#self writing

Emmet was feeling weird.

He couldn't place why or where, but he felt as though there was some kind of soft bubbling inside himself that made him feel a little off.

These sorts of things eased up with a bit of movement, he had learned, so he began walking laps across the rooms of the house to deal with the strange sensation.

Pretty soon however he found his attempt to be fruitless, as it didn't help the feeling at all; as a matter of fact it seemed to make things worse, as he began to feel warmer and so heavy that he had to pant and heave slightly with every step, and to top it all off a strange dizziness started taking over him and making him stumble. As quickly as his now notably hindered gait allowed him, he retreated back to the living room and plopped on the couch with a loud sigh.

As soon as he sat he felt that heaviness he couldn't place sag down a little, giving him some solace while also causing his legs to part as though he weighed too much for them to stay close. He looked down at himself, puzzled - and immediately his face turned bright red.

There was the cause of his troubles: his stomach was growing bigger before his eyes, rumbling and bubbling as it did, hard as a rock and already bulging out enough that he couldn't see his loins!

Emmet rushed through his memories of the day, trying to figure out what could have caused this and how to stop it before he was found out.

Had he eaten anything out of the ordinary? Lunch had been a while ago, and he hadn't had anything particularly heavy or that made him gassy, and either way whatever was in his belly filled him with a completely different sensation compared to those other two. Well, it was also true that liked to snack around a lot, but he had been on his best behavior today! All he might have had in-between meals would have been some crackers, a chocolate browny, and maybe a couple spoonfuls of jam, none of which could have caused such a puzzling reaction! Maybe it was an allergy? But he didn't feel sick at all...

While he wasted time thinking his belly kept growing and growing and growing at a steady rhythm, pinning him to the cushions, until he was taken out of his thoughts by the way his shirt stays and the worn elastic band of his underwear had too begun straining against it as it rose like bread dough left to rest. He shifted to try and relieve the pressure, although it really wasn't uncomfortable, the opposite even, and oh, oh, ah - he didn't notice it right away, but he started sighing quietly as he rocked his hips upwards in an attempt to appease his expanding tummy and coax it into stopping, fingertips tracing its outline at it stubbornly insisted on pushing against his formerly fitting clothes.

"Somebody ate something he shouldn't have, hm?"

He retreated his hand immediately, burning with embarrassment. Piers smirked at him as he leaned on the kitchen doorframe, looking at him with the face of someone whose plan has worked perfectly.

So he'd left that brownie there on the table as a trap, to teach his boyfriend a lesson - but what had Emmet done?

And what had he put in it for it to do this?

The conductor opened and closed his mouth like dumbfounded Magikarp, getting redder and redder as he failed to explain himself or ask either of those questions between the shame of being seen like that and his stomach now starting to push really hard against his belt, threatening to start hurting terribly if he didn't do something about it.

He hastily reached to unbuckle it, but the Gym leader tutted at him loudly, grinning: "Keep those hands off yourself."

To say Emmet wanted to combust as he obeyed embarrassedly would have been putting it mildly.

His attention-seeking stomach demanded he take notice of it again by expanding a little faster, almost with a jolt, which made the belt feel even more constricting. He rolled his hips up in the hopes that maybe it would slide a little further down and leave him be, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes it would keep him from making any absolutely mortifying sound in front of his boyfriend--

But he had to open them immediately as a sharp snap made him jolt in surprise: the buckle had been ripped right from the leather, causing his tummy to lurch forward unhindered.

Stupidly, in a moment of fright and confused vulnerability, he dared look sheepishly back at Piers, only to find the same catty smile on him soon followed by a laugh that made his cheeks burst into flames. Curse his love of bite-sized food! And curse his body for being so lean! If his fitted clothes turned too small as soon as he got halfway through a meal, now they might as well have been a skintight latex suit with how much they wrapped around his unruly growing tummy, which, by the way, hadn't stopped its steady process of rounding out almost obscenely even for a single moment.

Now the problem were his pants, the hem digging into his gut. He tried taking long breaths to steady himself and suck it all in, since he wasn't allowed to touch his belly, but even then it just kept getting bigger and bigger until no matter how hard he tried to hold it back, its bump always pressed against the fabric. He could feel the shirt stays struggling and pulling at his thighs when he gave up and let go, the heavy mound rushing back against the shirt's cotton and pushing the pants' button outward even more. The zip began giving in, softly inching downward more and more and more, and he tried so very hard not to whine with how good it felt...

Then pop! The metal button was launched away onto the floor, letting his stomach burst further; not even a minute after and the seams still covering his crotch ripped noisily all the way beneath him, taking with them some adjacent ones too and nearly completely exposing his underwear just in time for the worn band to finally rip beneath the weight of the still expanding belly, tearing the elasticized fabric along with it.

The groan that almost jumped out of his mouth turned choked when he realized nothing was hiding away his enjoyment anymore.

Another chuckle from Piers did not help that.

His last line of defense, his button up shirt and the stays desperately holding onto it for dear life to conceal the embarrassing growth, was starting to come undone as well: the holes strained against the buttons as they were pushed apart, the elastic braces quivered to contain the bulging tummy with all their might - it was only a matter of time before he was left basically naked and heaving on that couch, with a stomach the size of a beach ball forcing him in place, under the piercing mocking gaze of his boyfriend only waiting for him to burst.

The cotton felt suddenly unbearable, making him shift and rock his hips in an antsy manner as he struggled not to whimper at the bubbling and grumbling rising from his distended skin. It was all so tight, so uncomfortable! He found himself taking big breaths to stimulate the growth further, pushing more and twitching his legs to grind against the fabric in a sudden need for stimulation; luckily, he wouldn't have to wait long.

In their ultimate sacrifice the clasps came undone, letting the shirt bunch up, but it was too late: the buttons exploded almost all at once with a loud moan of relief as they were launched across the room. The flaps of ripped apart fabric framed the near perfectly round stomach as it surged triumphantly forward, stiff as they come, still grumbling, still expanding and turning bigger and rounder with each passing moment.

Piers laughed again, clapping as he finally left the kitchen door to swagger his way to his mortified boyfriend, something hanging from his elbow. He playfully pressed his thumb to the pale mouth before dipping it in it just for a moment, just enough to see those lips curl around it paired with such an apologetically shameful look.

"Hope you learned your lesson, love," he drawled with a smirk.

He dangled before the clear eyes an air pump connected to a long plastic hose, the end of which had been blunted as to not hurt the throat it was supposed to go down.

The blush spreading over the other's face betrayed recognition and sentenced him guilty. But how could he...? Oh, he should have known it was a bad idea, recording his inflations for, ahem, science - or at least he shouldn't have been so naive as to leave the untitled virtual folder he stored the videos in on his desktop for anybody to innocently wander inside of when bored!

Piers could read him like a book, and if the way his eyes squinted was any indication, he was having a grand ol' time watching him burn in shame.

And if the look with which he leaned over the huge stomach was any indication...

"Next time you wanna bloat yourself like a balloon," he continued cheekily before the other could finish his thought, "You better let me be your cameraman~"

King avoids sleeping.

drabble, 67 words.

keywords: king & gold, grief/mourning, dreams.

Και αφού έφυγες συνεχίζω και κοιτάω μια συγκεκριμένη θέα.

Διαφορετική απο τις άλλες. Η συγκεκριμένη με πληγώνει και με συγκινεί.

Η θέα των αναμνήσεων μας.

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