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Blood and Chocolate	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 70 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Based on my own predilections or not, this is still a work of fiction. by the way, you will get hungry reading this. Just, just just trust me on this.

Chapter List
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I could hardly shake the thought of Alex laying there on my recliner all dazed. Lou and I could hardly talk about it afterwards given we were in such a deep shock. He was so warm and soft to the touch: it was like scritching the belly of a dog, a dirty dog who needed to be nudged out a bit.
We had woken something in that boy, and I was willing to keep at it. I needed to see him like that again, especially since we saw him again the next day at rehearsal. He had a sweet little smile on his face and a soft little blush on his face: I had never seen him so rosy before. He looked so warm and happy, and his face was so round and soft: I walked into that room with the thought of kissing him right on his little cheekbones followed by those soft, smooth cherry lips. I lowered my gaze down to his body, and the way that his waist seemed a little fuller: the hem of his shirt pressed against him, and his jeans seemed to fit him a bit more on the snug side.
I skirted past Chuck and Greg, and I sat down next to him. He leaned back against the wall with his little red guitar rested across his lap: his shirt lay on his waist in such a way that made him seem far more delicate. Oh, to have my hands on that softness.
He flashed a glance over at me, hooded eyes and slightly puckered lips and everything. I lowered my gaze to his waist again
“God, you look so cute,” I told him. “You’re all plump and healthy.”
“I feel healthy,” he said with a run of his fingers through his jet-black hair. His skin looked so smooth and so tender: I wanted to kiss him even with Chuck and Greg standing right there before us.
He moved his guitar away from his body so I could have a better look at his belly, still lightly covered in the bottom part of his shirt.
“I feel like you should be wearing lace or something,” I told him in a near whisper.
“Lace around my waist,” he followed along, and then he knitted his eyebrows together at that. “Lace or leather?”
“Both. Leather to accentuate the beauty of your body, lace to make you even more delicate.”
“You don’t think of a boy wearing lace, to be honest,” he confessed to me.
“You could pull it off, though,” I pointed out as I inched closer to him. He gently tugged on the bottom part of his shirt: his waist was a lot fuller than I had expected. He had a beautiful little roll right there, and one that looked so very soft: he was full and juicy, and I imagined him being rather succulent as well. It was only a matter of time before he had a full-on sexy little potbelly on his little body, and it was all from my doing. All from my doing, even if Lou played a bit of a role in the whole thing. It was all from me, and Elle as well.
“What’re you thinking about, Eric?” he asked me.
“Thinking about taking you in all for myself,” I confessed to him: I couldn’t help myself. I reached over and gently fondled his belly, right on the side closest to me. Soft and plush: I didn’t care if Chuck and Greg stood right there before us, I was ready to take him down right there on the floor. I was ready to fuck him silly.
“Eric—”
I let my tongue roll out from my lips. So delicious.
“Eric!”
I shook my head and blinked my eyes. Lou was right next to me in the bus seat with a bewildered look on his face. I shook my head again and glanced out the window: we were almost up to Oakland and the little studio that we had booked for a couple of weeks.
All a daydream, but I swore that it had actually happened back there. It was almost cruel to realize that it all had been nothing more than a mere figment of my own imagination.
“Are you okay?” Lou asked me in a low voice.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just thinking.”
He reached past my head for the button for the bell, and I sighed through my nose. I couldn’t bear to think about seeing Alex that day, especially not after that daydream I had just had: what got me the most about it was the fact that it was a daydream rather than a straight-up dream. If it bothered Lou a bit, then I could only imagine how it would all fare once we made our way in there. I had my fears, and I had my doubts, and they persisted even as I broken the ice with Alex: something about sharing a daydream like that with him only made me recoil.
The bus rolled up to the curb, and we bowed off there as quick as we could to beat the rest of the crowd behind us. Lou led me up the sidewalk towards the corner, and I recognized her across the street, right in front of the front window of the fruit stand with her hands on a pair of avocados. I had no idea as to when I would see her again, and thus, I had to act quick.
Lou padded ahead of me to the crosswalk before us.
“I’ll catch up with you, Lou,” I called after him.
“Catch up?” he asked me, befuddled.
“Yeah, I’ll explain later—” I ducked across the street with a quick glance in either direction beforehand, and she turned her head as if she was looking over her shoulder at me from there.
“Elle!” I called out to her, and she froze right in her tracks with a pensive look on her face, and I reached the curb before she could do anything else.
“Elle!” I called out again, and she finally brought her attention to.
“Oh, hey, Eric,” she greeted me with a sly little smile, and she turned towards me with those avocados still in either hand. “I’m just seeing what the avocados over here are like.”
I glanced down at the display of avocados before us, and the fact that skins on these things were that nice rich dark green and perfectly dimpled told me that the fruit there was spectacular.
“By the way, where were you the last time?” I asked her.
“I was out. I’m sorry I missed you. How’s it all going?”
I swallowed as she picked up a third avocado and gave the fullest, roundest part a little squeeze with her fingers. I thought about the daydream that I had had back there on the bus: Alex was full and round like that avocado, all thick and juicy like one of those apples on the shelf inside the window before me.
“I really, really want to know how to make those little jelly donut holes they have at Hanukkah,” I told her.
“Sufganiyot? Ooh, those take a little while to make. You sure you’re going to be up for that?” She tucked the avocados in the basket next to her.
“I at least want to know what goes into them,” I explained as I ran my fingers through my hair.
“Well, you’re going to need to make dough and then fry it up in little orbs like you would an actual donut,” she explained. “And then you let them cool on a rack and fill them up with a jam of some kind and dust ‘em with powdered sugar. If you’re really feeling hardcore, you can make your own with some of the fruits here.”
I gazed past her to the rest of the displays, and I thought of filling Alex’s belly with all the lush fruit he could ever dream of. When I thought about it, I wanted him to be healthy: in my daydream, it was if he needed to be that round otherwise, it wouldn’t sit with him very well. I had to fill him up, and I had to keep him healthy. It was the best of both worlds with me and him.
“I want to see what the fruit here is like, too,” I told her with a little smile.
“Excellent! I was just about to go inside.”
Elle led me in there, and I was greeted by the smell of fresh fruit hinted with a bit of flowers. I pictured his belly growing as round and cute as one of those little watermelons over on the far side of the room, and his body as tender and lush as one of those peaches right in front of me. Elle picked up a couple of mangos off to the right, and I turned back to the apples in the window. I picked up one on top and gave it a little squeeze with my fingers, and then I examined that red skin, as bright red as any apple I had ever seen before. I took one of those bags off the dispenser roll next to me and picked out a couple of those apples: if nothing else, I figured it would be nice to have some fresh fruit in the house.
“Beautiful fruit in here,” I said as I came back within earshot of her.
“It really is,” she remarked. “I should also tell you that you can make those things with custard if you aren’t up to making a jam of some kind.”
“Nah, I’ll give it a shot,” I vowed to her.
“It’s usually a red jam like strawberry or raspberry,” she continued. “But you can do whatever you’d like, though.”
I spotted a beautiful, ripe peach right in front of her chest, and I reached out for it. Without warning, she turned to me with her mouth coming towards the side of my neck, much to my surprise.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’re you doing?” I asked her, taken aback. I showed her the peach, which in turn brought a sigh from her. She backed off from me and shook her head .
“Forgive me, I—thought you were coming onto me.”
I shook my head. “Nah, you just had this really gorgeous peach in front of you.” I held it up for her to see that smooth reddish orange color, that fine layer of fuzz on the top, that slight dimple in the side, and the stubby leaf at the top of the stem. “Look at this thing. It’s like it was picked right off the tree outside the shop here.”
“It really is,” she remarked, and she turned to the rest of the display before us.
Alex and those plump ripe peaches, all to make him nice and plump himself. It was perfect.
“Strawberries, you said?” I asked her.
“Strawberries or raspberries,” she recalled, and she rounded the display case to the other side: I followed her to find all manner of berries, especially big red strawberries right in front of my face.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to tell you a secret,” she started in a low voice. I turned to her as she held a couple of those strawberries in one hand.
“Strawberries are aphrodisiacs?” I asked her with a raise of an eyebrow.
“Apples and peaches are, too,” she added, and she hooded her eyes at me when she said that. She held the strawberries down by her waist, and she brought her face closer to me: I could smell her soft soapy perfume on the side of her neck, the softest aroma against the rest of the shop behind her.
“Belly rubs lead to handjobs,” she said to me in a low voice, “and belly kisses lead to blowjobs, and full bellies lead to wanting more of everything.”
I shifted my weight at that.
“And I assume that goes for any sort of appetite you might have, too,” I added.
“Absolutely. The more you make these delicious things for him, the more he’ll want to eat it, and the more he’ll want to eat altogether. And the same applies to you, too. The more you show your bellies love, the more love you’ll feel.”
She backed away as one of the clerks bowed out from the double doors on the other side of the room: once he had his back to us, she returned to the side of my neck as if she was about to give me a kiss there.
“You go feed that boy for me,” she whispered right into my ear. “Feed him and give his little belly all the love it needs.”
Elle slipped the strawberries into my free hand, and I knew I had to get another bag for those as well as the peach.
The big question after that was how could I hide all that fruit from the guys once I got out of there.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Blood and Chocolate