Who Likes to Fatten Whom Up?
Tom broke the kiss to ask, "You hungry, Lo?"
"Mmmm, famished," he purred.
"I'll order pizza?"
Loki looked at him, puzzled. "Pizza? What's..."
"Dough with cheese, sauce, and toppings. I'll get supreme,"
"That sounds lovely," the god sighed, removing his armored coat and boots as he sunk to the sofa, exhausted.
***
Loki sat back and burped softly, face reddening. His belly felt full and warm as he absently stroked it, and he was tired. "That was good,"
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You've only had one slice. Surely you're not full,"
"I-*hic*-I am,"
"But you're so thin!"
"Which is why I'm full, Thomas," Loki huffed in agitation.
"C'mon, Lo, please? Just one more slice. For me?"
Loki narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why? Why do you even care?"
Tom cocked his head. "You know, Lo. You know I care. I want you healthier; I want to put some meat on your bones. Doesn't this," he kissed Loki gently, "mean anything to you?"
Loki groaned as he picked up the smallest slice in the box and ate obediently despite the increasing pressure in his stomach. He managed to stuff the rest of the pizza into his bloated tummy and swallowed painfully as it groaned its way into his overly packed gut. "Ooof," he grunted as he heaved himself off the couch. "Are you very happy, Thomas? Look at me," he grumbled looking at his distended middle.
"Quite," Tom smirked. "Come on, let's get you to bed,"
Loki's breathing deepened as sleep took him, Tom's body warm and comforting as he spooned him. As Tom floated towards sleep himself, he smirked as the image of a chubbier Loki ran through his imagination. Now that he'd gotten the god to agree to eat more, it was only a matter of time before the bony form in his arms was wonderfully soft and cushy. Tom could hardly wait.