shoved the toothbrush down his throat and gagged and gagged and gagged for at least half an hour.

Nothing.

So he ran. On the treadmill, he ran and ran and ran. He was so out of shape that he was exhausted after two minutes, but he kept on going on an incline of 5.0 for five minutes before he gave up.

By then, he was so nauseated he threw it all up. The exhausted weighed heavily on his bones. The only lucid thought that burned in Chandler's mind as he fell to a pile on his bed was: I'm really, really fat.

175.2.

"You eat a lot, Chandler. This isn't okay," Chase bellowed as Chandler was finishing off his fourth pudding cup. It was okay. Chandler told himself. He was just going to throw it up. He realised he didn't need a lot of time. Throwing up pudding was really easy and painless.

Sebastian and him were walking as Sebastian curled up in his sweater. "Hey, fuck," he said all of a sudden. "You do know that fat people are more insulated, huh? I'm fucking freezing. I want to cut off the fat of some chubby bitch just so I don't have to feel so freaking cold."

Chandler stared at Sebastian. He suddenly blushed, knowing that he didn't feel cold at all. Chandler stared back at Sebastian. "I'd give you my fat, Bas."

"Good to know, bitchlet," Sebastian gave him a smirk, and Chandler gave him a winning smile as they held each other's elbows when they walked down the winter morning. "Feel some Chinese?"

"Uh huh," Chandler said. So Chandler ate noodles, spent probably around three hours getting it out with that slimy feeling still in his stomach, as he drank and re-drank water to get it all up. By the time that three hours have ended, it was nearly one am. He was tired. His homework wasn't done. He felt sick. He felt fat. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream.

He just walked back downstairs, found Sebastian sitting by the counter. "Pick-me-up?" he asked, pulling one of Chandler's favourite chai lattes. He looked at the calorie content. 110. He didn't know if he can afford that after all the noodles he'd just purged out. He walked towards Sebastian's Mother's cabinet, finding laxatives, took around five of them, and drank the chai.

Chandler fell asleep beside his best friend. Then he got up at three am, racing towards the bathroom and staying there until six am, because his stomach was cutting itself into ribbons and he felt horrible.

Sebastian probably heard Chandler's dismay because he asked, "Hey, what the fuck did you eat?"

Chandler wanted to cry. Everything.

174.2.

Down a pound after all the suffering was over. The going to the bathroom every five seconds ended about two days later and now, Chandler was curling up into a ball. He had just gotten the hang of eating oatmeal, soup, and a lot of apples, when Sebastian had called him and said he was coming there with the Devil's concoction – white pizza, garlic bread, and regular Pepsi. He ate and ate until Sebastian laughed and asked him to please fucking slow down. Sebastian ate two slices, didn't touch the garlic bread, and a very small cup of Pepsi. Chandler drank nearly two litres, ate the rest of the six slices, and ate all four slices of garlic bread.

"Chandler Kiehl, competitive food eater," Sebastian muttered. "Has a ring to it, huh?"

Chandler giggled. Normally, that wouldn't even get to him like it did right then. Sebastian didn't say that Chandler was a glutton, but he really was. It didn't need anymore obvious pointing out. He had never had so much in one go. He felt uncomfortable. Sebastian asked him to go get a DVD and just in the middle, Chandler had gone to the bathroom. Shoved his knuckles in because there was no way he was looking for his toothbrush. He got all of it out in nearly fifteen minutes. He was suddenly glad for all of the Pepsi he'd consumed because it made it so much easier, and when he got downstairs, Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "The fuck? Takes you nearly twenty minutes to find a damn movie?"

Chandler nodded his head mutely as Sebastian put in a movie where Christian Bale was a psycho killer. Chandler felt Sebastian swing an arm around his shoulder, and bringing him close. "Are you hugging me?" Chandler asked, gigging softly.

"Shut up, fudge pudge," he teased him. Chandler remained quiet for the rest of the movie. Sebastian just thought he was really into psychopathic killers and was intent on watching the movie.

Chandler looked up at Sebastian. "Bas, be honest with me: am I fat?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "Who the fuck cares, Chan? You're hot."

Chandler shrugged, and smiled slightly at the compliment. The taste of white pizza still on his mouth made him feel otherwise. An hour in the movie, Chandler's stomach was hurting him. Sebastian had fallen asleep, bringing Chandler close to him. Chandler just wanted to throw up some more. So he went to his bathroom and got out whatever remained of his pizza, along with a wave of bile.

173.9.

It was such a meager loss, but a loss nonetheless. Chandler looked sideways. He didn't look any different. He still looked like a house. He made cupcakes, ate the whole batch when he was done with his Father staring at him. Of course, this was too much, even for Chandler. He wanted to go back to his Mother. At least she was nice when she told him he was getting fat. Chase just stared at him until he felt guilty. Chandler stayed with his Mother for most of the school year, and stayed at his Father's for the summer and winter holidays.

"How much sugar was in that? Or calories?"

Chandler wanted to scream. 5,040. Chandler calculated them before he ate them, so he went upstairs, found his Father's toothbrush and threw them all up. He skipped dinner, but his Father wasn't there so that didn't matter. Nothing ever mattered. Sebastian got him Italian bread a few days later, and Chandler ate most of it in around three minutes, walking upstairs to throw it back up again.

Just as he flushed the concoction of bile, and vomit, he couldn't help but feel like something was kind of wrong. He was making himself sick on purpose, but that wasn't true. All those pretty models with eating disorders were all thin. Chandler looked into the mirror, wanting to break the mirror and dive off a cliff. He can only weigh himself every few days because he had to be sure his Dad was off for work. He would die if Chase ever saw the number—

172.1.

Chase told him to get on the scale, called him fat, and practically banned dinner from him. Chandler curled up on his couch, still empty from throwing up his lunch and trying to forgo the hunger pangs that were slicing up his stomach like ribbons.

Chase sighed. "It's just food," he said as he shut off Chandler's room. "Skipping a few dinners won't do you any harm."

So that was what Chandler would do. His stomach growled at high pitches, cutting himself into ribbons. He could not fall asleep until four am. And by then, he was practically passed out.

171.0.

If he heard one more word about how fat he was, he will not eat for an entire twenty-four hours.

170.2.

Sebastian called his thighs like tree trunks. Chandler was slouched over the porcelain bowl because he hadn't eaten in a day, and when he decided to break his fast, he finished a box of cereal and a carton of milk, so now, he'd thrown it all up in the span of five minutes. He'd cleaned up his mouth, and cried in his hands. He weighed straight after his little cereal binge and purge, seeing that he was a bit down.

169.4.

In two days, he'd only eaten eight cucumbers and twelve bottles of water. He cried into his hands. His cat died. Then he ate thirteen cucumbers in the span of five minutes, followed by an entire cheesecake and proceeded to throw it up in the bush on his way to Sebastian's house. They did homework and Sebastian ate three plates of mashed potato, because it was so good. When Sebastian weighed himself, it came out as 156 flat and Sebastian scrunched up his nose. "Wow. I'm fat." He can't tell by Sebastian's tone if he was serious or playing but that didn't matter, because Sebastian was six-foot-two and 156 and perfect. He had his perfect BMI of 21.1 and Chandler was still fat.

Chandler wanted to rip his hair out and scream. Sebastian didn't seem to care at all and went on his fourth plate, saying something about joining Chandler on the road to being fat. Two days later, he weighed in. 153.4, with a BMI of 20.8. Sebastian shrugged, went off for lacrosse practice and Chandler was numb as he weighed in on Sebastian's scale, fully clothed, with still a little bit of water in him. The number made him want to projectile vomit.

167.2.

So he did. He did throw up. But he also seemed to inhale a lot of food along the way. Mostly in the form of candy. His Father was staring at him again. Chandler wanted to cry in his little corner. He told himself the only thing he was going to eat today was a doughnut, so in disappointing Chandler fashion, he inhaled sixteen of them, drank a lot of spiky sugary soda and threw them all up in the space of minutes. His stomach was a black hole and fat fat fat piggy Chandler oink oink played in his head. Each doughnut was two hundred calories, at least. Now, he was completely disgustingly fat.

He really did cry in his little corner. Sebastian found him crying, rolled his eyes, but then sat down beside him, holding him close. "Come on, you melodramatic baby. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's my Dad. Things are weird between us," Chandler lied. It wasn't really a lie, but the more his Father stared at how fat he was, the more Chandler wanted to die in his own vomit. Right now, Chandler can't stand anyone looking at his figure like it was bad. His mind and thoughts were completely consumed on his weight, how he looked like, what he can look like, the weights he wanted to be, the weight he was, and how disgusting and revolting he was. He realised he will never amount to anything anymore and that nobody wanted him and he should go hang himself on a clothing hanger because he was just that useless. The thoughts ran in day in and day out into Chandler's mind. Every day was mentally exhausting.

Somehow, he was babysitting. He ate just a handful of popcorn because one of the kids offered. He walked into the bathroom, threw that up, leaving a two-year-old and a six-year-old girl all alone to feel pretty again. He was crying by the end of it, holding his head in his hands, as Lily told him that it was alright. Chandler asked her if she was fat.

Lily patted his stomach. "It's alright. Fat people are nice and squishy."

166.4.

Sebastian was going out on a date with Andrew. Chandler was all alone for their usual dinners. He sat around, ate Nathalie's enormous portion for him, and she made rainbow sorbet for him as well. Chandler went autopilot towards the bathroom, scraping his knuckles against his mouth as he threw up the contents of his stomach, coughing and choking, spluttering in complete and utter agony. By the time he was awake, Sebastian was looking down at him with soft eyes, running his hand through Chandler's hair. Chandler realised right now that he'd lost ten pounds, and then, he realised he can really care less because he was still disgusting.

"Hey, Mom told me you like threw your guts up or some shit," Sebastian murmured as Chandler nodded his head. "Your face is hot. I think you have some sort of a fever or something like that. Why didn't you call me? I could've ditched Andrew for you. Fucker was a horrible bitch."

Chandler shrugged. "I'm not the only person in your life, Bassie."

"Stop calling me Bassie," Sebastian murmured. He said nothing about Chandler's statement, as he ran his hand against Chandler's side, pressing Chandler towards him.

"Please don't touch me," Chandler nearly pushed him away. Sebastian stared down at him but then shrugged.

"Whatever," Sebastian said. "I only do that shit because it makes you as happy as a gay rainbow fucker."

Chandler smiled weakly at that statement and a genuine smile graced Sebastian's lips only a few moments after as Chandler laid his hand on Sebastian's. Sebastian held tightly at Chandler's hand, almost refusing to let go. Chandler stared at the wall for a bit. "Sebastian, is there something different about me?"

Sebastian stared at him. "You look like shit."

Chandler chuckled as his heart stabbed. "Thanks," he murmured.

"Is that sarcasm?"

Chandler giggled. "Maybe?"

Chandler fell asleep with his head on Sebastian's shoulder. His body did not touch Sebastian Smythe's body – at all.

165.3.

Chandler skipped lunch. Chase bought home dinner for Chandler, and Chandler ate the rice, and then threw it up. Just as he was getting a yoghurt for his aching stomach, Chase finally said, "Haven't you had enough?" he told the smaller boy.

Chandler didn't know what happened, but he had finally snapped. "Fuck you." Chandler was suddenly horrified at himself, at the amount of contempt in his voice.

Chase stared down at Chandler with a look of complete shock and anger. He didn't let Chandler eat for a day, and only fed him a piece of bread for lunch. Chandler was starving and hurt, and kind of scared. Then Chase sighed, said he was sorry, and hugged him but Chandler felt disgusting and fat. He felt horrible. He got himself a large slice of cheesecake, ate it, purged it, and went downstairs for more food. He shoved anything that was a block of cheese and bread down his throat, and threw that up too until he collapsed against his toilet. For the first time ever, Chandler was so exhausted he had fallen asleep against the toilet bowl.

164.4.

Lily told him his pants were getting looser. Chandler always wore baggy pants, so he pinned it down to that. He was still a fat cow in the mirror. Lily tugged at his pants just to see if they would fall. He wondered how he could be so big and feel so fragile. Lily tried to get him to eat cake. Chandler ate a lot of it, got picked up by Sebastian. They went for pizza. Before their order came, Chandler had a purging session for around eight minutes against the Pizza Hut toilets. When he got out, the female worker stared at him for a moment. His knuckles were raw and cut-open from all the throwing up.

"If you're going to have an eating disorder, you might as well be thin," the girl – Patricia – mumbled.

Chandler walked out of there feeling numb. Sebastian was eating most of the pizza this time and Chandler felt hollow. By his fourth slice, Sebastian cursed. "Shit. Want me to order another one for you?"

"I'm sick," Chandler whined.

"Whatever," Sebastian murmured, shoving the other half of the pizza towards Chandler as Sebastian flirted with breadsticks.

Chandler went back at home very late, too tired for words, found the energy to throw up and maneuver his way to his bed.

163.8.

That was what he weighed when he saw Sebastian have his first drink. Ever since that night he picked Sebastian up from Scandals, Chandler had not seen his best friend.

162.8.

Sebastian threw up on him. It took all of Chandler's sanity to not throw up the apple he'd eaten earlier. He had. He threw that up and the very small turkey wrap he'd had five hours prior. Sebastian stripped Chandler down and they had sex. It was messy. They were both drunk. By the time that Chandler woke up, he was sick, ashamed and wouldn't meet Sebastian's eyes for days on after the incident.

"Come on, Chan, it' not like you were a fucking virgin or anything."

Chandler finally looked up to see Sebastian. "Fuck." Sebastian murmured. "You were, weren't you?"

Chandler's eyes filled with tears. Sebastian leaned down to hug him. Chandler jumped. He really didn't want anyone feeling his fat right now.

"Fine," Sebastian muttered. "I won't touch you. Just…have lunch with me, okay?"

Chandler ate lunch with Sebastian. They laughed and smiled. Chandler couldn't throw up that meal. They played lacrosse together for a bit, and Chandler skipped dinner for the next three days before weighing himself.

159.2.

None of his clothes fit him anymore. He still wore them anyway. He got hit at his school and they called him fat when he inhaled three servings of pasta, pizza, and brownies in one go. He threw it up immediately afterwards anyway. He had another muffin when he was off. His Mother was displeased by the amount of food Chandler was eating. He'd eaten three bowls of macaroni and cheese and had purged on and off for about eleven times that day before three pm. He felt sick, nauseated. He doubt he lost any weight and every time he passed a mirror, he wanted to cry a little and cut his body into pieces.

By the time it was dinner, his Mother was definitely not letting him have anything. "Don't," Chandler was starving. He hadn't kept anything in his body. Even an apple would suffice. He needed something because his stomach was so warm with crippling pain.

"Chandler, you're not exactly model thin—"

Chandler checked the weight of one of his favourite models soon afterwards. 119. He can be that. He can be pretty. 119 was just borderline underweight for his height. He will be perfect.

158.8.

He weighed that after a shower, full of binge food before he threw up the soup he'd managed to binge on when his Mother was at work.

156.4.

He had lost 20lbs. He looked like he'd gained them to Chandler's distorted mind. He suddenly realised Sebastian was right. It was still all so fat. He called Sebastian and they talked for a few minutes. Sebastian came by next day, and they ate bread together. Pepperoni bread. A lot of it. Chandler purged it, exercised the calories away, and even used ten laxatives.

155.8. 154.0. 153.8.

Next three days, all of them with falling numbers. Chandler had barely eaten since the pepperoni bread binge with Sebastian, opting for soup and carrots. He binged on the fourth day, and then threw that back up. Sebastian was drunk, called him fat, lazy and good for nothing. By the time Sebastian sobered up, he remembered nothing of it. He sat down beside a mute Chandler.

"You look depressed," Sebastian said. "I didn't think it was possible."

Chandler gave him a soft smile, and then broke down into tears.

"Fuck," Sebastian cupped Chandler's face. Sebastian didn't hug him or touch him or hold him close anymore. He knew it was because he'd asked Sebastian not to but he can't help but feel if he was thinner, then they would be holding each other. Chandler, you always screw up everything. "Calm down, okay? Calm the fuck down."

Chandler sobbed for a few moments, and then they laid in silence together.

"What happened to you, Chan? Us? We used to be best friends," Sebastian finally said after a while.

Chandler looked up at Sebastian. "You got really drunk."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I fucked you."

Chandler shut his eyes. "What do you remember?"

Sebastian shrugged.

"You called me fat, lazy and good for nothing," Chandler finally said after a while. "When you were really drunk. You also called me short, but I guess that's true to you because you're really tall…and…"

"I fucking said what?" Sebastian looked furious. "Holy fucking shit, Chan."

"You didn't—"

"I don't care if you were five hundred pounds, chained to a bed and can't actually do anything, I had no fucking right to say that. Slap me. Slap me right now."

"No!" Chandler's eyes bubbled. "Please, Bassie, because you know my Father hurt my Mother….I don't want to…ever, please…"

Sebastian took a deep breath. "Dammit, Chan. I'm not good for you. Maybe…I can just not call you when I get drunk and need my ass driven home or something. We should like…hang out weekdays. You used to come over all the fucking time. My Mom loved feeding you."

"Well, I loved being fed," Chandler chirped.

"Classic Chandler," Sebastian said.

What was that supposed to mean? Chandler suddenly felt the need to not eat. So he didn't. Then he did. A lot of raisin bread and butter and it was so easy coming up too. It was all so pretty and buttery and fluffy.

152.6.

"You eat like a pig. Where does all the food go?" Charlotte teased him.

Chandler shrugged, and ate the rest of his macaroni and cheese with zeal. She pinched his cheek and he giggled. When she was out of eyesight, he dumped the rest of his bowl, walked upstairs, threw up, took a few laxatives, and went to bed, only to be woken up at four am to dash straight towards the bathroom. His stomach hurt him again, cutting like those painful ribbons. Except Chandler really thought he deserved it right now. He just wanted to get a bit lower so he can feel pretty and good about himself, but that wasn't going to happen.

His new school noticed the weight loss and had already made fun of him lightly about it. His pants were so baggy that he had to wear a belt with them otherwise they will actually literally fall. His shoe size even went down. He sometimes texted Sebastian in class asking him about answers to things and for him to explain some things. Sebastian was really smart, but he didn't put in the effort at all. They sometimes still met, laughed, but it wasn't really the same. Sebastian was going off to Paris for a few months now and their last meeting was so awkward.

"Goodbye, Chan," Sebastian murmured.

"Okay," Chandler looked up. "Goodbye."

Sebastian was just about to leave, but he came back running after. He twirled Chandler and they were making out for a while with so much heat and wildness that Chandler had definitely forgotten himself. He blushed at the hickeys on his neck, tightened his scarf. His lips were red and swollen. Sebastian's flight was in five minutes.

They didn't say anything. Chandler was so confused. Just before Sebastian went, he gave Chandler one last kiss, something soft and delicate.

"I love you, Chandler Kiehl."

Chandler was frozen at the confession. "I…I love you too, Sebastian," he whispered as Sebastian turned around. Chandler was almost euphoric. "That was really, really romantic," he told himself, still stunned as he stood up to leave the airport.

Someone was selling hot pretzels. He spent the rest of his allowance on pretzels that he will inevitably throw up. He wanted to buy flowers for his Mother's birthday. He'd never felt more disgusting in his life, as he'd given his Mother a gift he'd never opened from Sebastian. She smiled, said she wanted this watch for months.

"It's almost $500—how did you get this?"

Chandler felt even worse now. Sebastian had given him a nearly five hundred dollar watch and Chandler didn't even bother with it. He looked at his phone sometimes and wondered if Sebastian was going to call back. He texted him: how are ya, blonde bitch?

Chandler smiled weakly. For the first time in a long time, Chandler honestly replied: lonely.

151.5.

Chandler wondered how long he can go on. His knuckles were bruised. His body battered. His whole room was littered with wrappers. He had stolen money from the table his Mother kept – all one-fifty to buy food so he can throw it up again. He had never felt more horrible in his life. He wanted to cry and be held by Sebastian. He wanted Sebastian to roll his eyes and tell him that dammit, Chan, you're being way too fucking melodramatic. He instead got on Facebook, talked to Sebastian, who sent him hearts, many winks and comments about getting so drunk out of his mind that he had somehow ingested five tubes of Pringles.

Chandler shifted uncomfortably as he had thrown up one last bit of chocolate. His body was going to break on him one day. How long could he take, throwing up all of his food? The breath on his mouth was rancid. He had literally binged and purged at around twenty-five times that day alone. He was scared to leave. All he wanted to do was cry into his hands and die.

At the last bit, Chandler stoically stared at his ceiling. He honestly, truly wanted to die…

dammit, Chan, you're being way too fucking melodramatic.

150.2.

Charlotte made Chandler sit down and eat soup. She said he wouldn't let him leave until he finished it. It was the worst thing he ever had to puke in his life, having it all come back up again. Chandler would never forget how shaky his hand was, how unsteady. Sebastian had posted a new profile picture three hours later. Chandler was happy because Sebastian was miserable without him. Then he felt horrible, so he went to eat a yoghurt, threw that up and then realised instead of binging like he used to. He was barely eating, but still had a compulsive need for everything he consumed to end up in the porcelain bowl.

149.6.

Chandler finally saw the scale move a few days later. He waited to feel happy. He was nearly thirty pounds down from his high weight, but he was still so fat. He looked the same as always. Chandler wished he can take a knife and cut the lard that was consuming his body. He wished he can take a knife, cut out his lard, and then slit his wrists and die on the front porch.

148.2.

'Fucking answer my messages, Chan. What the fuck is going on with you?'

147.8.

'I'm sorry, Bas. I'm just really lonely right now.'

146.0.

'So you're not answering my calls? Classic Chandler. '

145.0.

'I want to see you, Bas.'

142.5.

'You will. Hold on your grease, blondie.'

141.8.

'When?'

140.5.

'Soon, Chan.'

139.4.

'Promise?'

138.6.

'I promise, Chandler. Fucking Hell, why do you need these damned promises? You know me. I won't ditch your blonde ass for anything.'

137.2.

That was how Chandler ended up, holding a bouquet of flowers, and a box of raspberry white chocolate truffles when Sebastian walked over to him. Chandler looked down at his feet, as Sebastian's eyes widened. "Fucking Hell," he said as Chandler fixed one of the baggiest jackets he had. Chandler had been accustomed to wearing a shit tonne of baggy clothes so that his weight loss wouldn't show. His Batman jacket was a saviour. His sweaters were a Godsend. The existence of belts made him happy.

"You look different," Sebastian stated, taking Chandler's hand in his own. "Fuck. I must've gained a shit ton of weight because of my Nona since your wrist is so fucking small to me right now."

"You gained weight?" Chandler chirped.

"Fifteen pounds of it," Sebastian finally stated. Chandler looked at Sebastian.

"Where?"

"Shut up."

Chandler smiled at Sebastian. "Bassie, I never asked you about the kiss."

Sebastian didn't respond to that. He took him to lunch. Chandler wouldn't eat any of his meal until Sebastian had answered him. Sebastian had sighed, giving in, and then giving Chandler's hand a gentle squeeze. "Do you?"

"Want to be together?" Chandler asked.

Sebastian nodded his head slowly afterwards.

Chandler slowly nodded his head mutely afterwards. "I want to. Who else would make me feel special?"

"Bitch," Sebastian smirked.

"Meanie," Chandler pouted, and then smiled.

"I'll buy you ice-cream," Sebastian smirked. "Caramel with extra crushed KitKats."

Considering Chandler had binged and purged on that before, his stomach was hurting him at the thought of another one of those, so it really wasn't his fault that his stomach rejected it the minute it passed through his lips without any help from Chandler's knuckles.

136.8.

Charlotte had stared at Chandler as he was taking off his shirt, sliding on another one of his sweaters.

"Chandler."

Chandler had nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to look at his Mother, whose eyes were filled with concern. "You're getting awfully thin, don't you think?"

"I eat everything," Chandler reminded her. "I'm gonna like have a peanut butter sandwich right now."

Chandler walked downstairs as if to prove a point. Peanut butter sandwich, and then he met Sebastian. They had milkshakes and Chandler threw up in the shop bathroom.

135.0.

"I just noticed," Sebastian said as he looked at the tag on Chandler's clothing, apparently not swayed by it at all. "You've lost a fuck tonne of weight."

Chandler looked up from his dish. "Hmm?"

Sebastian stared at him for the longest of moment. "Alright, babe, I gotta know how much you weigh."

Chandler blushed. "Guess."

"145."

"Minus ten," Chandler whispered.

"What?" Sebastian snapped, glaring at him. "You were just forty pounds fatter three days ago."

Chandler blushed. "I missed you." He frowned and Sebastian just shook his head.

"You look horrible," Sebastian muttered. "Not because you're too fat or something like that. Because you look shitlessly depressed to be honest, Chan. It's kinda worrying me."

Chandler looked down. "I'm really sad, Bas."

"Yeah, I know, you goof," Sebastian laid a hand on Chandler's hand. They stared at each other.

"Okay. Let go. I want to finish my pasta. It's delicious!" Chandler tried to keep up a good attitude. He had to cut dinner short, leaving just a bit, and then went outside to call someone. He threw up in the bushes. If he'd 'gone to the bathroom' immediately after a meal, Sebastian would've caught on, but after the 'call', he went back. Chandler declined ice-cream.

"You look sick now," Sebastian murmured. "Can I hold you now, Chandler?"

Chandler slowly nodded his head. They went back home. For the first time in a long time, Chandler let Sebastian hold him. Their bodies together. Sebastian laid a hand on Chandler's hip. "Your hipbone is fucking sharp," Sebastian said, rubbing the hipbone gently. "What have you been doing? Throwing up?"

Chandler feigned a look of disgust. "Ew."

"Of course," Sebastian rolled his eyes. He yawned. "Classic Chandler."

"Mmhmm…" Chandler's eyelids shut tightly, as he pressed his head against Sebastian's shoulder. It felt like he was finally, finally home.

134.4.

That was his weight when Sebastian shoved him on the scale the day after. Sebastian had proceeded to shove things covered in chocolate all day. Chandler had been purging in and out of a cup for most of the day. By the end of the day, he was pressed up against the bedside, crying from the sheer amount of pain in his stomach. Sebastian had fed him exactly what he used to eat; nothing more – and now, his stomach couldn't tolerate it after eating frozen grapes for days.

133.8.

Sebastian had been saying stuff about Blaine and Kurt. Chandler felt queasy whenever he said he had a crush on Blaine. Chandler admitted he had a crush on Kurt. Sebastian, in response, made a face that made Chandler giggle. Sebastian laid a hand to Chandler's hip, bringing him close. "How was NYU for you, babe?"

Chandler bit his lower lip, whimpering.

"Fuck them," Sebastian said, not really caring about anyone's side of the story. "You sing like you're on constant orgasm to me no matter what anyone says."

Chandler blushed deeply, burying his head into Sebastian's shoulder.

132.0.

His Mother made him his favourite cake. Chandler looked down at it. "You said I can't have any of this."

Charlotte blushed. "Chandler, eat your cake."

"No," Chandler whispered. "I don't want any of it. You didn't want to give some to me before. I don't want it now. I'm really fat."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Chandler, your weight is quite blatantly worrying me. And this time, it's heading in the opposite direction."

Chandler looked down at the cake. "I don't want it."

131.0.

Chandler had to go back to his Father for now. After two hours of driving and nausea, Chandler stepped inside of the house and fell asleep for seven hours. He did not feel like eating at his Father's house. It brought back bad memories. He ate eight cups of frozen grapes and slept for most of the day.

130.0.

Sebastian took him out to eat, and fed him anything that was edible, fattening and contained as many calories as possible.

"You're not gaining any weight," Sebastian murmured. "To be honest, Chan, you look sort of sick."

Chandler just shrugged. "I'm okay." He murmured through his ice-cream cup. "I want like a lot of garlic bread."

"Come on. It's on me," Sebastian watched Chandler eat en pieces of garlic bread; two pieces of pizza, and then throw it all up involuntarily. He'd never felt so bad in his life and his stomach felt concave and hollow a few hours after as Sebastian drove him back home to Chase and slept on the ground. Chase was homophobic so Sebastian never did sleep on the same bed just in case he'd find him. Between three am and six am, Sebastian transferred himself onto Chandler's bed to hold him for a few moments.

Sebastian stared at Chandler's face. His sickly grey pallor. His cold body. Chandler really did look like shit sometimes. "Hey, Chan?"

"Mmmhmm?" Chandler mumbled sleepily.

"Wanna know something?" Sebastian heaved out.

Chandler shrugged, eye still shut tightly.

"I think you should gain forty pounds and eat pizza with me sometimes." Chandler smiled weakly at this, as Sebastian kissed his cheek. Chandler was sound asleep. "I love you, Sleeping Beauty."

129.5.

Ten more pounds and he can get himself off this Hell train, he told himself, chanting into his mind. All he needed his ten more pounds and he'd be so pretty he can be a model. Chase still called him fat and told him to stop eating completely. He still stared at Chandler when he was getting anything out of the fridge, even if it was a liquid. Chase found Chandler throwing up on countless occasions. He just didn't care.

Next time Chandler took a bottle of water from the fridge, uncapped it, Chase asked him, "Are you gonna throw that up too?"

So Chandler did. Then he realised that he must be sick of something if he felt better after throwing up water. He got Kurt on the phone after a really long time and they talked a lot. He was smiling and beaming afterwards. When Kurt explained his and Blaine's relationship, Chandler felt kind of sad because he knew they wouldn't last really long. He called Sebastian and told him about Blaine and Kurt's relationship.

"I don't give a fuck," Sebastian said after Chandler was done. "You know why? Because I've got your cute ass. I don't need Blaine."

Chandler smiled brightly and laughed.

It was nine pm when Chandler called Sebastian. By the time it was two am, Chase very blatantly yelled, "GET OFF THAT FUCKING PHONE, CHANDLER."

"What the fuck did he just say?" Sebastian growled darkly.

"Nothing," Chandler quickly cut. "I gotta get off the phone—"

"Meet me. Park? It's late. Nobody's there."

So Chandler tip-toed against his Father, and ended up being thrown against the wall for going out that late. It was definitely not the first time, but this time, it left bruising. Obvious bruising. Chase blamed Chandler for bruising himself up. Apparently, it was really easy to hurt himself and get bruised and everything if he was tinier. Chase had done nothing different but now, Chandler had bruises to showcase off. After Chandler particularly had his whole back full of bruises, and his arms glowing purple, Chase shoved a jacket towards him and told him to just fucking leave right now.

It was still so cold. Chandler didn't quite understand. He was wearing three layers of clothing. When Sebastian found him shivering, he took him home. He told him to take off his jacket so he can give him a coat. Chandler shook his head.

Sebastian suddenly caught on. "What are you hiding from me, Chandler?"

"My Father shoved me down the stairs."

"He did what?" Sebastian's eyes darkened. "Gimmie your jacket, Chandler."

Chandler threw off his jacket so that Sebastian can give him a coat. Sebastian stared at the bruising for a few moments before he sighed. "Has this happened before?"

"It always…." Chandler looked away from Sebastian. "I just bruise really easy right now."

"Chandler, you're a fucking stick. Of course you'll bruise up real easy now," Sebastian buttoned the coat for Chandler. "Tell Lottie."

"What?" Chandler was thrown back. "Mom?"

"Yes, Chandler," Sebastian's eyes darkened. "Your Mom left that bastard because he hit her, right? She doesn't know a damn thing about what he does to you. And if he lays another hand on you, I will kill him. How could anyone in the fucking world hurt you?"

Chandler looked down, eyes soft.

"Don't tell me you think you deserve this, Chan." Sebastian's voice was hard as he pulled Chandler's chin up, staring at those soft eyes.

Chandler looked away.

"Fuck," Sebastian just cursed. "Fucking fuck. Come on. I'm gonna make you some hot chocolate and Mom made those cupcakes you like."

"Hey, Bassie," Chandler said, as he stepped out from the bedside. "How come your Mother always makes stuff but never eats it?"

Sebastian looked away. "Because she thinks she's fat, so sometimes when she gains like a pound or something stupid like that, she crash diets until she loses that stupid pound. She eats. She just doesn't gain weight. Like ever."

Chandler nodded his head at this new information, not knowing what to do with it. Sebastian made him hot chocolate and gave him a three hundred calorie cupcake. Chandler kept the four hundred calories down for the first time in whatever long. Chandler got up at seven am to weigh himself on Sebastian's scale.

128.6.

"Your scale is really inaccurate." Chandler said. No way. He kept disgusting cupcake and hot chocolate in his body. He should be up ten pounds by now or something.

Sebastian stretched from his bed. "Yeah. It shows a weight five pounds higher than the normal. Sorry. I tweaked mine in so when my Mom tells me to weigh on my scale, she doesn't go on her stupid 'you lost a pound? I have to lose ten!' spree of hers. Ugh. She loses ten and puts on ten. Like I said, always the same weight." Sebastian chuckled under his breath.

"Why?" Sebastian added on. "Upset you "gained" five pounds? Actually, I have to see this—"

Sebastian practically went white seeing the number on his scale. He didn't need a calculator to do the Math. He still did anyway. 123.6. "Chandler, what the fuck are you doing? Whatever it is, stop it."

"I'm not doing anything," Chandler lied through his teeth.

"You're a terrible liar," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Chandler looked away from Sebastian's eyes, not meeting them. Sebastian caught on slightly. "It's not something I want to know, is it?" his voice was getting darker, demanding. Chandler knew it was probably for his own good. Sebastian wouldn't let anyone hurt Chandler—not even Chandler hurting himself. "Tell me."

"I throw up," Chandler quickly admitted.

"Yeah, right, you hate throwing…" Sebastian looked at Chandler's eyes, catching the glint of silvery emotion. "…you…you really do, don't you?"

Chandler slowly nodded his head as Chandler hopped off the scale. Sebastian grabbed his wrist. "Well, you're not getting out of breakfast with me. You're eating and I'm going to make you sit down for like half an hour before you go."

Chandler didn't really have to tell Sebastian that he can stay there for an hour and he can still throw up the contents of his stomach. He ate anything Sebastian shoved at him. He actually timed them after for thirty minutes, and when the ticker off his clock went, Sebastian sighed. "You can go home. Do you want me to drive you? I'm still calling Lottie. If you're still with that bastard by the end of this week, I will personally make you stay here with me at least, but if he hurts you, I don't care how—you call me, alright? You call me."

Chandler slowly nodded his head. He got out of the house, practically ran towards the park, threw up in a bin in under five minutes and left for home. Chase called him stupid, complacent, short, gay, idiotic, and fat in the five minutes that Chandler was in the house. The next few hours were Hell, he found out that Chandler was actually gay from someone who wasn't Chandler and for the next three days, Chandler was pretty much locked in his room for the next five days, surviving on whatever bread and water Chase did give him.

Sixth day, he managed to get out – run – from his household via getting out from his window – jumping from balcony and then maneuvering his way down a few windows. He called Sebastian the minute he thought he was as far away from the house as possible from a pay phone. "Sebastian," Chandler called out.

"Chandler, what the fuck? It's four am! And why haven't you been answering my calls?"

"I need you to open the door for me," Chandler whispered, as he shut the phone and ran off to Sebastian's household. He didn't need a map or a sense of direction. He knew this road, these places, and managed to bump into a few small girls that said he looked sick and tired and their Mother gave him five dollars. Chandler wondered how he looked like because he hadn't seen a mirror in a while. Chandler managed to get to Sebastian's hour eleven minutes later. Sebastian was staring at him as if something was completely wrong with him.

"Spill," Sebastian muttered the minute Chandler walked inside.

"He found out I was gay."

Sebastian didn't need Chandler to say anymore, but he asked anyway. "So what did he do?"

"He locked me in my room and made me starve. It hurts really bad. I got dizzy. I don't know how I got here." Chandler shuddered. "I really just want to sleep now."

Sebastian nodded. Chandler heard Sebastian call Charlotte .Sebastian proceeded to feed him for the next two days. Chandler couldn't get everything out but he tried. Sebastian was on constant surveillance of whatever Chandler ate. Chandler had never had so much junk food in his life, and that said a lot. Sebastian found him throwing up a few days after.

"How?" Sebastian looked like he was going to break down. "How the fuck can you deliberately stick your hand down your throat?"

Chandler didn't meet Sebastian's eyes. "Easy, Bassie. I'm just fat."

"What? You're fucking diluted." Sebastian shook his head. "Chandler, do you have any idea how you sound like to me? Because you're thinner than anyone I know and to be honest, it fucking scares me right now. Get up. Right now."

Chandler felt Sebastian pull off his shirt as Sebastian rested his chin on Chandler's shoulder. "Look?"

Chandler didn't look at the mirror. "Don't make me look, Bassie."

Sebastian pulled Chandler's chin up. He hated it, but he seriously needed Chandler to see it. Chandler looked at the mirror and then pinched his stomach as if it was full of fat. Sebastian grabbed Chandler's wrist. "Stop doing that. There is nothing there for you to hold onto, alright?"

Sebastian laid a hand on Chandler's side, as he kissed Chandler's cheek. "Look."

Chandler looked away from the mirror the second he met with it. Sebastian's eyes burned colder. "You really can't see it, can you? You really think you're fat, Chan, don't you?"

Chandler slowly nodded his head as salty tears streamed down his cheeks. "Mmhmm."

"How?" Sebastian just shook his head. "Chandler, you are fucking small. It creeps me out just how thin you are, right now, okay? It's like I decided to go on a crash diet for two months. What would you say?"

Chandler looked appalled. "You can't! You can't do that! Bas, how—?"

"Exactly," Sebastian quickly snapped. "Do you want to know the difference between our weights, Chandler? How much more I weigh than you? Stop fucking throwing up, Chandler! You know what will happen?"

Chandler shook his head, but he knew. Hot tears were falling from his face. Sebastian was furious.

"YOU WILL DIE, CHNADLER. YOU WILL DIE."

Chandler shut his eyes. "Okay," he said after a while.

"Okay?" Sebastian repeated Chandler's words. "Okay?"

Chandler nodded his head, as those tears started up into his eyes again. "Okay," he said, voice quieter. Sebastian looked completely thrown back. Chandler opened his eyes and saw that Sebastian – Sebastian – had tears in his eyes as well. Sebastian shook his head.

"No, Chandler," Sebastian said in a quiet voice. "It is not okay if you die. Do you know what happens if you die?"

Chandler shook his head as Sebastian cupped Chandler's face, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"It will fucking kill me," Sebastian finally said, "If you die. Don't you get it, Chan? Fuck it. I don't care about anyone in this world but you."

Chandler looked up at Sebastian with soft eyes. "I have to go—"

"No," Sebastian pulled Chandler's chin up. "You don't. Chan."

Chandler looked up at him. "What am I supposed to do, Bassie?" he was honestly asking. He really just didn't know. Those soft blue eyes that looked like they've been put through Hell.

Sebastian laughed. "Fucking eat! Just eat! Eat everything but goddammit, just eat…please. And for fuck's sake, keep it down."

"Then what?" Chandler murmured. "Then what happens?"

"Then you can be happy! Chandler, you're fucking miserable," Chandler winced as if Sebastian had just told him something cold, but it was just naturally the truth. "Have I ever lied to you, Chandler?"

Chandler shook his head.

"Do this for me," Sebastian said, grabbing Chandler's shoulders. "You're every fucking thing to me. Everything. Nobody else fucking matters to me, but you, you stupid bitch."

Chandler's eyes were thick of tears. "Blaine too?"

"Especially Blaine, you whore," Sebastian hugged him tightly as Chandler's hands were around Sebastian's waist. "Chandler, you can't live like this. It's fucking killing you."

Chandler nodded.

"Try? For me?"

Sebastian saw Chandler nod his head softly.

122.4.

Chandler, look at how fat you are – he can't be fucking serious! Disgusting. Piggy piggy Chandler. Everything's a lie. You need to weigh lower and lower than that. 119 is the point., Chan. He won't even notice. Chandler looked away from the mirror, face full of disgust. Sebastian wasn't here now. Sebastian would never know. He just wouldn't throw up. He'd just not eat. He didn't need to. He can survive on coffee, diet soda and tea. He can be pretty and beautiful and stun the world with a smile.

121.6.

First message on Chandler's voice mail. "Fucking pick-up, Chan. You're worrying me. You're worrying Lottie."

120.2.

His Father and Mother were screaming. Chandler couldn't take it. He ate grapes and coffee and spat out muffins in napkins. He couldn't take the screaming as she took Chandler into her arms and promised to take him away from everyone. She held his hand and led him back towards her car. A few hours later, Charlotte was calling police people and Chandler had a box of pizza in front of him that he wanted to poke a stick with just to make sure nothing was alive. It looked delicious but Chandler can see the grease. He still ate all of it, ran outside afterwards to purge it out. He can't handle being caught again. He just can't.

Chandler finally answered the phone. "I'm with Mom now."

"Good," Sebastian said. "How's your eating?"

"I had pizza."

"Did you keep it down?" Sebastian's voice was dangerously cold.

Chandler didn't say anything for a while as he sobbed on the other line. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'm sorry."

"I love you, Chandler." Sebastian's voice was also full of pain. "Fuck it. I love you. I love you."

"Please, stop, Bassie. You're making me feel bad."

"I'm sorry, Chan. What else am I supposed to do?" Sebastian said, voice slightly edgy. "I fucking love you, Chan."

Chandler was full-on sobbing now. It broke Sebastian's heart. He still kept on going.

"I love you. And you're killing me on the inside. I fucking love you—"

"Shut up!" Chandler's eyes had hard tears running down them. "I don't…don't…"

"Don't what?" Sebastian's voice was a little sharper now.

Chandler shrugged as if Sebastian can see him. His trembling hand was trying to hold the phone as tightly as possible. "I don't know."

"Well, neither do I, Chan and that's okay," Sebastian began, "normally, it's okay when we don't know shit, but here's a question you have to know the answer to: when will it all end? When can you stop being this crazy psychopathic bitch and start loving me and we can sit down and I don't know, write poetry to each other or some shit, and I can feed you and not worry about you upchucking that?"

Chandler didn't answer.

Sebastian laughed humourlessly. "There is no end, is there?"

Chandler stepped on his scale. 119.0. He was supposed to be perfect. Ethereal. Beautiful. He wasn't.

"There is no end, is there, Chandler?"


i thought it was fitting that this fanfic doesn't have a real ending to Chandler especially with the last statement. otherwise, cheers xo Peanut Butter/Sam