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Ze has a food thing. Regect doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t need to get it, he just needs to help Ze with it. Small problem though, there is a higher likelihood that Ze gives up all his guns and swears to a life of pacifism than admits to having a problem. Regect’s fine with that, because Ze doesn’t need to know that he’s helping.
It starts like this: humans need to eat. Regect doesn’t realise how much they need to at the start, until Moe comes along, and seems to gobble everything up.
“How much do you guys even need to eat?” Regect asks in bafflement, watching Moe chomp down an entire table of food, then start eating the table.
Moe gives a honk that Regect roughly translates to twelve times.
“Twelve fucking times! What the – wait, Ze doesn’t eat that much?”
Moe shrugs, gives another honk that loosely translates to, “Ze’s never eaten that much. I think that’s just him.”
A lot of things are ‘just Ze’. Lots of things that Regect doesn’t quite like but has learnt to accept, but this one, this one he can help with.
Ze seems to balk when Regect demands twelve meals together a day, and negotiates two instead. It seems low, but it’s better than nothing, so Regect agrees.
It’s hard work, at first. Ze barely eats anything, picks at his food with the cadence of a dying man, seems to consume much less than he did before, but it gets better. Regect’s learnt the trick with it is not mentioning it, it starts to get bad when he mentions it.
(“Hey, you haven’t eaten that much today. I’ve made you a ten course meal so you can get all the co-lar-ies you need.”
He, well, Regect had expected happiness or that weird kind of joy Ze gets whenever something important about him is remembered, but instead he just froze, staring at the table with something like horror. “You... You’ve been tracking how much I’m eating?”
Regect had blinked, smiled, “Yeah,” he said, “To make sure you’re eating enough.”
Ze hadn’t touched any of the food. He hadn’t responded for a long while. It took about an hour of cajoling until his blinks looked responsive. Regect had never mentioned it again, had never wanted to cause that state of nothingness again.)
Regect doesn’t mention it, but he does things in different ways. Small ways that Moe says is conditioning but Regect just thinks are smart.
Every time Ze finishes eating, Regect gives him a little peck. He doesn’t know if it’s working, but it’s fun to do, at least, and it’s all he can do, really. Ze hasn’t caught on yet, but maybe that’s because Regect takes a lot of excuses to kiss him. He can’t really say.
He doesn’t know if it works, but he does know Ze starts eating more. Plates become emptier, almost licked clean. Ze’s eating, and Regect’s plans have worked.
At night, he slips in behind Ze (quiet as a mouse, not wanting to wake the other man up) and wraps an arm around him. Feels happier in the knowledge that Ze’s safe with him, wrapped up tight, encircled in Regect, encased in love. It’s better. Ze’s better.
Ze shifts as he gets in one night, “Regect?” He sleepily mumbles.
“Here! Here – just me.”
“You’re always fucking late to bed.”
Regect just strokes a hand down Ze’s head. Maybe it’s weird that he likes the insults, but, well, he’s an entity, so what can he do?
“Sorry, I’ll be on time next time, hmm?”
“Sure. Liar.”
“You’re the fucking liar. Hey,” he says, then hopes the best he can, “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”
He expects the worst, is already running through everything he knows on how to get Ze out of that bad place he goes to sometimes, but Ze just yawns.
“Uh... I don’t know, an omelette? Moe likes those, right?”
And Regect – Regect beams, burrows in close and presses a kiss to Ze’s temple, “Yeah, yeah, sure, I can make that. No shells this time, promise!”
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Ze murmurs.
It’s usually enough to start a (playful) argument, but Regect’s too fucking happy right now. It worked! Ze was hurting and Regect made it better! He made it better!
(The flesh is still worn under his hand. He can still feel the ribs protruding outwards. The food disappears but Ze doesn’t seem to be getting better, seems to droop and rot instead. This doesn’t feel like getting better. Why can’t Regect make people better?)