'What's been going on with you lately?' Rafael nudged Otabek gently. They were sat in Rafael's tiny student housing and for the past few days, Otabek had been very distant and oblivious to everything. It probably had something to do with the fact that it was also a few days since Yuri had kissed him. It played on his mind a lot, mainly because he felt massively conflicted about the whole ordeal. On the one hand, he really liked Yuri and now that there was certainty in a return of feelings he wanted to pursue it. On the other, Yuri was just sixteen. Legally able to make decisions, yes, but still three years younger than him. Only just sixteen, too. The only problem was he found it impossible to tell him no because he had no happiness in his life so to deny him anything felt like a cardinal sin of the highest order. They'd been lazily texting each other every now and then, just quick check-ins; nothing that suggested any progression in their relationship. So they had kissed a few times- did that mean anything had changed?
It was thoughts such as these that held his attention with a vice-like grip, not relinquishing its hold until Rafael pointed it out to him.
'A lot,' Otabek shrugged, running a hand through his hair and trying to fix it into place again. 'Yuri, mainly.'
'Oh, that guy at the park? He was okay.'
'Right?'
'You're into him?'
Obviously Otabek's intimations hadn't been very subtle.
'I guess, yeah.'
'Is he into you?'
'Yeah.'
'Isn't he only a kid, though?'
'Sixteen. So yeah, a kid. I feel terrible about it... He's not even mature for his age. Does that make me a creep?'
'I can't tell you what to do,' Rafael stated apologetically. 'Do what you think's right.'
'I don't know what's right.'
'I don't know, follow your heart.'
'I'm so confused with what my heart wants! I want to make him happy, but I don't want to corrupt him. I can't abandon him though,' He got the idea that dropping him would only make his sickness worse, and he couldn't take the guilt if it should have any adverse effect on Yuri. He still had his heroism complex and wanted nothing more than to save this waif of a kid from himself.
'I don't think you're that special,' Rafael chuckled, a teasing tone entering the conversation. 'The kid can survive a little heartbreak.'
'I don't know that he can; he's anorexic. He's been in a bad way and I'm worried that I might push him over the edge,' He couldn't keep the slight tremor from his voice, and Rafael squeezed his arm in camaraderie.
'You can't force yourself to like him just because you don't want to hurt his feelings.'
'But I do like him!'
'Then there's your answer. You're both consenting, able-minded people. How bad is it?'
'How bad is wh- oh. Bad, really bad. He tries to cover it up and distract me, but I've seen the times he's coughed up blood.'
Thinking about it brought both tears to his eyes and bile rising up his throat; he saw how desperate Yuri was to hide it, but that half hour sat outside his bathroom listening to him torturing himself had been possibly one of the worst moments of his life. He'd been just seconds away from breaking down the door, and when Yuri had finally emerged looking like some apparition of death, it had greatly disturbed Otabek to see the blood beading at the corner of his lip and staining the lines of his palm. The last he'd seen him, too, his mouth had tasted faintly of blood. Perhaps he'd been imagining it, or maybe he'd bitten his lip in anxiety. That wasn't the half of it, however- holding him was scary. He wanted to touch him, but each time he did his fingers were met with solid bone and they quickly retracted again in perturbation. You only had to look at him to see he was treading a cautious line along the verge of death.
'Are you really crying?' Rafael half-laughed, but it was an exclamation of companionship rather than one of a sardonic nature.
'No, I'm-' Otabek smiled and wiped his hazy lashline, clearing his vision some. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. 'I'm not crying. Just a bit emotional, is all.'
'If anybody can help him, it's you.'
This encouraging statement did little to revitalise his downcast spirits, but he appreciated it all the same.
'Don't think about him being sick if it upsets you. Tell me why you like him instead,' Rafael swiftly diverted the conversation to something less miserable. Otabek frowned, his mind attempting to pinpoint something specific. Was it something generic like he made him laugh, or was it more? He failed to come up with a solid answer, but he didn't see this as a lack of things to like. It was the general impression- it was the way he felt that mattered, not why.
'I just do,' He related, knowing it sounded shaky but able to say nothing else on the matter. 'But god, is it bad. Sixteen... Jesus.'
'Three years isn't catastrophic. Besides, he's legal, so it's not like-'
'Ugh. Don't even insinuate anything,' Otabek shuddered. He felt like if he did anything more than gently embrace Yuri he'd snap as easily as a twig. 'He's so innocent.'
'I used to be innocent,' Rafael fixed him with a dead stare.
'I'm sorry!' Otabek rolled his eyes. They had a strange history and it was something Rafael liked to bring up constantly. 'Let's just talk about something else, okay?'
Rafael grunted and left it. They had more important things to sort out anyway- namely Rafael's impending birthday and consequent party. He was planning to go big as he was turning twenty and had decided that this was more important than his mildly disappointing eighteenth. They'd organised it for that Friday night and everybody had been buzzing about it for months since they'd sent out invitations via Facebook. It was going to be huge and Otabek couldn't wait- he'd not been to a party in a few weeks and he was beginning to feel the same itching surge of boredom that made him want to get people drunk and make them tell him their life stories.
'I have an idea,' Rafael piped up as they ordered red cups and so on. 'You should invite Yuri.'
'Yuri?' Otabek's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't even thought of that, not for a moment. 'He's sixteen. He can't come.'
'Too bad. I think he'd like it- you, plied with alcohol, and him able to forget things for a while. He seemed normal to me when I met him, but I think it had something to do with him being drunk.'
'I don't know, it's...' He didn't want to spin off the same old excuse of wanting to protect him, but that was what it came down to. It didn't seem safe. 'I'll talk to him.'
'I can keep an eye on him. What's the worst that could happen?'

After days of being ignored almost unanimously, Yuri had become something of a celebrity once more after mentioning offhandedly that he'd been invited to a party with Otabek. Apparently the parties he went to were crazy- the girls who stalked his Instagram drummed this into him fairly quickly, and once everyone else had started talking to him again somebody had pointed out the hickey. It had quickly spiralled into a virulent and mocking debate within his friends because they were all astonished that a girl had given someone a hickey. Of course they assumed that Yuri had been getting off with a girl. They all pressed him hard for details and he revealed nothing, claiming it was just a common-or-garden bruise. Little did they know...
'Can you take me as a plus-one?' Minami bugged him, cajoling him with boundless energy.
'No,' Yuri answered resolutely, the same answer he'd had to give everyone else asking the exact same thing. They only wanted to go so they'd be tagged in a photo and gain followers, so what was the point? Besides, he got the feeling that Otabek didn't just want to dance at the party. He had heard from all his friends all the things they got up to at parties that he missed due to fear that he'd be made to eat or he'd accidentally spill his guts about his mental anguish, and they all made it sound like a massive orgy. Youthful exaggeration of course, but still potent enough imagery that it had Yuri quivering a little in his size-four boots. He couldn't outwardly give voice to his concerns to his friends due to Otabek being a guy and all, but he decided to elicit advice by some other means- under the guise of it being a girl he was so worried about.
'So hypothetically speaking,' He began as they all sat down for lunch, trying to ignore that he again had taken just an apple and was rolling it around the table distractedly with no intent to eat it. 'If there was a girl at this party that may or may not have given me a hickey, would she expect something if I said I'd go with her?'
'She's friends with Otabek? Must be hot,' Michele grinned, nudging him. 'Of course she'll be expecting something. Girls always do at parties.'
Yuri was disgruntled by what he said, unable to help but find it more than slightly chauvinist.
'What would she be expecting?' He twiddled the stalk of the apple around, watching it spin.
'What do you think?'
'Umm, I don't know. That's why I'm asking.'
'Sex, probably. It's just what you do if a girl wants to see you at a party. You're such a massive virgin, I can't believe you have to ask.'
Yuri joined in with the raucous laughter, but underneath the jovial façade he was quaking with fear. He didn't really want to do anything, but if Otabek was expecting it, how could he not? He didn't want to disappoint, nor did he want to ruin Otabek's night. Also troubling him, although slightly further back in his mind where he tried to contain it before it could pierce him too far, was the main reason for his fear; he was desperately plain. There was nothing of interest about him. Otabek could have his pick of the lot- why didn't he go for Rafael? The two seemed to get along (very well given what had happened at the park) and Rafael was better looking and, Yuri did not hesitate to think, had a better body. He had to maintain his interest as best as he could manage and the only way he could think of doing this was to offer himself up like a sacrificial virgin. It certainly felt that way given his disinclination to engage in anything, but what choice did he have? It wasn't as if he was armed with a charming, beguiling personality or looks to any degree. He wouldn't say his face was ugly but his body was a turnoff if ever there was one. The idea of baring his fat-infested skin was torturous. He couldn't stand the thought of Otabek seeing the disgusting excesses of his stomach or how wide and highly his thunder thighs were. He had to lose some weight before the party, whatever the means and whatever the cost.

Yuri looked worse than usual when Otabek picked him up late Friday evening. He looked somehow frighteningly adorable in an oversized sweater, something characteristic of him, and black jeans. He was wearing little black biker boots and despite the fact that he again looked like Death personified he looked gorgeous. Otabek would have to keep a close eye on him at the party- both because he looked like he'd had a rough few days and because people would probably be throwing themselves at him. The way they could attack impressionable newbies like a ferocious pack of hyenas often perturbed him. He'd seen it before; some new kid with a pretty face gets invited and within a few hours they're almost knocked out with alcohol and possibly drugs and somebody is trying to drag them off to a nearby bedroom. Otabek had stopped this happening every time he'd seen it, although it made him sick to think that there might have been times he hadn't because he'd not been there or he'd been looking away.
'How do you feel?' Was his first question. He knew the answer would be a lie but it felt like a social rite of passage and therefore he was obliged to enquire after his health, even if the answer was obvious in the sallow tones of Yuri's face.
'Fine,' He mumbled, his fingers intertwining together and clenching hard.
'Nervous?'
'Hmm?'
'I get it. Don't worry, I'll look after you.'
'Oh, thanks,' Yuri hadn't been thinking of that. He'd been thinking of what he knew he had to do. It struck him as odd that he didn't want to do anything because from an early age he'd been told by all his friends and the media that sex was the goal, the key element to a relationship. Men on panel shows talking about how much they wanted it, men chasing after women in films, all his friends talking about it. Hell, even virginity was frowned upon for boys- he remembered that he'd been called virgin as an insult earlier. On the other hand, he knew a lot of girls who had been hounded relentlessly for it. How was it fair that boys expected sex from them, yet when they got it they labelled the girls as 'sluts' and 'easy'? The answer was simple- double standards. Irreversible and as old as time.
'You look angry,' Otabek observed, taking one hand off the wheel to flick a hair hair into place, checking it in the wing mirror. Yuri offered no explanation, instead just staring at him across the car. He kept forgetting that damn kiss. Him. Otabek. More than once. Hickeys. It just wouldn't sink in, however hard he thought about it. With this came a new thought that somehow had not occurred to him yet; he was into boys, and therefore this required openness on his behalf- meaning at some point he'd have to tell his friends. His mother. He hated to disappoint her even more, but it seemed that this was all he was good at these days. With mild amusement he noted to himself that he was becoming more like a girl by the day; first he was obsessed with his body image and had developed anorexia, of all things, as a result, and now he was kissing boys. Not just kissing them- enjoying it. And there would be more in a few hours, he hesitated to add as an uncomfortable afterthought. He didn't really know where they stood, though. Was this a committal thing? Did it have a name? He didn't even notice that the car had stopped until Otabek prodded him gently, snapping him from his reverie. His eyes swivelled to take in their surroundings. They were outside a pokey little cottage, far from any other houses. There was already music playing, so loud it was vibrating the windows of the car and Yuri felt cold trepidation as they walked up to the house, Otabek having produced a sizeable bottle of coconut rum seemingly from out of nowhere. Apparently sensing Yuri's anxiety, he put an arm round his shoulder and squeezed him reassuringly. Yuri ducked out of the way, blushing furiously.
'It's okay,' Otabek had to raise his voice to be heard over the music, despite not even being at the door yet. 'Nobody here cares.'
Yuri opened his mouth to reply but before he could speak Rafael had opened the door and was waving vigorously.
'Hey!' He yelled, swaying slightly on his feet which signified he was already more than a little inebriated. 'Get in here and give me that alcohol!'
He grabbed him by the cheeks and planted a kiss on his forehead, emphasising how short he actually was. Yuri denied to himself that he felt jealousy, but it was a pang of envy he knew well. It wasn't as if they hadn't kissed before...
'And Yuri! Come on, you come with me,' Rafael held out his hand and Yuri took it with great hesitation. The second he did, he was yanked through a tangled mass of bodies into a kitchen where there was a vast array of food and an even wilder variety of alcohol.
'Okay, we have spirits, alcos, beer, cider- nope, we've run out- Tomàs, did you find the other crate? There's also some Malibu there, Kate's got the last of the wine, sorry, but this should do it,' Rafael finished listing it off, although there was much more to choose from than he said, and handed Yuri a glass of punch to start him off.
'I don't think-' Otabek tried to intercept but he was just in time to see Yuri tip it down his throat with reckless abandon. 'Right.'
He picked up a drink himself, not really caring about the taste but more concentrating on the highest percentage he could find. He settled on Bacardi and drunk what he could without wanting to get so bad he couldn't think for himself. He needed to keep an eye out for Yuri, who had just finished his second glass of punch.
'What's the ratio of the punch?' Otabek yelled to Rafael over the pounding bass of the dance music he was blaring.
'Umm... Sirabhi made it. 80% of it's gin I think.'
'That's enough of that, then,' Otabek plucked the glass from Yuri's small hands. 'You can have beer, that's it.'
Yuri was too nervous to argue and picked up a can of beer. For some reason, carbonated drinks seemed less calorifically dense than flat. After he'd finished it, Otabek took him by the hand and led him to where a small crowd of people who were dancing on furniture and pulled him up onto a sofa. Yuri giggled as he was twirled about, a few strangers jigging about with him. He'd never been to a party like this before- usually it was a small group of people he knew trying desperately to get drunk off of Stella and just sitting on sofas talking or roughing it out. Here he was dancing on a sofa with a guy who his friends were all obsessed with and even had a few fanpages (not that he'd checked or anything) at a party with people four or five years older than him, slowly getting drunker and more high-spirited. He spun round and dived to retrieve Otabek and enlist him as his dance partner again, ripping him from the clutches of an almost-naked young woman with bright green hair.
'What about your friend?' She called, and Yuri frowned. She picked up his hand and pressed a pill into it, making him gasp and look quickly to Otabek. He was almost tempted to take it, but of course Otabek would never allow it. He saw the snatch coming before it happened, and the pill was almost automatically back in the hands of its distributor. Yuri was surprised to have seen drugs for real for the first time, but Otabek looked totally nonplussed by it. Looking around, it seemed that a lot of people were probably high now that he thought about it. The green-haired girl was making out with who Rafael had marked out as Kate in a corner and this reminded Yuri what he was supposed to do. Surely Otabek was expecting it. He wasn't entirely certain how to initiate it, but seeing another same-sex couple kissing steeled his nerves enough that he could pluck up the courage to lean against Otabek's chest and rest his hands on his hips, praying that this was what he was supposed to be doing. Otabek took the signal easily and hooked a finger under his chin to tilt his head back and kiss him softly. Yuri sighed and stretched up on his tiptoes so he could reach better.
'Can we go somewhere?' He tipped his head forwards in line with Otabek's ear and whispered this in a low tone.
'Really?' Otabek pulled away, frowning uncertainly. Yuri felt a moment of panic flash before him- what if this wasn't what he was expecting? No, his friends had told him so and he trusted them. Besides, why else would Otabek go anywhere near him if not to use his body? He looped an arm through Otabek's and together they stumbled up the stairs, full-on lightheaded by this point and struggling a bit. They tripped over two young men smoking what looked to be pot and a girl who was all but passed out on a friend, careening this way and that until they found a door. Otabek opened it to find that it was very much taken and Yuri had to avert his eyes from the scene before them.
'So sorry,' Otabek chuckled, shutting the door and dashing off down the corridor. The end room was refreshingly empty, and once inside the music was dimmed a lot and everything seemed calmer. Yuri felt like he could think more objectively, but this meant that he now also felt fear. They sat on the bed and resumed