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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
- 14
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- 16
I walked into that room with the big bag of fruit in my hand, but I was careful to not do anything to bring attention to the fruit itself, simply because I saw Alex over there by his stack of amps and with his guitar leaned up against the side of his left shin and something cradled in his lap. I skirted along the wall to my right and towards the drum kit not too far from him there. Lou had gone off somewhere in that little building, and no way could he have gone that far away from there, either, because I had just seen him somewhere in there before.
But I was alone in that room with Alex, Alex and that little roll of fat around his waist, just barely big enough to fill out the shape of his body as well as his hips and thighs. On one hand, I was surprised that he had already gained enough weight to have a little extra boom in the back, but then again, I wasn’t at all surprised when I thought about it. The boy was hungry, and he needed to eat anyway, regardless of whether or not he went out on tour with us, and every time I saw him, he was sitting down a great deal.
There was that first time we all went out on a short little tour together—right after Alex had joined us no less—and I practically pigged out at home for a whole couple of weeks before, because we had been told that touring was going to be hard on us so we had to stock up beforehand. Given he was still in high school, he already ate a lot anyway, but because of his wiry little body, he hardly ever gained any weight whereas Zetro, Lou, and I were a trio of pork chops before we went out there.
He was always so slender and svelte, delicate even with those shapely hips and long gorgeous legs. He was getting even shapelier with those extra pounds now.
The more I thought about it, the more satisfying it felt. Once he gained that weight, it was going onto him like glue and filling out his body so nicely. He may have been anal about it but I could see it for myself that he genuinely enjoyed it.
I thought about what Elle had told me, and I knew for a fact that I would have to find a way to make jams and things to put in those little donut holes for him. Lou and I wanted to fill his belly with only the very best things. The very best things for the very best way in which his body looked.
I kept the fruit nestled up next to me as if I was hiding priceless treasure from the cops. Alex raised his gaze towards me and showed me a smile: his face was round and plump, smooth even, rounder than it had been the day before. It was as if he had gained weight overnight and looked slightly fuller than in mere hours before: add to this, his face resembled to the rosy tinge of the big peach right next to my hip. There was a part of me that wanted to mosey on over there to kiss him right on the chubby cheekbone, but I also thought about taking one of my black guitars out of the little black closet next to me to jam with him.
Jam with him.
Make jam with him.
Make jam for him.
He knitted his eyebrows together at the sight of me.
“You okay, Eric? Your upper lip is trembling.”
Indeed, I hesitated for a second to realize that, yes, my upper lip was trembling as if I was ready to burst into tears right then and there right in front of him. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip as if I was tasting something utterly delicious, and I wanted to taste him at some point or another. Fill that little belly up with all sorts of good things and then gently make out with him, although when I thought that I shook my head.
Alex snorted at me. “What’s the matter?” he asked me with a slight chuckle.
“Nothing, I just—was having a moment,” I assured him with a clearing of my throat. He nodded at me and glanced down at my lap.
“What you got there?”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I quipped.
He frowned at me. “Eric, it’s pretty obvious that you have something next to you,” he scoffed. “What’s in the bag? What you got?”
I sighed through my nose and lifted it up, to which he raised his eyebrows at the sight of it. He parted his little cherry lips at the sight of the fresh fruit inside of there, and he let out a low whistle.
“Ooh, that’s some good-looking fruit,” he remarked. “Even I can tell from clear over here.”
“Got it from the stand right up the street here,” I told him. Lou’s voice carried into the room right then, and I knew it would have to wait from thereafter.
I tucked the fruit into the nook of the bench I was sitting on because apparently, the miniature fridge in the next room wasn’t working properly. I wanted to be close to my food, anyway, especially with three other hungry guys in there with me and Alex.
I kept my guitar on my lap and those decadent ripe fruits right next to me: at one point, as Lou and Alex were going along with the latter’s metronome for a steady rhythm, and he had picked up one of Greg’s basses to play a line that he said was “going to drive him nuts otherwise”, I reached behind me and opened the bag to let some of the air out. Neither of them noticed; I was definitely going to make jam that night for certain, and I was going to make Alex a fresh homemade batch of sufganiyot come the first night of Hanukkah.
I returned to my guitar for a couple of licks to go with Alex’s bass.
“Do that again, Eric,” he advised me, and so I did, and then Lou followed with a steady standard beat: all the while, the metronome clicked away as our de facto advisor. Chuck and Greg meanwhile, nodded along to it. It always fascinated me how sometimes a song would coalesce and come together at the seams like this, and often without even so much as trying. We had to have Alex for a multitude of reasons, and this was one of them.
At one point, he traded the bass for his little red guitar for a quick solo, to which I twinned with him. I had been told that I stood in Alex’s shadow, but I didn’t think so: he and I both had our strengths, and there was no reason for us to be compared to one another, and just because I wanted to see him gain more weight than ever didn’t mean anything more than what I had wanted for this thing between me and him.
But if I really wanted to, then I would make note of it.
At one point, Lou stood up from behind his drum kit and padded back outside for a smoke, and Chuck joined him for a hit from his bong. Greg disappeared into the next room where this tall, swarthy looking fellow stood behind the board with a pencil tucked behind his ear as if he was in fact the producer himself.
I turned to Alex, still as warm, round, and rosy as a plump little peach, right as he ran his fingers through his dark curls: the minute light gray plume at the crown of his head peeked out like a little rabbit at springtime.
“Hey, Eric, I’m a—” He cleared his throat and showed me a smile. “—I’m getting a little hungry. Would you mind at all if I had one of those pieces of fruit you’ve got there with you?”
“Well, some of this is going to—uh—” I, too, cleared my throat. “—be made into jams.”
“Like… homemade jams?”
“Yeah. I kinda wanna…well, I was going to keep this a surprise for later, but I guess I might as well tell you. I want to make you those little donut holes you usually have at Hanukkah.”
He paused for a second, and then his face lit up.
“Sufganiyot?” he asked me.
“Yes! Yes, that.”
He smiled again, and that time he looked like one of those little Garbage Pail Kids with his round little cheekbones and that prominent gray streak at the right side of the top of his head: another few pounds and he would have the beginnings of the cutest little double under his chin.
“That’s so sweet of you,” he told me. “Hanukkah isn’t for a few months, though.”
“Oh, yeah. I just kinda wanna… you know. Get started on it.”
“I see. All of it is for jam?”
“Uh, no, there’s an apple here and a couple of peaches, a couple of kiwis, and a couple of mangoes, too. The strawberries and raspberries are going to be for the jam.” I handed him one of the peaches, to which he took for himself and sniffed the part where the stem emerged.
“Ooh, that’s a good one,” he noted, and he rubbed the face of the peach against his jeans.
There was a tap on the wall next to me, and I raised my index finger to him, and I ducked out of there to the next room where the long-haired guy with the pencil stood with a little twinkle on his eye and a smirk on his face as if he was about to tell me something filthy. He looked familiar: I had seen him before with Anthrax when they toured out here in California, all because he was trying out for the drumming position with Exodus, and if I remembered correctly, we actually had dinner with him before.
“John… Tempesta, right?” I asked him.
“Yes-sir-ee-bob,” he replied, and his facial expression never changed for a second.
Then I realized he was looking past me. I turned to find that he had been watching Alex and me in there this whole entire time.
“He’s getting a little round, isn’t he,” John said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, he, uh…” I cleared my throat. “He really is.”
“Getting as round as that peach there,” he continued, and I turned to him slightly baffled. “It’s kind of funny, actually. He’s like a little kid in there with that fruit and the roundness to his face.”
“Let’s just say he’s been eating pretty well lately,” I told him, to which I nodded my head. I refrained from telling him that it was all because of me, and yet, I needn’t tell him about it because it seemed as though he knew about it already.
“You like it, don’t you,” he teased me.
“Like what?”
“Feeding him and making him all round and happy like that. You’re responsible for that, and you like it, too.”
“What makes you think that?” I asked him with a chuckle.
“Just… the way he looked at you, and you seemed so eager to give him some fruit. And you’re making something special for a day that’s special to him. It just—makes perfect sense.”
I swallowed, and all of a sudden, I needed a drink of water.
“I feel like a Guinea pig,” I confessed.
“You? Why you?”
“Because you were watching us this whole time. You were watching me the whole day.”
“That doesn’t make you a Guinea pig, though,” he pointed out. “If anything, he’s—” He pointed the eraser of the pencil over to Alex. “—the Guinea pig. Speaking of which…” John turned his attention to the heavy wooden shelf behind him, and he picked something off the top, something small and square with something round inside.
“Blueberries?” I asked him.
“Yeah. Give him these and give me a ring, and I’ll come on over to film you guys doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
I gaped at him.
“Would you?”
“I would,” John vowed as he handed me the berries, all plump and round and clean and the size of dimes. “I would totally film you guys getting down with it all.”
I pursed my lips and returned to Alex in the next room, right as he was indulging in that ripe peach, complete with some juices on his chin.
“I think there’s a napkin over here, too…” John muttered, and leaned over for something else. He then handed me a few paper napkins.
“Go ahead.” John nodded towards Alex and showed me a mischievous grin once again. “Go ahead, give it to him. I’ll be right here.”
I sighed through my nose and padded back into the room right as Alex took a large bite of the peach.
“Oh my god, this peach is perfect,” he told me, and I handed him the napkins. “Mm! Thank you—” He wiped his chin and then took another bite. I then showed him the little box of blueberries.
“Would you like these?” I offered him.
“Ooh, yes, please. I’m going to be so full here pretty soon, though.” He took another bite of peach, followed by another until he cleared the pit, and he tossed it into the little bin behind him. Another napkin to his lips and his chin, and then he reached for the second peach.
It was almost too much for me to bear. I tucked one other napkin into my back pocket, and I headed back to John, who had taken his seat there before the panel with a clipboard perched on his lap.
“He’s really looking like a little piglet with that fruit.” It was weird to hear him say that because Alex only had that little bump on his waist and the nice round shape to his face. But I couldn’t help but picture it along with him: he was becoming rounder like a little piggy, and one stuffed with lush, succulent fruit.
Pigs liked to eat apples and peaches, after all. They liked to eat it all, just like how he did.
I could feel my face growing warm from the mere sight of him over there.
I couldn’t handle it.
I bowed out of there, and much to John’s confusion no less. But I opened the door on the other side of the room and ducked inside of the small room there, and I closed the door so fast. I leaned back against the panel and closed my eyes. I didn’t care if I was in the broom closet, just so long as I had some level of privacy.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him in there. I couldn’t stop it.
I had to.
I had to.
I pursed my lips and opened my jeans. My hand down the front of my shorts. My finger on my bare skin. Both my fingers on my skin. I used only one hand on myself, all to wheel and deal and get myself off the ground and sideways into myself.
I kept my eyes closed, and I pictured him right there before me with his arms up onto the crown of his head. His shirt lifted up from the waist of his jeans. His belly exposed through a little sliver the width of a standard leather belt, and his belly was nice and round, and so kissable.
It was driving me nuts. It was going to keep on driving me insane, even when I came for myself at the slightest swipe of my own two fingertips. I pursed my lips again as I stuck my finger into the hole at the tip. All those peaches, all those apples, all those blueberries, and those two mangoes that Elle picked out, all of it was about to straight to his full belly and make his growing body nice and lush.
I wrinkled my nose when I felt a little precum bubble out from under my fingertip. I nudged my jeans off all the way so I could let loose there in the broom closet. With my free hand, I reached into my back pocket for the napkin clean up when I shot out the real pearls of my load. I parted my lips and let out a soft gasp as I came right into the napkin.
Using both sides, I cleaned up as best as I could. If nothing else, I could go to the bathroom in there and clean up the rest. Breathing hard, I pushed myself up onto my feet and wiped up some more just in case, and then I put my dick back into my underwear and zipped up. The real crux of the biscuit was doing that again but at home instead.
I let out a low whistle and shook my head about to clear my head, and I ducked out of there. John had left the room but I could hear Alex in the next one over.
If nothing else, I had to face him straight up.
I walked in there, to which I realized that it was much warmer than what I had remembered. But I walked in right as Alex was popping blueberries into his mouth as if they were candy.
“Phew…” He rested a hand on his little belly, slightly round and gently taut from underneath the snug fabric of his shirt. Little or not, he was driving me crazy. I kept on thinking about it… about kisses there which would lead to kisses right below the equator.
“Getting full?” I asked him, and I was trying so hard to keep my composure.
“Very much so,” he told me. “Those two peaches and now all these berries… I didn’t think it all would fill me up so well.” He popped a couple more into his mouth and closed his eyes as he nursed those flavors.
Meanwhile, I had no idea if I was going to be able to so much as focus for the rest of that day or that evening. I wanted to see how much more he could stuff down his gullet and then go nuts with him before he drove me any more nuts.
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Blood and Chocolate