Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Food was always something that this odd little friend group never ran out of.

From boxed lunches from parents, to those small bags of chips that they would always get at the vending machines, and to the small pieces of candy that Ozo seemed to always carry around in his pocket; It was just something that they always never had to worry about.

Hence, it was why Sparten was pissed that Ozo was asking for a bite from his lunchbox.

“C'mon man! Just a small bite!” Ozo's grubby little hands started to reach into his lunchbox. Sparten had to slap it away.

“You literally have your own lunch right there!” Sparten pointed out, looking at the neglected lunchbox that was right next to Ozo.

“Well— Yeah, but—” Ozo grumbled, “I don't like my lunch.”

“You should just learn to pack your own lunch instead of relying on your mom all the time.” Sparten teased.

“Shut up.” Ozo pouted.

“I can eat it.” Brandon suddenly spoke up. It was a voice that the two boys hadn't heard in a while despite the fact the three of them had agreed to eat together. Sparten honestly forgot that Brandon was also there, the boy was so quiet most of the time.

“Yeah, just take it.” Ozo gave his lunchbox over to Brandon, to which the latter happily accepted.

It wasn't an unusual sight seeing Ozo give his unwanted lunch to Brandon. In fact, it was kind of the norm to give any leftover food to Brandon. Something about it rubbed Sparten the wrong way; No offense to Brandon, but it honestly made him feel like he was the friend group’s… personal trash can. It wasn't his fault though, of course. It was everyone else’s fault for being so picky!

He scoffed thinking about it. “You have to stop being so picky.”

“What are you, my mom?” Ozo replied back.

Sparten smirked, “You wanted my food, right?” He stabbed one of his dumplings with his fork and brought it up to Ozo's face, “Here comes the airplane~! Say aah!”

“Shut up! I don't even want it anymore!” Ozo yelled, an embarrassed flush now covering his cheeks. Sparten laughed, and he swore that he could also hear Brandon's quiet giggles too.

That conversation fizzled out soon after, now replaced by Ozo's ramblings about the intricacies of ‘Heli-wars’. Sparten didn't pay much mind to it, he preferred other games that involved more sword-fighting.

As he tuned him out, he ended up staring at Brandon. He was… an interesting guy. Sparten was nowhere close to him as Ozo was, but he was still considered a friend.

He was nice. Too nice. Like unusually freakishly nice. Well, at least whenever they hung out in real life he was. Roblox was a whole different story.

Brandon listened to Ozo's ramblings, nodding along and agreeing with whatever he's saying. At the same time, however, he was hungrily feasting on Ozo's lunch.

Now that Sparten was thinking about it… when did Brandon ever bring his own snacks? Usually the friend group would have their own pocket money to use at nearby vending machines, but he had never seen Brandon actively looking at any of those machines. He always stayed behind, awkwardly.

Actually, there were a lot of odd things about Brandon. Of course, Sparten would never say it out loud, but there was always something strange about that guy. It kind of unnerved him a bit.

Like… how last week after Sony had begged him to help him out with a test so he didn't get grounded.

“It's not my fault that they started putting letters in math, I can't even do long division properly! I won't even need to use that when I'm older…” Sony whined.

“It's not even that difficult, stop complaining.” Sparten sighed.

“That sounds really hard…” Brandon patted Sony's back, “I'm glad I don't have to do that kind of math anymore.”

“Hm? What do you mean? I thought you were homeschooled.” Sony said.

“I am, but since my mom isn't around, I don't need to do any schoolwork!” Brandon smiled, “I do kind of miss it though.” His smile now turned a bit more sad, as if he was reminiscing a nostalgic memory.

Sparten's attention peaked at this. While he wasn't well-versed in how homeschooling works… he's sure that isn't allowed. Or legal. “What about your dad? Shouldn't he be teaching you also?” Sparten said.

“He does! He teaches me about God.” Brandon answered.

“... And?”

“Um..” Brandon paused, now a bit muddled, “And… how to be good at—”

“Uugh, you are so lucky, Brandon!” Sony jumped in, “I wish I was homeschooled too! Then I would never have to work again.”

Sparten frowned. “That's not how that works, Sony.”

Brandon let out a forced laugh, “Hah..! I— I guess I am pretty lucky.”

He remembers those times very clearly. He knows a lot of stuff about his friends, actually. Maybe a bit too much, considering the fact it’s gotten to the point where he packs certain things in his bag just for his friends… But, it's just common sense to pack bandages when your friends are going to a skate-park and your friends are Ozo and Sony.

“Here you go!” Brandon’s voice brought Sparten back from reality. Brandon was giving Ozo’s lunchbox back to him. Sparten also noticed that the boy had completely cleaned out the lunchbox despite what felt like only a few minutes passing. Realizing that Sparten had barely contributed to the conversation, he took this opportunity to say something.

“Wow, you must’ve been really hungry.” Sparten pointed out, “Did you skip breakfast again?” He said jokingly. The friend group were no strangers to lighthearted teasing.

Strangely, enough… Brandon didn’t respond right away. In fact, he stood still for a moment as if he had to process what he just heard.

Suddenly, it was like a lightswitch had just turned on.

Brandon gasped. Loudly. A hand was slapped over his mouth as his eyes widened in… panic? Fear?

Ozo immediately furrowed his brows in concern, “Brandon? You okay?” He tried reaching his hand out to comfort his friend, but Brandon quickly stood up, leaving Ozo to retract his hand back.

“I…” Brandon brought his hand down to the cross necklace he always wore, “I forgot— I forgot that I…” The hand clasped around the small, golden cross.

“I’m sorry. Please excuse me—” Brandon rushed out of the room, both Ozo and Sparten watched as he left without any explanation.

Ozo looked a bit distraught over the sudden change in mood. Sparten’s face softened.

“Uh… Ozo?” Sparten called out, “Do you know what just happened?”

The boy frowned, “No. I just… I thought— I thought that things were going fine.” His shoulders slumped, “Why would he just leave like that?”

Sparten sighed, “I don’t know.”

There was a moment of silence as Sparten's words sank in. Ozo's expression darkened, visibly upset. He wouldn't admit it, but he often wore his heart on his sleeve.

Sparten knew he had to do something. He worried too much about the guy to let him worry like this.

“Look, if you’re that worried about it… I could go talk to him later. I was planning on staying a bit late here anyway.” He suggested. It was technically the truth, since he knew he was going to be picked up later than usual. It was also the time where he knew for sure that he could catch Brandon, since he’s known for always staying after-hours to volunteer.

“Really?” Ozo’s eyes brighten up, “You would do that?”

“Yeah—”

“Oh my gosh… Thank you— really.” Ozo felt himself smile again, now more hopeful than before.

Sparten didn’t really get the whole deal. He even felt as if Ozo was being a bit overdramatic about this whole situation, but it was better to deal with this now then having to listen to Ozo nervously ramble about every single thing that Brandon did later.

Whatever.

He would figure this out, regardless of what Brandon’s deal is.

Chapter Text

At the church they all attended, there were opportunities where you could stay after the usual time to help clean, organize, or whatever the youth pastor wanted you to do at that time.

The job was simple enough, all he had to do was sweep floors and stack chairs in the main room. It was a job just one person could do, yet he had another partner with him. “It’s good to do all you can when you’re at the Lord’s place.” Brandon smiled while sweeping the floors with a broom. He looked normal enough, even though just an hour before he looked like he was about to have some kind of panic attack.

“Sure, I guess.” Sparten simply nodded along while picking up a chair. He didn’t really care all too much, nor was he super religious, but it was an excuse to talk with Brandon. He knew that this was really the only time he could catch up with Brandon, since his dad apparently always picks him up way later than usual. One time, it took almost three hours before Brandon got home; the service leaders almost had to just call his father to come get him.

Despite his plan to ask Brandon what was up, he felt distracted. Mostly distracted by his own stomach. He had ended up giving up some food to Ozo, since he took pity on Ozo after his friend’s sudden disappearance. At this point, he may as well pack extra lunches for him if he keeps on doing this! He wouldn’t feel as hungry if that were the case.

“I’m a bit hungry, so I might just go to the vending machines near the front doors.” Sparten mentioned. He placed down the chair he was holding on top of an arranged stack.

“You’re… going to leave?” Brandon tilted his head in confusion, “But we’re not done yet…”

“I mean— I’ll be back..?” Sparten shrugged, “It won’t take long at all, you can come too if you want.”

“Oh! Well, I guess I could come along for just a bit…” Brandon said, though with a bit more hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.” Sparten dropped his belongings, save for the cash, and started walking out. Brandon followed quickly after.

After traversing a hallway that felt longer than normal, they finally reached the vending machines. There was a brief moment of silence between the two of them.

Sparten felt a bit awkward just… staring at the glass. It’s not like Brandon was making any conversation. So, he picked his go-to snack, barbecue chips. The both of them watched as the chips were dispensed, and Sparten reached down to grab them. He didn’t waste any time opening the bag, immediately feasting upon the tiny bag as if it was his last meal.

Brandon’s eyes looked at the bag in hand. Sparten noticed.

“Do you want some?” Sparten extends his hand, bag in hand.

Brandon widened his eyes, shaking his head. “N-No, I’m okay.”

Sparten raised his eyebrow, “You sure?” It was unlike Brandon to decline an offer like this.

“Yep!” He responded a bit too quickly. While Brandon was smiling, Sparten could clearly tell that he was restraining himself. His tone was… off. His suspicions would turn out correct as seconds later he could hear a low growling sound.

“Dude. You’re clearly hungry, just take some.” Sparten sighed, “I’m already used to Ozo and Sony sneaking food off of me.”

Brandon looked away as his expression soured. Strangely enough, he looked rather guilty. “It’s not like that…”

Maybe Brandon isn’t used to sharing food with Sparten?

In all fairness, he's only ever seen him sharing food with specifically Ozo— but, even still, Brandon doesn't usually refuse any sort of leftovers he's been given. This was very different from when earlier Brandon had practically wolfed down Ozo’s entire lunch, no questions asked.

"What makes it so different? Do you just.. not feel like eating right now?"

Brandon pauses for a moment, swallowing thickly. He looks around before looking back at Sparten, "Y-Yeah, I'm not very hungry.. right now."

Before Sparten could say anything, he could hear that low growling again. Brandon’s face flushed with embarrassment as he pressed his arms against his stomach, trying to muffle any more unwanted noises. He gave a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Brandon... I don't believe you. Look, If you don't wanna eat after me that's fine. I'll just get you something else." Sparten said.

Brandon opens his mouth to speak, but his stomach speaks for him— his hunger becoming more apparent by the second as that growling gets louder.

There's a moment of silence between the two of them before Sparten rolls his eyes, fishing for the money in his pocket. Upon finding it, he slots it into the machine, selecting a simple bag of plain flavored chips. He wasn't very familiar with Brandon's preferences, but he figured this would be better than nothing.

Brandon simply watched with an unreadable expression. His frown was clearly etched onto his face, yet, Sparten couldn't figure out why. Not like it was his problem, he figured.

He leaned down to open the small flap in the machine. Sparten pulls out the yellow bag of chips out from the compartment. “Take it.” He said, very directly, holding it out to Brandon.

The boy in front only looked more uncomfortable. He seems to want to say something, hesitating for a moment. A hand reaches for the cross necklace he always wears. Brandon sighs, “Thank you, really… but I’m not allowed to eat.”

“You’re not allowed?” Sparten repeats, a bit confused. “Are you like… fasting, or something?” He asks, being genuinely curious. He doesn’t practice it in his household, but he knows it’s a thing that a bunch of religions do. Knowing Brandon, the hyper-religious one, he probably does things like that. It might even explain his behavior from earlier.

“What’s fasting?”

Okay. Wow. Nevermind.

“Like, when you don’t eat anything for a certain amount of time?”

“Hm.” Brandon hums in content, “Well, then I guess I do a lot of fasting then. Dad makes sure that I’m not allowed to eat anything if I do something bad.”

Well, that sounds more like abuse, but Sparten keeps that thought in his head. God, he feels even more awkward now.

Unfortunately for Sparten, Brandon keeps talking. “There was this one time I tried to sneak some food at night, but Dad caught me.” His hands start reaching towards his cross necklace. “I don’t want that to happen again, so I just have to remember that this is what’s best for me.”

“I… don't,” Sparten shifts into a more tense posture. He wants to say a lot of things, but all of them sound horrible. Why isn't Ozo here to deal with this kind of thing?

He eventually sighs, extending the bag of chips again. “Just take it.”

“... Sparten, I told you already, I'm not allowed to eat anything.” Brandon averts his eyes as he tries to push the bag away.

“When was the last time you ate something?” Sparten said, his tone far more demanding than he meant it to be. “Before today, I mean.”

Brandon keeps fidgeting with his necklace, he keeps his eyes away from the boy in front of him. “I— I don't.. know. M-Maybe since two days ago..?”

“Oh my god.” Sparten mutters under his breath, “Brandon, you need to eat something.”

“I-I can't, I'm not al-allowed too—” Brandon hunches up his shoulders, it looked like he wanted to flee. “I can’t break the rules again. I made sure to make it up.”

For a moment, Sparten backed off. The last thing he wanted was for Brandon to freak out and run away again, so he thought to himself. Maybe it'd be best to try and.. convince him? Brandon wasn't one to argue; Sparten figured it'd be better than saying nothing.

“How would he know?” Sparten tried to reason, “You don't have to tell your dad anything.” He hated how he had to convince this boy to eat something.

“You won't..” Brandon looks up at Sparten, “You won't tell my dad?” He said with a shaky voice.

“No, ‘Course not.”

Brandon hesitates. He even looks around the room as he considers the offer.

After a while, he turns back to Sparten. He stares at the bag before quickly snatching it away, which shocks Sparten a little bit. Brandon quickly turns around, and the sounds of a bag opening is followed shortly with noises of crunching.

Sparten just kinda stares at Brandon's back as he listens to the hurried snacking. He doesn't even know why Brandon turned away. Should he leave? Should he say something?

He decides to go with the latter, “Do you want more?”

Brandon stops for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights. A moment of silence passed before he could finally respond back.

“Yes. Please.”