Chapter Text
Naruto had been working late again. The dinner rush had been hell, the new chef was already getting on his nerves, and all he’d wanted was to come home, kick off his shoes, and maybe fall asleep next to Sasuke.
The lights were off when he walked in. That wasn’t unusual. Sasuke hated the overheads, always said they gave him headaches. But what was unusual was the smell.
It hit Naruto as soon as he stepped into the living room. Grease. Sugar. Artificial shit.
The kind of thick, cloying smell that only came from a binge.
His stomach dropped.
He flicked the light on.
Crumpled fast food wrappers covered the coffee table, the floor, and the kitchen counter. Bags from five different chains—Taco Bell, Wendy’s, McDonald’s, KFC, even fucking Krispy Kreme. Empty fry containers, burger wrappers torn open like someone had been ripping through them in a frenzy. Four pizza boxes on the floor. A gallon size container of ice cream on the counter.
Naruto barely registered his keys hitting the floor.
“No, no—fuck—” he whispered, already stepping over the mess, eyes scanning. “Sasuke?”
Nothing.
He checked the bathroom first. Empty.
He checked their bedroom. Empty.
“Shit,” Naruto muttered.
The other bathroom was empty too.
“Fuck,” Naruto said, louder now, pacing in a tight circle in the hallway.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Sasuke’s number. It rang once. Twice. Went to voicemail.
He called again. Straight to voicemail this time.
Another call. Voicemail.
He spat into his phone desperately.
“Fuck you, Sasuke. Fuck you. Baby—baby, come on, please pick up. Please. Fuck, are you okay? You need to pick up right now. I swear to God, I’m gonna lose my mind—call me back, just—call me, fuck—please.”
He hung up and immediately redialed. Nothing. His hands were shaking now. Not out of fear exactly—but the mix of fear and fury that came from knowing exactly what was happening and being powerless to stop it.
It wasn’t the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last.
He threw on his sneakers and grabbed his hoodie.
He knew Sasuke wouldn’t go far.
Whenever he decided not to purge in their bathroom, probably out of fear he’d clog the pipes again, he went outside. Always the same few spots. The dumpster behind the apartment. The wooded patch just past the parking lot. Or a gas station.
Naruto headed for the woods.
It took a few minutes of searching frantically before he spotted him, curled forward on his knees near a black garbage bag. His whole body was shaking. Naruto could hear the sick, wet sound of him gagging from yards away. Fingers jammed down his throat like he was trying to claw something out of himself.
Naruto didn’t think. He just moved.
“Sasuke!”
Sasuke flinched, but didn’t stop.
Naruto reached him in seconds, grabbing him by the shoulder and yanking him back. “Stop! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Sasuke choked, body convulsing. He started coughing violently, his hands scrambling to push Naruto off, but Naruto didn’t let go. He hit Sasuke’s back a few times—trying to help, trying to get the vomit out so he’d stop choking.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Naruto muttered, crouching next to him as Sasuke keeled over again, eyes watery and lips pale. Vomit dribbling down his chin.
Sasuke was still gasping when Naruto snapped, “How could you do this again?! I thought you were doing better—I thought you were fucking trying!”
Sasuke didn’t answer. He was still catching his breath, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He wouldn’t look at Naruto.
Naruto shoved the garbage bag away and stood up. His voice was rising. “Why the fuck do you do this to yourself?! Do you want to die?! Is that what you’re trying to do?! Because I swear to God, Sasuke, if that’s the case we can just kill ourselves together—”
“Shut up,” Sasuke croaked, eyes still glassy but sharp now, venomous. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“The fuck I don’t!” Naruto snapped. “You promised me. You promised—you said you were taking your meds, you said you weren’t purging anymore. You lied to me!”
Sasuke stood up unsteadily, using a tree for balance. “You think I want this? You think I do this for fun? Making yourself puke feels like shit you know.”
“I think you don’t care,” Naruto shot back. “I think every time I start to believe you’re okay—every time I actually think maybe we can have something again, you do this. You disappear and you lie to me and you almost die, and then you act like it’s my fault for being pissed!”
Sasuke’s voice cracked. “That’s because you just don’t understand! You don’t understand that I need this, you never have!”
“Then explain it!” Naruto shouted. “Just—explain it to me! Make me understand why you keep doing this to yourself! Because I’m trying, Sasuke! I’m fucking trying. But I’m losing it!”
Sasuke’s face twisted—rage, exhaustion, something darker beneath. He clenched his fists, his whole body shaking again.
“You just want to control me,” he spat. “You think I don’t see it? You want me to be better so you feel better. So you don’t have to deal with it. You want some version of me that doesn’t exist!”
Naruto flinched like he’d been hit.
“That’s not true,” he said, low. “I want you. I want you, Sasuke. But you’re fucking killing yourself, and I don’t know how to watch that anymore.”
Sasuke stared at him, lips parted, breath still ragged.
“Then don’t watch,” he mumbled, spitting into the dirt.
Neither of them said anything after that. The only sound was the quiet rustle of trees and the sick slosh of the vomit in the trash bag next to them.
Naruto looked at him for a long time.
Then he turned around.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Sasuke didn’t answer. But after a moment, he followed.