Chapter 12
Steve's alarm woke him up at 5 am, four hours or so after they'd fallen asleep. He turned it off before it disturbed Bucky, and went down to the kitchen to make his milkshake. They were starting day 3, almost halfway done. Steve never wanted the week to end. At the same time, he felt bad for what he was doing to Bucky. He knew it was consensual. He knew Bucky would safeword out if Steve truly offered him too much food, but he hadn't yet.
He blended ice, whole milk, peanut butter, and vanilla ice cream, making a double portion and bringing it upstairs to Bucky. He woke the heavier man with a hand on his shoulder. This time he was less surprised, waking and wordlessly accepting the glass. He drained it all in one go, sleepily thrusting it back in Steve's direction.
"Liked that flavor," he muttered as he drifted back to sleep.
It took Steve longer to fall back asleep, too horny. He got himself off quickly and drifted off.
He woke before Bucky again, preparing breakfast. Today it was waffles. Just the frozen kind, because he didn't really feel like bringing batter and a waffle machine from home. He'd seen Bucky polish off 4 before, easy, so he toasted 8 and drenched them liberally in syrup and butter. He added bacon for flavor, and made another peanut butter milkshake, since Bucky liked the last one. He balanced it all on a tray and carefully climbed the spiral staircase to see Bucky weighing himself for the morning. He placed the tray on the bed, and peered around the bathroom wall to look at the scale.
"319.6," he whistled. He'd already gained almost ten pounds. They'd hit 330 before the end of the week, for sure. "Color?"
"Green," Bucky replied, pulling Steve in for a hug after he'd stepped off the scale.
"Stinky," Steve sang at him, getting a whiff of his body odor.
"Thought you liked that kind of thing," Bucky joked with a grin, lifting his arm and trying to put his pits in Steve's face
Steve ducked and shoved Bucky's shoulder lightly, although the bigger man didn't move at all. "Not that smelly. Take a shower, then breakfast."
Bucky complied, hopping in the shower and humming. Steve sat on the closed toilet while he did, feeling clingy. "How green? Yellowish green or green green?"
"So green it's blue," Bucky responded from under the spray. "I knew what I was getting into. I'd tell you if it's too much, honey." That made Steve feel a little better. "I feel better today. My cramps are gone, and I might still be bloated, but I'm feeling hungry. Ready to take on the day."
"We can stop at any point," Steve reminded him, handing him a towel once he emerged. He really did look big, fat and wide all over. He didn't look like he'd gotten much fatter in the last two days, just like someone had pumped his belly full of air like a balloon. It was almost perfectly round, sagging just a little lower than before, new stretch marks joining the other ones around his navel.
"You saying you don't think I can do this?" Bucky challenged, strategically standing directly in front of Steve so he was looking straight at his enormous belly.
He reached out to fondle it, and it was so much softer than he expected, jiggly and warm. The bottom of it was beginning to be dimpled with cellulite. "'Course not," Steve started, rising to the jab. "But there's nothing wrong with quitting if you have to."
Bucky grabbed his head and pulled it into his belly. Steve slotted his nose into the taller man's belly button, allowing himself to be smothered.
"Play dominant if you want to. But don't forget who's in charge," Bucky ordered.
"Yessir," Steve mumbled into his belly.
Bucky turned and got himself arranged back into bed, patting his lap. "I want you to feed me this morning."
Steve was all too enthusiastic to obey. He didn't worry about the mess, sloppily cutting large chunks of waffles and letting the syrup drip over Bucky's naked belly.
"C'mon, I just showered," Bucky complained, and Steve shut him up by shoving waffles into his mouth. The grey-eyed man shot him a look but didn't say anything, just chewed, swallowed, and opened his mouth again. Steve alternated between waffles, bacon, and the milkshake, not slowing in pace. As Bucky neared the last waffle, he began to pant, the heavy curve of his gut heaving. His pecs were pushed up higher on his chest, making them look fatter than they really were. Or maybe they were getting that fat. Steve felt like he was watching the calories turn into fat in real time, in an observable way. Bucky swallowed and tried to take a moment to breath, but Steve already had the next bite of waffles ready. He tapped on Bucky's lips, and Bucky huffed a gasp and opened his mouth. Before he even closed his lips, Steve held up the milkshake for Bucky to take a sip. He tipped his head and allowed Steve to pour some into his mouth, chewing while he swallowed. Before he opened his mouth again, Steve held bacon to his lips, keeping up the same pace.
"Slow down," Bucky told him, but Steve didn't. He kept shoveling waffles into his mouth at the same speed until they were gone.
Bucky's face was red with exertion and lightly perspiring, like he'd worked out and not just eaten a shit ton of food. The milkshake was the most calorific of all, bringing his breakfast total to 3500 calories, already enough to add a pound of fat to his bulging waistline before they'd even made it halfway through the day. Steve tipped the milkshake, ignoring Bucky's grunts until the older man had swallowed the last drop.
"Need some water," Bucky gasped, but Steve shook his head.
"Milk or soda," he told him. He didn't want to waste precious gut space on something with no calories.
"Yellow," Bucky told him. "I need water."
Steve immediately got him a glass. Bucky sipped on it, groaning and clutching his belly. "Fuck, Steve. I feel so fat."
"Are you okay?"
Bucky nodded. "Need a nap though. Ugh."
He fell asleep almost in a sitting position. Steve skipped the boost for between breakfast and lunch, seeing as how he'd already had two milkshakes.
He prepared lunch while Bucky napped. Today, it was a frozen pizza. He'd had other plans, but because of how full Bucky had been from breakfast, he figured he'd take it easy on him. Frozen pizzas were smaller than delivery, and Steve had seen Bucky finish those by himself on plenty occasions. Sure, he hadn't stuffed himself to the brim only hours before on those occasions, but Steve had confidence he'd finish it. He brought another 2 liter upstairs, and an hour later Bucky woke up.
Steve handed him the plate with the supreme pizza. He hadn't even bothered to cut it, hammering home how much food Bucky was consuming by doing away with regular portion sizes entirely.
Bucky accepted the plate, setting it on top of the full curve of his gut, so wide it supported the plate like a shelf. He was thirsty, drinking almost half of the pepsi before even starting on the pizza. Steve could see the carbonation bloat him, line between his chest and belly creasing further.
"Blow me while I eat," Bucky commanded.
Steve missed the opportunity to watch him eat the pizza, but he soon discovered that in this exact position, Bucky's belly rested further than it ever had before, sitting firmly against Steve's forehead as he blew him. His thighs seemed fatter too, crowding Steve out in the best way. He sucked his dick slowly, unrushed, letting Bucky finish his pizza. It took him over an hour, but Steve didn't mind. He'd blown him for two hours before. He drifted close to subspace, feeling so comfortable and protected and loved. Bucky was doing this all for him, getting so, so fat for him.
Bucky finished the pizza and set the plate aside. Steve opened his eyes to look at the massive swell of fat above him, firm and taught and so big he couldn't see anything. He grabbed Steve's hair- with some difficulty, Steve noted with delight- and set the motion faster, choking Steve with his cock. He didn't buck his hips up into his mouth, lazily beached beneath the weight of his gut while Steve sucked. Steve wondered if Bucky would develop a fetish eventually, associating food with orgasming so often.
He came into Steve's mouth, and Steve reluctantly sat up and patted his full tummy. New stretch marks had developed before their eyes, closer to his chunky hips, which spread out further on the mattress than they had the day before.
"You take such good care of me," Bucky said, voice husky and eyes heavy-lidded.
"I love you," Steve told him simply. He knew he didn't say it enough.
They cuddled until dinner. Steve could have probably tried to shove another boost or milkshake into him, but today was the first day they were meeting Steve's calorie goals, so he gave Bucky a little break.
Once Bucky's belly had some more room in it, Steve went back downstairs to prepare the last meal of the day. Clint came to the door, asking if they wanted to go hiking with them.
"Some other time," Steve promised.
Clint wiggled his eyebrows. "Have fun!" he called as he retreated back down the path to where the others waved at Steve. He waved back and shut the door, making sure all the curtains were drawn on the large windows that faced the lake.
He liked Clint. He was odd, a little inappropriate at times, but Steve appreciated people without a filter. He liked everyone in the group, even Yelena. She resembled Nat in her flat affectless tone.
Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs with the last of the cakeshake for dessert. Pasta was an easy way to load calories without taking up too much space, and it was easy for Steve to melt two full sticks of butter into the sauce to bump up the fat. He shook out a healthy layer of parmesan onto the bowl of pasta, and brought it upstairs to Bucky.
He looked like he'd swallowed a beach ball. His stomach capacity had increased so drastically since two days ago that he'd certainly have an increased appetite even after the week was over, likely to blow past their goal. Steve didn't mind one bit.
Bucky reached out for the bowl enthusiastically. He loved pasta. "Any bread?" he asked.
Steve hadn't thought of that. "Of course!" He liberally buttered four slices and brought them back up in a moment. Bucky was eating heartily like he hadn't already eaten three times the recommended amount. The slippery noodles disappeared into his greedy mouth as he raised the forkfuls. Steve had dumped an entire pack of meatballs into the bowl, and Bucky ate them all one after the other. He put two slices of the buttered bread butter-side facing each other and ate it like a butter sandwich, carbs on carbs. He ate with enthusiasm, drinking the cakeshake like it was a supplementary beverage and not four servings of fattening cake and ice cream blended together. Steve didn't expect them to hit his 10000 calorie goal so quickly; he actually wasn't sure how he was going to escalate it tomorrow.
But eating so swiftly caught up with Bucky. He'd no sooner finished slurping up the last noodle and drinking the last drop of the cake shake before he was rubbing soothing circles into his tummy. It was so round and hard that it looked like it wasn't really connected to him, just a tan orb sitting in his lap. Bucky hiccuped and groaned at the way it jostled his belly. He looked so fat, so wide and decadent. It was no wonder Steve hadn't recognized him from childhood. His beard was getting long, and Steve kind of wanted to see if he would shave it completely, to see how fat his double chin was getting.
"You did it," Steve gasped in awe. "10,000 calories."
"God, it fucking feels like it," Bucky complained. "Feel like I'm gonna burst, Stevie."
Steve got some lotion and rubbed it into his belly to help with stretchmarks. And just to feel him up in general. He massaged the dome slowly, working burps out as he went. Bucky's eyes were heavy lidded and Steve figured he probably wasn't getting any tonight. It was still early- or early for them, at least. Steve realized he hadn't eaten in a little, so he went back downstairs and grabbed a poptart and a glass of milk. He ate it on the bed while Bucky snored, and watched lore videos on youtube for some video game he'd never played. The night passed him by until the sun came up, and as the faint blue light cast patterns into the room and played over Bucky's face, he felt so full of love that his heart could catch fire and burn the cabin to the ground.
He stayed up so late it became early, and that presented options previously unavailable. He opened the delivery apps, and although there were scarce options, there was a local bakery that delivered, but only in high quantities. For Steve's purposes, that worked perfectly.
He ordered a dozen donuts and a dozen donut holes, and they arrived fresh and warm. He joined Bucky back in bed, and went to sleep for a few hours, knowing he'd be able to catch up later during one of Bucky's naps.
Bucky slept long, body exhausted from processing all those calories.
Steve waited for him to weigh himself in the bathroom, and waited expectantly for the number.
"326," Bucky told him.
The number went straight to his clit, heat pooled as he felt himself get wet. It was all so much, so much food, so many calories, so much decadence. The sheer amount of it all turned him on, appealing to his underlying kink of overindulgence.
As Bucky got back in bed, Steve got out the bright pink box, and Bucky's mouth watered at what he knew he'd find inside.
"This time, I want you to close your eyes as I feed you," Steve told him.
Bucky paused for a moment before assenting. Steve hadn't been sure if he'd actually do it; giving up control of sense was usually something Steve did in submission, not Bucky. But he did. He opened his mouth, and Steve placed the first donut on his tongue. It was pink strawberry frosted, a classic.
The donut holes Steve had were excellent, plump and fresh and more flavorful than the chain brands were. The next one was blueberry cake with vanilla glaze, and they went down easily, fluffy and fried. Then two chocolate frosted, one with sprinkles and one without. Bucky asked for a drink, and Steve lifted up the straw to the milkshake to his lips. It was strawberry, but deceptively calorific. After a long sip that was almost half the glass, Bucky swallowed and opened his mouth for the next donuts. The fifth one was jelly-filled, and the sixth was boston crème. Halfway there. Then a powdered sugar donut, and a chocolate cake donut glazed. Bucky started to breathe through his mouth, spreading his legs out and shifting lower down so that he had more room for his belly.
"You're doing so good," Steve soothed, petting his tummy. He was full, but not all the way yet. The fat on top of his stomach was getting thicker, so it was harder to tell when he was really nearing capacity. Steve was confident he could finish, though. He gave him a plain glazed that was smaller, and Bucky opened his mouth as wide as he could while Steve shoved it in. He ate it in two bites, then licked Steve's fingers. Steve gave him more of the milkshake, and Bucky finished it. The last three donuts went down the slowest; coffee, salted caramel, and lastly an apple fritter, the largest of all.
After he finished, he blinked open his eyes and looked down at his belly. "Fuck." He patted it and they both watched it wobble. "Did I really just eat twelve donuts?"
"Yes, and it was the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life," Steve praised. He put on a movie for Bucky to digest to before lunch. He'd worried Bucky would be getting bored around now, but the brunet seemed fully content to give in to sloth and do absolutely nothing for a week straight.
Once Bucky's stomach had some give to it again (due to Steve poking him every thirty minutes or so to test his capacity), Steve brought in the next course; a thick chili with double meat, served with at least a cup of shredded cheddar cheese and stirred in with so much sour cream until it was a shade of pink, just how Bucky liked. He'd plated it with two enormous hunks of cornbread, and a glass of boost to wash it down.
"Do we have any beer?" Bucky asked.
"Ooh, good idea." There were a few bottles that Clint had given them at the cookout, making them promise to try. It wasn't bad for calories, either- 294 each since it was double IPA.
Bucky was getting out his dab pen when Steve came back, and he handed him the uncapped beers. "I'm hitting a bit of a plateau," Bucky explained. "Always eat more when I'm crossfaded."
Steve accepted a hit of the pen, glad they'd brought it with. He inhaled just enough to feel fuzzy, wanting to stay focused for the most part. Bucky got decently high before starting in on the beers. On a full stomach, it was unlikely he'd get drunk, but Steve could tell he was feeling looser.
"Can you even feel how full you are?" Steve asked.
"Nah," Bucky answered, smile wide. "Just feels nice. Warm, and solid." He was touching himself, palming his dick through the blankets.
Steve had never seen him this high before, and it was turning him on a little. He handed him the pen.
"Trying to get me intoxicated, honey?" Bucky asked, seeing through his motives.
Steve blushed, but Bucky took the pen anyway, inhaling and blowing cherry scented air at Steve's face. It was just vapor, so it didn't harm him, but he wrinkled his nose anyway. Keeping eye contact, Bucky chugged a beer in one go, and then belched, setting the bottle down carelessly on the ground. He made grabby hands for the chili.
"Mmm, goddamn, this tastes so good," he moaned. He was chatty when he was high. It was unbearably cute. Steve felt his heart doing flip-flops.
Bucky washed down a bite of cornbread with the boost. Steve watched his throat bob as he swallowed, the skin on his pudgy double chin moving. "You should let me shave you," he told him without really deciding to speak.
Bucky sneered a little, and Steve giggled at the expression. "I look like a baby without a beard. Stupid dimple chin."
Steve loved his dimple chin. He missed it, a little, although logically he knew it was under there. "How long since you've seen your face?"
"Since before I got so fat."
"How did it start?"
"Working from home. Or a breakup. Or covid, or all three. Hit thirty and it kind of just happened." He was making his way steadily through the chili, scooping it up with the cornbread and scraping the bottom of the bowl.
Steve wished he'd been there to watch it happen. He wished they'd been friends through it all, close but not as close as they wanted, living in tandem while life happened to them and forged their identities. He wished he could have watched Bucky become the man he was today. But he loved knowing he was shaping who he would be in the future, in the most literal sense. He was changing his life, making it softer, easier, more filled with love and delicious food than he could have known on his own.
"Ugh, I'm getting full, but I still want more," Bucky groaned, finishing the beer.
Steve had dessert. Of course there was dessert. Four eclairs, from the same bakery, waiting in the fridge. He brought them up with a glass of milk, not expecting Bucky to eat all four.
It was a religious experience watching Bucky eat eclairs. He was teasing Steve, licking the hole where they'd been filled, swirling his tongue in the chocolate frosting, sucking the cream out of the pastry before taking a bite. He pushed it deep into his mouth so he had to chew with his mouth open, swallowing and eating the first éclair in just one more bite.
"Feed it to me," he told Steve.
The blond eagerly straddled his heavy thigh and fed him the second one. Bucky moaned and licked Steve's fingers for his benefit.
"Feels so good. So warm and full. Want more."
Steve fed him more, giving him the third and fourth and watching all the milk disappear into his gullet, and then he was on him, kissing him and licking into his mouth and tasting the cream.
"Want to blow you," Bucky gasped into his mouth.
Steve moaned and got off, so Bucky could get into position. He was too full to sit up, so he slid down further onto the bed and pulled Steve overtop his face. He clutched into the headboard as Bucky licked at his folds, sucking on his clit and plunging his tongue into Steve's depths. It wasn't long before he was shuddering and squirting into Bucky's mouth, and then he'd eaten one more thing.
They cuddled up in a sweaty pile, Steve spooning Bucky even though he was shorter, huddled onto his back and petting his swollen belly. It was getting so big it was laying on the bed beside Bucky, taking up serious real estate as he digested.
As the high wore off, Bucky rubbed his belly in earnest. "Fuck, shouldn't have eaten that much. Ugh."
"You get so slutty when you're high," Steve told him with a smile.
"Shut up. My belly aches so bad right now, you don't even know," Bucky pouted.
Steve got him some pepto and got to work on dinner; fried chicken breasts with mashed potatoes and biscuits. He didn't expect Bucky to have much after lunch, so he stirred boost into melted ice cream and served that as the drink.
To his surprise, Bucky's mouth watered when he saw the chicken. "I swear you know my cravings better than I do."
"I'm just so tapped in to your body," Steve told him.
Bucky ate very slowly, savoring each bite and not forcing it down as he had earlier. He was relieved for the ice cream, holding the glass to the side of his belly while it churned.
"I don't think I'm gonna beat 10,000," he told Steve.
He kissed his cheek. "I'm not the slightest bit disappointed. I get off from watching you enjoy yourself. I don't want you to make yourself sick."
Bucky finished draining the glass and clasped his hands on the apex of his turgid stomach. "I don't know how I'm going to go back to eating like a normal person when this is over. I gained six pounds in a day."
Steve lovingly patted the fat lower part of his belly where it sat firmly atop his thighs, covering more of his lap than it had yesterday. If it got much bigger there wouldn't be hardly any room for him to sit, a pleasure he was willing to sacrifice. "This all feels like an incredible dream. I can't believe you're doing this for me."
Bucky stretched like a cat, arching his back and pushing his belly into Steve's hand. "It's growing on me."
Day 3:
Breakfast: 3523
Lunch: 3288
Dinner: 3178
Total: 9989
Day 4:
Breakfast: 3440
Lunch: 3204
Dinner: 2277
Total: 8921