Chapter 7
Bucky and Steve made out for a little bit while Steve sat on his lap, careful not to jostle his tummy too much. The blond humped his thick leg, and Bucky could feel the wetness through the denim. He could smell it a little, too, sweet and briny. Bucky wasn't sure the flimsy deck chair could hold both their weights if Steve really was going to sit on his face, but he needed a little breaking before getting up to eat. He felt like he'd swallowed a beach ball, if beach balls weighed a hundred pounds. His eyes were heavy lidded, and his senses were dulled with weed and beer, but like a gentleman he wanted to take care of his baby before he went to sleep.
After so much kissing Bucky's lips were swollen and Steve's cheeks were red with beard burn, Bucky patted Steve's thigh and the blond stood. "Alright, I think I can walk now," Bucky belched, clutching his tummy. He stood slowly, rising belly first like a pregnant woman. He felt even more full standing up, gravity pulling on the immense weight of his belly and making it sag. God, it itched. Steve was right about the stretch marks. He could practically feel them forming.
On the way to the bedroom, he saw the scale sitting next to the sofa. He chuckled and pointed at it. "Wanna see how much food I ate?" Steve's expression told him all he needed to know.
He stepped on it, leaning forward to peer over his belly and watching the numbers flash. They settled on 278.
"Jesus fuck, I ate 6 pounds of food," he exclaimed.
"Most of that is probably beer and water," Steve soothed, a hand rubbing circles on Bucky's side. "The sodium in beer probably makes your body retain more water so you don't get dehydrated."
"How do you know so much about this shit?" Bucky asked, stepping down and waddling to the bedroom.
Steve shrugged, burning scarlet. Pervert, Bucky thought happily. He could tell there was something about him eating that keyed up the blond. So he ate some more, trying to show off, and then he noticed Steve staring at his belly, too. But he hadn't been disgusted. More fascinated. So he let the younger man have what he wanted. After all, he was getting excellent head out of it, and delicious food too. A conversation needed to be had, but that was for later. When he wasn't so drunk and high.
He laid down diagonally on the queen-sized bed. It had been shrinking the fatter that he got. As it was, he was too tall for the goddamn thing, and he really needed to upsize to a king. He had no idea how the two of them were going to tetris themselves into a comfortable position, even if Steve was something like half his size.
"You really want me to sit on your face?" Steve asked. "Full weight, actually sit? Will you breathe?"
Bucky nodded, patting his cheeks. "Yep. Done it before. C'mon, baby boy."
Steve took off his shorts, straddling Bucky's head and slowly lowering his sopping cunt onto Bucky's face.
Bucky looked up into it like he was looking into the eye of god. Steve kept his pubic hair trimmed, but not shaved. The golden strands caught the light of the neon of the city outside of the window and painted him like a work of art. Steve's little tdick was swollen and red, begging to be sucked. But it was his vagina that Bucky was looking forward to tasting most of all. Bucky positioned his nose up into the air as Steve lowered, allowing him to lower his clit right into his mouth, while his labia lapped Bucky's beard and chin. Steve immediately whined and started moving, grabbing Bucky's long hair in fistfulls. Bucky took a deep breath through his nose, licking around Steve's clit and tasting the sweet flavor of him. A fresh wave of squirt moistened Bucky's face, and Steve slipped up and down over the surface of it. Bucky knew from experience that the face fucking was more likely to get Steve off than the actual clit sucking, at least from the face-sitting position. Bucky reached up his hands to grab at the lightly furred globes of Steve's ass, feeling the blond rock down onto him. Steve slid up a little, rubbing his tdick onto Bucky's nose. Bucky scooped his tongue in and out of Steve's hole, moving his lips against the pressure. He swirled his tongue against the folds, feeling Steve whimper and moan in the air above him. Steve's thighs started clenching against Bucky's ears, nature's best earplugs, and Bucky could only catch about half of what Steve was rambling on about.
"God… Daddy, you feel so good… yeah, tonguefuck me… I belong to you, Daddy… I'm just your filthy little slut… just your pretty little toy you can use and fuck whenever you want… all my holes are yours, Daddy…"
Bucky growled into his pussy, groping Steve's ass as he ground down harder. More and more squirt was pouring out of Steve's gape, and soon the blond was shuttering and screaming as he came on Bucky's face.
Steve fell to the side, hitting the bed with a huff. Bucky wiped his sopping beard with his hand, knowing he'd need to take a shower if he didn't want crusty squirt in his beard tomorrow.
After a moment of panting, Steve spoke up. "Can I go again?"
Bucky grinned. "Yes, baby, but not on my face. Hump my leg." He scooted up higher in bed, situating himself against the pillows. He spread his legs wide to accommodate for his tummy to sag between them. Steve eagerly hopped up onto his thigh, and although spent, Bucky's cock gave a little jump at his enthusiasm.
Steve's wetness coated Bucky's thigh, and he grabbed onto the brunet's shoulders for stability, humping grinding down onto the chubby appendage. Bucky could feel Steve's little cocklet pulse against his thigh in the heat of the younger man's folds.
Bucky grabbed Steve's hair, wrenching his head to the side, and leaned forward to suck a hickey into his neck. He sucked hard, intending to make a big, dark bruise. He nibbled a little as he pulled away, and Bucky clearly loved it, crying out and motions stuttered as he fucked Bucky's leg.
"Wanna fuck your tummy, Daddy," he whined. "Wanna sit on it and feel how big you are."
"Next time, babydoll," Bucky promised him. "Daddy's too full tonight."
Steve whined at Bucky calling himself Daddy. "Yes, sir," he agreed, and Bucky pulled his head to the other side to give him a hickey there too. It wasn't long before Steve was clutching onto Bucky's shoulders in desperation, and his come was dripping down the sides of Bucky's thigh onto the mattress. He was a supersoaker, that was for sure. He dropped his head down to Bucky's chest, and cried out his name as he came. He collapsed into Bucky, and the brunet held him there, not even minding if the come was drying on his leg.
"Baby, we need to shower," Bucky told Steve after a few minutes of cuddling.
"Don'wanna," Steve whined, voice hazy. Bucky looked down into his eyes to see Steve's were half-lidded, glassy and unfocused.
"Are you in subspace, kiddo?" Bucky asked.
"Hmm?" Was all Steve answered, and Bucky knew the shower would have to wait until tomorrow.
With Steve still clamped onto him like a sloth, Bucky slid down lower in the bed, pulling a blanket over them and petting Steve's hair. He gave Steve a kiss on the forehead. The blond was already asleep, face pillowed against Bucky's fat tits, drooling on his chest.
Bucky fell asleep soon after.
When he woke the next morning (or afternoon, to put it more appropriately), it was to the smell of pancakes, bacon and eggs. He didn't even have bacon and eggs in his apartment. Steve must have snuck back home for supplies and returned before he'd woken up.
He stirred and sat up in bed, adjusting his semi in his boxers and watched Steve for a moment.
The blond was singing along to the radio in a state of afterglow, flipping bacon and hissing as a spat of grease hit his bare chest. He looked like an angel in the glow of the soft afternoon light, his body gleaming golden in a sunbeam. Bucky knew in that moment that he never wanted to spend a single day apart from him, and he would do everything he could to keep Steve by his side. He'd felt something last night, deeper than sex or romantic connection, something he was afraid to put words to because he didn't want it to slip away. He'd lost Steve before, and somehow he'd come back to him, and he wanted to gather the shorter man up in his arms and never let the world take him away.
After a while, Steve caught him staring and laughed. "What?"
Bucky knew he had a dopey smile on his face. "I just can't believe you're here, is all."
Steve's gleeful expression dropped. "Shit. Did you want me to go home, or-"
Bucky cut him off. "Jesus, no. I meant I can't believe you're here, in my life, after all that shit that happened to us. I mean, yesterday you were Steve, and now you're… Steve," he faltered, not wanting to use his deadname. It wasn't that he saw Steve as Steph now. It was more like he'd always seen Steph as Steve, and hadn't been able to describe exactly how it was he saw his former best friend. Now it was all clear. He felt a little like weeping, but he was still half worried he'd scare the blond off.
Steve just smiled at him as he filled up a plate. "Come get your breakfast while it's hot."
Bucky stretched and walked over to the couch, and Steve set the plate on the coffee table and got him a glass of orange juice. He'd given him a stack of five large pancakes, three dippy eggs, four pieces of toast, and half a pound of bacon.
"There's more if you're hungry," Steve told him, sitting beside him with his meager scrambled eggs and toast, no pancakes or bacon.
Bucky was hungry. He was also feeling a little uncharacteristically shy. You were sitting on my face last night. Why do I suddenly find it so hard to look you in the face?
He put the TV on and they ate in silence for a little bit. Then Steve spoke up.
"We should talk."
Bucky nodded. "About… the kink stuff?"
"Sure, we can start with that." Steve probably knew more about that shit than Bucky did, so he let him go on. "You're okay with the… Daddy stuff, and the free-use stuff, and the BDSM?"
Bucky thought that his reaction from last night had been clear enough, but the blond needed reassurance. "Of course."
Steve seemed to puzzle inwardly before a moment before he made up his mind. "How much do you know about… feederism?"
"Is that what it's called, honey?"
Steve flushed a pretty shade of pink. "There's a lot of different aspects to it. There's a lot of different parts of it that I'm into. But feederism is the main category that fits it all, I think. For the record, I loved everything we did last night, but I just wanted to make sure I have your full consent before we do it again."
His speech seemed rehearsed, but it didn't bother Bucky. He thought it was cute that he put so much thought into his words. "Have you ever had this conversation with anyone else before?"
Steve shook his head no. "I wanted to, but we never got that far. That's why it's so important to me that we talk about this now. I want to know where your boundaries are."
Bucky was steadily working through his plate, sopping up the last of the syrup with his pancakes. He was feeling pleasantly full, not stuffed yet. If he'd been alone he probably would've had a little more and then stopped, but with Steve watching the way he was right now, he'd push it a little. Put on a show.
Steve licked his lips, and as Bucky finished the plate, he took it without asking and refilled it, talking over his shoulder as he went to the kitchen and returned. "There's the belly kink, which is harmless enough. I like bellies, I like yours, I want to touch it, and play with it, and as long as you're okay with that I'll keep doing it. Then there's the feeding part. I like cooking, baking, preparing meals and shit. I want to make sure you're being well-fed and I want to take care of you. I think it stems from my food insecurity growing up. Even though I'm okay now, there's a part of me that is still afraid I'm going to go hungry again. And I think it's comforting for me to provide food for my lover."
Bucky let Steve go on, spreading his legs a little wider and continuing on with his second serving. It was sweet how Steve had an emotional reasoning to everything. It was sweet how he'd obviously overthought this a million times and over analyzed the reasons for everything and it was endlessly endearing how he was infodumping it all to Bucky now.
"I feel like that's relatively innocuous enough. But along with the feeding comes stuffing. I want to see you eat until you're full, and then just a little bit more. I want to give you belly rubs and hand feed you extra dessert and pamper you and let you indulge in every pleasure." He screwed his eyes shut, reciting the last part like it pained him. "And then lastly is the weight gain. Where I've had lovers that have been okay with the other components before, none of them have been okay with intentionally gaining weight. And it's not a deal-breaker if you're not, either. I just want to get everything out in the open at once. Intentional weight gain, and everything that comes with it, is really the biggest part of this fetish for me. I know it's asking a lot of you; changing your body, and the health issues that may come along, and being discriminated against by assholes, but if I told you I didn't care if you gained weight or not, I would be dishonest." He took a deep sigh, like a weight had been taken off him. Although Bucky thought it was a little unnecessary to repeat what they both knew, if it gave Steve relief to state the obvious, he was happy to let him.
"How much weight?"
To this, too, Steve had an exact answer. "At least twenty pounds. Maybe as much as a hundred, or a hundred and fifty. Whatever you're comfortable with. It's your body, and I'd never ask to control that. But that's the ideal range."
Somewhere between twenty and a hundred and fifty pounds was an incredibly wide range to work in. Bucky wondered how much Steve was holding back for the sake of politeness. "Would there be a point where you felt like it was too much? Like you wouldn't be attracted to me?"
"Realistically, no. There's no point where it wouldn't be attractive for me. The higher upper limit is completely up to you."
Bucky imagined for a moment, what he would look like in 100 pounds. He'd be morbidly obese at 380 pounds. Twenty more above that and he'd be over double what he was in high school. Another hundred and he'd be a quarter of a ton. He thought of what life would be like at 600, 700 pounds. He wondered if Steve would really be attracted to that.
But then he reasoned if Steve's upper limit was 400, he would have just said that. What he had said was that there was no upper limit.
He'd have to get a bigger apartment.
"I'll want to monitor my health. I'm pretty out of shape now, but I could be better with weightlifting and still manage to put on weight. I don't want to get to the point where I have to change the way I live. But if I'm being honest, I was already stuffing and gaining on accident before you. I'm okay with doing it on purpose."
Steve agreed that of course, it was Bucky's decision, and he could make new rules or change his mind at any point. But he had an expression of barely contained glee, and Bucky felt like he'd given him the most precious gift he could.
Bucky wanted to talk more, to ask about them, their relationship. Are seeing anyone else? Are you going to keep seeing them? Is it too early to call you my boyfriend? Can I post our relationship on Facebook? Do you feel like you've been missing me your whole life? Have you ever written poetry before? Do you want to stay over again tonight? How many times a week do you want to have sex? What do you think about marriage?
But all he said was, "Can I have some more pancakes?"