The Wizard Fartbane ✨️

Day 12

Didi’s first sign that he should be suspicious of his “special treat” was the fact that it involved another visit from Ziggy. 

“What is he doing here?”

“Hello to you too!” Ziggy gave a cheery little wave, then really took in the man in front of him. “Oh, wow.”

Didi was totally laid out on the sofa bed, his stomach so huge that it took more than half of a whole quilt to cover it. While Didi’s chest had done its best to remain defined, it had started to give way to the enchanted stretchiness, making his entire torso more rounded. The grumbling and audible shifting of gas inside of him was now nearly constant – a white noise that Didi was still too embarrassed to tune out. Didi was now so big that he was having a slimming effect on Ziggy, an effort that Didi would’ve never expected reaching in his wildest dreams.

“If you’re going to just stand there gawping, you might as well leave,” Didi muttered.

“Argo said I could help you out,” said Ziggy, taking a seat in Argo’s usual armchair, “and that’s what I’m going to do. As your friend.”

“Can we choose another friend?”

“No, actually,” said Argo. “You’ll see why.”

Argo strode over to Ziggy and held out a document that Didi flinched at the very sight of: his contract. The contract. With his other hand, Argo took a different piece of paper from his pocket. It was smaller, but visibly similar to the contract, obviously made with the same material and written using the same ink. 

“This is an addendum,” said Argo. “It’s going to add a small exception to the deal and allow me to do something that will remove at least a few days’ worth of Didi’s growth.” 

Didi’s eyes opened wide, and immediately, he scrambled to sit up as fast as he could. The pessimist in him warned that it was too good to be true. The rest of him screamed to just shut up and listen.

“Ooh, really?” said Ziggy. “You’re gonna open those floodgates for a little bit?”

“Please don’t call that part of myself ‘floodgates,’” said Didi. 

“Well, not quite,” said Argo. “I didn’t want to change that much of the deal. I can’t, really. Going directly against the core idea would make the whole thing fall apart. No, I can’t let Didi fart at all.”

Didi’s shoulders slumped. He considered flopping back into his previous prone state of despair. 

“So how will this help me?” he asked.

“I can’t let you fart,” said Argo. “But I can transport the gas inside you into someone else and let them do it. As a proxy farter, if you will.”

Hope dawned on Didi at the same time as utter dread. He slowly turned to look at Ziggy, who was realizing the same thing, but with a much different response.

“You mean,” said Ziggy, “I get to fart out… all that?”

Ziggy gestured to Didi’s round form like it was a pyramid of luxury desserts, all just for him.

“Not all of it,” said Argo, giving Ziggy a comforting pat on the shoulder. “I’m strong enough to move only some of it, and for only a small amount of time. But it’ll still be a wind-breaking for the ages, don’t you worry about that.”

“Hold on,” said Didi. “You’re going to make him wind-break for the ages… in here? In our apartment?”

“I didn’t want to move you too much in your state. Besides, we know Ziggy is more than comfortable farting here.”

Ziggy gave a wicked little giggle. “You bet I am.” 

Ziggy slowly started to raise a leg, but Argo and Didi both raised their arms and called for him to stop.

“Trust me,” Argo added, “you’ll be doing more than that in a minute. But first…” He held out the addendum and a pen. “Sign here.”

With a happy flourish, Ziggy signed. Argo took the addendum, held it to the bottom of the contract, and concentrated. In a flash, the two papers combined with each other, forming one large document. Argo smiled, folded it up neatly, and stashed it in one of his pockets.

“All right. Now, I just need another little boost to help me do this as much as possible.”

Argo made a quick trip to the dining room table and back. When he returned, he had Mazika’s spare chaos jar in his hand. Even two days later, the gas shifted with the same frantic energy and shone with the same glorious vibrancy.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to open that,” said Didi.

Ignoring the remark, Argo held the jar close to his face, closed his eyes, and concentrated yet again. His brow furrowed, and he even grunted a little in exertion. The little tricks Argo was able to do in a snap just a couple weeks ago were now arduous. Didi couldn’t blame the imp for needing a boost for a much larger task.

Finally, a small, nostril-sized hole appeared in the lid. The moment it appeared, Argo covered it with his right nostril and took a huge sniff, his eyes rolling back in his head. He put the jar down, the hole resealing instantly. When he opened his eyes again, he looked ready to punch a hole through a wall. When Argo turned to Ziggy, the latter flinched.

“Get your ass ready.”

Ziggy sat back a little nervously as Argo rested both of his hands on Ziggy’s stomach. Slowly, softly, the imp’s hands began to glow.

“That tickles,” Ziggy chuckled.

Argo’s brow furrowed again, and the same glow appeared within his eyes. Both sources of light grew brighter with each passing second. 

A small, tight knot tugged itself into existence deep within Didi. He flinched; the sensation didn’t hurt, but it was so far removed from his normal gas-induced feelings that he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Ah!” Ziggy exclaimed. “That.. that’s tight…”

By now, Ziggy’s stomach was steadily glowing from the inside out. At first, it looked like Argo was starting to slowly move his hands away, but then Didi realized that it was the surface of Ziggy’s stomach that was moving. Ziggy’s hands clutched the arms of his chair, his nails sinking deep into the upholstery, as his gut began to bloat further than Didi had seen.

“Argo,” Didi said carefully, “you are casting the pain-relieving spell on him too, right?”

Without turning around, Argo muttered, “He doesn’t need it.”

“But…” Ziggy continued to squirm, his face twisting in pain. “But it, it-”

The relative silence of the room was shattered by a deep, muffled trumpeting. Didi had – unfortunately – heard Ziggy’s farts many times before. They could get loud. Complain-from-the-other-room-through-a-closed-door loud. This one was even louder.

Ziggy let out a groan that was absolutely pornographic.

“Oh, god,” he panted. “Oh, thank god.”

Argo hissed but didn’t stop his work. “Quit using the g-word. It’s breaking my concentration.”

Ziggy bit his lower lip and kept groaning as the gale of flatulence kept flapping into the chair’s cushions. After about ten full seconds, Didi was hit by two things. The first was the realization that the fart was remaining continuous; this fart was neither slowing nor stopping, even as it maintained its strength and volume.

The second was the smell. 

Didi cursed and hurriedly pulled a portion of his shirt over his nose. Ziggy’s farts weren’t normally room-clearers, but their smell was distinctive. If he passed gas, there was no mistaking it for anything else and often no disguising it, unless you happened to be in the middle of the most heavily perfumed aisle of a department store – and even then, Ziggy could overpower that with enough preparation and willpower. Now, that distinctive smell was being let out in large enough clouds to fill the whole apartment, and Didi thought he would choke.

Ziggy didn’t look like he noticed the growing smell. He didn’t look like he was noticing much at all.

“There’s so… much…”

While part of Ziggy’s facial expression was still strained, he was also smiling, panting with relief. Slowly, he shifted to lift his ass half-off the chair, and his roaring fart grew even louder without the obstruction. 

“Don’t move too much!” Argo adjusted his glowing grip on Ziggy’s stomach, which had stopped growing at the same time Ziggy started farting. “I need to touch you.”

Ziggy didn’t even acknowledge Argo. He kept staring into space, moaning and sighing as his butt released enough natural gas to power the whole building. At one point, he looked like he was about to say something, but then a belch sputtered past his lips and kept going, forming a spine-shuddering gaseous stereo. 

As Didi continued trying to smell the inside of his own shirt and not Ziggy’s ass, a cold thought began to form. The gas smelled like Ziggy’s gas. As much as he hated to admit recognizing the scent, he couldn’t deny it. What if Argo had lied? What if Ziggy wasn’t farting out Didi’s gas? What if – 

Didi snapped out of it when he noticed a new sensation occurring throughout his body. It felt so different from what he had been experiencing for the past twelve days. It was like a stretch, but inwards. Didi slipped his hand into the waistband of his pants and realized that it was a fraction less tight than it was before. His arm was also moving less stiffly; there was a bit less air inside to stretch it out in an unfathomable way.

He was deflating. This was working. Didi watched Ziggy break enough wind for a hurricane and, for the first time in his life, hoped that he wouldn’t stop.

It was as if the universe heard Didi’s desire and thought, “No, that won’t do. Let’s make him want it to stop again.”

Without ever decreasing the power of the gas coming out of both his ends, Ziggy suddenly reached down into his lap. He had to maneuver his arm around Argo’s outstretched hands to do this, but he finally found what he was looking for. Didi’s face grew pale when he saw that that what Ziggy had been looking for was his cock.

“Oh, really?” said Didi.

Ziggy didn’t heed Didi’s remark. He probably couldn’t hear it. Together, the noise of his belching and farting was as overpowering as construction.

After some fumbling through his pants and boxers, Ziggy’s cock popped out, already eagerly drooling. Once Ziggy gripped himself, whatever hold he had left on his self-control was instantly surrendered.

From the depths of his spell, Argo started grunting through gritted teeth. Either he was struggling to continue the spell, or he was getting distracted by the jerking-off that was happening less than three feet from his face. It was probably both. 

“Come on,” Argo breathed. “Just a bit more.”

Something about the movement of his jerking off was affecting the rest of Ziggy’s muscles; his ceaseless farting gained a slightly staccato rhythm, timed exactly with the pumping of his hand. His belching dipped and raised in pitch, and Didi realized that Ziggy was moaning through the burps. It was disgusting. It was sickening. Didi had never been more repulsed in his life.

And yet, even as he felt himself mercifully shrink, Didi couldn’t help but imagine how much better Ziggy must’ve been feeling than Didi was now. 

The infernal glow flickered. Argo gasped, then squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the spell back to life. 

“Argo?” said Didi. “Are you all right?”

“Just… keeping it open…”

“Do you need to stop?”

There was another flicker. Argo let out a groan, long and strained. When the glow returned, it was accompanied by the occasional whimper.

“I can do it… just a little bit more…”

Didi’s hands went to his stomach. He could feel his skin contracting as he grew smaller. He didn’t want it to stop. Hell, even with all the growth he’d lost, he knew he’d gain it all back long before the month was up. He would put up with as much mega-flatulence from Ziggy as he’d need to – and God, what a horrifying thought that was – if that meant being allowed to start from zero again. 

But not at a risk to Argo. Even if he did like bloating Didi up like a beach ball. In fact, Didi realized, as much as Argo cared for him, this was technically going against the imp’s interests. Why was he so dedicated to lasting for just a few moments longer?

Perhaps sensing that the end was fast approaching, Ziggy raised his ass even further from the chair, fully raising one of his legs. It seemed impossible for the rush of gas to get any louder, any larger, but Ziggy obviously felt the fraction of difference. His hand worked faster, faster, until finally, something else was shooting out of his body.

As cum painted the front of Argo’s shirt, the imp let out a sharp cry and, with one final flash, was shoved back from the chair, his hands finally leaving Ziggy’s stomach. 

The glow vanished entirely. That strange inner knot inside Didi disappeared, and his shrinking stopped. The bad news was that he was still much too large for comfort. However, after a short inspection, Didi determined that he had lost about five days’ worth of growth, which wasn’t nothing. Hell, he could have even been convinced to go out in public, at least for a nighttime stroll away from his usual haunts. As long as he was smart about the rest of the month, this was still a success. 

Didi’s shirt fell from his nose. He got a full whiff of the cost of that success.

“Oh, Jesus.” 

Didi glared at the sweaty, panting mess that was still lounging in the armchair, his dick limply poking out from his clothes, and who was still farting, although the burping had stopped at some point. Didi wondered how much longer his gratitude would last before he started making an argument for a restraining order.

Finally, after a few seconds more, the fart tapered off. Ziggy breathed in deeply through his nose and sighed.

“That,” he said, “was awesome.”

“I am never letting you do that again,” said Didi. “Dammit, the room feels warmer now. How can you stand breathing this in?”

Ziggy took another deep sniff of the air. “Reminds me of ducking under the covers after I let one rip on a cold day.”

Didi glared at Ziggy, who had started lazily caressing his chest with one hand. “How do you have a girlfriend?”

“People love the butt, man.” Ziggy gave the side of his ass a tired spank. It answered with a short quack, making Ziggy wince. “Oof, hole kinda hurts now.”

“How can you still fart after all that?”

“It’s just the leftovers. I don’t need to fart.”

Ziggy shifted in the chair and left out a quick BRRBBLRT.

“I just want to.”

“I’m glad you ruined Argo’s chair and not…”

Didi and Ziggy stared at each other before they both got to their feet. 

“Argo!” Didi’s body was still large enough for it to get in his way, but he did his best to kneel next to Argo’s prone body. “Argo, are you all right?”

“Hey, Gogo, look at me, man.” 

Ziggy leant over and gently turned Argo’s head. The imp’s eyes were shut, and his face was pale. However, there was a steady rise and fall to his chest that was familiar enough for Didi’s comfort.

“He’s passed out,” said Didi. “I think he’ll be fine after some rest.” 

“Are you sure?” said Ziggy.

“I’ve seen how casting strong spells can affect him. I’ll keep an eye on him. If he’s not better soon, I’ll get help.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Didi looked once more at Ziggy’s exposed cock.

“You can leave and not come back until I’m less disgusted by you.”

“OK. I can do that.” 

Ziggy nodded firmly and got up. A fart loudly slipped from him during a mid-squat position. 

“Oops, sorry.”

Argo stirred in his sleep. Didi hoped that he was only starting to snore and not intentionally breathing the air in deeper.

“Wait,” he called out.

Day 5

Despite what people on the street typically assumed when they saw Didi’s new bulk, he hadn’t gained much weight during the past few days. He had gained some weight; even gas had mass, and Didi suspected that the magical expansion of his body was adding more mass as needed so that he wouldn’t literally get stretched too thin. A few experiments on his bathroom scale (with some gleeful help from Argo; Didi stopped being able to see his own toes, much less the scale’s readout) showed that the weight gain was minimal. It was at least far less than the multitude of pounds Didi would’ve been carrying if his inflated figure actually had fat behind it.  

That didn’t make getting up and moving any easier, though. When the doorbell started ringing – and kept ringing – Didi swore when he got up from the couch, his overfilled beach ball of a gut swaying as he stood.

“Co-” Didi’s call slipped into a burp, which he bitterly bit off. “Coming.”

Once he had completed his short walk – Didi ignored the fact that it was turning into more of a waddle – to the door, he took a moment to glare at it. Obviously, since the visitor hadn’t buzzed in through the intercom, they were either let in by someone else or already a resident. Didi wasn’t expecting a package, nor a visitor, and the only neighbor he had who was prone to making house calls was…

“Oh no.”

Didi leaned as close to the peephole as he could (cursing his obstacle of a stomach) and saw a big, dopey smile.

“Oh no.”

From behind the door, a cheery voice sang “I can hear you!”

Crap. Didi stuttered, dragged his hand down his face, and settled on, “I’m not feeling well! Goodbye!”

“That’s why I’m here! C’moooon, let me in!”

Didi had already started walking back to his sulking couch. That was his first mistake; he soon heard the dreaded click of his door unlocking.

Didi knew that Argo was too tired to teleport, so he had no clue how the imp had appeared to greet their guest so suddenly. It was a good thing their neighbor already knew about Argo’s devilish little secret, as Argo didn’t even have the energy to manifest his human disguise.

“Come right in, Ziggy!” Argo held out a hand to welcome him, the little shit. 

And here came Ziggy himself, the big lug. He was a little taller than average, but the “big” came from his huge, home-grown stomach, and with an ass to boot. Before Didi’s stupid deal, Ziggy certainly could have claimed the title of the apartment building’s largest guest. The only thing larger – and, for Didi, more insufferable – than Ziggy’s body was his sentimentality. 

“Thank you, Gogo,” Ziggy chirped. He walked in and took off his shoes. Didi was too pissed off to appreciate the good manners, although he could always find reasons to be irritated about Ziggy’s presence. “Hiya, Didi!”

Didi was only willing to mutter a “Siegfried” in return.

“Gosh, Gogo, what happened to you? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus. A hell bus.” He mimed a steering wheel and a horn. “Beep beep.”

Argo’s grin grew weaker. “Oh. Just, um.” He rubbed his temple, as if he had a migraine. Hell, that might’ve been real. “Been working hard. You know?”

“Working? You? Are times that hard?” Ziggy held out his big arms. “C’mon, bring it in.”

“Don’t you dare – ” Didi began.

But it was no use. Argo let himself be enveloped in a hug that could’ve won national prizes. Most people (who weren’t Didi) agreed that Ziggy was the master of the bear hug. Argo grinned at Didi over Ziggy’s shoulder, then squeezed Ziggy’s midsection with the rest of his remaining strength.    

BrrrRRRRBRRrrrRRRRBT

Like always, Ziggy had to show he didn’t just have an ass that didn’t quit, but a stomach as well. And like always, despite his best efforts, Didi had to be standing behind him when it happened.

“Fuck!” Didi stumbled out of the way of the thick, brassy fart that rumbled from those overloaded cheeks. 

Ziggy let out a satisfied sigh and a couple short blasts before he broke away from the hug. “Sorry, but you know a hug ain’t a hug unless it squeezes the farts out of you. And your boyfriend is a good hugger.”

“Oh, you,” said Argo, with an appropriately limp-wristed little wave. 

“And by the looks of things,” Ziggy said, fully turning to Didi, “it seems like you’re in need of a hug most of all.”

“What? Wait. No, no, no, no – ”

Ziggy might have been big, but boy, could he be fast. Didi was instantly scooped up in those big, strong arms and given a firm squeeze. He wasn’t a hugger at the best of times, but now… oh God, all his synapses flooded with confusion and panic. Instead of his organs getting squished, Ziggy was compressing all the air that Didi had accumulated. Didi belched for a second, but that was the end of his relief allotment for the day. With nowhere to go, the remaining air bulged around his body and put pressure in all sorts of places. Even without pain, even knowing that he was capable of stretching so much larger, Didi’s subconscious screamed at him that at any moment, he was going to burst.

“Stop, stop, stop!”

More air was the last thing Didi needed, but he still found himself gulping it in once he was released. What the fuck was that about? He couldn’t remember the last time something like blind terror had struck his heart like that. As for encounters with Ziggy, that was somehow almost worse than the time Ziggy drunkenly sat on top of him and violated him with sleep farts for an hour.

“Gee, I’m sorry.” To his credit, Ziggy was sincerely repentant. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Why. Are you here.”

“I saw you across the street yesterday and was surprised by your… you know.”

Ziggy did a little “all of this” gesture over Didi’s body.

“I know I hadn’t seen you in a week,” he continued, “but that’s not long enough for this to all be weight. No, I know a bad bloat when I see one, and I knew I needed to come to the rescue.”

The sofa dipped and groaned as Ziggy took a seat and began rummaging through a tote bag that Didi only now realized had been slung over his shoulder the whole time.

“Really? This just looks like a bad bloat to you?”

“You’re a mad scientist and your boyfriend’s a demon. Anything is possible.”

“Mad scientist? Why do you think I’m –” 

“I brought all my best bloat remedies.” Ziggy pulled a box of tea out of his bag. “This is my favorite tummy tea. Ginger, chamomile, and mint combined are the most soothing way to get farts flowing.” He took out a much slimmer cardboard box that rattled as it moved. “These are some gas pills if the buildup’s really stubborn. Not as nice as drinking tea, but they do the trick.” He lifted another box of tablets. “I know milk can upset you, so I found some lactase enzyme pills in my kitchen. Someone gave them to me a few months ago, but I didn’t have the heart to tell them I wasn’t lactose intolerant; everything just makes me fart.” Finally, he lifted up a little booklet with what appeared to be stick figures. “And this was supposed to be your guys’ anniversary present: an illustrated guide to gas-relieving poses! Look, I even drew your faces on the example guys.”

Argo walked over and squinted at an exposed page. “Is that pose from the Kama Sutra?”

“Some of them are. Like I said, this was supposed to be an anniversary present.” Ziggy looked up at Didi with a troublingly eager look. “And, of course, there’s always massage.”

The sight of Ziggy making little grabby motions with his hands was the last straw.

“OK!” Didi went to the front door so quickly that not even his bloat waddle slowed him down. “Thank you very much. The gesture is appreciated, but unneeded. Feel free to take it all back, book included. Please leave.”

Ziggy watched Didi open the door and point outwards with the saddest puppy-eyes.  

“But you’re hurting.”

“I’ll be better after some rest,” said Didi. “And privacy.”

“Didi, I know you’re a private guy, but that!” Again, Ziggy gestured to the new wonder-of-the-world-in-progress that was Didi’s bloat. “The only reason I’m not doubled over with cramps every day is because I fart whenever I need to! You must be in agony. You gotta let it out.” 

“Don’t you think I want to…” Didi sputtered to a halt and changed tactics. “I’m not… that is… you don’t have to worry about…” 

Didi groaned and shut the door. “You know what? Fine.” He turned to Argo. “I don’t suppose there’s anything in the contract against telling people?”

The imp shook his head, then reached out to gently take one of Ziggy’s hands. “Here’s what’s been going on…”

*

One fetishistic explanation later…

“Woah.”

Ziggy stared off into space, his hands cupped around a mug of tea. Desperate for an excuse to leave the room and not be reminded of the whole story behind his current ordeal, Didi had made everybody some of the “tummy tea,” even himself. Despite the tea being unable to do its job for him, Didi had to admit that it at least tasted nice. 

Finally, Ziggy squinted at Didi, who was sitting across from him in his own armchair, despite it being more cramped than the sofa. As grateful as Didi was for the tea, he was not in the mood to sit on the same piece of furniture as a man who could vibrate an entire bed with what came out of his ass.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“I know, I should’ve expected a catch, I just – ”

“Farting,” Ziggy continued, “is one of life’s pleasures. Taking it away for a whole month… that’s madness.”

Didi gave up and drank more of his tea.

“I’d like to say I’ve been teaching him a lesson,” said Argo, “but I’ve also put myself in way over my head. I’ve been so tired maintaining everything that I keep forgetting I’m not dreaming. No joke, when you first arrived, I was eager to let you in because I thought this was a wet dream and you were here to smother me in your ass.”

Didi choked on his last sip of tea. “Ahem.”

“While you watched,” Argo added, as if that solved anything.

“Aw, flatterer,” said Ziggy. “But gosh, I’m so sorry for both of you. Listen, if there’s anything I can do to help you guys during all this, you just give me a call, OK?”

Something flashed behind Argo’s eyes. “You know, I just might do that.”

“What?” Didi couldn’t afford to trust that look anymore. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing, dear. I’d need to check if it’s possible, anyway.” Argo winked at Ziggy. “You’ll know when I’ve figured it out.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Ziggy got to his feet. “Thanks for having me, but I better get – ooh.”

A long gurgle came from the depths of Ziggy’s stomach. Didi had listened to too many of those noises recently to not know what it meant, but he didn’t know what to do about it; it would take him at least half a minute to get up and leave the room.

“Oh, that tea’s really working.”

“Don’t you dare point that thing at me!” Didi blurted out.

“Noted,” Ziggy said with a grin.

Ziggy swung his large ass around, aiming it squarely at Argo, who was lounging in such a way for his head to be at precise ass-height. Didi had enough time to wonder if Argo had always been sitting that way before the air was filled with the sounds and smells of Ziggy’s vegetarian lifestyle.

fffFFRRrrrRRBBBBRRT! BrrRRRT-BBRRRRrrrrAAARRRT!

Argo leaned so closely toward the source of the farts that a few curls of his dark hair waved in the breeze. His mouth was open, for God’s sake, savoring the experience, and yet Didi was the one who started coughing. He hated that he could tell Ziggy must have eaten a big, tomato-heavy stew recently; he wouldn’t be able to think about eating something like that for weeks. He definitely didn’t appreciate that his boyfriend was only inches away from plunging his face into another man’s ass (he knew Argo wouldn’t cheat on him, nor would Ziggy allow it to happen; it was the principle of the thing that bothered him).

But most of all, Didi resented that this brazen cheek-flapping made him jealous. At that moment, he would have given anything to fart louder, longer, and more pungently than Ziggy ever could, just so that he could return to even half the size he was now.

With his tea-fueled gas at an end, Ziggy let out a low, contented sigh.

“One of life’s pleasures.”

“It’s definitely one of mine,” said Argo.

Ziggy finally noticed Didi glaring daggers at him. “Sorry, Didi. Guess I should’ve asked. Are we cool?”

Didi opened his mouth to say that wasn’t even what he was angry about, but then something caught his eye. “We might’ve been if you hadn’t gotten hard from it.”

Ziggy looked down with a little blush. “Oops. If it makes you feel better, that’s not because I farted on your boyfriend specifically. That’s just from my fetish.”

“Get out.”

“Will do.”

Ziggy cheerfully, if awkwardly, exited the apartment.

“Bye, guys!” he called out behind him. “Good luck with your no farting!”

Once the door closed, Argo slipped a hand in his pants.

“You mind if I jerk off to that?”

“I would, actually.”

“Eh, I’m still doing it.”

Didi rolled his eyes. Again, he wasn’t truly upset by everything that happened regarding his boyfriend’s horniness – Didi’s personal relationships were so fucking weird now – but he definitely needed a little alone time to recover from it.

“I’m going to lay down somewhere that doesn’t smell like ass.”

“Still smells better than what you put out.”

“If you love his farts so much, then remember to undo the spell before you leave me for him.” Didi said this flippantly, not meaning a word of it, but it still came out a little harsh.

Argo smiled sweetly at Didi, even with his fingers hard at work on himself. “I didn’t say I like his more than yours.”