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Sycamore’s Christmas binge began to catch up on him. The fun, the parties, the events that Lysandre took him too, and made sure he had a full plate and a glass of wine almost always filled… everything began to be too much. He didn’t even really care, it was fun, and he was with people he cared about.

 But Christmas Eve came, and on that day, the month of binging began to get to be too much. Today, he was starting to get dressed in a sleepy haze, with a bit of booze left in his system. Yawning and stretching, he started to pull down his shirt, and pull up his pants. But when he got to buttoning it up, there was a problem. Yes, things had gotten tight, but he hadn’t really paid it much mind.

 Today, things wouldn’t go on at all. The buttons and belt refused to properly attach. He struggled and tried over and over again. Holding in his breath, he even looked down, claiming it wasn’t that big, and he just needed to suck in his newly found gut. It was a struggle, but eventually, he was able to suck it all in and button everything up.

 It was a bit touch and go. His belly pressed hard against his shirt and pants, threatening to get rid of the whole thing. But he was meeting Lysandre for breakfast, and he couldn’t wait much longer for that! He quickly moved to exit his apartment, pushing through the door and heading down to the nearest café with a groan and a grumble in his stomach.

 Lysandre was waiting at the outside table, sipping on a cup of coffee, when he noticed the familiar man walking up. “Ah, you’ve arrived.” The cup of coffee on the other side was thankfully still warm. “I hope it wasn’t too hard for you.”

 “N… no no, my dear.” Sycamore laughed, trying to breath. “I promise you, it was nothing at all.” Even still, things were very tediously staying on. Laughing, he moved to take the cup of coffee. But bending even a little bit was the breaking point of the entire thing.

 There was a snap as the belt just broke right then and there, and the snapping of not one, not two, but three buttons as they hit the ground and clattered. The sound had everyone looking in their direction as Sycamore’s gut began to hang out. It wasn’t massive, but it was certainly noticeable. A gut was the only word that could describe it.

 “A… ah!” Sycamore gasped, standing back up and trying to cover it up. He didn’t wear his lab coat today, so he had nothing to hide the gut that was poking out. It was a struggle to block people from looking at it, and his entire face began to get very red. “I… I’m sorry, my friend!” He cried out, “I… I must return to my place at once!” And trying to hold up his pants and close his shirt, he quickly turned to run away.

 Lysandre just looked and hummed. And began to write down; ‘Bigger clothes. Much bigger.’

Lysandre paused when he entered the laboratory today. And just took a moment to look at the disaster that had unfolded in front of him. There were empty boxes of cookies, cupcakes, and doughnuts just laying around the entire room. As well as a few bottles of wine. Christmas had clearly gotten to the professor, and he could be ashamed of what had occurred.

 Could be.

 There he was. On the couch in the lab with a red face, a bottle of wine in his hand and a belly that just couldn’t fit in his shirt anymore. Was he asleep? His belly was moving up and down as if a ball was starting to inflate up and down. He let out a groan and a hiccup, scratching his belly on the side.

 “B… Bonjour!” He laughed, struggling to stand up. His belly, round and holding up the sides of his shirt. “Lysandre! I…” The hiccups began. His belly starting to shake and jiggle with everyone. “I didn’t know i… if you would come!” Laughing loudly and moving to lean onto Lysandre. “W… welcome… we… welcome…!” Another hiccup, followed by a loud burp. “I… I didn’t save you any treats… but they were sooooo good…” Laughing and leaning on him.

 Lysandre just sighed, “…Thank you for inviting me.” And indeed he was thankful. Because he understood his feelings towards this sort of thing. And with one hand resting on Sycamore’s stuffed gut, giving it a rub.

Shinjiro didn’t know how badly the holiday season would mess him up. But here he was, in the kitchen, making so many different kinds of cookies for the dorm. Grumbling as he had spent the months testing out recipes. And because he didn’t really want anyone else to know he was cooking, he only had one person who could taste.

 And that went sideways.

 Today, he was trying to make a good chocolate chip and sugar cookie recipe. His belly stretching out, and his coat tight against it. He was fairly certain that any day, he would no longer be able to button it up. Eating a cookie from each pile was bad enough, but he had about twenty different recipes, and each one had variations.