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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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Alex and I returned to the apartment with that box of donuts, and I was eager to have them all down his throat once we had settled back into the couch once more. I kept the box tucked under my arm as we made our way up the sidewalk side by side: he licked the extra cream off his fingers all the while, like a good little piggy.
Before we reached my apartment complex, I peered over my shoulder to the other side of the valley, where the sky still remained black with nightfall: it would be a few more hours before the sun started to peek out like Alex's belly. I returned my attention to him and his rubbing of his hands together: in the dim light, I could see his little belly poked out from under his shirt. He had eaten those donut plus that bear claw, but I knew that he had more room in there. He had plenty of room in there, if I knew it well.
Indeed, when he and I reached my front step, and he offered to hold the box for me while I unlocked the door, in the dim light, I could see him look on at the box as if he wanted more. He had that playful little smirk on his face, the one that riddled with desire and genuine hunger, like that of a young boy in a candy shop. I opened the door, and I led him back into my apartment. He set the box on the kitchen table: all I could think about was what I wanted to feed him next, be it the donuts or the sufganiyot for Hanukkah.
If there was one thing that I wanted, it was to keep at least a couple of donuts in that box for Lou and his girlfriend once they awoke within the next few hours. And despite it being the middle of the night, I was wide awake with no desire to head to bed until the sun rose again, and especially not when Alex let out this big hairy belch that sounded like it came right from the seat of his pants. I whirled around to face him with my mouth agape, and he cupped a hand to his mouth.
“Damn,” I said, to which he moved his hand away from his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Phew, that came out of nowhere.”
I chuckled at him. “That sounded like it felt good.”
“Oh, no, pardon me, that was—” He gently patted his little belly with one hand. “That was rude of me, Eric.”
I then turned my attention over to the donuts and, with a slight sashay to my step, I sauntered over to the table. I lifted the lid and picked out one of those jelly donuts. I held it up to my nose for a whiff of the smooth glaze on the crown, to which I was greeted by that sugary aroma in all its warmth and tenderness. A part of me wanted to take a nibble out of it just to entice him, but rather I turned to him as he lifted up his shirt and curled his fingers around the soft, slightly plump flesh that was his little belly. Soft and silken like fine bone china in all his cuteness; I also noticed that his body had a softer curve to it than I realized from before, as if he had grown all the more voluptuous.
“What'cha doin'?” I asked him with a little chuckle.
“Feeling myself,” he replied with a straight face. I held out the donut for him. “Which is that one?”
“Jelly,” I said. “What kind of jelly, I don't really know.”
“I dunno, Eric, I'm pretty full with those two and that bear claw I had back there,” he confessed with a shake of his head.
“It smells delicious, though,” I insisted. “And I see the hunger in your eyes, too. I mean, you're practically skin and bones, Alex. You should eat and indulge.”
He swallowed, and then he let go of himself, and all the while, the hem of his shirt remained folded up over the smooth skin on his waist. He was filling out enough for his shirt to hang up over his belly, much to my satisfaction. He held the donut in his fingertips, and then, very slowly, he nibbled into the rim of the donut. I stood there by the table with my hands rested on the back of the chair and my gaze fixed onto him.
The donut happened to be raspberry jelly, just like the sufganiyot that I wanted to make for him. Very carefully not to drip any jelly on his shirt, he licked at the core every so often before he took a bite of donut itself. His face was soft and his neck resembled to alabaster, especially as he made his way through the entire thing: his prominent Adam's apple seemed even more prominent and shapely whenever he swallowed a bite, such that I wanted to kiss him there once I had the chance. Once he cleared halfway, he closed his eyes and relished every bite of it.
At the last bite, he tilted his head back and slipped the donut into his mouth with one hand, and he held onto his belly with the other.
“Four,” he remarked with his mouth full. “Four donuts stuffed down my gullet.”
But I wanted more from him. So much more.
I opened the lid again and took out one of the plain glazed donuts, and I handed it over to him.
“Eat it,” I said.
“Can I take my shirt off?” he asked me.
“Please!”
He held onto the bottom hem of his shirt and peeled it off his body: his belly hung out just barely over the belt of his jeans, this little jelly roll that looked ready to be poked and lovingly held by me. I handed him his fifth donut, and he once again, ate it at a slow, deliberate pace, as if to relish in the flavors and for it to fill him up quicker. At one point, he sat down on the floor with his back to the arm of the couch: his jeans hugged his waist in utmost tight fashion, but he didn't seem to mind. If anything, he appeared to be enjoying himself.
He reached the final bite and licked his fingers of the extra sugar, and I picked up a chocolate one with sprinkles on top. I knelt down next to him and held it out to him.
“Eat it,” I begged him.
“Eric, please—I'm too full. I already ate five!” His belly hung out in the open, and a part of me wanted to poke him to really see if he was all that full. But I could tell just by looking that he had a lot more room in there for more.
“Eat more,” I beseeched. “Eat more. Please. Eat more for—yourself.”
“What?” He was taken aback by that.
“Eat for yourself. Eat for pleasure. Your own, not mine.”
He let out a low whistle, and he lay his eyes on those little rainbow sprinkles on the top of the chocolate glaze. I could see it. I could feel it. I licked my lips and reached out with my free hand to his belly to stroke his skin there with my fingertips. He gasped at my light caresses, but then he closed his eyes and whistled again, as if to let out steam.
“Come on... there's a hedonist in there and you're going to embrace every inch of it,” I encouraged him.
He then took the donut without a moment's hesitation, and he once again ate at it at a slow pace. When he finished and licked off the remaining chocolate and sprinkles from his fingertips, he slid further down onto his back and rested both hands on his belly, now taut and sweetly full.
“Oh, god... dude, you're gonna give me diabetes,” he complained.
“Nah,” I assured him.
“Nah?” He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Yeah.”
He then grimaced and lifted himself into an upright position: such a cute chubby little potbelly as it hung over his belt! The hair that ran from his belly button down to the top of the buckle only made me want to kiss him there more.
“Phew.”
“Not so hungry anymore, are ya?” I teased him.
“You got that right—woof—”
I finally reached out to prod the top of his belly, which was even more taut than I realized.
“Oh, yeah, that's a full tummy right there,” I remarked in a singsong voice. “Almost delicate, too. Little belly that gets so full it becomes dainty and delicate.”
He ran his fingers through his black curls, and the tiny plume of gray at the crown showed itself to me like a flash of lightning during a nocturnal thunderstorm.
“Eric,” he breathed out.
“Uh huh?”
He closed his eyes and parted his lips, and he breathed harder from the giant feeling within him. Five donuts deep, one of which was a massive bear claw, and he was looking like a stuffed turkey. He was making me swoon by the mere sight of his skin out there in the open. I could feel myself blushing from the feeling.
“Alex?” I asked him with a clearing of my throat. He opened his eyes and gazed on at me with a slight part to his cherry lips.
“Will you marry me?” His eyes drooped and his lips pouted as if he was completely out of breath at the moment.
“Will I marry you? Uh... I dunno. You wanna get married?”
“I don't know what I want,” he blathered, and he leaned back towards the couch again, that time with a hand clasped to his head as if he was completely overwhelmed by the sensation. So full of sugar and fat that he became sleepy and delirious, and it was making me giggle to myself.
“Would you like another donut?” I offered him.
“I thought you would never ask.”
I stood to my feet and walked on over to the table for the box. There was another cream filled donut in there, a large one like the Boston crème one he had had in the donut shop; I picked it out and returned to him, that time down on my knees before him.
“I feel like I'm drunk,” he said as he once again ran his fingers through his curls.
“Nah, you would know if you were drunk,” I teased him, complete with another little poke of his little belly: his flesh was tight and warm, but he looked so cute right there right next to me. He gazed on at me, those eyes as deep and soulful as ever, and then slowly, he lifted himself and reclined back on his hands: but he was face to face with me. He lowered his gaze to the donut in my fingers, and he showed me the tip of his tongue. My gaze never left his as his tongue slithered from one corner of his mouth to the other.
“You would know... if you were drunk,” I assured him, and I moved in closer to his face. His eyes were hooded and he was shirtless to boot.
“Drunk on you,” he breathed.
“I'm drunk on you, rather,” I retorted right into his lips, but I never moved in all the way for the kiss. He instead treated me to the softest groan from the back of his throat.
“You wanna shove your—oh.” He lowered his gaze down to my pants.
“Hold still.” With my free hand, I reached down to open up his jeans with only two fingers. He showed me his tongue again, and that time he closed his eyes as if he was about to surrender to the feeling. I held onto the zipper and I prepared to unzip him with one hand. I could unzip him and then stick that cream donut down his throat to make half a dozen donuts in that little burgeoning belly of his.
He tilted his head back as if to show me his neck and the shape of his lips. He was driving me crazy.
He then jerked his head forward and knocked me right in the forehead. I fell onto my back, and all the while, I never let go of that donut. But he crawled over me and stayed erect right before me: it was right then I saw the beautiful, sensual curve under his belly button. The boy had a full on pot going.
“Ha! Now I'm the one who's got it.” He parted his lips and let his long black curls dangle down on the side of my head. His full, round face resembled the moon as it loomed over me.
“You sure about that?” I teased him, to which he leaned down and shoved his tongue right into my mouth. A mouth full of Jew York. I blinked my eyelashes several times at him as he held back and gazed straight into my face with the fiery veil of lust within his eyes.
“You tell me,” he retorted.
I licked my lips: he still had a line of sugar around his mouth from the donuts, but I knew it was because of him. As sweet as candy to my soul, and yet he still burned within me with the heat of blood. Sweet, like chocolate. Hot, like blood.
“I don't know,” I told him.
“You don't know what?”
“I don't know if you can handle.”
“Handle what?”
I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, and then I gripped onto him for a gentle tug.
“Me.”
I tugged at him again, and that time, he gasped at the feeling.
“Once again, hold still, you bad boy.”
I held the donut before his lips to entice him again.
“You're gonna shove that into my mouth?” he asked me in a low, husky voice.
“I don't know. Maybe I can eat it and get you going.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you're a naughty boy with a sexy hedonist inside of you and I'm gonna get him out of there.”
“Pfff, yeah, good luck with that,” he retorted. “You can't just shove your dick up my ass without—FUCK!” I gave his hair a good tug to silence him.
“Maybe I can!” I declared. “Come here, fat boy.”
“Fat boy?” he demanded, taken aback.
“Yes! You're a boy who's getting a little bit fat.”
“So you say.”
He never moved, and he had this look in his eyes like he knew something that I didn't.
“What do you mean?”
He gripped onto my wrist, the one with the donut in hand, and he brought my hand up to my mouth. Though I had a hold on his hair, he was still very strong. If anything, his weight only made him stronger: he pushed me onto my back and then, without taking his gaze off my face, he reached down my pants. Those long lanky spidery fingers on my skin. I was about to get my comeuppance for being such a bad boy myself, for trying to coax it out of him when he was the one in control this entire time.
“Holy shit,” I breathed out as his fingers fondled me and caressed me down.
“Yeah. Yeah, you like this, don't ya?”
“Holy shit—holy shit!”
I could feel him peel back my pants for more exposed skin. He then bowed his head to be right in my ear.
“Come for me, Eric,” he breathed, his voice a silky husky whisper that sent chills up and down my spine like a zipper. “Come—for me.”
“I'm—”
“Come for me. Come for me. Come for me... come for yourself.”
I could feel the pearls dribbling out from the tip, to which he picked up a small bit with the tip of his finger. He then showed me a smirk and a devilish gleam in those deep eyes.
“A little bit of Boston crème for the sunrise?” he offered me.
“Alex, no—” I begged him. I could hold onto his hair again but he seemed bulletproof to it; plus I was using my free hand to keep him off my chest. He held his finger right in front of my face, that little pearl about the size of a pea right on the tip. I knew it was punishment.
“I couldn't make you swallow on me—I'm gonna make you swallow your own,” he declared.
“Alex, no!”
“Yes!”
And all the while, I never dropped that donut. It was either drop that donut or pull on his hair again.
“Lick my finger,” he commanded as he held his finger right down in my face.
“No!”
“Lick my finger!”
“NO!”
He then widened his eyes at me. He locked onto me, hard, as if he was about to climb right into me and bang on my walls.
“Lick my finger or I'm going to lose the weight,” he spat. I pinched my eyes shut and then, using nothing more than the tip of my tongue, I licked it off in two swipes. It wasn't bad but I would rather lick his cream instead.
“There. That wasn't so bad, now was it?”
“You know I'm gonna make you munch on your own cum now, right?”
“So you say,” he teased me with a smirk and a wink at me.
“Damn, you're good,” I remarked.
“Nah. Just trying to figure you out.”
“Me?” I was taken aback by that.
“Yeah. Why this whole fascination with me eating and indulging and putting on a few pounds? Where did it come from?”
I held the donut before my face, still crisp and warm straight out of the oven. I then returned my gaze to him.
“I'm not too sure.” Even though I knew full well where it came from.
He squinted his eyes at me, and then he leaned down to the donut for a large bite from his side. He closed his eyes and whipped his hair back from his bare shoulder as if about to give me a beauty shot, and then he stood to his feet above me. Careful not to drop it, I sat up there on the floor and I finished it for him.
Oh, how I wished to know what that boy was thinking.
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Blood and Chocolate