A Fight (Made Up With Sexy Times and/or Food)
"No!" Loki pouted, folding his arms across his chest. "I said Italian, Thomas, not fish and chips!"
"You said dinner," the mortal corrected gently.
"I meant this morning, you prat. This morning, I said I wanted Italian for dinner," he huffed. "You never listen to me anymore,"
"Well, maybe that's because you're always talking!"
"Oh! Oh, so now I'm not allowed to talk anymore?!? Why don't you call Odin and ask if you can use the muzzle?"
"I didn't know that was an option, what's his number?!" Tom shrieked, grabbing his keys and leaving the flat, slamming the door angrily behind him. Loki threw himself to the couch, screamed into a pillow in frustration, then began to cry.
***
Tom raked his hands through his hair in frustration. Fuck, Loki had been moody these last few weeks, he thought as he walked to the restaurant. It was a bit of a hike, but he needed the air to clear his head.
He ordered fettuccine alfredo, a loaf of garlic bread drenched in melted butter and smothered in cheese, and a hearty chicken parm. He hailed a cab on the way home, not wanting Loki's dinner to get cold. The god didn't look at him when he walked in the door, but regarded the bags of food with interest. "Where's the fish and chips?" Tom asked, noticing the unwanted meal was missing. Loki patted his belly and burped proudly. Tom shook his head and retreated to the kitchen without a word. Task complete an hour later, he went to check on Loki.
The god was leaning back, pants undone, shirt riding up, hands resting on his bloated belly, butter running down his chin. "Th-*hic*-ank you," he said massaging his big, rounded tummy as he burped loudly.
"Better?" Tom asked, bending down to rub firm, soothing circles into the warm, pink chub.
Loki squirmed slightly at the pressure on his swollen stomach, but sighed in relief as he burped again. "Yes. I'm sorry I was a brat,"
"And I'm sorry I was a dick," he admitted. "But I've got a surprise for you,"
Loki's eyes lit up. "What?"
"Close your eyes,"
Loki obliged and Tom went to the kitchen and returned with a serving bowl filled with chocolate pudding, which he placed on Loki's distended gut. The god opened his eyes, then widened them as Tom handed him a spoon. "Fank you!" he replied, chubby cheeks full of the cool, creamy treat.
"You're welcome, baby,"
***
Once Loki was full to bursting with heavy Italian food, greasy fish and chips, and rich chocolate pudding, Tom scraped the stray bits of chocolate from the bowl and smeared it over Loki's tummy, pooling it in his belly button. "Mmm, that feels good, Tom. My belly's so hot,"
"It's working extra hard to digest that gorge, darling," he hummed, licking the pudding from Loki's taut flesh as the god wriggled beneath him, leaving his belly button for last. Loki pedaled his feet against the sofa cushions as Tom's tongue invaded the sensitive nub, exploring its depths and squishing the pudding around, teasing his god.
"Oh, god, that feels amazing!" Loki squirmed, putting his hand behind Tom's head and pushing his face further into his fat tummy. Tom blew a raspberry, throwing Loki into a fit of giggles at the sensation against his sensitive flesh.
"I'm sorry, Lo, I should've listened. You forgive me?"
"Mmmm," Loki murmured sleepily, completely sated. "Forgive me?"
"Always," he replied, laying a gentle kiss to the swell of Loki's overly full belly.