M.akoto thought that nothing would interrupt his beeline to the bed. He knew that if he sat back down after grabbing dessert, he wouldn’t be able to get back up again, so he just camped out in the kitchen for the tail end of his incredibly self-indulgent binge. It was great; it meant easier access to even more food without having to get up and make a big trip out of it every time, but just standing around for that long resulted in what he swears is the worst belly ache he’s ever had. The strain put way too much pressure on his already sore stomach, just adding to the agonizing tightness and cramping. 

He’s in pain, he’s tired, and he’s unbearably horny; laying down is pretty much a catch-all first step to relieving all those problems. And it definitely was the action plan, that is, until he caught a glance at himself in the bedroom mirror. Now, he’s standing there a bit dumbfounded, one hand still cradling the underside of his swollen gut for some modicum of relief, the other lightly resting on top with fascination. 

His eyes are wide as he takes in the sight. Yeah, this was exactly what he intended when he wore this shirt, but… well geez, he didn’t think it would be this dramatic. 

When he got home and decided this was how he’d spend the evening, he thought he’d try something kind of fun and pull out his old button-up shirt from his very first Foundation uniform- one that he never quite returned after his sudden, storming-out resignation. It’s a good memory even to this day; it was the first tangible step he made to doing what he wanted with his life. To carving his own hope for himself and shaping with his own two hands what form it would take. He was a different person back then. 

…A much smaller person, too. 

Letting go of a tense, pained breath, he feels the fabric straining tighter around him, the sensation making his face grow even hotter. Honestly, the shirt is probably part of what’s making him so uncomfortable. But that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? The sensation is driving him absolutely crazy, and seeing the effect is something else. Puckering gaps make up the spaces between each button, all of them just barely hanging on for dear life as each one forces a tight ring around his soft, swollen tummy. It’s always been sort of difficult for him to fully comprehend his progress; unlike B.yakuya, he isn’t exactly a numbers kind of guy. He really didn’t think he’d gained all that much, yet here he is, practically busting out of a shirt that fit him quite modestly a few years ago. 

It’s… really, really hot. He feels really, really hot. He’d even go as far as to say handsome. He’s so much bigger than he thought; the sight of his unexpectedly plump thighs and protruding belly in the mirror makes him shiver. Even the way his soft arms just barely squeeze into his sleeves is attractive. He’s sure if he moved just right, he might even split a seam. (And honestly, ripping this stupid shirt to shreds does have its appeal.) 

Ah… but, he did come in here for a reason, as he’s reminded by another harsh pang from his overstuffed gut. With a sympathetic rub and a small grunt, he plops down on the edge of the bed, and-

*ping!*

M.akoto’s eyes shoot up at the mirror. His belly surges forward against it’s more spacious confines with a little jiggle. There’s the clattering of hard plastic on wood, and suddenly, the swell of his stomach now occupies the space where there used to be a button. 

He can’t even begin to stifle his moan, followed by a quiet, “Oh, fuck…” 

That’s… wow. 

M.akoto just gawks for a moment, taking in the sight with increasing arousal. That was like something out of a porno. Yeah, sure, it happens in reality all the time, but not to him. He honestly didn’t think he was anywhere near putting on that kind of weight. Or… gosh, did he really stuff himself that much? That’s a possibility, too. Either one is…

Holy crap. 

Tentatively, he breaks his frozen standstill to rest a hand on the newly exposed flesh. It’s soft and supple to the touch- a layer of pillowy chub still pliable despite how tightly-packed his gut is underneath. Damn, he really did get fat, huh? 

The next button down is on its last leg, too, but unfortunately, it doesn’t seem intent on giving. After all, the Foundation’s uniforms were designed for field combat, not just formality; if they were totally flimsy, they wouldn’t really serve their purpose. 

…damn it. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to absolutely demolish this stupid thing. 

With a shaky sigh, M.akoto shifts a little in an attempt to get comfortable. Just the thought of moving too much makes him wince, but he’s not exactly relaxed where he’s at. And as much as he doesn’t want to, the shirt should probably come off. 

His fingers tremble a bit as he tries for that one oddly determined button, straining to get any leverage with just how tight it’s pulled. It’s gonna feel sooo much better once he unhooks it, he just… fuck. 

With a groan of frustration, M.akoto flops backwards onto the bed, letting go of the tense breath he’d been holding with a frankly sad attempt to “suck it in.” 

…Y’know, if he could manage to pop this one, too, then he wouldn’t need to keep trying like this.

He has always been a bit too optimistic for his own good.

________________________

It didn’t take long for everything to settle down. There was laughter and music, then much calmer conversation and dwindling energy as the night ran on. Eventually, they all said their goodbyes- hugs and well wishes on the way out, all eagerly looking forward to the next time they could visit each other again, especially since they’d all been so close to losing each other before. Class 78 (plus K.omaru) is just about the oddest group of individuals you’ll ever find, but damn it if they didn’t make a family out of that chaos. Their little gatherings and struggles to grasp a hold of “normal” despite the state of the world around them are treasured, even if their colorful personalities clash at times.

When everyone leaves, the silence isn’t chilling. In fact, after all the festivities, it’s a bit welcome. Hosting is hard; M.akoto is grateful for the opportunity just to get off his feet and relax, still enveloped in the warm afterglow of the evening.

He gives a heavy, satisfied sigh as he sets his plate aside, already having dug into the leftovers from dinner as a midnight snack. He’s more than deserved it after everything today, and cleaning up after everyone really worked up his appetite. Granted, there’s a chance he may have overdid it… again.

M.akoto shifts a bit to lean back against the couch, unzipping his jeans to make just a bit more room as he stifles a burp. A quiet moan escapes him at the sudden relief, and he gives his stomach a light pat with a bit of fascination. Gosh, he’s sore… But it feels good, too. Being able to just relax all full and warm like this is strangely soothing.

When B.yakuya finally returns, now wearing pajamas, his gaze pretty quickly falls to his partner’s protruding stomach. “Seems you’ve found yourself in quite the predicament,” he remarks offhandedly. His eyebrow raises in a mix of amusement and intrigue as he takes a more careful look, now seated next to M.akoto on the couch. “How much did you even eat?”

“Just a little bit.” He smiles sheepishly; they both know it’s a lie. “Hey, you can’t tease me; I was hungry…!”

“Fine, I won’t.” It’s rare to see B.yakuya smile so gently. Even to M.akoto, it’s a bit of a pleasant surprise. “I’m glad you were able to enjoy it. Good job.” He leans forward to plant the lightest kiss on M.akoto’s forehead, one arm left wrapping around his shoulders along the edge of the couch when he’s done.

He’s handling M.akoto as carefully as possible- like he’ll shatter if he’s too forward, yet M.akoto still unravels completely at the gestures. He feels even fuzzier than before. “Hey, you had quite a bit yourself earlier.” M.akoto gently prods his partner in the stomach in a last-ditch effort at retaliation. He can’t be the only one getting all flustered.

Unfortunately for him, B.yakuya takes it in stride, and M.akoto ends up right back at square one on the teasing game. “Of course I did. You did well making all of it; I enjoy good food. But you and I both know it’s unreasonable to compare.” A prod given right back in return does a lot more damage to M.akoto than it did to B.yakuya, and the former gives a pained wince at the attack.

After all, the deflection is just that: a deflection. B.yakuya doesn’t hold a candle to M.akoto, who’s stuffed, swollen tummy is fighting to poke out the bottom of the chunky sweater that fit him just fine earlier. Honestly, he’s almost shocked. Part of him didn’t expect to end up this bloated; just looking at the aftermath is kinda trippy. “Yeah, fine. You win.”

“Naturally.”

For a split second, M.akoto considers shoving him, but the phantom pain of that poke still haunts him. He genuinely doesn’t think he’d survive another counterattack; just the thought is enough to make him groan. “Ughh… I‘m so full… I seriously don’t think I could eat another bite.” His voice slips into a messy slur as the sleepiness starts to set in. Gosh, he didn’t realize just how tired he was until he finally got the chance to sit down. He feels like he’s been moving non-stop since he woke up this morning; getting everything ready was a lot of work.

B.yakuya’s light-hearted chuckle sends M.akoto’s heart fluttering all over again. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hmm…” Before he knows it, M.akoto finds himself slouched against his fiancé. Winter nights are cold; B.yakuya’s chest is warm. “You’re gonna hold me and give me kisses and a belly rub…”

“What? You knew exactly what you were getting into; you can’t seriously expect me to bail you out.” He says that, but… why is he holding him already, then? M.akoto knows him too well at this point; he can turn that arrogant exterior to mush in seconds.

After all, a little pout can go a long way at times like these. “You mean you’re not gonna take care of me at all?” It’s really hard to care about hiding his neediness when he’s this exhausted. Whining a bit never hurt anyone, right?

B.yakuya huffs. “Fine… I suppose I could. But only a little.” He sounds so begrudging. He realizes he’s allowed to want it too, right? “Come here.”

Well, an invite is an invite; M.akoto’s sure not going to complain. He nuzzles closer almost immediately, shifting around until he finds just the right position to get snuggled. “Is this okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself; you’re not that heavy. Just get comfortable.”

With a soft smile, he does just that. It all makes him feel a little giddy: he can feel B.yakuya’s chest rise and fall beneath him, and sharing their warmth is a welcome reprieve from the cold. That, and he just feels pleasantly weighed down. There’s a certain fascination in noting just how big he looks; it has him more than a little flustered. But… he’s proud of himself, too. He really did manage to eat a lot- way more than he usually does, and that’s worth a pat on the back, at least.

“May I touch you, love?” There it is again- that tenderness. That hesitation or caution. He’s trying so hard not to hurt him. And… M.akoto really does appreciate it. It means a lot to have a safe space so carefully preserved when so much of life in today’s age is so stressful.

“Mhm...” M.akoto gives a little nod, already struggling to keep his eyes open. This is-

“Ah! Cold!”

“Hush.” B.yakuya’s hands don’t leave completely, but he does make a point to avoid M.akoto’s bare skin, at least for now. Instead, he focuses on the area of his stomach still covered by his sweater, letting his hands drift over the taut surface with dedicated assessment. He tries applying just a bit of pressure- light at first, but M.akoto’s quiet hum of contentment encourages him to go further.

“That feels really nice… Thank you…” He sighs softly, slowly but surely untensing as his partner rubs firm, methodical circles into his belly. He wasn’t in a ton of pain or anything to begin with, but having someone help soothe the little aches like this is amazing.

“Mm, I’m glad to hear it,” B.yakuya mumbles in return. He seems completely engrossed in the task at hand- a little too distant for a smooth conversation. He’s not sure whether to be more flattered or embarrassed. It’s funny- or maybe even a little cute- seeing his typically stoic partner focused on something so domestic. He can try passing it off as just another task all he wants, but the notes of tenderness seeping into his voice betray him: he likes taking care of M.akoto just as much as M.akoto likes being taken care of.

They don’t talk for a while after that- just enjoying each other's company. B.yakuya is quiet, but every once and a while, M.akoto feels a little puff of warm air against the back of his neck- evidence of somewhat of a smile. Then there’s M.akoto. His breath is still coming in shallow pants because of the pressure, and the noise from his tummy is the only sound in the otherwise silent room. It’s starting to make him a bit self-conscious… So, he tries to regulate his breathing a bit better- taking a deep breath despite the difficulty.

In retrospect, it definitely wasn’t the right move. All it does is force a thick belch past his slightly parted lips (the belly rub definitely didn’t help). It’s an immediate relief, significantly lessening his increasing discomfort, and he can’t stop the soft moan that follows it. Still, he feels his face burning after the fact. That… definitely wasn’t the game plan.

“E-excuse me…” he fumbles, one hand clasped tight over his mouth.

B.yakuya just laughs it off, a chuckle sneaking into his tone as he soothes, “Shh… Relax.” He reaches to comb his fingers through M.akoto’s hair in slow, repetitive strokes; it makes his scalp all tingly. “I thought I told you to get comfortable; that helped, didn’t it?”

Oh geez. “Y-yeah, it did...” He does feel way better than he did a few moments ago. Honestly he wouldn’t be half as freaked out if they weren’t so close in proximity. But... if B.yakuya doesn’t care, then he’ll try really hard not to care either. This is a nice moment; relaxing doesn’t sound too bad at all. He has the pleasure and the privilege of feeling completely safe, even if it’s just for a little bit, and it’s only fair that he tries to enjoy that while he can. Especially if B.yakuya is enjoying himself too.

“Thank you for taking care of me…” M.akoto mumbles. Between all the petting, rubbing, and overall pampering, he’s starting to feel ridiculously sleepy. “And for everything else today; it was really nice.”

“Of course.” He presses a kiss to the back of his head, and M.akoto nuzzles against him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It’s…” He yawns, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. B.yakuya thinks he sounds like a kitten. “It’s important that we all keep seeing each other, y’know? S’nice…”

Sure enough, it’s only a matter of time before M.akoto can’t keep his eyes open. The stubborn flutter of his eyelashes stops as his drowsiness takes over, and before long, he goes completely limp in B.yakuya’s arms. Perfectly still, except for his slow, steady breathing.

B.yakuya ponders for a while whether to wake him. He’s still in his regular clothes from the day, and he probably should get to bed. He also drools in his sleep, and admittedly, the idea of being on the receiving end isn’t too appealing. However...

Well, he deserves to rest while he can, yes? No harm in staying like this for a little.

…only a little.

And only a little was all it took for B.yakuya to drift off, too.

__________

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!