Under Construction - Chapter Four
I spent the next day at work distracted, mostly because of what happened the night before. When things started to slow down my thoughts drifted back to Marco’s touch and the vivid fantasy. I couldn’t help it. I was crushing hard. If my mind wasn’t focused on Marco, it was on his cooking. Down in the breakroom fridge one of Marco’s tightly packed containers was waiting for me. As the workday continued and my stomach started to growl, I swore I could almost smell the aroma of rich garlic and tomato that had filled his apartment.
Once the lunch break finally came, I headed downstairs and waited my turn for the microwave. As I waited, Carlos walked by, almost missing me. Despite the sawdust covering him, he still looked more put together than most of the guys on site. Between his frosted tips, trimmed beard and nose ring, he always gave me the impression of someone who’d wear cargo pants and oversized shirts in a stylish way. Not that I saw him outside of work a lot, most of our social interaction happened over voice chat.
“This is new,” Carlos said as I turned to face him. A knowing grin spread across his lips. “You never have food to heat up. Did Mr. Sexy Architect pack enough for lunch this time?” I looked him over, waiting to see if his teasing was finished. His compact arms seemed a little more toned than I remembered; the tattoos disappearing under his sleeves sharpened by the muscle. Apparently, he was hitting the gym again.
“His name is Marco, I’ve told you that before.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Sexy Architect just sounds so much more fun,” He mused, his voice low so no one would overhear. “What’s for lunch this time, got any to share?” He peered over my shoulder into the container.
“Lasagna. And cannoli. And there’s none for you.”
“Fine, fine. But tell him to pack extra for me next time.” Carlos said as he continued walking. “See ya outside, lover boy.”
After heating up my leftovers I went to find Carlos outside. He was sitting in our usual spot for this site, off in a corner where a sliver of the park down the block was visible. I sat down next to him and began to eat. The leftovers had the same rich taste that had convinced me to eat three plates.
“Wow, that smells good,” Carlos commented. “You weren’t kidding when you said he could cook.”
“Mhmmm,” I hummed as I swallowed my food. “Going to the gym again? Your arms are looking good.” I decided to change the conversation before Carlos convinced me to give him a bite.
“Thanks man, glad you noticed,” Carlos beamed. “I’ve been going since Rachel and I broke up to take the edge off things. Glad it’s finally starting to show.” He paused for a second. “Though, apparently some developer bought the building and is going to put one of those cheap five-over-ones on the lot.”
“Why don’t you switch to my gym?” I offered. “It’s not too far from your place, which I still haven’t been to by the way.”
“You wouldn’t mind? And look dude, I don’t want you judging my setup. Plus the princess hates visitors.”
“Nah it would be fun. And I forgot about that cat, can’t believe Rachel convinced you to keep it.”
“Yeah, she always liked me more though.”
We spent the rest of lunch eating quickly, occasionally complaining about the day. The break was never enough time for a proper conversation, not unless you wanted to leave your food half-eaten. A few minutes later, we separated. I dropped the container off at my truck, my belly full but not stuffed enough to keep me from quickly gulping down the two cannoli I had brought. Sighing, I looked up towards the building rising above me. We still had a lot of work to do.
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After three days, my lasagna had disappeared despite me trying to make it last through the weekend. leaving me back to eating takeout that was becoming increasingly depressing. I had started to miss Marco’s cooking just as much as I missed Marco. I pulled out my phone to text him, taking a picture of the lo mein I had picked up a few minutes ago.
Lasagna’s gone and my chef flew to Denver :(
I set the food down by my computer and logged in, my game still open on the main menu from last night. Carlos and the other guys were supposed to be gathered outside the Ice Caverns of Loroth in a few minutes.
My guild had a strict no-phone policy during raids. Thirty minutes in, my phone buzzed and I broke it without thinking.
That fast? Leo I’m not sure my oven has enough room to make you food for a week
I texted back, letting my character stand uselessly in the middle of a fight.
I guess I’ll just have to come over more often then.
Maybe once the job out here finishes up I’ll be able to see you more
“Leo?! What are you doing!? I need backup with these baby remorhazes!” Austin shouted into my headset.
“Sorry sorry, thought I heard someone at the door,” I lied.
“He’s probably texting his new boyfriendddd,” Carlos mused. Suddenly the voice chat erupted into laughter and heat rushed to my face. I tossed my phone onto the couch and gave my full attention to the ice centipedes currently beating Austin’s ass. Damn things were way too fast for it not to be some kind of bug.
We finally cleared the dungeon at 1AM. I immediately grabbed my phone off the couch and replied to Marco.
Sorry, was in the middle of a raid
Luckily he responded pretty quickly.
Oh yeah? I thought I had finally scared you away
You? Never.
Good. By the way, I was talking to Tom and Paul earlier and invited them over for dinner when I’m back. Wanna come?
I had almost forgotten the two giant men Marco had been talking to at the pool. They swerve clearly important to him so being asked to meet them felt like a bigger step in our relationship than just a dinner date. I chuckled when I realized I might not be the only one to overeat.
Will there be leftovers I can take?
If I can keep Tom away from em sure
Then deal.
Perfect. See you on Tuesday at 7. Bring your appetite, Paul and Tom know how to pack it away
See ya then. I’m gonna get some rest
Good night Leo :)
I walked to the bedroom and got ready for bed, ready to spend the rest of the weekend at the gym and farming drops for my paladin.
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Tuesday night I rushed out of the gym after a quick shower and got in my truck. I hadn’t really had time for a workout, but knowing I’d be eating with Paul and Tom made me want to burn some calories to make up for what was bound to be another heavy meal. By the time I got to Marco’s place, it was already 7:15. I waved hello to the concierge and went up to the fifteenth floor. I knocked, and a burly man I knew to be Paul answered the door as if it were his own place.
“So you’re the guy Marco’s been talking about!” He said with a soft smile. “I recognize you from the pool, I’m Paul.” His body was blocking most of the doorway. The pink polo he was wearing fit snugly across his chest and belly, highlighting the curves of his thick figure in a way that seemed deliberate. Up close, the muscle beneath his size was more noticeable. His shirt sleeves stretched around his biceps, digging into the layer of fat that was softening his muscles. He pulled me into a hug before I had a chance to say hello, his body soft against mine until I felt the solid mass underneath.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Leo,” I said as he patted me on the back before pulling away.
I watched as he walked back towards the kitchen, his wide hips filling out his chinos and heavy ass bouncing with each step.
“Leo!” Marco called from inside the kitchen as I walked into the apartment. “Glad you can make it. Dinner isn’t ready yet, I’m adding the finishing touches right now. Feel free to help yourself to the food on the island.”
In the kitchen Marco was bent over the stovetop, too focused on whatever he was cooking to turn around. The kitchen island had a spread of Southern food—fried green tomatoes arranged neatly on a plate, a basket of biscuits with honey, jam, and butter, and a bowl of pimento cheese with a baguette sliced up. Stooped over the food was Tom, dressed in an ill-fitting dark green polo. It was stretched tight to the point his large chest and arms seemed like they’d tear the fabric at any moment. The shirt was unable to contain the size of his gut, leaving his underbelly exposed and the skin pressed into the cold edge of the island. He seemed too distracted by the food to care. His jeans were struggling even harder, as if he had painted them onto his thick thighs and expansive ass. He turned to look at me, dark chest hair rising out of his shirt’s unbuttoned collar and crumbs of biscuit in his beard.
“Look who decided to join us!” He chuckled, his whole body shaking from the laugh. He extended his hand out as I walked over. “I’m Tom, you must be Leo.” I shook his hand, the grip was firm. Somehow he was even more imposing up close. He checked me out without embarrassment. “Marco wasn’t exaggerating. You’ve got a hell of a frame.”
From the stove, Marco glanced over his shoulder. “Tom.”
“What? It’s a compliment.”
I watched as he took a biscuit, spread both halves thickly with pimento cheese, smothered it in honey, then sandwiched a fried tomato inside before handing it to me. “You have to try this,” he said casually as honey oozed out of the sides of the improvised sandwich. Marco looked at us again, his eyes narrowing slightly before he turned back to the stove without saying anything.
I looked down at the thing in my hand. It was less an appetizer and more an attempt to get as much flavor as possible in a single bite.
Tom raised an eyebrow. “What? You afraid of it?”
“I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to eat it.”
“Quickly,” he said. “Before the honey drips out.”
I took a bite. It was overwhelmingly messy, but despite the appearance, the tomato, honey, and cheese balanced each other well. I quickly ate the rest before any cheese and honey could drip onto my button-down. Tom looked at me pleased.
“Seems like you liked it after all,” he said with a devilish grin. “You shouldn’t doubt me next time. You think I got this big eating bad food?”
“Tom…” Paul said with a sigh as he grabbed a bottle of wine from a cabinet. Tom turned his attention back to the food. “Want some wine Leo? I can pour you a glass.” From the way the two men moved around the apartment, I was starting to think “friends” didn’t tell the full story of their history with Marco.
“Sure, that sounds great.” Paul handed me a full glass. I took a sip when Tom handed me a plate with three more of his loaded biscuits.
“Here ya go,” he said with a smile, my eyes moving back down to his underbelly spilling out of his shirt. I wondered if the choice of shirt was purposeful. I picked up one and took a bite, the rich taste coating my mouth. He put his hand on my shoulder and said “Too good to only have one, right?” His touch was gentle after the firmness of his handshake. He let go and returned to the food. There was something charming about confidence and ease he held himself with, as though eating big and taking up space was what he was meant for.
“Leo don’t let Tom spoil your appetite, the food is just about done,” Marco chimed in, still over the stove.
“Aw come on, how come you get to have all the fun?” Tom asked with a laugh. Paul gave Tom a cold stare while Marco almost dropped his spatula into the pot he was stirring. Whatever joke I had missed, neither of them seemed interested in explaining it.
“So Leo, tell us about yourself. Marco said you work in construction?” Paul asked, clearly trying to redirect from Tom's comment.
“Yeah, I've been doing it for five years. It’s a good job, keeps me in shape and pays the bills,” I responded before eating another biscuit. “Other than that, I go to the gym and play this one RPG with some friends online. Life feels like a routine sometimes but I kind of enjoy that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Paul and I have fallen into our own after we got married,” Tom responded, still eating. “My dad always said life was meant to be comfortable.” He patted his belly.
“Yeah, sometimes I do wish for a little more spice you know?” I said as Paul walked over to Tom and gave him a glass as well. The shorter man wrapped his arm around Tom’s waist lovingly.
“Tom’s always been my spice, haven’t you baby,” Paul said fondly.
“Something like that,” Tom responded, covering Paul’s hand with his own where it rest on his belly.
“Well speaking of spice, the food’s ready. Take a seat, I’ll bring it over,” Marco chimed in, wiping his hands off on the apron. His eyes flicked toward the last biscuit in my hand. “Hope everyone is still hungry.”
I smiled back before finishing off the last biscuit and walking to the table with Tom and Paul following me. We all sat down, the chairs creaking under the weight of the two big men. Tom’s belly spilled forward, his hands rubbing it as if he was trying to settle the food he had already eaten in preparation of what was next. Marco brought over the food, taking multiple trips from the kitchen to the table as he sat down a variety of plates and bowls to share from family style.
The spread of food was impressive: baked macaroni and cheese that was still sizzling from the oven, a bowl of collard greens flavored with pork, sweet potato casserole dotted with darkened marshmallows, and a beautifully cooked pork roast drizzled with a sweet-looking glaze. I saw Paul and Tom stare greedily at the food and I couldn't help but do the same. Marco seemed to enjoy the stares of his dinner guests; they were a sign of a job well done.
“Well go ahead, dig in everybody,” Marco said, seeing we had been awaiting his permission.
Tom went straight for the mac-n-cheese, Paul to the sweet potatoes. I let Marco cut me a large slice of the pork while I plated some collard greens. By the time everyone had passed the dishes around the table, our plates were full. I felt more comfortable seeing Paul and Tom’s plates, as if the mountains of food in front of them somehow excused the excessive portions I had served myself.
At first, no one talked much, letting the noise of forks hitting plates fill the air. Tom and Paul dug straight into their food, eating with vigor. I followed suit, cutting off a slice of the pork roast. It was cooked to perfection, tender and juicy enough for the rendered fat to coat my tongue. It didn’t take me long to finish off the entire piece Marco had given me. I turned my attention to the mac-and-cheese after watching Tom’s eyes widen with his first bite.
“So y’all have known each other for a while, right?” I asked, still curious about their background. Marco’s answer when I had asked at the pool felt intentionally vague.
“Oh yeah, Marco and us go wayyyy back. Back when life had harder edges,” Tom responded. “We met at the gym actually, across town back where I lived when Paul and I had only been dating for a year. I was the one that showed him how to workout properly in the first place, can you believe he used to run cross country?” Tom chuckled to himself before shoving a big forkful of food into his mouth.
“Yeah yeah, in college I was a shrimp,” Marco said, waving off Tom’s teasing. “Never too late to make a change. I’m nowhere near as fast now, though.”
“I always wondered how you stayed so thin while cooking such good food,” Tom said while scrapping up the last of his mac and cheese.
“Fast metabolism,” Marco said with a shrug. “Trust me I was eating pasta almost every night growing up, never gained a pound.”
“Yet here I am well over a hundred pounds heavier than when we first met,” Tom said with a chuckle.
“He also has self control, something you never learned.” Paul glanced down at Tom’s plate making my eyes follow. He’d already finished most of his food. My eyes went back to Tom as he started to retort. Something about him was very compelling. Despite his weight he wasn’t trying to hide anything; he looked completely comfortable in his own skin, proud of his size. Every movement took up space, every laugh shook his chest and belly, and yet he carried himself with the same confidence I’d seen from bodybuilders at my gym. Somehow he’d kept his swagger even after putting on enough weight to make most people disappear inside themselves. My attention started to slip as I focused more on Tom’s big body than the conversation.
“Leo, did you hear me?” Marco said.
“Oh sorry what?”
“He asked if you needed seconds,” Tom said while scooping more mac and cheese onto his plate. I looked down at my own and saw it was empty. I felt my face blush as I realized I had been eating mindlessly while staring at Tom’s chest. Looking at Paul and Marco, it didn’t seem like they had noticed my distraction.
“Oh sorry, yeah that would be great. Can you pass the sweet potatoes?”
“Thanks again for the delicious meal Marco.” Paul said as he scooped some of the casserole onto his plate before passing it to me. Each time on of us piled another portion onto our plate Marco smiled almost unconsciously.
“Of course, I only want the best for the people I care about,” Marco said with a smile. “And please, feel free to eat as much as you want. I’m not expecting to have leftovers.”
“For real, this is delicious.” I chimed in with food still in my mouth. “Could I get some of the mac-and-cheese?” Tom’s own appetite had loosened me up a little. Plus, I figured if I needed to get my fair share of the food before Tom cleaned house.
“Careful,” Tom said as he handed me the dish. “That’s how he gets ya,”
“What?” I mubled with food in my mouth.
“Well I’m just happy people are enjoying the meal,” Marco quickly interjected. “I’ve never cooked Southern food before,”
“I never would’ve guessed,” I laughed.
The conversation started flowing more now that people had eaten a good amount. Tom, Paul, and Marco spoke to each other in a language that made it clear they’d grown quite comfortable with each other. I mostly sat back, listening to their stories of wild nights out and the peculiar dinner spots Marco seemed to have a knack for finding. Eating felt easier than joining the conversation. By the time another story ended, I went to take another bite and realized my plate was empty again. Without thinking, I reached for the pork roast and started serving myself thirds.
I waited for a lull in the conversation before finally working up the nerve to join in, my stomach starting to feel pleasantly full from mostly sitting back and eating.. “So how long have you and Tom been dating?” I asked Paul.
“We’ve been together for about 8 years, married for four,” Paul said, flashing his gold wedding band on his ring finger. “I’m a lucky man. Though I’ve had to keep this one out of trouble more times than I can count,” Paul continued before setting his fork down to place a hand on Tom’s bicep.
“Oh like you can talk,” Tom added. “Leo, one time in Greece Paul refused to take the cabs because ‘That’s not how the locals travel.’ I finally gave in to his anti-tourist fantasy and there we are, waiting in line to rent vespas. We must’ve looked ridiculous,” Tom was struggling to contain his laugh while he continued.
“Oh please, Tom, anything but this story.” Paul said with his face in his hands.
“So we finally get up to the guy and the rental guy takes one look at us and frowns. I’m sure there was a weight limit on those things, but the guy saw our money and just asked us to sign the waiver. Well, Paul climbs up on the vespa and immediately loses control of the steering, almost driving right off the road and into a ditch! I will never forget the look on that vendor’s face as I barreled after the goofball. Needless to say, we took cabs from that point forward.”
“Oh like you haven’t had your fair share of embarrassing the three of us, Tom,” Marco said, his grin widening. “We’re out on a halloween bar crawl downtown and Tom has had like six martinis.”
“It was eight,” Tom corrected, already looking away from the table.
“Whatever — well we’re walking to the next bar, Paul and Tom dressed as green and pink fairies, their wings hanging on by one strap from dancing too hard, when we pass this cop. Tom walks right up to him and says ‘Great costume!’, the officer tries to say something before Tom cuts him off and bets he can bench press him. Tom practically dwarfs the guy so he looks a little worried. Next thing I know Tom is on the ground begging him to lay across his chest. Turns out the officer was real, luckily he just asked us to go home but damn Tom, you could’ve been arrested!”
“Look, Leo, he was cute. I wanted to show off,” Tom said flexing his bicep.
“Oh yeah, you looked soooo hot with your big body shoved in that tiny dress. I still can’t believe you found something that fit you,” Marco continued sneering.
“Hey,” Tom said with a grin. “I was getting a lot of compliments that night.”
“That’s because you were practically naked!” Paul retorted. “I had to stop someone from taking a picture while you were bent over the bar.” Tom just grinned and took another bite of pork.
“I think I can top that one,” I said, finally jumping in. Everyone was trading embarrassing stories, and I figured the safest contribution I could make was at my own expense. “I was out drinking with my friend Cody and got absolutely hammered. Cody was trying to drag me home while I kept running off like a dog who saw a squirrel. So we’re walking through a park near the bars when we pass this fountain. Before Cody could react, I sprinted full force towards the fountain, jumped in and started trying to climb it. Apparently I kept insisting I was thirsty. Turns out the sculpture wasn’t built to support a two-hundred-pound man. The little fish mouth I was holding onto broke and I went straight into the water. I walked the rest of the way home completely soaked.”
“Hold on — you mean to tell me you’re the reason they’ve had that fountain shut off for the last year and a half?” Paul laughed. “That park is right next to our house!”
“Damn, wish I could’ve seen that,” Marco said with a smile.
“In my defense, I was very thirsty,” I said, shrugging, Paul and Tom laughing at my expense. I caught Marco looking at me with a soft smile. I relaxed back into my chair. I finally didn’t feel like I was trying to catch up on the years the other three had spent together.
We continued eating, talking, and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. I was starting to understand why Marco enjoyed these two so much. After Marco told a story about some client that refused to understand that you couldn’t put a pool on the roof of a townhouse, I went to take another bite and found my fork was empty. I wasn’t sure when I had finished my third plate, but my stomach was going to have to make room for another scoop of the creamy baked noodles. There was one big serving left. Tom and I both glanced at it before catching each other’s eye. He had a greedy look on his face.
“Want to split it?” I suggested.
“Oh go for it, big guy. I’ve already done enough damage,” Tom said, patting his gut.
“Are you sure, I really don’t mind—”
“Go for it Leo, trust me Tom has had way too much mac-and-cheese in his life,” Marco said with a chuckle, pushing the dish in my direction with a smile.
“You’ve definitely made sure of that,” Tom replied. I scooped out the rest on my plate. “Though you’re right. Leo definitely needs it more.”
Watching Tom give me the last of the macaroni surprised me. For someone who had spent the whole dinner eating as much as he did, I hadn't expected him to give it up without a second thought. I dug into the mac-and-cheese, savoring each bite before realizing I was the only one still eating. As I polished off the last of it, Marco stood up.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he said walking towards the hallway. “When I get back I’ll get dessert ready. Hope everyone saved room.” He looked right at me with a smile as he said that last part. I felt a little self-conscious but reminded myself Marco wasn’t the kind to judge. If anything, his comment made me want to eat a big portion in spite of him.
“So…” Tom said leaning back. “He’s cooking for you a lot these days, huh? That usually means things are getting serious for Marco.” Tom continued, still rubbing his gut slowly. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“Tom…” Paul said, sighing.
“What? I just want to make sure Leo is ready.” Tom said with a shrug.
“I mean, I guess,” I said plainly. Marco and I had only hung out four times now, but things felt like they were moving faster than they normally did for me. “We’ve only known each other for a month and it’s been a while since I was in a relationship, but I’m enjoying the way things are going.” I said smiling, trying to be casual and not show how hard I had fallen for Marco. “He’s been really nice to me, you know?”
“Oh I’m sure, Marco definitely knows how to take care of a man,” Tom said, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Just be careful.”
He paused, his eyes stopping at my torso for a second longer than I expected. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, suddenly aware of how tight it had gotten from all the food. “You’re just young, ya know? You never realize how serious things are getting until one day you’re standing next to some fat guy at the altar and crying your eyes out like a big baby.”
“Hey, I wasn’t that fat at our wedding,” Paul retorted.
“Your size fifty-two tuxedo would beg to differ,” Tom chuckled. “Though I guess I can’t talk. I was wearing a fifty-eight! I doubt I’d get that thing over my shoulders these days.”
Before I could respond, Marco returned from the bathroom. “What did I miss?” He asked, seeing Paul and Tom beaming at each other.
“Oh not much, we were just telling Leo about our wedding,” Paul replied quickly. “Do you remember my aunt Josephine?"
“You mean the older lady who followed me around all night?” Marco responded while walking to the kitchen and opening the freezer.
“That’s the one, I’ll never forget when she drunkenly asked if you were available later,” Paul chuckled. “I think she thought you were an escort!”
“I’m going to keep taking that as a compliment,” Marco said before heading over with a large dish from the oven and a tub of vanilla ice cream. “Alright, here comes dessert. Peach cobbler and ice cream.” He set the glass dish on the table and peeled back the foil, my mouth watering from the smell.
“Well, if I’m going to eat dessert, I might need to get more comfortable,” Tom said, as he stood up before stretching. His tight shirt had ridden up even more, revealing just how full his belly had become from dinner. My eyes lingered on his exposed underbelly as his hand tried to pull the shirt down unsuccessfully. “Mind if we move to the couch? This thing needs some breathing room.” He gave his stomach an affectionate pat, looking more proud than embarrassed.
“Sure, go ahead and I’ll serve some up,” Marco responded. I followed Tom and Paul to the couch and sat down next to Tom. He leaned back and stretched his big arms behind both me and Paul, claiming the entire couch without meaning to. My eyes drifted back to the way his stomach settled into his lap, spilling over his thighs without the slightest hint of self-consciousness. Luckily Marco broke my gaze before anyone noticed, handing me a sizable portion of cobbler with two scoops of ice cream on top, already melting into the warm dessert. I already started eating, trying to distract myself from Tom as Marco brought the couple their bowls before sitting down himself with a noticeably smaller portion.
As I ate, I found myself easing into the couch and spreading my legs like Tom had. It felt good, my full stomach appreciating the extra room I was giving it. The evening was settling into something comfortable and our voices softened as we continued to share stories. Marco was keeping an eye on everyone’s bowls, quietly refilling them without interrupting the conversation. I settled into a rhythm, chiming in between mouthfuls of the tasty cobbler.
The stories drifted from vacations to work, then to terrible bosses and old roommates. At some point Marco disappeared into the kitchen to warm the cobbler again, returning with another round for anyone who wanted more. By the time Marco was handing me a third bowl, my stomach felt tight as a drum but I kept eating, too focused on Marco’s anecdote of the time he had snuck onto a yacht in Mallorca to care about the growing discomfort.
Occasionally, Tom would glance over at my bowl before smiling to himself. At some point my bowl was full again. I wasn't even sure when Marco had refilled it. I ate another spoonful while talking about the time one of my coworkers had fallen asleep in the crane cabin. While Tom and Paul talked about a family trip to the mountains, Marco inched closer to me on the couch, his hand finding its way to my thigh. I started to eat slower, my stomach pressing out further and further, stretching my shirt until the fullness started to give way to real discomfort. By the time I finished, I could tell that the last bowl was a bad idea.
When Marco got up and then tried to hand me a fifth bowl, I had to refuse.
“Oh I think I’m good,” I said trying not to wince as I sat up to reject it.
“Looks like you found his limit, Marco,” Tom said before trying to grab the bowl for himself.
“You sure Leo? If you don’t eat, Tom's gonna finish it all himself,” Marco asked.
“I’m good, if I eat anymore I think I’ll explode.” I held my stomach, the dull pain starting to sharpen. I had really overdone it tonight, too distracted by the conversation to realize just how much I had eaten. Marco finally handed the bowl to Tom before sitting down next to me and putting his arm around my shoulder. I tried to focus on his touch.
“More for me!” Tom exclaimed before happily accepting another serving. The big guy was a bottomless pit.
I leaned into Marco, feeling comfortable enough around Tom and Paul to display some affection. The three of them kept talking as I sat overstuffed and groggy, happy to fall into the background. Marco pulled me closer, as if he knew how I was feeling without me telling him. I smiled and half-listened to the conversation, more focused on Marco’s thumb tracing around the back of my neck than the words that were being spoken. Marco’s affection was making everything else fade into the background. I caught myself almost drifting to sleep when Paul stood up.
“Well, it’s getting late. We should probably head out,” Paul explained. He reached his hand out to Tom and helped him off the couch, the big guy grabbing his gut with the other hand as if he needed to lift that part of himself separately.
Tom grunted loudly as he stood. “Oh man, I might've overdone it tonight.” He balanced himself carefully, as if this was a normal occurrence for him.
“Tom, you overdo it every time you come over,” Marco said.
“Yeah, yeah, well you make it too easy,” he chuckled before turning his attention to me. “Well, Leo, it was great meeting you.”
I tried to stand up to tell them goodbye but quickly realized that was a bad idea and sat back down. “Sorry, I uh, might’ve overdone it too,” I said sheepishly, my face turning red.
“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said, walking over to hug Marco who hadn’t struggled to lift himself like I had after eating a much more reasonable amount tonight. “Stay comfortable, I know how you’re feeling.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Tom said before giving Marco a bear hug. “I know I had to.” Paul elbowed him in the side. I couldn’t see Marco’s face but I swore he gripped Tom a little harder after the comment.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He means pacing yourself,” Paul said glaring at Tom. “Unlike him. C’mon Tom, we gotta get you home before you try to eat anything else.”
The two big men waved goodbye and walked out the apartment as Paul mumbled something to Tom.
I looked at Marco, still leaning into his shoulder. He smiled. I nestled my head into the crook of his neck and closed my eyes, letting myself listen to his heartbeat. After a couple of minutes, he slid a pillow into his lap and I settled my head onto it while he ran his hand through my hair slowly. Marco and I sat in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet and each other’s comfort. Neither of us seemed in much of a hurry to break it.
“I might need to get to bed soon,” Marco said, moving his hand out of my hair. “You sure you're gonna make it home? You almost fell asleep.”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” I said with a smile looking up into his eyes. They were dark and dreamy, full of care and affection. I started to feel more at home here than I did in my own apartment as I stared up at him. It was funny how quickly I had grown close to Marco.
Finally I stood up, the pressure in my belly slightly eased but not enough that standing felt easy. Marco got up as well, walking towards the kitchen.
“Before you leave, I have something for you.” He grabbed a bag from the fridge, filled with what I already knew to be food for me to take home. “I made you a few things earlier today, just some chicken cutlets with pasta and red sauce I had frozen from the lasagna. Kinda figured there’d be no leftovers with Tom around.” He raised the bag towards me while scratching the back of his head with a soft smile.
“Hah, I’m gonna have to take some of the blame,” I chuckled, the laugh hurting my sides from how full I still felt. “Thanks, Marco. I had a good time tonight. Tom and Paul are a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Marco said as we walked to the front of his apartment. “So... when do I get to see you again?”
“Just let me know when you’re free.”
“Will do, cutie. Try to make that last a couple of days, I wasn’t able to make as much as I wanted to,” he said, opening the door.
“No promises,” I said with a wink before the door closed behind me. I shifted the bag onto my shoulder and rested a hand against my full stomach as I walked toward the elevator. I felt satisfied in more ways than one.
