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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 put his shirt back on over his body but he seemed to struggle with putting it on. I stayed there on the floor and watched him tug at the bottom hem, much to my amusement. The way that the hem hugged his waist in such snug fashion: he looked so full and cute, especially since he had a belly full of donuts right then. I could make out the shape of his belly button under the fabric as well: he was so round and thick there, as if he was made for my kisses down around there.
“That's really adorable,” I confessed to him, to which he frowned at me.
“What, the way my shirt is tight on me?”
“Yeah. It looks really cute. You look really sexy, all well fed and round like that. Makes me want to see just how much you can stuff down your gullet while keeping your clothes on.”
“And ruin my clothes?” he scoffed.
“Not if you stay with some little starter chub here,” I said with a gesture to his soft little belly. He clasped his hands to his hips as if to accentuate the softness around his waist.
“If you keep feeding me the way you've been, Eric, I won't just have a little starter thing here for much longer,” he pointed out in a singsong voice.
“Wanna watch the sunrise, big boy?” I offered him.
“Ooh, yes, please,” he said as he hitched up his jeans. The button was a bit snug on him as well, and when he tugged on his shirt again, I could see that full little muffin top. Indeed, I couldn't stop wanting to poke him as we walked on out to the grassy area right out in front of the apartments. Though it was the middle of fall, we could still lay down on the grass and let the sun bask over us like a couple of princes of the Bay Area. Indeed, the sky over the hills on the other side of the valley was already painting it that soft milky color right at the crests. The grass lay on a slight slope down towards the street, so we would be washed in sunlight within the next hour or so.
Alex took a step onto the grass and, through the light from the street lamps, I could make out the stout shape of his muffin top. I reached out to poke him, and he lurched away. I showed him my tongue before I plopped down on the ground by the front sign of the apartment complex. I watched him hitch up his jeans some more, and then he sank down onto the grass next to me.
“This is really tight—” he grunted out.
“It's very cute,” I told him. He took his spot there to the left of me, where I was able to see his little belly as it spilled out over the waistband. He pressed his fingertips onto his flesh, in all its plushness and tenderness. In the dim golden light, I could see the look of utter disgust on his face.
“Look at me,” he groaned. “Look at me, Eric! Look at me!”
“I’m looking,” I assured him.
“I’m getting so fat. And it’s all because you just have to stuff me silly.”
“You look really cute, though, Alex,” I insisted. “Very cute and sensual. I mean, face it: there’s a bad boy inside of you.”
He shifted his weight there on the grass as if he struggled to find a sweet spot with his muffin top, but I knew there wasn’t as fat only worked in the way that it wanted to and that was to hang out in the open.
“God damn, this is so tight,” he grumbled.
“Unbutton your pants,” I suggested. “Let that cute little roll roam free.”
“I'm not unbuttoning my pants,” he scoffed.
“Why not?”
“Because once I do unbutton it, I won't be able to button it up again.”
“Try laying down,” I suggested.
He swallowed and lay down flat on his back. He put his hands behind his head and adjusted himself there on the grass next to me.
“Comfy?” I asked him.
“Yeah, except—” He rested one hand upon his belly, which I could tell was starting to rise up from his body and obscure his view. He had a ways to go before he was as big and chubby as me, but given he lay flat on his back, I could tell he was already beginning the struggle.
“Welcome to my world, big boy,” I teased him with a light pat there. “At least you don't have a big potbelly yet.”
“Yet?” He was taken aback by that.
“Again.” I ran my fingers through my black hair. “There’s a bad boy inside of you. A bad, hungry boy who’s not afraid to let his tubby tummy go for the sake of his appetite.”
He hoisted himself up onto his elbows, and he gave his hair a toss back with the flick of his head. The way the light from the lamps as well as the incoming sunlight caressed over his head and shoulders made me think of the statuesque marble busts of ancient history.
He bowed his head towards his chest a bit, and a part of me wanted to lift off his shirt and tickle his belly followed by his hipbones. If it felt good on me, I only wondered as to how it felt on him.
“Hey, maybe you could whip me up a little omelette or two when we get home?” he suggested. I glanced back at him with my eyes wide.
“Two?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know how many eggs go into just one?”
“I do, I do. It’s just… two is sometimes better than one.”
Sometimes. I wondered what he meant by that as the light over the crests of the hills brightened and changed colors from that soft milky white to a more golden tone. The light washed over his face, which in turn only made him appear lovelier and more like a marble statue: his round face only seemed rounder because of the light, and I knew it was because of the car that rolled up before us with the window down.
I shivered and was about to lay down next to him to absorb his warmth when I caught a glimpse of John’s face in the driver’s seat.
“The hell?” Alex quipped, and John snapped a photo of us, reclined back on the grass and snuggled down together.
“Ahhh, yes, there we are!” He cackled like a madman as he drove away from us, and Alex tilted his head back and groaned.
“We've got to do something about him,” he declared.
“Yes, but what?” I demanded. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. At best, we could hope that the dim light from the sunrise and the street lights gave him the worst photo imaginable, but then again, I could see Alex’s face as clear as day right there next to me.
He then cleared his throat and rested a hand on the front of his shirt as if he was about to take it off right then.
“Do you have Dave's number on hand?” he asked me.
“Dave?” I echoed him. “Which Dave? There's like fifty of them that we know here in the Bay Area alone.”
“You know. Dave.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “The one we know all too well.”
“Oh, that Dave,” I followed along. “Why should we call him?”
“Have you seen him at a dinner party before? He's quicker than a thief. He could turn him into jelly.”
The sunlight only grew more golden and, once the first rays of sunlight peeked over the hill crests, he ran his hand over the shape of his belly and pulled his shirt up. The sun caressed over the smooth, silken skin on his belly and his face: he gave his hair a toss back again, and he closed his eyes part of the way.
So gorgeous.
“Part of me wants a milkshake,” he confessed.
“A milkshake?” I demanded, and I resisted the urge to laugh at that. “Alex, you just ate a bunch of donuts plus I’m about to make you a big pesto omelette. Surely, your belly's gotta be feeling like it's about to pop as is. Put some eggs and veggies on top of that, plus a thick shake and you’re gonna be as fat as a pig soon enough.”
“Not exactly,” he said. “I mean, I had the donuts but it was a couple of hours ago.”
He got me there, and he got me by making me lick my finger earlier. I sighed through my nose, and he picked himself up into an upright position to make that roll hang out over his waistband yet again, that time in all its bare naked beauty.
I turned my attention to his face, right as he loomed in closer to me. His lips beckoned me, silky smooth and gently plump in all of their purity. The tip of his nose hung right before the tip of my own, as if he was about to kiss me there on the grass.
I could see it. I could feel it.
He puckered his lips at me, and his eyes burned into me like the cherries of cigarettes.
I swallowed as I prepared to move in for the kiss when he set a hand on his belly again.
“Oof…”
“Hungry?” I asked him.
“Very much so. And suddenly, too.”
“Okay…”
I took him by the hand and led him back to my apartment for a round of coffee and a veggie omelette. When he closed the door behind him, he reached for me, but I tugged back.
“Don’t be giving me the pullback, now,” he scoffed.
“The pullback?” I looked into his eyes as he lingered by the edge of the counter right next to me. He cocked his hip to the side and let his chubby belly hang out in the open in all its shameless glory.
“Oh, no,” I groaned.
“Yeah.” He cracked me a smirk.
“Oh... no.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you created a complete monster out of my stomach, Eric.” He chuckled at that.
So delicious. So deliciously evil.
“You bad boy,” I teased him. “You are a bad, bad boy. So very naughty.”
He shifted his weight right at his spot, such that his little belly spilled out some more from under his shirt, this cute little muffin top that was somewhat on the snug side from all of the tasty food he had eaten. Stray tendrils of his black curls spilled over his collar bones like from the inside of an inkwell. He showed me his tongue, like the well-fed serpent he was to me.
“You know what?” I began again, but then I had no clue where to begin with this. “Just for that. I ought to spank you.”
“Spank me?”
“Yeah. I want to take you over my knee and spank that little ass of yours.”
He licked his lips. “Carefully. You could upset my stomach with that.”
I lowered my gaze down to his belly, and I crouched down in front of him as if I was about to blow him.
“Not if I—do this.”
I lifted his shirt, puckered my lips, and blew on his skin. He yelped out from the feeling; when I did it again, he tried to lunge away from me like a little fat piglet.
“Shit! That tickles!”
“As it should!” I declared. I did it a third time and he shrieked with laughter, and I hoped Lou wouldn’t wake up right then. A fourth time and he lost his balance and nearly fell onto the floor.
“Stop it! Stop it! Please! I beg you!”
He slid down the front of the cabinet and I stood before him with my hands on my hips.
“Oh, my god... oh, my god,” he gasped. “I'm hard as a rock right now.”
“What?” I sputtered.
“I'm hard as a rock right now. Feel me.”
“Feel you?”
“Yes, feel me. Feel how hard I am below the belt, Eric.”
I licked my lips at that. It was a trap, I just knew it.
I shook my head at that and turned to the stove for a skillet and some butter.
“No way. You’re getting breakfast, big boy—”
And he let out a whistle and shook his head at that. There was something really sexy about that little twinkle in his eye, too, and I hoped he would have it all the way through breakfast.
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Blood and Chocolate