#cher fics

it was on seungkwan’s fifth lap that he sighed, resolute, realizing he’d have to bring his fiancé back to reality.

“babe, aren’t you feeling dizzy?” hansol clasped his hands to get rid of remaining crumbs. he folded the empty packet and put it next to the long forgotten can.

“no,” seungkwan replied, stopping in the middle of the living room to stare at hansol. “i’m thinking”

the latter pretended to consider the argument, then contested it:

“and can’t you do it sitting still?”

seungkwan shrugged, shifting his body’s weight from one leg to another like a restless kid.

“i can, but… ideas circulate better inside my brain this way.”

“i’m pretty sure that’s not true, seungkwanie,” argued hansol. he got up from the sofa to wrap his arms around seungkwan’s neck, the height difference between them allowing seungkwan to be fully embraced, enveloped in a comforting warmth.

“hansollie,” he tried to protest, although his legs didn’t even hesitate to follow hansol back to the couch.

“have you eaten today, at least? i didn’t see you stop for a single moment since i woke up.”

“ate more than i should, honestly,” seungkwan complained with a grunt, hansol’s hand at his lower back to pull him into his lap. “seems like i can’t control my appetite these days.” he’d complement that this had a big influence from the stupid amount of goodies hansol filled their pantry with, but preferred to stop there. it was not like hansol was forcing him to eat any of those, right?

“no such thing as ‘eating more than you should’.” he caressed seungkwan’s left hip, finally getting him exactly where he wanted, settled on top of his thighs. seungkwan tried not to pay too much attention to the disparity between the two, his muscle much thinner compared to his fiancé’s. “you need energy to manage all this stuff.”

“how can you be so relaxed?” seungkwan whined, both from the frustration of having such a laid-back partner and from the smooches he was currently receiving on his neck. hansol’s lips felt raspy due to the chip’s crumbs, a sensation that was not unfamiliar when they started to make out without previous warning. “we’re getting married, hansol!” seungkwan exclaimed, placing his hands on the chest in front of him to maintain an almost threatening eye contact.

hansol didn’t seem too fazed.

“i trust you,” he said, a small and enamoured smile adorning his mouth. seungkwan was divided between the will to scream and the will to punch that pretty face. “also, shouldn’t you trust the people in charge of all these things?” hansol lifted a questioning eyebrow.

seungkwan crossed his arms, shifting on his lap.

“i don’t trust anyone.” he looked away, engulfing himself into a self-hug. “i don’t want things to go wrong…” he tried to explain better, resting his forehead on hansol’s shoulder as he mumbled against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. it smelled of tenderness. “and also, you didn’t seem bothered when the mission was testing out sweets, hm?”

“it’s because i wasn’t bothered. not at all,” hansol agreed, a wide grin taking place when he felt seungkwan’s touch at his waist, going next to grab the proper softness of his tummy. he sure had entered marriage statistics a bit early, the 20lbs he packed on since he and seungkwan got serious a noticeable indicator.

“did you eat properly today, chwe hansol?” the question came under an obvious mock tone, although its addition revealed a share of preoccupation, “or did you spend the day filling yourself with snacks as if it was a reasonable meal?”

“boo…” hansol used the surname like a weapon, its similarity to the english pet name an usual attempt to trick seungkwan. “i had breakfast, at least… ate the pancakes you left for me,” he informed, trying to get his lips back on the mole-painted skin.

seungkwan, however, wasn’t willing to fall for it this time.

“pancakes are not a meal!” hansol hissed when the pressure of a nip attacked a roll on his abdomen. seungkwan didn’t hesitate to command, “open your phone, you’re gonna have a proper lunch.”

“it’s three in the afternoon, seungkwan,” hansol responded, even though he was, at the very moment, squirming in his seat to fish the device out of his pocket.

“so?” seungkwan dismissed the complaint, leaning forward to take a peak at the cellphone’s screen.

hansol was sharp to shoot, “so i’ll only order it if you join me.”

“but i’ve already–”

“don’t lie to me, i didn’t see you at the table at any moment, much less going out at lunchtime,” hansol pointed out, his eyes squinted and accusing.

seungkwan, in all his mature adult glory, whimpered.

“but i’ve been eating all day!” he tried to escape from his fiancé’s lap, without success.

hansol squeezed his waist. “what have you been eating, exactly? the snacks you’ve been stealing from me?”

if seungkwan had a hole to stick his face into right now, he would do it. a hot wave of shame spread through his body, the feeling of being (correctly) denounced like that making him cringe.

“hansollie,” was the only thing he managed to verbalize, a pout curled up on his lips meanwhile hansol appeared to be too busy with the delivery app.

“you prefer sweet or bittersweet dressing to your jjajangmyeon, mr. hypocrite?”

seungkwan cried out more incomprehensible words, face buried in the crook of hansol’s neck.

“bittersweet.” his mumbling vibrated against hansol’s skin, earning a swift giggle as it tickled.

“o.k., done.”

seungkwan withdrew from his temporary hiding place to evaluate the total order, frowning when he noticed its last detail.

“why’d you order for three?”

“it’s for you, me and the baby.”

“what baby, hansol?” seungkwan grimaced in confusion.

“me.”

he couldn't stop the laugh that expanded into the room as hansol claimed that with the straightest of faces. hansol himself, on the other hand, considered the reaction a full-on victory, since for a few moments seungkwan wasn't and wouldn't be stressing about the countless preparations.

an hour later, seungkwan found himself laid back on a chair, the empty takeout bags scattered on the table between him and hansol, who finished his last serve of tempered noodles.

how did his lover managed to put that much food inside, seungkwan didn’t know, yet now had an idea of the coma state in which hansollie got into sometimes, seungkwan’s own stomach so full he didn’t dare to move.

“i don’t know if i can get up,” he confessed, voice dragging out after a deep exhale. one hand snaked down to his abdomen, at that point turned round and hard.

hansol smiled after swallowing one of the many absurd bites he’d managed to fit into his mouth during that late lunch.

“awesome. means you ate well.”

seungkwan huffed, irritated.

“it means i ate like a pig, that’s what it means.”

“now let’s not exaggerate.” hansol rolled his eyes, taking the moment to sip on his (now pleasantly fresh) coke. he suppressed a hiccup before adding, “your table manners are impeccable.”

“don’t know if i can say the same about yours,” seungkwan teased, trying to hold back a giggle.

hansol raised one of his thick eyebrows.

“oh, we’re being mean now? don’t expect me to carry you to bed, then.”

“noo, that’s not what i meant…” seungkwan jutted his lower lip, his foot searching for hansol’s shin under the table in order to give it a light kick.

“relax, i wouldn’t do that to you.” hansol trapped seungkwan’s foot between his feet, looking at him with sincerity. “wait like, twenty minutes and i’ll carry you bridal style into the room. then you can have the best nap of your life.”

seungkwan rubbed his sole against hansol’s heel, trying to initiate an act that commonly preceded much less innocent actions. in the reason of his stuffed state, however, he was unable to climb beyond his calf.

seungkwan sighed, sliding down on the chair while still rubbing circles on his belly. “so that’s married life, huh?”

hansol smirked.

“well, if you give me a few extra minutes, i can try something that you’ll wake you up…”

seungkwan scowled.

“sorry, i’ll pass. really want my nap.”

they both cackled, full of both food and love.

***

apparently, to stuff yourself silly with company was way less humiliating than doing it on your own, seungkwan soon found out. maybe because your shame couldn’t be shared, so your only option was to wallow on it until you passed out due to the fullness.

his worries about the ceremony unfortunately went on, hansol’s distractions only working to a certain extent. alongside this, continued the habit of snacking every time the slightest inconvenience got in the way, which led to frequent episodes of exaggeration, or even to the mortifying certainty that, between each and every main meal, a smaller one would be present.

of course the consequences began to show up, to seungkwan’s disgust: he now needed to bounce a few hops to get into his pants in the morning, his shirts started to strain due to his tummy pushing out the fabric, plus said shirt’s sleeves were pretty tight around his plushy arms. even his nipples took a toll, looking swollen all the time.

it was gradual, each passing day bringing a different change and provoking a new spiral of panic every time seungkwan noticed each respective transformation. he martirized himself, repeating inside his head “control yourself, for fucks sake”, although little did he do to actually regulate his eating patterns.

in fact, “control” became a harder verb to act upon after he leaned into the tendency of always having a bite at hand, the strategy of buying extra goodies his solution to avoid getting caught. he could understand why his fiancé got addicted to those prepackaged foods; they were the closest he had from a sigh of relief during these stressful days.

it was like he’d got lost in a maze, built up by his own lack of self-limits and from which he didn’t really bother getting out.

“seungkwaaaanie!” hansol’s voice echoed from the entrance, making seungkwan jump in his place on the floor. around him, wrappers surrounded his notebook where the reception’s layout was sketched, the countless groups’ dispositions the reason he had guiltily chewed each candy now settled to soften his stomach even more.

in a desperate fuss, he picked out the wraps and buried them deep inside his pockets in the hope of hiding them before hansol could reach the living room.

it worked, but seungkwan still received a suspicious stare as he tried to appear natural with the notebook on his lap.

“what are you doing?” hansol inquired, curious as always.

“trying not cause a war or the minimal taste of discomfort between our guests,” seungkwan informed, forcing a sarcastic smile.

“ah, i see. why don’t you just randomize it instead? it’d be fun to see some fighting, don’t you think?” hansol played along with the irony, a plastic bag dangling from his right hand.

seungkwan pointed at it. “what’s that?”

hansol’s expression lit up. “oh, i almost forgot! i brought dinner.” oh, no. “there’s like kimbap for a whole week inside here, bibimbap with your favorites and a surprise dessert to make it complete,” he proudly listed, making seungkwan experience the banal reaction of his mouth watering and the somber wish to drop dead right now, both hitting him in a manner that made his stomach twist. hansol asked, “is that alright to you?”

“great”, seungkwan thought, an honest but defeated grin on his face as he verbally responded, “it’s more than alright, baby, thank you.”

great.

***

it was the day of the last suit fitting, exactly one month before the official ceremony.

seungkwan had stupidly forgotten about that. that there was a suit reserved for his wedding, that it had been selected to be a perfect fit, that now a disaster was approaching, scary and unstoppable.

a few minutes passed with the following scene: seungkwan staring at the clothes, the clothes not-staring-back at seungkwan from where they hang inside the dressing room. he knew what was destined for him once he undressed himself, so he was somehow trying to postpone it at all costs.

maybe having breakfast was a bad idea.

“hey, is everything ok in there?” hansol sounded from the outside, his voice muffled from the wooden door.

“hm, yeah,” seungkwan tried to modulate his tone into normality as he hurriedly dressed up, the tightness of his vests a foreseen sensation. “i just need one more minute…”

the pants weren’t even the worst part, because seungkwan gave up as soon as they didn’t go up past his thighs. the suit was the piece unsettling him the most, as it was not even possible to close up more than one single button (and poorly). it looked like it’d pop with the most suave of movements, meanwhile the tux itself fitted oddly around his arms and shoulders.

before he could rationalize the situation any better, seungkwan felt the humidity of two tear streaks running down his face, one on each side.

“no, no…” he muttered, spinning around himself as if that would fix whatever wrong prevented him from adequating inside that piece. as if it were a matter of pulling a loose thread or adjusting a flap.

“seungkwanie,” hansol spoke up again, lower than before. he seemed to know seungkwan had lied and that no, things were not ok. “can you open the door, please?”

if seungkwan was a little bit stronger, a bit more capable of freaking out on his own without fearing a complete breakdown, he’d have gulped down his sobs and came up with a plausible excuse. he’d have lied to hansol, moved on and focused on making a plan to lose all that weight in 30 days. there’d sure be an youtube channel to help him with that.

as his vulnerability got to the point of overflowing, however, he knew he wasn’t strong enough for any of those actions.

slowly, he unlocked the door with the fear of suddenly finding someone other than hansol outside. as he peaked his head out, though, there was no one beside his fiancé’s worried eyes.

“seungkwanie,” hansol called, alarmed. he moved closer to the opening, and seungkwan saw how handsome he looked in the black suit they had chosen together, a plastic flower in its left pocket just to compose the preview of the fitting. “what happened, my love? why are you crying?”

seungkwan bit his lower lip, the delicate manner through which hansol communicated his preoccupation making him want to cry even more.

babbling, stumbling on his words, he said, “i… i… it’s doesn’t… it doesn’t fit anymore, hansollie.”

a few instants were needed for hansol to understand. when he did, his mouth opened in a small, soundless “o”.

“ah…” he vocalized without breaking eye contact. seungkwan was beginning to panic. “can you… can you let me in?”

seungkwan didn’t answer. instead, he pulled the man inside the room with little courtesy, wrinkling the fabric of his shirt in the process.

with his back against the door, seungkwan turned the key to lock it again, breathing uneasily while hansol took his time examining him. the damage caused by his lack of self-control was more than evident in his stomach, jutting far beyond the hem of his pants and preventing the buttons on his suit from closing without looking forced and drawing attention to the area.

“kwan-ah,” hansol exhaled, his pupils wide due to the sight in front of him.

seungkwan couldn’t stand the visual connection. “i know. i look ridiculous.”

“you’re so fucking hot.”

“yeah and… what?” he screeched, face finally up to meet hansol’s gaze. his heart started racing with the hungry expression he met. “are you insane?”

“the pants didn’t fit, did they?” questioned hansol, noticing seungkwan was wearing a tight, tight pair of jeans that hugged his legs like a second skin.

“hm, no, i didn’t wanna risk ripping them and… hansol, what are you doi–”

what hansol was doing, precisely: placing one thigh between seungkwan’s legs while his hands entered the suit, raising the white shirt and feeling seungkwan’s warm skin. he squeezed the softness that now spilled from the sides.

“hansollie,” seungkwan gasped when he experimented the pressure of hansol’s thick thigh on his groin, his face on fire as he had his chest grabbed by hansol’s shameless fingers. gosh, he really felt like he had real tits at that moment.

“if this tux isn’t fitting, we’ll find a new one,” hansol said, pressing his body against seungkwan’s. it was impossible not to notice his clothed belly being crushed against seungkwan’s exposed one, a view that only gave more perspective on the gain. “one that makes you comfortable and that allows you to eat as much as you want without worrying, you understand?”

“b-but,” seungkwan stuttered, exasperated. “i d-don’t need to eat more, i’ve already gained enough weight to not fit in my damn suit, hansol!”

hansol rolled his eyes, annoyed.

“the clothes are the one that should fit you, not the contrary,” he pointed out, face serious. “you've been taking care of everything down to every last detail, seungkwan, you literally do not rest for a single minute if i don’t keep an eye on you. having to worry about losing weight, too? oh, no, not on my watch. i’m not gonna let you get sick!”

“but…”

an index finger touched seungkwan’s lips, while his waist was held tenderly.

“shh, no buts. let’s take these off and i’ll ask for a bigger size, alright?”

seungkwan reluctantly nodded.

“i’ve probably overgrown more than one size up already…”

“and that’s far from being a problem.” hansol planted a kiss on his nose. the grip on his waist was lowered to seungkwan’s hips, more specifically to the extra skin that spilled from the sides. “you’re so soft…” hansol commented, entranced by the new additions on his lover’s body.

“oh my god, you don’t even try to hide how much you’re into this. was this your plan all along, to fatten me up so i could catch up with you?”

“of course not!” hansol exclaimed, offended. “i like you in any shape or form, seungkwan,” he said like he was stating the obvious. the sky is blue, hansol loves seungkwan. obviousnesses. “although i have to admit that it’s pretty tempting to want to see your ass growing bigger…”

seungkwan squawked when a firm grip pressed one of his buttocks.

“pervert!” he slapped hansol’s arm. “you’re a pervert, that’s what you are! now get off me and go get me a proper suit, please.”

after some resistance, hansol obeyed, amused by seungkwan’s rush to compose himself. he didn’t miss the chance to tease, “so bossy… it’s like you weren’t even crying two minutes ago.”

seungkwan pulled him by the collar of his shirt to whisper in his ear, “you better take care of this hard dick of yours before you go walking around the store, you hear me?” and with that, he kicked hansol out of the dressing room. no further ceremony.

having a chubby boyfriend wasn’t on any of seokmin’s particular list of wants when he pictured a partner by his side. don’t get this wrong, though, since he actually never thought about any specific figure, much less a specific person before he met soonyoung. the adjective in question, however, is having a bigger impact than he’s ever dreamed on his relationship—in a good, crazy-driving-way, of course, with a focus on the big aspects of the whole scenario.

soonyoung has only gained more weight since the night he realised his pants were giving up on his stupid ass, seokmin has only used more and more of his dick these days as he couldn’t seem to stop getting enough of a well filled-out soonyoung.

(it’s like he was trying to knock the poor boy up, seriously. it didn’t help that one time soonyoung mentioned this and seokmin went completely nuts, having too much material on his hands with soonyoung’s round belly...)

so, having a chubby s/o wasn’t on his list of requirements, but now he thinks he wouldn’t have any other way. specially as he got to witness every little change on his boyfriend’s body, that now took much more space everywhere, the fluffiness impossible to hide.

the thighs, for fuck’s sake… seokmin thinks he could die crushed by them.

that morning, an image that became periodic in that apartment caught his eyes when he was about to enter their shared bathroom. soonyoung is planted on the scale, brows furrowed as he tried to find a way to check which numbers were on the screen—he could no longer suck his gut out of his vision, apparently.

ignoring the twitch of his cock in favour of being annoying, seokmin walks silently and puts half of his foot in the space between soonyoung’s feet, pressing it down in order to make the numbers go up.

“uh? how is this…” as soonyoung leaves the position and seokmin’s quick to step off, careful to stay behind him, his crescent-moon eyes go wide in surprise.

“what? did it break already?” seokmin’s voice comes next to soonyoung’s shoulders, provoking as always. the latter almost jumped on spot.

“oh my god, fuck off! i almost fainted!” he slaps him in retaliation, although the jolting movement of all of his “extras” only make seokmin smile more.

he’s having the time of his life kissing soonyoung’s pout away while he gropes his sides, the soft flesh flexible like dough under his hands.

“sorry, it’s just so cute when you don’t know what’s happening while deep down you really want that weight on you…” seokmin explains his actions, giving soonyoung’s belly a few gentle taps.

soonyoung gasps.

“w-what, who said i want that?”

“you don’t need to verbally communicate, your panic says it all.”

“i hate you,” he complains, lightly pushing seokmin away. with the touch, soonyoung notices how his fingers sinked more than usual, seokmin’s chest definitely more cushioned than he remembers. interesting.

“no you don’t,” seokmin retorts meanwhile soonyoung’s busy checking out his frame, gaze attentive to how the pyjama shorts hugged his thighs in a way that it certainly didn’t before. “wanna reserve this friday for a stuffing? it’s been a while since we did that, right?”

the option runned through soonyoung’s head while he rest his hand on seokmin’s hip. it was… softer than before? a gentle squeeze was gave on the spot as a thought formed in his mind, bright and alluring.

“actually…” he says, letting digits press on seokmin’s waist. it’s delightful how they knead the supple flesh. “i think i’m ok for now. we can have a watch party, though. we really need to catch up on that mexican drama we said we’d wait for the episodes to pile up, remember?”

“oh, right! that sounds good.” soonyoung nods just to reassure it, even though his focus is long lost in the new revelation under his palms. seokmin offers, “but do you want anything special to eat? to compensate for my awful behaviour of scaring you…” he singsongs in a mock.

soonyoung grins, unbothered by the teasing and knowing exactly what to choose in order to confirm his suppositions.

“no. pizza’s fine.”

***

friday comes after a very stressful week, so seokmin doesn’t mind keeping his work clothes on as he proceeds to open a beer and text soonyoung that he’s already at home. they usually get 10 minutes before or after one another, so it’ll probably be a short wait.

seokmin frees three buttons of his shirt as he heads to open the windows to make the breeze circulate. it’s hot today, and thank god he still got a few more beers left in the fridge in case soonyoung takes longer than expected to arrive.

he continues to get comfortable in spite of the formal dressing, tie being discarded on a chair and shirt untucked from his pants. the belt is unbuckled along a sigh of relief, the pressure of a whole day in and out of meetings seeming to dissipate with the action. seokmin adjusts the tight fabric of the bottom clothes, still, tugging it in an attempt to feel less trapped. if he was in one of his moods, it’d already be gone, but since the night was settled on a watch party, he didn’t wanna appear too horny.

he sits down on the sofa, not seeming to notice how his body sinks further in the cushion, takes a generous gulp of the beer can, and waits.

***

seokmin is on his second can and finishing a bag of chips when soonyoung arrives, three large pizza boxes stacked on his hands.

“hellooo,” he greets, getting rid of his shoes before stepping into the apartment. “me and the pizzas are home!”

“wow, what a perfect timing,” seokmin comments as he gets up, a small grunt leaving his lips due to the effort after having sat back so comfortably.

“isn’t it?” soonyoung grins, knowing the two of them would get grumpy if they had to wait for the order still. it seemed a good idea to get their dinner on the way.

seokmin gives him a gentle peck, helping with the pizza boxes as soonyoung analyzed the small table—not as empty as he generally found.

“were you already snacking without me?” he narrowed his eyes, grabbing the empty chip bag as if presenting evidence.

“hm, yeah? you know i can’t drink on an empty stomach, it makes me dizzy,” seokmin mumbles, apparently not mindful of the curious stare he was receiving.

soonyoung’s brain is instantly alarmed by the observation, fighting back a smile as he looks at his boyfriend’s bloated middle, more than obvious when he bents to organize the pizzas.

“right.” soonyoung licks his lips, not strong enough to stop himself from slapping seokmin’s ass just to feel it jiggling. damn.

“hey!” seokmin yelps, meeting soonyoung’s mischievous expression when he straightens up. “what’s this now, didn’t we agree on a drama night?”

“am i not allowed to have fun anymore?” soonyoung feigns a shocked face, palm at his chest.

seokmin shoves him playfully, holding out his hand next to invite him to sit down.

“yeah, of course…” he says before reaching out to grab a slice, wasting no time in biting it almost in half.

and to think soonyoung is the one being teased for his eating habits all the time…

maybe it was time someone got conscious of their acquired manners as well.

***

soonyoung thinks this is the most self-control he’s had for months, but it doesn’t hurt as he thought it would. the holding back doesn’t seem too bad, although he spent the day taking it easy on his meals. after all, it is for a good cause. he’s now more than sure seokmin didn’t enjoy his gain as a merely passive watcher. he, too, spilled as they sat, both from the sides and from the front, stomach a protruding roundness that only drew more attention as he finished the second beer in small sips.

seokmin didn't have soonyoung's somewhat desperate way of eating, but he had a surprising ability to stuff food in his mouth. it was an entertainment, a private show, watching him devour his favourite dish in big bites that left his cheeks full for almost a whole minute.

soonyoung took advantage of his distraction with the series running on the tv (as well as with the absurd amount of cheese he swallowed each time) to revisit the places that caught his attention throughout the week—the thick thighs that doubled in size when he sat down, the arms that gained a layer of fat on top of the muscle he built at the gym he went to three days a week. maybe that could have slowed down the gain at first, but it wasn’t able to do a miracle in the face of mindlessly snacking during the day with the excuse of filling up soonyoung.

thighs, arms, belly, cute cheeks to match soonyoung’s. his ass was on another level, certainly giving him more comfort to stay seated for hours if he wanted to.

and the fucking pants. soonyoung revels in the thought that this might come full circle in a short time, because soon that poor fabric isn’t gonna stretch more to accommodate his boyfriend’s indulgences.

“hey, is there still pepperoni left?” he asks, partly to mask his embarrassing enthusiasm, and a little to see seokmin’s roundness showing again as he leans for a slice.

“hm, i think we ate it all, but let me see.”

soon came, well, sooner than soonyoung had expected. as seokmin surges forward, he lets out an audible groan, which is accompanied by an also audible rip.

if soonyoung had cat-like ears, they’d be up and moving at the moment.

“what was that?”

“what,” seokmin parrots, slowly dropping the slice in its box while he moves back to sit properly and inspect the presumed damage.

“oh my god,” soonyoung spits out as he watches seokmin’s hands travel to his own middle, lifting his shirt just enough to understand what happened. in case seokmin himself didn’t get it, soonyoung exclaims like a kid who won a brand new toy, “you tore open your work pants!”

“no i– i didn’t, i–” it’s useless. he did. and there’s no time to comprehend the extent of his humiliation.

in a blink, soonyoung is all over him, pinning him to the sofa in a trap with no escape (he had the weight advantage, in the end). his thighs settle on seokmin’s lap without mercy, eliciting a grunt out of him.

“s-soonyoung, wait,” seokmin pleads, the fullness of his belly much more heavy in that position. it’s mortifying.

and soonyoung isn’t kind.

“wait for what? you don’t want me to see how fat you’ve gotten?”

it’s like the air is sucked out of seokmin’s lungs, his insides burning in a mix of shame and awkward arousal.

“shut up, you’re the one to talk,” he tries to quip, feeling ridiculous to be downgraded by someone who’s up his size by a considerable amount of pounds.

“yeah, i’m the one to talk, because at least i’m aware of it,” soonyoung bites back, lifting seokmin’s shirt to finally reveal the chubbiness that had taken over a defined abdomen. he bites his lower lip, entranced. “look at this, how did you manage to hide it from me, huh?”

“i didn’t hide anything!” seokmin squirms, hating that he’s somehow enjoying the attention. “there’s nothing to hide.”

“of course there’s nothing to hide,” soonyoung responds like he’s sputtering facts. “you have a lot to show now, actually.”

seokmin mutters a shut up, breathless both due to the shame of being so blatantly teased by his boyfriend and to the rich meal stuffing him.

it doesn’t help that soonyoung has landed his salient tummy exactly where his dick is starting to tent, and neither does the satisfying sensation of small, cute fingers feeling him up as they please.

the question that leaves soonyoung’s mouth is shoot without further thought, “can i feed you?”

seokmin chuckles, unsure if out of disbelief or nervousness.

“you’re really into this roles reversed thing, aren’t you?”

“it’s just that now i see why you got so eager to fatten me up…” he pouts, almost convincing with the innocent facade he puts on. seokmin swallows a moan when a squeeze pinches his flanks. “so much more to grab, ah,” soonyoung is caught by surprise when two palms land on his ass, making him screech. he smirks as seokmin encourages him to move, pressing him against his hard-on. two can play that game, right? “more seokminnie for me,” he whines, smushing his belly against seokmin’s.

“don’t get too excited, i’m not gonna let myself go like you,” seokmin warns in between a grunt, grasping soonyoung’s butt with fierce to let him know he can yet take control.

“right. keep telling yourself that.” soonyoung rolls his eyes, wiggling his hips just to be a tease before getting up to bring the small table closer, one hand resting at seokmin’s tummy to keep him in place. a slice in his hold, he plops on seokmin’s lap again. “we’ll soon be sharing clothes.”

seokmin snickers in disdain.

“you wish. enjoy this feeding session, ‘cause it’s gonna be the last.”

soonyoung bites his lower lip, knowing at his core that no, it wouldn’t. his boyfriend was just a stubborn asshole when he wanted to, but soonyoung could be much more stubborn.

“if you say so… now open up, baby. let’s see what more can this belly fit now that it’s free from evil buttons, hm?”

“he’s like a hopeless teenage boy, gyu,” jun had explained during a quick meeting they had to talk about the moving, chatting over coffee and pastries. “if no one’s paying attention, he lives off of bread and jam, you know?”

mingyu, after a sip of his americano, exhaled a light chuckle.

“that’s cute. how old did you say he is again?”

jun tapped at his chin. “he’s a 98, so 24.”

“yeah, should at least know how to fry an egg,” mingyu pondered, “but no problem, i can cook for two, you know i don’t mind.” he shrugged.

“cool. i have a feeling you two will get along,” jun affirmed, intending not only to assure mingyu but himself, since he didn’t want to be the one responsible for putting any of his friends in a bad situation.

“yeah, i’m rooting for it,” mingyu complemented, leaning back on his seat with a dreamy sigh.

turns out junhui was not wrong, but wasn’t totally right. they did get along pretty well, mingyu’s puppy-like personality filling the voids hansol’s cat-like one left, and vice-versa. sometimes, one had more ability to solve a problem, or could take over certain chores better than the other. that balanced out the moments that could be seen as a burden to their newly developed relationship, especially when it came to a topic that was, funnily enough, mentioned in advance: food.

mingyu discovered that, while hansol, if junhui was correct, would survive on bread and butter or something like that, it didn’t mean one. it didn’t mean he ate little. in fact, hansol was actually more akin to a human vacuum when it came to any edible thing available, which started to get on mingyu’s nerves as he never knew how much he should be cooking.

or for how long he should leave his meal out of his watch.

“hansol!” mingyu exclaimed, about to spit a train of curses. he sighed deeply and gestured in the air, “i was gone for two minutes, how the hell did you manage to vanish with my ramyeon?!”

hansol blinked one, two times, slurping the noodles in the process.

“sorry, hyung.” he didn’t look really sorry as he said that, which made mingyu squint his eyes in disbelief. “you left it unsupervised and i thought you could just make more if you really wanted it…”

“unsupervised? i was taking a phone call!” retorted mingyu, forcing his roommate to stop for an instant to think about another reply.

“well, it’d be cold when you got back…”

mingyu exhaled in defeat.

“alright. i’ll just make some more.”

in the middle of bringing more ramen to his lips, hansol stopped, eyes attentive:

“how much more?”

mingyu frowned. “haven’t you eaten your share already?”

“hmm, still hungry.” hansol rubbed his stomach unpretentiously, the loose t-shirt he wore hiding the slight roundness that was already settling on his lower belly.

mingyu gave himself a moment to consider, pondering if the boy was being too greedy or was indeed hungry still.

since he didn’t wanna risk being a prick and had to make a new portion anyway, he decided that adding a bit more wouldn’t hurt.

“ok.”

***

it kept happening. hansol’s never-ending appetite, mingyu’s ever-disposition to feed him. as the time passed, they became more comfortable around each other, their day to day dynamic much better than the beginning weeks of living together. chores were shared, personal space was respected, habits were learned. they functioned like proper roommates nowadays.

one particular thursday, mingyu entered the apartment with two plastic bags hanging from his hand, a paper one under his arm.

“brought takeout. too tired to cook for you today,” he informed, putting them on the dining room table.

hansol’s eyes glistened, a strange and curious feeling shining from them. mingyu was a bit confused, until he realized, “for us. i meant for us,” he corrected himself as he took the containers from the bags.

hansol, however, didn’t seem too affected by it. his hyung had said what he said.

“ah, mingyu hyung,” he purred in the sweetest voice possible as he opened the boxes. “you’re the best, you know?”

mingyu simply smiled, feeling a warm blush creep up his cheeks.

***

considering the basic maths of hansol constantly on the hunt for food, meanwhile mingyu made sure there was plenty available, even when he couldn’t cook himself, in three months there were surely some visible changes, precisely on hansol’s wardrobe and waistline. the loose shirts, shorts and pants weren’t so loose anymore, hugging tighter wherever his new weight settled: his soft, chubby (and adorable, mingyu thought every time a shirt rode up to reveal skin) belly, his squishy cheeks and arms, his supple thighs. no body part escaped from the routine of being pampered by his roommate.

and said roommate… well, mingyu got overwhelmed at first in the face of this new “obligation” he ended up taking responsibility for. from the first month, though, he started seeing as another part of his day, another duty as natural was brushing his teeth in the morning. plus, he did enjoy how much hansol seemed to like his food, as well as he sensed some weird kind of pride in watching him always getting full from it.

(did he dig too deep to understand that? no. would he be confronted with it anyway? sooner than he thought).

that happened when he came home to a sight he didn’t ever dream of, but it certainly seemed to have come out of one.

hansol was sprawled on the sofa, legs opened and body slouched, two hands over his shirtless torso, more exactly running over his distended stomach, which was obviously filled to its maximum.

his sweats no longer needed to have its strings tied, stretched under the curve his belly already made over his lap.

mingyu felt his face heat up. it’d be less embarrassing to have caught him naked, to be honest.

“h-hansol?”

the reply came first as a hiccup.

“yeah?”

mingyu walked with caution into the room, as if one wrong step would make him wake up from that weird dream.

“what did you… what did you do?” he asked, tone not a reprimand, but pure curiosity and… desire? he felt his head spin.

hansol breathed in and out, pressing his fingers on a few tight spots. he seemed to be concentrating on his mission in order to not appear affected by mingyu’s presence. “ate the lasagna you left in the oven… you cooked that for dinner, right?”

“hansol, that was supposed to be our dinner for three days,” mingyu pointed out, his expression communicating the shock that buzzed through his body. he got closer, eager to see hansol better. to touch him. “i thought you’d eat like half of it and leave the rest for the other nights!”

“oh…” hansol’s face was bright red, as red as the tomato sauce around his lips.

before mingyu could stop himself, he asked, “jesus, how did you fit all of that inside?”

another hiccup slipped from hansol’s mouth. this time, mingyu was able to witness how much it made the rolls on his hips and waist jiggle.

“p-practice?” he stuttered, now aware of the interest in the older man’s eyes. he decided to give his inner considerations a shot, “i’m no lightweight, hyung. never have been. dunno why you didn’t seem to believe that.”

mingyu’s eyebrows almost met in confusion.

“what? what do you mean believe?”

hansol made his best to sit straight, the weight of the food a ridiculous obstacle. he felt like he needed fo defend himself, “well, you kept increasing the portion sizes, and bringing more food! it’s like you wanted me to eat!”

mingyu was moving his arms in the air, frantically.

“hansol, what the fuck? i kept making and bringing more food because how else could i keep up with your appetite?!”

“oh.” with his arms behind his back, belly looking even bigger and making mingyu dizzy, hansol looked part cute and part sinful, the puzzled face turning into one of shame. mingyu wanted to bite him. “so it wasn’t like… a challenge or something?”

“what? no! why would i challenge you?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. you seemed happy when i ate. especially when it was something you made, but i figured it was the same when you brought it, too. so i kept trying my best to enjoy,” he justified, speech speed forcing him to stop to breathe. “i mean, clearly that had some consequences, but…” he gestured to his belly, shifting in place to accommodate himself better. it was the first time his gain was being openly acknowledged.

when hansol decided to finally meet mingyu’s eyes, he hiccuped one last time in surprise. no negative emotion laid there. quite the opposite.

“you’re ridiculous,” mingyu sputtered, taking a step closer so they almost touched.

hansol smiled, mischievously.

“hmm, am i?” he laid back again, rubbing his tummy like he was inviting, daring mingyu. “you kept making sure i was stuffed, so i don’t think you’re so innocent.”

“i wasn’t– shut up!” mingyu lost his composure, dropping his knees on the couch and pushing hansol’s arm. “you’re the one who can barely move right now, i wouldn’t be so big-mouthed about this.”

hansol whined.

“hyung.” he grabbed mingyu’s hand, guiding it to his abdomen. “you need to take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

mingyu sighed. big sigh. why fight it?

“you little fucker,” he cursed, grip tigheting on the softness of hansol’s lower belly. “you’re a spoiled brat, that’s what you are.”

“hmm?” hansol hummed, his palm onto mingyu’s knuckles in the intention of guiding his movements.

although mingyu accepted it, he also sat properly, pulled hansol closer to cuddle him and joined with his previous free hand, pinching side rolls just to see hansol yelping.

“keep still. tell me if it hurts,” he ordered, a pang on both his heart and between his legs as hansol sighed, satisfied.

at a certain moment, mingyu had to pinch himself to just to make sure that wasn’t a strange hallucination, especially when hansol’s whines became more of pleasure than of protest. he kept rubbing the space until it was almost completely soft, drinking hansol’s little noises like they were a heavenly beverage.

“the curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back” says an ancient proverb that’s more well-known for its first part. the second one usually comes as a surprise for most people, and sure gives a new perspective to the saying. curiosity wasn’t supposed to be a bad thing, nor something worth of negative consequences. knowledge should be celebrated, after all.

to change the animal in question, though, would it make a difference? let’s say, a puppy. a very curious, nosy puppy boy who was all on his fours (not for the reasons he commonly got into that position), grunting and sighing as he didn’t find what he was looking for. would he end up in trouble for such eagerness to find out about everything and anything?

mingyu was, beyond all, impatient. and it seemed the bigger he’d gotten, the more impatient he’d grew, too, always whining and demanding and pouting when he didn’t get what he wanted. right now, the small noises of frustration came from the mystery of where had his boyfriend put his new pair of jeans, bought last week when mingyu decided his then current ones were getting too snug. all clothes seem too snug when you reach third digit lbs, you know. especially when you surpass the first hundred.

so there mingyu was, on all fours, belly touching the ground as he sweated due to the effort to keep supporting his own weight. the closet wasn’t the coolest place in their apartment, which only made him more miserable.

“where the fuck is this…” he paused in the middle of cursing when he found a cardboard box where ‘DONATION’ was written. “oh.”

he pulled the box out of its place, suddenly forgotten about his pants.

it wasn’t supposed to be anything interesting, nor surprising since the purpose of those clothes being there were literally stamped on the cardboard, but somehow mingyu started to grab and inspect piece by piece, laughing at some weird t-shirts and gasping at others that he considered too cute to be thrown away.

in the process of rummaging through them, however, an idea lit up in his mind. some of them were pretty. pretty enough for mingyu to take his time examining the fabric, the striped pattern. obsessing with how small wonwoo was in comparison to him.

if he took just an instant to think about it further, he wouldn’t do it. mingyu is not the type to ponder, though, so before he can understand how disastrous his actions can be, his torso is already naked, hands gabbing excited at wonwoo’s t-shirt to pull over his head.

it looks like a crop top. and that’s being gentle. the fabric got stretched, the effort to make it enlarged enough for mingyu’s width turning it into a second skin, almost. it barely covers his fat breasts, the sleeves are suffocating his swollen arms.

curiosity gets the cat killed, and the puppy… the puppy gets stuck, breathing hard when he notices it’s tight, tight, not the common tight of his clothes. the collar hugged his neck, making him realize how extra he got everywhere.

a voice sounds from the room, “mingyu-ya?”

mingyu froze. he knew what was coming for him, and it was not flowers and chocolate.

“hey, why are you…” wonwoo stopped mid-sentence when he saw the scene in front of him. “woah.”

“i think i stretched it,” mingyu spat out like it wasn’t obvious that he had completely ruined his boyfriend’s t-shirt.

“stretched it? baby, you’re about to rip it,” wonwoo chuckled, biting the inside of his cheek as he drinks in the sight of mingyu’s enormous frame displayed like that. his belly hung over his sweatpants, full of rolls and stretch marks, his navel deep and begging for a finger inside. “how did you find these? and why were you trying them on? there’s no way they’d fit you,” wonwoo makes sure to point it out, putting his hands over the soft skin.

“i was looking for my new pants and found the box,” mingyu explained, sighing when he feels his boyfriend caressing the large area of his gut. “and i just thought it’d be fun but… but now i’m…” the words struggled to be out, until he expelled them in a sigh, “i can’t get it off.”

wonwoo’s eyes glistened in both desire and malice.

“got so fat you can’t lift your arms?”

“t-that’s not it! i can lift them alright!” mingyu raised them in retaliation, which only made things worse. everything jiggled, in a way that was almost ridiculous.

“ooh, poor thing, need help from his boyfriend to get out from the tiny, tiny shirt you stole from him?” wonwoo mocked, pinching his boyfriend’s double chin. “god, it doesn’t even cover your tits.”

mingyu flushed. there was something terribly arousing about having his overgrown, fat chest called tits. especially when said tits were being squeezed by his lover’s slender hands with no mercy.

“w-wonwoo, please…”

“please what, baby?” wonwoo teased, holding the two breasts under the tight shirt. his cold hands provoked a shiver on mingyu’s skin.

“help me… h-help me take it off,” mingyu whimpered, face violently red from embarrassment.

“what if i don’t want to?”

“p-please.”

“alright, let me just have this for a moment.”

maybe there was a time wonwoo was less shameless. currently it was not the case, so he made no ceremony before putting his mouth over mingyu’s left nipple, sucking on it like it was a very sweet source of pleasure. he did the same with the right one, encouraged by the moans his boyfriend slipped, fingers entertained between wonwoo’s hair strands.

“already worked up, big guy?” wonwoo mocked when he let go of the right tit, a sly smile on his face while he gazed at mingyu’s wrecked face, lips circled in an ‘o’ and forehead painted by a thin layer of sweat. “can’t even stand up for a few minutes to have your boyfriend suck on you?” the only response he got was a mere whine. “alright, arms up,” wonwoo commanded, finally kind enough to help mingyu out of the t-shirt.

after some struggle, they managed to roll it up and pull it off, a fit of giggles elicited from wonwoo in the process as well as cries of protest from mingyu.

wonwoo folds the t-shirt neatly, like it isn’t all funny-looking after mingyu’s try-on.

“gonna keep this in case a good opportunity to make you use it comes at hand.”

mingyu smacked his arm.

“i’m not gonna wear it again. ever.”