As an extension of acts of service, Minho’s love language was also food. Preparing food, cooking for people, making sure the members (Jisung especially) ate well, baking sweet treats and delicious dinners—they were all things he did regularly to show that he loved people, to show that he cared. And lately it seemed that maybe he also liked receiving the same kind of love.
It was becoming a bit of a problem, though.
-
Or, after getting endlessly spoiled by Jisung when they get into a relationship, Minho starts to show it in the form of extra layers of softness added to his frame. He finds he really doesn't mind it (maybe even likes it).
There were a few established facts that Minho knew to be true no matter what way he looked at them; the earth was round, the universe was too vast to comprehend, and Lee Minho liked to spoil people he loved.
Minho was used to being the one to spoil people, not the other way around. He hadn’t been in many relationships since being an idol made it difficult to date, especially when you were as gay as Minho was, plus, he’d had his sights set on Jisung since the moment he’d met him, so that complicated things a bit further. But when he was in a relationship, or he liked someone, as with Jisung, he liked to spoil and take care of them. Even before he and Jisung got together, he put as much effort as possible into spoiling and taking care of him—always making sure he ate, making sure he slept well, buying him his favorite desserts and treats. It was how he functioned. Acts of service was his love language when it came to showing love.
So when Jisung began to turn the tables soon after they officially labeled their relationship as “boyfriends,” and started to spoil Minho in return, he wasn’t sure how to take it. It was strange—not in a bad way, but in the way that he had no idea how to take it, too used to taking care of others to be able to process such a change. However, deep down, he had a craving to be cared for like Jisung cared for him.
It started subtly. Jisung came to Minho’s dorm most nights and they would watch anime or whatever else they felt like until they were too tired to continue, or things turned more heated. The first time Minho noticed something different was when Jisung stopped by like he usually did and instead of being empty-handed like he usually was, he was holding a grocery bag full of snacks—all Minho’s favorite.
Minho didn’t question the new gesture. In fact, he was elated, because he was out of his favorite pudding and Jisung had gotten both vanilla and chocolate. He’d thanked Jisung by peppering his cheeks in kisses and proceeding to go through two containers of the pudding.
That wasn’t the last time it occurred, and sometimes Minho already bought snacks in advance to make sure they had something for the evening, and Jisung would enter the room with a bag from the convenience store and a heart-shaped smile on his face, so excited to share his treats with his boyfriend. Logically, Minho would have accepted what Jisung brought and not worried about anything he bought himself. But most times this happened, it seemed like they went through both sets of snacks anyway.
Or, more accurately, Minho did.
Jisung started making sure Minho was eating regularly more often, too. A quick call, a text, takeout brought to the dance studio when he was practicing late at night. A request to go out to have lunch together, when in most cases, Minho would either eat a protein bar for lunch or have no lunch at all.
As an extension of acts of service, Minho’s love language was also food. Preparing food, cooking for people, making sure the members (Jisung especially) ate well, baking sweet treats and delicious dinners—they were all things he did regularly to show that he loved people, to show that he cared. And lately it seemed that maybe he also liked receiving the same kind of love.
It was becoming a bit of a problem, though.
Struggling to fit his legs through a pair of jeans, Minho released a frustrated huff. With his physique, finding pants that fit properly was already a struggle, the material sticking to his thighs and calves like cling wrap. Recently, though, it had become a much bigger problem. The pants he was desperately trying to pull up had fit almost perfectly a month ago, but now he was struggling to get them over his hips.
When the jeans finally made their way over his ass, he let out a heavy sigh. He’d changed his workout routine to be more similar to Chan and Changbin’s, which was definitely adding more muscle to his already strong thighs, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Jisung’s newfound interest in spoiling him with food lately had something to do with his body’s changes as well. They weren’t major changes by any means, still subtle enough that most wouldn’t notice them. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them himself if it weren’t for how damn tight his pants were.
Wiping his forehead from the slight amount of sweat that had accumulated there, he let out another sigh and went to button the jeans. With a frown, he pulled the flaps together, frown deepening when he struggled with that too. That was something new. Even before he started putting more work into his thighs, they’d been naturally big, tearing the inseams of many pairs of pants he owned. However, he rarely had to deal with waistbands that were too tight.
His cheeks burned as he pulled the waistband together and sucked in, finally getting the button to close. Looking down, he could see how his tummy pushed out over the waistband a bit, pinched in just underneath his belly button where most of the new pudge sat. He turned to survey himself in the mirror and the blush on his cheeks deepened at the sight of his own reflection. Thick thighs that rubbed together even more than usual, strong muscle straining the fabric, especially above the knee when he flexed. The waistband didn't look as tight as it felt, but it still emphasized the slight love handles he was sporting, and the definite tummy he had.
He’d never had abs like the other members, preferring to keep a softer tummy like Changbin. Sometimes it was flatter than others, especially when his physical trainer got him on watching his weight, and sometimes it was softer, protruding a little over his pants, folding when he sat, rounding out just a little when he ate a good, hearty meal. The Minho he looked at in the mirror, though, was softer than any version he had ever seen. There was a decent amount of softness around his navel in addition to the love handles, causing him to look like he did on the occasions where he ate too much. His chest had been increasing in size too, partially due to the chest and shoulder workouts Changbin had recommended, but there was also an undeniable softness to them.
Tentatively, he reached up and cupped his pec, taking in the way it filled out his hand, giving it a little squeeze. His breath caught in his throat, heart skipping a beat.
Sliding his hand down, he spread his fingers and ran an open palm back and forth over his tummy. It was velvety soft, with just a small trail of hair traveling down from his belly button to where it disappeared under his waistband. When he gave his tummy a squeeze like he had done to his pec, the warmth in his cheeks spread down his neck and his skin tingled. It reminded him a bit of Jisung’s cheeks, a similar softness to when he pinched or poked them. So he did the same thing to his tummy, squeezing the soft flesh, poking it, petting over it like a curious cat. All the while, his body burned hotter, breath hitching as he felt himself up, subtle spikes of arousal pricking at his stomach.
With a final squeeze, he let his hands fall to his sides. Gaining weight always gave him mixed feelings in the past. In the k-pop industry, skinny was beautiful. It was expected of idols to be stick thin, to conform to a near-impossible beauty standard that caused unhealthy eating and exercise patterns. Minho was not immune to this issue. He was well aware of it, had been since he joined, but that didn’t make it any easier to navigate. For a while because of that, he’d made sure to keep himself as thin as possible while still maintaining his strength. Any form of weight gain made insecurities boil up inside of him, like a reminder that he wasn’t good enough, that he would never be good enough.
But now, as he looked in the mirror, those same insecurities didn’t seem to appear like they usually did. Maybe it was because he was older, more mature, more accepting of the natural changes of his body. Maybe it was because he’d never really taken the time to explore his body when it was softer, too consumed with the desire to be absolutely perfect. And now that he had, merely out of curiosity, he’d discovered it wasn’t so bad after all. That maybe (more than maybe, judging by the redness still tinting his cheeks and the tips of his ears), he liked it a little bit.
Perhaps even more so, it was because it was evidence that he was taking care of himself, evidence that he was working out well, resting well, eating well. And more than all of that, it was evidence of the way Jisung had been spoiling him lately, evidence that he was loved and cared for by his boyfriend.
With that thought, he went to grab his shirt, pulling it over his head so that he wouldn’t be half naked anymore. The whole reason he was getting dressed like this in the first place was because he had a dinner date planned with Jisung. Otherwise he’d be using his free time lounging around in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Even if he had to go out, he would’ve done so in his lounge wear. The only events worth dressing up for were dates with Jisung.
Tucking his shirt in, he winced a bit at how tight the waistband was around his pants. He really should have tucked his shirt in before buttoning them, but what was done was done.
He pulled a slim, black belt through the loops in his pants, not because he needed it, but because he knew it made his outfit look nice. Following that, he clasped a silver chain around his neck and slipped a couple of rings onto his fingers. Jisung liked when he wore jewelry—Minho never missed the way his eyes stayed glued on his fingers when they were adorned with rings.
Giving himself one final once-over in the mirror, he hummed. The shirt he’d picked was a loose button-up that concealed the roundness of his tummy for the most part, but when he turned to the side, he could still see the way it curved out slightly, stretching out the fabric.
Once again, he was surprised to find he didn’t mind it.
Jisung was already in the living room waiting for him when he exited his room. Every time Minho saw him, it was like his heart stopped in his chest, beating too fast for his body to handle. His face immediately lit up the moment Minho met his gaze, soft cheeks rounding out as he smiled. One of his nice jackets was pulled on top of the same white t-shirt he’d been wearing nearly every moment since he found out Minho liked it. Baggy black jeans covered his slim legs, a sharp contrast to the pants that were practically plastered on Minho. He looked comfortable and beyond beautiful, just like he always did.
“Hi, jagi,” Jisung said in greeting, walking up to meet Minho’s lips in a soft kiss. “You look nice.” He rubbed a hand over Minho’s side, fingers running over the curve of his love handles, right where Minho’s own hands had been just moments before.
“Thank you, Hannie,” he said with a soft smile. “You look good too.” His eyes flicked down to the bare skin of Jisung’s collarbone, gaze trailing over where a faint amount of purple still lingered, mostly covered by concealer. “I went a little high last time.”
He brushed his fingers over the mark just to watch Jisung shiver, eyes glimmering with mirth when Jisung glared at him.
“Yeah you did, this was a bitch to cover up.”
Even though he was huffing, Minho knew he really enjoyed it. Jisung liked when he got a little possessive, when he marked him up enough that the stylists had to warn them to be more careful. Minho couldn’t help it, especially with how delicious Jisung’s skin looked all the time.
“Oops,” Minho said, batting his lashes in faux concern. “I’ll be more careful next time, sweetheart.”
Jisung rolled his eyes with a small laugh, clearly onto his ruse. “Mhm, sure you will.” Stepping back, his expression shifted to eagerness. “Are you ready now?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. "Cause I’m definitely ready.”
Minho smiled fondly, nodding. “Yes, I’m ready. Where exactly are we going, though? You still haven’t told me that.”
Jisung pursed his lips and hummed as they walked out the door. “Uh, well, I still wanted to keep that a surprise! I just wanted it to be fun. My little treat, you know?”
“You can’t still treat me when you tell me?”
“Hyung!” Jisung whined, pouting back at him. “It’s just fun, don’t you think? Besides, I wanted to try something a little different today… It’s nothing special, the surprise isn’t even really, either. I can tell you if you want.”
Laughing, Minho shook his head as he got into the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, jagi, you can keep it a surprise, I don’t mind. I think it will be fun. You’ll just have to make sure you tell me where we’re going.”
As he pulled his seat belt over his waist and adjusted his position, he was keenly aware of how his jeans dug into his waist and his thighs spread out on the seat. He squeezed the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. The more he thought about this whole situation, the more odd he felt about it. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain, a switch that made him enjoy his body like this.
Deciding he was satisfied with leaving it at that, he tried not to focus on the topic anymore, instead focusing on Jisung and talking to him about his day. Neither of them had a particularly busy day, a small gap between schedules allowing them some much needed rest. Jisung had gone to work on some songs in the studio while Minho had stayed home all day, apart from a brief gym visit in the morning. As much as he liked performing and dancing, days like that were some of his favorites. They always made him feel a little more human.
“Stop here,” Jisung instructed, right as they approached the restaurant they would be going to.
He instantly recognized the place; one of his favorite Japanese restaurants, but one that he hadn’t been to in a while because of his busy schedule and because before, he’d limited himself on trips there due to the fact that he could eat his weight in their food. Rubbing absentmindedly over his tummy, he decided that maybe that wasn’t so bad.
“This is perfect, Jisung-ah,” he said with a bright smile.
Jisung smiled back even brighter, sending Minho’s heart spinning in somersaults. “I know it’s not some new or fancy place but I know you like it here and haven’t been able to come in a bit so…and it’s my treat! So don’t even think of paying, okay?”
Chuckling softly, Minho leaned over the console to press a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips. He would never get over how endlessly thoughtful and adorable Jisung was. Neither of them were people who needed grand gestures to show their love, both preferring to show it in softer, subtler ways, just like Jisung had been doing lately. The fact that Jisung knew he loved this place and hadn’t been able to come in a while spoke volumes. “It doesn’t need to be some big fancy place. Trust me, I’m happy. I love you, Sungie.”
He placed his hand on Jisung’s thigh, gently caressing it with his thumb, melting at how Jisung blushed. “I love you too, hyung.”
It was a random Wednesday in the middle of the week because their schedules weren’t typically dictated by the traditional work week like others were, so the restaurant wasn’t too busy. They still wore their hats and face masks for good measure, but most people in that area wouldn’t bother them either way. Jisung led Minho back to a secluded corner in the restaurant, one away from prying eyes where they didn’t have to worry as much about being themselves.
Before Minho even had the chance to look at the menu, Jisung was ushering their waiter over with a wave of his hand, rambling off an order of appetizers and a white wine for them. The gesture made Minho’s stomach flutter, his heart skipping a beat—it didn’t help that Jisung already knew exactly what appetizers he would choose, specifically ordering ones that were his favorite. It made his face warm in a pleasant way.
“You know, I can order for myself,” Minho said, just a little shy that Jisung was taking extra charge.
Scoffing, Jisung shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I know that, but I wanna do it for you. Let this be a night for you, yeah? You’re always taking care of me and doing so much for me. I wanna do that for you, too.”
Lips curling up, Minho looked down bashfully. “Alright, Sung-ah. I’ll let you.” To be completely fair, he would let Jisung do literally anything he wanted to. If he showed up in his room and asked him to pack his bags, get in the car, and move to Mars with him, he would.
Jisung puffed out his chest, a smug grin on his face. Minho fucking loved him.
The waiter arrived soon after with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Minho insisted on at least pouring it for them if Jisung was going to do everything else for them, pouring Jisung a smaller amount since they both knew he’d get sleepy quickly with it.
As Minho took the first sip, savoring the bright, mildly citrus flavor, he looked over the menu, trying to make up his mind on what he wanted. He’d had a few different things there before; their ramen was a classic; warm, filling, and flavorful. But today he was craving sushi, eyes stuck between a few different rolls. It was hard to decide if he wanted to order something on the spicier side with more intense flavors or something more mild and fresh. His eyebrows furrowed together, a pout forming on his lips.
"Hyung,” Jisung said with a slight laugh, “I can see the gears turning in your head from here. You can get more than one if you want.”
“That’s not it, I just can’t decide which one or ones I want ,” he huffed. A hand tilted his menu back, Jisung leaning over to look.
“Which ones are you looking at?” Jisung asked.
Pout deepening, Minho gestured to a few different ones on the menu that caught his eye. The most he’d ever gotten before was two, and even that had been a bit much for him, leaving him uncomfortably full for the rest of the evening. “I’m too old to be making decisions like this.”
“You’re acting like you’re 80, not in your twenties. But fine, I’ll decide for you. I said I wanted to take care of you tonight anyway, so don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got it.” Smirking slightly, he ushered their waiter over again, obviously having decided what Minho was going to order for him. Once again, Minho felt his cheeks heating, his stomach filling with an embarrassing amount of warmth.
He went to take another small sip of his wine, but nearly choked when Jisung listed off not one or two of the rolls he’d been looking at, but all three of the ones he’d pointed to, including one for himself. Neck heating with shame and something hotter, a little more pleasant than shame, Minho tongued his cheek and drank more of the wine. Jisung looked too pleased with himself as the waiter left with their order, but Minho just leveled him with an incredulous stare.
“I didn’t say all of them, Jisung,” he said, cheeks flaming.
Jisung just shrugged, but Minho noticed that his cheeks were tinted a little pink. “That way you can try them all, though. Makes sense, right?” Nothing said about how Minho didn’t have to finish them all, about how he could pick and choose and take the leftovers home.
Minho thought about his plumper belly, the way the seams of his pants were barely holding on when he sat, the amount of snacks Jisung had been shoving into his arms lately, the fact that they were getting appetizers along with Minho’s ridiculous order of sushi. Swallowing thickly, he rested his hand on the side of his tummy, feeling where his belt cut into him.
“Mhm, sure,” he said, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly at Jisung.
He was beginning to feel like there was more to the way Jisung was acting than he was letting on. Curiosity tugged at his mind, the urge to know intensifying the more he thought about it. Reading Jisung was as easy as reading a book to him, and usually his intuition was right about the younger, so chances were, he was right about whatever this was. It was obvious that Jisung did enjoy taking care of Minho, that he enjoyed spoiling him. But Minho wondered if it went a little deeper than affection, if he enjoyed seeing the results of his spoiling just as much.
Conversation soon distracted him from his ponderings, too focused on Jisung’s animated way of talking to even remember what he had been thinking about, even when their appetizers came to the table. The appetizers could have been an entire meal themselves, with an array of too much food, including things like chicken skewers and gyoza, all which had Minho’s mouth watering the second they hit the table. The savory scents of meat and spices hit his nose, stomach growling in response. His face flushed as Jisung grinned, pushing the gyoza towards him.
“Dig in, hyung.” His voice was sweet, soft, the deepness of it warm in a way that had Minho reaching out with his chopsticks immediately, stomach twisting with heat.
One thing Minho had learned about himself over the years was that he was a distracted eater. If he was focused on something else, like his beautiful boyfriend sitting across the table from him, he would barely notice how much he was eating. That, coupled with a glass of wine, which he was already halfway through, made it easy for him to pack away more food than he would normally.
There had been something brewing inside of him since he’d gotten ready earlier, when he’d struggled to get his thick thighs through his pants, when ran his hand over his pudgier tummy as he looked in the mirror. Something brewing that made his body feel a little warmer in a way that wasn’t due to food or alcohol. Something that, subconsciously, made him want to eat more.
It didn’t help that Jisung seemed to want him to eat more, too.
All were reasons why he managed to polish off the majority of the appetizers they’d ordered by the time their real meal was brought to the table, a comfortable fullness settling in his stomach already. He’d nearly forgotten how much Jisung had ordered for him, the amount looking even more now that he wasn’t quite as hungry as he’d been when they first arrived. But it did look good, and he knew it would be good from his past experiences there. Even the simpler sushi rolls they had were vibrant and colorful and so flavorful it was easy to get lost in them. And Jisung looked so expectant sitting across from him, a little excited too, if Minho really thought about it.
“Which one do you think you’ll try first?” Jisung asked, picking up his chopsticks to take the first piece of his own food, a dragon roll, one of which Minho had gotten too.
His stomach rumbled again.
“Hm…” he hummed to himself, feeling a little overwhelmed, but eager. “I think the same one you got.”
“Ahh, we’re matching, then,” Jisung exclaimed, smiling widely before popping the piece in his mouth, cheeks filling out as he chewed. Cute.
Following Jisung, Minho picked up the first piece with his chopsticks, groaning softly at the taste when it hit his tongue. Across the table, Jisung stiffened a bit, eyes locking on Minho as he chewed. A shiver went down Minho’s spine, the first bite settling in his stomach more noticeably with Jisung’s eyes on him. He washed it down with a sip of wine, lifting his eyes to meet Jisung’s, who quickly glanced off to the side, occupying himself with his own food. Interesting.
Despite the amount of appetizers he’d filled his stomach with before, making his way through the first roll was surprisingly easy. Either Minho had been extra hungry, or his appetite had grown. Judging by the way his belt was digging into his stomach even more sharply, he concluded it must’ve been the latter. Honestly, he was feeling full already, probably more so from the tightness of his clothes, but he had a strong desire to keep going. To just eat. The food was good, he didn’t get to do this often, and Jisung was treating him to this, paying for all of this food. Why let any go to waste?
It was a little embarrassing to realize he’d finished his first order before Jisung had even finished it, a couple pieces still left on his plate when Minho finished his. He seemed to take notice though, eyes locking on the empty plate before flitting up to Minho, pupils dilated just a little. Licking his lips, Minho shifted a little in his seat. Even more embarrassing than the fact that he was going through food like this was how worked up he was getting. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with the fullness in stomach and the tightness of his pants, it had become more obvious. He was getting turned on. By eating. By eating more than Jisung, by Jisung ordering him so much, by the extra weight he’d gained.
He started on the next roll.
It was obvious Jisung was watching him. Even when he wasn’t looking, he could feel his gaze on him, on his hands when he picked up his chopsticks, on his lips when he opened his mouth, when his tongue darted out to lick away a bit of sauce. Minho’s whole body was burning, tingles running down his spine with each new bite he took. The embarrassment he’d felt before was fading, turning into something different, a sort of confidence he didn’t think he had, amplified by the arousal swirling in the pit of his stomach.
“Let me pour you more wine, hyung,” Jisung offered when he noticed Minho’s empty glass, taking it to fill up with more of the white wine.
Minho hadn’t even noticed he’d finished it, too focused on getting through his second roll of sushi. With a smile, he took back the glass as Jisung handed it to him. “Thank you, Sung-ah. Are you having any more?” he asked, tilting his head.
“No, I’ve had enough,” he replied, giving Minho a soft smile.
Minho hummed around the rim of his glass, the warmth of the wine adding to the heat in his stomach. He hadn’t been paying attention to the sensation before, but now he was and fuck. He was full.
He carefully caressed the crest of his tummy where it was a little bloated, pushing out against his hand. His jeans were so uncomfortable it made him grimace a little. Realistically, it was probably best to quit while he was ahead. Finish his meal there, leave with leftovers and a stomach just bordering on uncomfortably full. He and Jisung would watch a couple episodes of anime and he would go to sleep from his food coma.
But as he looked at what was left, his mouth watered. Jisung seemed to be content to stay in the restaurant too, happily chatting away about a new song he’d been working on, not noticing Minho’s internal dilemma.
Fuck it.
Setting his chopsticks down, he dropped his hands and pulled the end of his belt loose, unbuckling it so that it was looser around his tummy. He released a relieved sigh, more comfortable already, then pushed the waistband of his pants down until it rested over the curve of his tummy. Huffing, he gave his side a little pat. The way his belly seemed to push forward, fullness even more obvious than before now that he had some room to breathe, didn’t go unnoticed to him.
And none of what he did went unnoticed by Jisung. With a stomach unbothered by his waistband, Minho went back to his food, but quickly noticed how Jisung went silent, lips a little parted as he stared at him. Minho blinked at him, a picture of faux innocence. “What, Sungie?” he asked, unable to hold the smirk that twitched at the corner of his lips.
Jisung swallowed audibly, wetting his lips. “Nothing, hyung. Go on.” He gestured in front of him, nodding down at the food still left on the table. “Thought you said you wanted to try them all, you haven’t even touched these.”
Instantly, Minho was back to feeling shy, cheeks burning, ears a vibrant red. To anyone else, it would have seemed like Jisung was just encouraging him to follow his original plan of giving the different kinds a try. But to Minho, who knew Jisung like the back of his hand, who understood him on such a deep level he could hardly understand it sometimes, he understood the underlying meaning, even if Jisung didn't understand it himself. Finish, it said. Don’t this go to waste.
God. Minho wasn’t sure if he could, but the arousal swirling in his stomach coupled with the wine making him just a little buzzed as he made his way through the second glass gave him enough motivation to try. And he needed to see Jisung’s reaction. So he ate, chewing slowly to still enjoy the taste of the sushi on his tongue, the combination of savory, spicy, and tart melting in his mouth as easily as ice cream. With each piece that he swallowed down, his tummy grew fuller, stuffed more than he’d ever experienced before.
Somehow, though, rather than the fullness deterring him, it became a strange sort of motivation. He was so worked up from it, half-hard in his jeans, a little lightheaded, breathing quick and shallow (and it was hard to tell whether that was from how turned on he was or how full he was). He’d always stopped himself before he got to this point, even when he was eating his favorite foods or pudding. It always seemed like there was a reason to stop, a reason to hold himself back, and distantly he thought there probably was, but at this moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. A haze was over his mind, shifting his desires from mere curiosity to the urge to fill his stomach to the brim.
Jisung’s gaze didn’t help matters. Dark eyes burned holes into him, intense and hot even as they attempted to have a regular conversation. There was an undeniable tension in the air though, one that Minho couldn’t have possibly been imagining. If anyone had seen them, they’d know immediately. The air sparked with it, static electricity crackling around them.
“Jisung,” Minho groaned at some point, dropping his chopsticks next to his plate. “You sure you don’t want some of this?” He tried to shift to a more comfortable position, spreading his legs a bit, but that didn’t seem to ease any of his fullness. Rubbing his tummy, he leaned back—it was still soft under his navel, but the top was firm, packed tight with food and two glasses of wine.
“No, I’m good,” Jisung chirped. “You don’t have to finish it, just ‘cause I’m paying. But…you know sushi is really only good when it’s fresh.” There was something unreadable in Jisung’s expression, but whatever it was made Minho shiver.
He really couldn’t argue with that logic. And he certainly couldn’t argue with Jisung. But he might as well have told him to finish his food. Minho’s cock twitched and his neck burned.
With a small groan, he adjusted his pants again and leaned forward, picking his chopsticks up with shaky hands. He groaned around the next bite—he was fucking stuffed, stomach a little achy, but somehow the food was still mouth watering. He licked the chopsticks clean easily, going in for another piece, but Jisung beat him to it, taking the chopsticks from Minho’s grasp and picking up a piece for him instead. Feeding him.
Minho’s expression morphed with surprise and Jisung just laughed, a late, airy sound that seemed a little strained. “I said I’m treating you, right? Let me take care of you.”
Nodding wordlessly, he opened his mouth wide, allowing Jisung to feed him. Like that, he really couldn’t stop, not unless Jisung decided he was done. It was a simple thing, feeding him, but somehow it still felt like he was handing over a level of power he wasn’t used to, Jisung taking the reins and literally doing everything for him.
He let out a small groan of pleasure as he ate, intending on teasing Jisung, riling him up, but Jisung pulled back a little instead, frowning slightly. “Too much?”
Instead of answering, Minho grabbed Jisung’s wrist, guiding the chopsticks back to his mouth. Jisung’s eyes went wide and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Oh fuck,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the sound of Minho’s blood rushing in his ears.
He didn’t know why he did that, he really should’ve stopped, but he wanted to finish, so bad. He was in a state where he craved it. Craved the fullness, the extra curve of his tummy, the food in his mouth. He craved it, he needed it.
When Jisung finally set the chopsticks down, Minho was close to bursting. Using both hands, he cupped his tummy and gently massaged it, trying to ease some of the tightness. His face was fifty shades of red, arousal and embarrassment combining in a delicious cocktail that spread through his whole body. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to eat that much.
With labored breaths, he glanced down, taking in the state of his tummy. The shirt he wore was stretched over it, the fabric no longer looking loose like it had when he’d first put it on. Jeans pushed down, belt undone, unbelievably full, to the point where it was noticeable—he must look utterly debauched. A sight to behold. He certainly felt it. And he couldn’t even imagine what it would look like once he stood up.
“You did good, hyung,” Jisung said, voice sounding a little fuzzy through Minho’s food-drunken stupor. The praise did things to him, the words going straight to his dick. “It makes me happy when you eat well.”
Happy, huh? Minho thought to himself, almost laughing. It certainly made him feel something, but he wasn’t sure happiness quite defined it. “Definitely ate well,” he said, followed by a groan as he tried to sit up a bit. “I just ate my fucking weight in food. Definitely ate—” he huffed, a little out of breath. Just from eating. “Definitely ate too much. Overdid it.” He patted the side of his tummy and watched as Jisung’s eyes traveled downwards to take in the state of him.
“Happens to the best of us,” he said with a strained laugh.
“Like you had nothing to do with it, ordering all of that just because I couldn’t decide. What the hell.” There was no bite to his words—he just smiled fondly and laughed a little, trying not to let the motion jostle his tummy.
“I never said you had to eat it all, you did that yourself, hyung. Silly hyung,” Jisung teased, tone just a hint sultry as he reached across the table to poke the tip of Minho’s nose.
Minho’s breath hitched. Jisung was acting like he was totally innocent, which he clearly wasn’t, but he still wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d eaten it all of his own will. Pushed himself to finish for the gratification of tasting more, of seeing Jisung’s reaction as he filled his tummy to the brim. His head spun a little.
“Well…it was good,” was his only defense. Any other explanation would end up humiliating him more than he already was. Not that he minded the humiliation, really.
He was discovering a lot of new things about himself today.
“I’m glad!” Jisung exclaimed, the teasing lilt in his voice completely gone. “It really does make me happy, hyung. I like seeing you eat well, and have fun. You look so cute when you’re eating.” He giggled, foot coming to poke Minho’s ankle under the table.
The contact made goosebumps climb up his leg, a shiver going through his body even though the contact was meant to be innocent. He was still on edge, still overly sensitive and hyper-aware of every touch, every look Jisung sent him. He was still full, tummy still rounder than it had ever been even when he was at his softest, an outward display of how insatiable Jisung made him. Fuck, he wanted his hands on him now. He wondered if it would be weird to ask him to rub his tummy. Would he say yes? Jisung never had any inhibitions when it came to touching Minho, running his hands over every inch of his body, placing kisses everywhere from his lips to his calves. And when he thought about it, he had been giving his belly a little extra attention lately; hickeys around his navel, gentle bites to soft flesh, a hand on his waist, cheeks pressed to his tummy when they cuddled.
Oh. Jisung really did have a thing, didn’t he?
It was a good thing it seemed like Minho did, too.
“Are we ready to go? I was thinking maybe we could take a walk around for a bit afterwards, if you’re up for it,” Jisung suggested, eyes flicking down to Minho’s distended tummy.
Minho pursed his lips, scratching the side of his stomach. Walking in this state of fullness did not seem ideal, but maybe a light walk would help his digestion. And he didn’t want to be done with his date just yet. He needed his Jisung time and lately he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of it, especially on a planned date. So with a deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m up for it. It sounds nice.” It did sound nice, even if he wasn’t being fully truthful.
The way Jisung beamed made it all worth it. “Yes! Let’s go then.”
They got their bill and just like he said, Jisung paid for everything, not letting Minho even tip. It wasn’t like money was really an issue for either of them, but the gesture mattered the most.
Once their bill was paid, Jisung stood up and Minho prepared himself to stand as well. Pushing himself up from the table, he groaned softly, biting his lip. While sitting down, he could at least lean back and it was harder to notice how much he’d eaten, even if his level of fullness was already extreme. When he stood though, his belly seemed to push out further, his gluttony obvious to anyone who would’ve looked at him. He had a solid potbelly, the bloat making him appear at least a couple months pregnant. The waistband of his pants was still digging into him, too, pushing his tummy out more, emphasizing his love handles. If he pulled his pants up and did the belt as tight as he had before, it probably would’ve formed two little rolls out of his belly.
Resting his hand over the most distended part, he huffed out a breath.
“Mm, I can tell you really enjoyed yourself, hyung.”
The closeness of Jisung’s voice startled him, causing him to draw in a sharp breath. His lips brushed right up against his ear and a hand came to join Minho’s on the crest of his tummy. Jisung’s thumb rubbed circles across it and Minho melted as his fingers curled, nails scraping gently across his tummy, causing a shiver to go through Minho’s whole body.
Swallowing, he let out a breathy chuckle. “Y-yeah. Really stuffed myself this time,” he responded quietly, Jisung’s touch setting his entire body alight.
Jisung’s breath hitched at his statement, and then with a singular pat, his touch was gone, his hand slipping away. “I can tell, baby.”
He smirked, and Minho was close to screaming in the middle of the restaurant.
They headed out, hands brushing together as they walked, each gentle touch causing his skin to tingle, shivers going down his spine.
The restaurant was in a nice part of town—flowering trees lined the streets, filling the air with their sweet perfume, and a few small shops with cute window displays filled up the space past the restaurant. The road was fairly quiet with only a few cars driving down so it was easy to enjoy the silence. They normally walked without speaking because the main point of a walk like this was to enjoy each others’ presence.
However, Minho was having a little trouble smelling the roses, so to speak.
Each step reminded him of how badly he’d overdone it, his stomach grumbling at him for filling it so much. He hadn’t even bothered to fully redo his belt because of how tight his pants were already, and the buckle jangled with every step. It made him blush furiously, and it didn’t help that he could sense Jisung’s gaze on his tummy every once in a while. He didn’t doubt that Jisung liked it, but that fact just made his state worse, heart racing under his burning looks.
“There’s an ice cream shop on the next block, wanna stop there?”
Words said moments before disaster. Minho’s destruction. The end of him, the final straw.
Okay, maybe he was being a bit dramatic. Just slightly. But how could Jisung even think of suggesting something like that? He saw how Minho struggled, he witnessed him glut himself at dinner like he would never eat again. He felt the curve of Minho’s belly under his hand, the firmness of it under a soft layer of fat—he knew how full Minho was.
And he was suggesting ice cream.
Maybe more insane than Jisung’s suggestion, though, was the way Minho’s mouth watered at the thought. The air was warm and smelled like the first hints of summer, and ice cream was delicious. Minho had a sweet tooth. A lot of people thought Jisung was the sweet tooth between the two of them, and granted, they both liked sugar, but Minho was the weaker vessel out of the two of them. Jisung knew this. He took advantage of it whenever he could, buying Minho pudding and candy and all sorts of pastries, sometimes as bribery to get his way or to get Minho to do something for him, sometimes just as a treat. As was already established, Jisung liked to spoil him.
Maybe ice cream wouldn’t be so bad. Just a little couldn’t hurt, right? A little on top of his already packed stomach.
Arousal kicked in Minho’s stomach, dick twitching in interest.
“Um, sure. That—we could do that.”
He could never tell Jisung no. And now that he had started this whole…eating to max capacity thing, apparently he’d lost all self control. Had it been hanging on a thread this entire time? Waiting for the right moment for Minho to give in, to stop holding himself back? How thin had the barrier been that was keeping him away from stuffing himself at any given opportunity?
Fuck industry expectations. He was probably going to develop a real belly after this.
Jisung led them down the street, clasping their hands together briefly while there was no one around. Minho wished they could be public with their relationship, and wished he could shout his love for Jisung from the rooftops. Still, he was grateful for moments like these, if even they still had to be careful. And perhaps that was part of what made Minho not mind the weight he had gained recently and added to his desire to eat well for Jisung. Not only was it a physical sign of the power Jisung had over him, it was also a display of Jisung’s love for him, strong enough to show up on his body in the form of thicker thighs, a soft, round tummy, and a few stretch marks where the weight went the most.
Minho’s love language was acts of service, but apparently it was also doing whatever Jisung wanted him to. He wouldn’t force himself to do things he really didn’t want to, but it was hard to not want to do things that involved Jisung. This thing though, was for his own pleasure as much as it was Jisung’s.
Maybe he was a masochist.
At the ice cream shop, Jisung got a simple cone with strawberry ice cream, while Minho got a cup of mint chocolate chip. It was easy to forget about his bloated tummy and how uncomfortably full he was when he licked the ice cream off his spoon, the mint refreshing and almost relieving to his stomach. Watching Jisung lick the ice cream from his cone was also a nice distraction. His mind was already desperately horny and seeing Jisung’s pink tongue lave over the ice cream, licking melted bits from his lips, was only adding to the pool of arousal.
Minho started to feel the effects of too much food again as they walked back to the car, his tummy heavy and straining against his clothes, almost weighing him down. He huffed a little as he walked, out of breath in a way that was completely abnormal for him, a dancer for fuck’s sake. Finishing his ice cream was slow going, the dessert melting in his cup, dripping off the spoon when he lifted it to his lips. He didn’t miss the way that Jisung’s gaze pinned him down as he licked the cream off his spoon, tongue darting out to lick a drop from his lips.
Glancing over, Minho held eye contact and licked the spoon clean, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips at the way Jisung’s cheeks reddened and his breath hitched. The least he could do was tease Jisung back a little bit. Minho hoped he was getting just as riled up as he was.
By the time they were nearing the car again, the rest of Minho’s ice cream had completely melted and he was starting to wonder if he could fit anything else in his stomach anyway. Staring down at it, he sighed. Should he…?
Noticing his dilemma, Jisung nudged his shoulder and gestured down to the ice cream (more accurately a milkshake now), with his eyes. “It’s okay if you can’t finish, hyung.” Eyes moving lower, lower, Jisung licked his lips. His hand snaked around Minho’s back, fingers landing on the curve of his waist. “You look pretty full already.”
The rush of arousal that hit Minho caused him to nearly trip over himself, head filled with cotton, vision swimming with it. He shook his head in response to Jisung’s suggestion, lifted the ice cream to his lips, and gulped it down in one go, Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. He could almost feel the way his tummy expanded, shoving his waistband further down, pushing against Jisung’s fingers. With a gasp, he finished the last drop, breath coming out in shallow pants.
“Oh. Fuck,” Jisung murmured, grip tightening on Minho’s waist.
Minho looked down at him through hooded eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Jisung’s pupils were blown wide, lips parted, cheeks red. His eyes flitted to Minho’s lips and then he lifted his hand, cupping his cheek. “Here,” he said softly, thumbing Minho’s bottom lip to wipe a bit of ice cream off. Then, bringing his thumb to his own mouth, he licked the cream off, holding Minho’s gaze.
Minho’s breath hitched and went a little cross-eyed. “Jisung,” he whispered, airy, voice barely even recognizable to his own ears. He needed to get home, urgently.
“Fuck, hyung. Let’s get back to the car,” Jisung responded, his voice clipped and a little gravelly. He squeezed Minho’s waist deliberately, fingertips digging into his love handles so hard they would probably bruise. They were completely out in the open, available for any scrutinizing eyes to see, but Minho couldn’t bring himself to care.
As soon as they made it back to the car, doors closed and locked, Jisung was on him, hands cupping his belly, putting pressure on it that sent a delicious sting through his middle. “Sung,” Minho gasped, unable to get another word out before Jisung was kissing him hard, sucking on his upper lip, licking into his mouth.
Their lips slotted together, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece, two parts of a whole. Jisung’s tongue explored his mouth, tasting him like he had his ice cream cone before. His lips were soft and pillowy, slick with his own saliva and Minho’s, tasting like strawberry ice cream. Minho was overwhelmed in the best way, arousal pooling in his gut, lips tingling as Jisung nipped at them like he wanted to eat him whole. Minho would let him.
Minho moaned softly against Jisung’s lips as he ran his hands along the underside of his tummy, squeezing where the flesh was still soft and doughy, not stretched firm by how stuffed he was. Fingers shimmied past Minho’s waistband, curling around the hem of his shirt and tugging up so the fabric was pulled loose from his pants. Without the shirt tucked in and in the way, it felt like his belly pushed forward more, but at least he could breathe a little better. Aside from Jisung’s continuous kisses.
Jisung slipped his hands under Minho’s shirt, caressing his tummy, sending sparks straight through Minho’s middle. Blunt nails scraped across his skin, causing goosebumps to erupt across his tummy, the hairs on his arms standing on end. At the same time, their lips slid together, the slick sounds filling the car.
Jisung’s hands continued to roam, traveling up to cup Minho’s chest, thumb grazing the nipple as he squeezed it. Minho’s breath stuttered, gasping into Jisung’s mouth as he massaged his chest. He was even more sensitive there now, a simple touch causing his head to spin.
“Shit, hyung, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” Jisung asked, pulling away for a minute just to trail his eyes over Minho. “Can’t believe how perfect and soft you are.”
He grabbed Minho’s small love handles and squeezed them like putty, kneading them with his fingers. Minho’s breath caught in his throat and he let out a choked moan. “Jisung—f-fuck, knew you had something for this,” he said with a breathless chuckle, but was cut off with another moan when Jisung patted his tummy and gave it a little jiggle. “ Shit.”
“Seems like you do too,” Jisung said with a cocky grin, reaching down to palm Minho through his tight jeans.
Minho groaned, hips bucking up into Jisung’s hand. He hadn’t noticed he was already almost fully hard, cock straining against his pants. “Fuck—we’re—we’re in public, someone’s gonna see. Wanna go home. I want you to take care of me properly, Hannie. You’ll help hyung when we get back, yeah?”
He placed a hand over one of Jisung’s on his belly and directed it to rub over thickest part of the curve, the gentle pressure eliciting another soft moan from him. Any pressure felt like so much, he was so full, but it felt so good at the same time, a reminder of how much he’d eaten, how fucking bloated he was.
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly and he wet his lips, then gave Minho’s belly a little smack. Minho’s cheeks heated and he stifled a burp with the back of his hand. “Alright. Let’s head home, then. I’ll take care of you.” With a smirk, he rubbed over Minho’s belly one more time, then went back to his seat.
Minho swallowed and adjusted himself. His pants were so tight, hugging his plush thighs, digging into his tummy, putting pressure on his poor, aching cock. His belt was already undone, his shirt already untucked, so he reached down, sucking up just a bit to give himself more room, then popped the button on his pants. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jisung’s jaw go slack, lips parting with a quiet gasp. Minho smirked to himself. It was more comfortable this way. Turning Jisung on was just a bonus.
The ride back could never have been fast enough. Moments after he started driving, Jisung reached over and started rubbing his belly, massaging and caressing it in a way that was loving and gentle, but turned Minho’s brain into static and fuzz. His tummy was already sensitive normally, but in this state each touch sent a wave of arousal crashing into him. And Jisung seemed to know exactly how to touch him to get him riled up.
Tension hung thickly in the air, palpable in a way that had Minho shifting in his seat every couple of seconds, blinking to try to focus on the road and not the heat in his stomach, or Jisung’s hand rubbing circles on his tummy. Every bump jostled his stomach, his breath hitching each time it happened. Minho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching.
They went to Minho’s dorm and immediately made a beeline for his room, barely getting the chance to kick their shoes and socks off at the front. Jisung slammed the door behind them and Minho hoped the others got the message, otherwise they would be wanting to put on headphones pretty soon.
Jisung began undressing Minho the moment the door was closed. He tore off his shirt first, tossing it somewhere random on the floor, then he pushed his hands inside his pants to shimmy them down. Minho couldn’t help laughing a little, even though he was ridiculously turned on himself. “So this is really a thing for you, huh?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows.
Jisung groaned, bending his knees so he was directly facing the now prominent curve of Minho’s tummy. “You have no idea,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as he tugged Minho’s pants down. His biceps flexed as he pulled, Minho’s thighs jiggling with the force he used. “How’d you even manage to get these on?”
Minho clenched his fists, shaking his head. “It was a struggle.” There were red lines along his tummy from the waistband and lines up and down his thighs from the seams.
“I bet,” Jisung said, biting his lip. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane lately with these thighs— fuck— and this tummy, holy shit.”
He ran his hands up Minho’s legs as he stood back up, a shiver wracking Minho’s body as the muscles in his thighs twitched. “You look like I actually knocked you up,” Jisung muttered, settling his hands on Minho’s tummy again.
Minho shuddered, swallowing thickly, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. “Fuck. I kinda do.” He glanced across the room at Jisung’s floor-length mirror, taking in his appearance. He’d already seen how soft he was looking lately in his own mirror before they went out, but the sight of that coupled with his bloated tummy made him gasp, jaw dropping. He looked so round, filled out and thick, making him look like he’d gained 10 more pounds than he actually had. Like Jisung had knocked him up.
“You do like this?” Jisung asked suddenly, breaking Minho out of his daze. “You’re not bothered by it at all, right? You can tell me if you are. But I should remind you, you do look so fucking sexy right now.”
Minho laughed, tossing his head back a bit. “What do you think? You think I ate that much cause I didn’t like it? That I pushed myself to finish even though I’ve never eaten this much in my life ‘cause I didn’t like it?” He wet his lips, more turned on the more he thought about it. “Today’s for discoveries I guess, cause apparently I love stuffing myself.”
Jisung whimpered, hands flexing on Minho’s waist. “Oh fuck. Hearing you say it.” He gulped audibly. “That’s so hot. Seriously. Fuck. Let me show you, hyung. I promised I was gonna take care of you.”
He started backing Minho towards the bed and when his knees hit the edge, he fell back with a small “oof.” Jisung got between his legs, eyes roaming over his body hungrily. He ran his hands over Minho’s bloated tummy, kneading into it like dough, the pressure causing Minho to release another small burp. Face burning, he covered it with both his hands, embarrassment coiling in his stomach.
Jisung giggled and reached forward to pry his hands away. “Stop that, it’s cute. My big kitty ate so well.”
“Mmh,” came Minho’s response, muffled from biting his bottom lip.
“You want me to take care of this, yeah?” Jisung wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Minho’s cock, causing him to jerk, a moan slipping past his lips. “I’ll take good care of you baby, shh.”
“I think—” he choked down a moan as Jisung flicked his thumb over his cockhead. “I think I’m too full for you to fuck me. Or to fuck you.” His own statement sent chills down his spine, his dick twitching in Jisung’s hand. The thought was hot, riding Jisung until he was out of breath just from overeating, tired even though his thighs had gotten stronger lately. But the thought that he was too full for that in the first place was even hotter, dizzying in fact.
“That’s okay, hyungie. I can think of other ways to make you feel good.”
Minho nodded and scooted back on the bed so he was in a more comfortable position, legs no longer dangling off the bed. Even lying down, the gentle curve of his tummy was still visible and the sight made his head spin.
Jisung pulled off his own shirt, tossing it into the pile with Minho’s discarded clothes, then climbed onto the bed between Minho’s legs. Minho’s eyes dragged over his body, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, his tiny waist with just a layer of softness over his tummy, the way the muscles in his biceps and forearms rippled as they moved. His hands twitched at his sides, aching to touch.
Crawling over him, Jisung slotted their lips together, hands roaming over Minho’s torso, groping at the layer of pudge on his tummy and waist as he went. Minho reached up at the same time, his touch following the dips and curves of Jisung’s relaxed muscles and the curve of his waist, drawing out sweet moans from him.
As Jisung’s hands trailed up to his chest, Minho’s lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss at the same time. His fingers danced over Minho’s skin, grazing over his nipples, pulling moans and soft groans from Minho’s mouth. He cupped Minho’s pec, pressing the pads of his fingers into it, and Minho’s back arched.
“So perfect, jagi,” Jisung muttered against his lips before pressing his mouth to Minho’s again, taking his breath away. One hand played with Minho’s softened chest while the other went up to cup Minho’s cheek, a tender reminder in the midst of Minho’s entire body being on fire.
“Hannie,” Minho groaned, hips bucking up when Jisung flicked his nipple. The sensations surrounding him were overwhelming—Jisung, Jisung’s lips, his hands, his scent, the fullness of his tummy, his hard cock resting against his stomach. And still, he was insatiable. “More. Making me impatient.”
“More?” Jisung asked, smirking against his lips, then pulling away. “You’ve had a lot already, hyung.” With a grin, he patted the side of Minho’s tummy, eyes glued to slight jiggle the action produced.
Minho groaned, rolling his eyes even though the pat sent another spark of arousal through his gut. “You little shit,” he snapped playfully, no real bite behind his words.
Laughing, Jisung gave a loving caress to the spot he’d patted before. “I’m sorry, hyung. You’re just fun to tease. Your ears look so cute, all red.” He leaned down, pecking Minho’s lips, melting the pout right off. “I’ll give you more, I promise. But I gotta worship you a little first.”
He scooted back down the bed so that he was half-laying between Minho’s thighs, face directly above Minho’s chest. Through hooded eyes, Minho watched him, taking in his lust-filled expression. His breath ghosted over a nipple, the buds perking up from the stimulation, then his tongue darted over it before his lips wrapped around it. Moaning, Minho’s body twitched, toes curling.
“ Hah, fuck,” he sighed, reaching up to tangle a hand in Jisung’s fluffy hair. The younger groaned around his nipple, the sound sending vibrations of pleasure through Minho’s whole chest.
A string of spit connected Jisung to Minho as he pulled off with a pop, eyes glazed over. “Love your tits so much, hyung. Love how big they’ve gotten, shit.” He dove back down, this time taking the other nipple in his mouth.
Minho gritted his teeth, tugging at the strands of Jisung’s hair to ground himself. “It’s ‘cause of you,” he responded, breathless. He could easily take credit for some of them at least, with how much he’d been working out, but it was easier, better, to give the credit to Jisung. “All of this is because of you.” His softer tits, his bigger thighs, the plushness added to his tummy. All for Jisung, because of Jisung.
“ Fuck,” Jisung whined, dropping his head to rest against Minho’s chest, like hearing that statement was too much to bear. “You’re so hot, what the fuck. I love you so much.”
“Love you, too, Su— ah,” Minho moaned, cut off when Jisung moved further down, mouthing at the upper part of his belly, just above his belly button.
Sucking the doughy flesh between his teeth, his hands slid over Minho’s sides, coming down to grope his love handles again. Minho’s eyes glazed over, body buzzing, ablaze with pleasure and arousal. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock as Jisung bit down, teeth digging into him like mochi. His hands kneaded him like dough, tongue laving over the bite mark he left, just like he had done to his ice cream cone. Treating Minho like he was a dessert.
“You’re so soft, what the fuck,” Jisung mumbled, using one of his hands to massage Minho’s middle as he dipped his head to suck marks around Minho’s belly button. “I can hear your tummy grumbling. Still can’t believe you ate so much, hyung.”
Minho moaned, a high-pitched, breathy sound, as Jisung used his love handle to give his tummy a little shake. It was still firm, packed with food, but it jiggled all the same. “Nghh, fuck, Hannie.”
A look passed over Jisung’s face as he hummed, eyes narrowed slightly, then he dipped his thumb in Minho’s belly button and grabbed a handful of tummy, using it as leverage to jiggle it again. Minho’s lips parted and he tossed his head back against the pillows. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly.
Jisung cursed under his breath. “Sometime, I’m gonna ride your tummy.”
Just as Minho was able to manage a weak, “Please,” Jisung was leaning down again, dipping the pointed tip of his tongue into Minho’s belly button.
“Ahh, h-holy shit,” Minho choked, breath coming out in stuttered pants.
Jisung whined a little, creating a circle around Minho’s tummy to squish it together as he licked into his navel, sucking on the plushness around it. Swirling his tongue around, he groaned, causing Minho’s breath to hitch. Jisung’s breath came out in heavy pants, little moans leaving his lips. Blinking some focus back to his eyes, Minho realized that Jisung was grinding against the bed, rolling his hips in desperation.
“So hot, hyung,” Jisung whined, giving a sharp nip to Minho’s lower belly before diving back in, sucking and licking at his navel like he was eating him out. Minho could’ve never imagined this was something he would enjoy, but fuck, he was so hard he was lightheaded, dick pulsing where it laid untouched against his tummy.
“Fuck, Sung-ah, please,” Minho groaned, so turned on he felt a bit pathetic.
Jisung lifted his head, gaze meeting Minho’s. A shiver went down Minho’s spine at the sight of him—lips cherry-red, drool running down his chin to drip onto his tummy, his hair wild and out of place, a few strands sticking to his forehead. Utterly debauched just from playing with Minho’s tummy.
Two strong hands gripped Minho’s thighs, and even though Jisung’s hands were bigger than his, they looked small in comparison to his thighs. “You’re driving me insane, hyung,” Jisung practically whined, licking his lips, chest heaving as he looked down at Minho.
Minho groaned, eyes fluttering shut. His tummy was tinted red and splotched with bruises from Jisung’s mouth, and the press of his fingers on his thighs would probably leave bruises, too. Minho felt dizzy. “Then do something about it, Hannie,” he breathed, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched Jisung shudder.
Jisung blinked at him a couple times, the gears turning in his head. Minho tilted his head, blinking back at him, curious.
“Can I fuck your thighs?”
Minho inhaled sharply.
“Please? I know you said you’re too full for me to fuck you but please, I’ll make it good, so good hyung.”
Spots danced in front of Minho’s vision, the feeling Jisung’s request created so visceral it made his body jerk. He gulped down a lump in his throat and nodded eagerly, biting his bottom lip. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you can fuck my thighs, jagi.”
Jisung practically preened, excitement bubbling up in his expression. “Thank you, fuck, I’ve been wanting to fuck your thighs for so long, you have no idea. Oh my gosh.”
Arousal swirled in Minho’s stomach, his cock aching—he was so painfully hard. It wouldn’t be a surprise to him if he came untouched. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more turned on in his entire life and he had Han Jisung as his boyfriend. “Don’t know why you’ve never asked,” he said, moving to sit up so he could turn over onto his hands and knees.
He let out a groan as he shifted, the slight ache in his tummy another reminder of his fullness. Jisung watched him like a hawk, cheeks reddening at Minho’s small sounds of discomfort.
“Wow. You really overdid it, huh?” He reached out, rubbing a circle over Minho’s tummy. “Like a kitten who drank too much milk.”
Minho’s face burned furiously, the tips of his ears turning a vibrant red. He quickly turned over, burying his face in his arms so he wouldn’t have to look at Jisung’s smug expression. Somehow, presenting his ass to him was more bearable than looking him in the eye.
Behind him, Jisung cooed, then reached out to squeeze the backs of Minho’s thighs. “Shy kitty.” Minho tried to ignore the way his words made him burn, instead focusing on the quiet shuffle of his movements as he shucked his pants and boxers off and went to get the lube from their bedside drawer.
In this position, Minho somehow felt fuller and bigger than ever. Gravity pulled his little potbelly down, weighed by his own softness and his heavy dinner. He was sure he looked a sight, so spoiled by Jisung’s hands, by his love. Exactly like a fat cat, waiting to be pampered, taken care of by his lover.
Jisung seemed to have the same thoughts, reaching around Minho’s waist to caress his tummy as he got behind him again. “Have I said you’re sexy yet? Because you’re fucking sexy,” he muttered. He dipped his middle finger into Minho’s navel again, causing pleasure to shoot through him like a shock of electricity.
“A—a couple times,” Minho stuttered.
Hearing Jisung uncap the lube, he squeezed his thighs together, creating a perfectly tight space for Jisung to push his cock through. He lifted his head from his arms to look back, eyes catching Jisung’s. Jisung offered him a pretty, heart-shaped smile and rubbed his side. Minho had to smile back, his heart skipping a beat. He loved this man so much it made him a little insane sometimes.
Jisung squirted some lube onto his fingertips and slicked his cock up, moaning softly as he did so. The sound went straight to Minho’s cock. He rubbed his thighs together a bit, sucking in a sharp breath as Jisung reached out to run his fingers over Minho’s inner thighs. “I can’t get over how pretty you are.”
Minho shivered. “Thank you, jagi,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful too, you know.”
Jisung smiled shyly, glancing down, his cheeks a pretty pink. “Thanks, hyungie.”
He wrapped an arm around Minho’s plush waist and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his back. “Can I do it now, hyung? Can I please fuck your thighs?” His hard cock pressed against Minho’s ass, just above his thighs from the angle Jisung was leaning at. It was wet and slick, a combination of lube and precum smearing across Minho’s bare skin.
Minho had never nodded so fast in his life.
With one hand, Jisung’s grabbed his hip for leverage, and with the other he cupped Minho’s belly, the curve fitting perfectly against his palm. He let out a shuddering breath as he slipped his cock between Minho’s thighs and Minho’s breath hitched at the same time, his cock jumping as Jisung’s tip rubbed along the underside of it.
“‘M gonna move now,” Jisung mumbled.
Minho inhaled, slow and steady. “Okay. Please.”
The first thrust of Jisung’s cock had him gasping, thighs shaking at the sensation. It felt a little strange, but also so good, the wet slide along his sensitive inner thighs sending jolts of pleasure through his body. Jisung was already panting, whines and moans falling from his lips, the same sounds he made whenever he got close. He’s close already. Minho was dizzy with the thought, head spinning. He fucked between his thighs with as much enthusiasm as he did fucking Minho regularly, with as much enthusiasm as he had getting fucked.
“ Hhng— Fuck, feels so good,” Jisung groaned, voice gravelly in Minho’s ears. His hands continued to grope Minho, cupping and playing with his tummy like a cat with a ball of yarn. Dipping his fingers into his belly button, gripping his love handles, squeezing the softest part of his tummy. It quivered in his hold, jiggling with the impact of his hips slapping against Minho’s ass. “Dunno why we haven’t—haven’t done this b-before.”
Minho muffled a moan into his arms as Jisung’s cock slid against his again before dragging between his thighs. “Me neither, Sung-ah,” he gritted out.
He could feel his thighs bouncing as Jisung fucked between them, the relaxed muscle and soft layer of fat recoiling with each movement. The feeling of his own body in reaction to Jisung’s thrusts was enough to send him closer to the edge. The backs of his thighs and ass stung a little, his inner thighs tingling from the heat of Jisung’s cock. But he needed more, he needed Jisung’s touch, needed more, more, more.
“T-touch me, Hannie,” Minho said, not caring that his voice came out in a whimper. He was so hard it hurt, he needed to come, needed Jisung to make him come.
“I’ve got you, hyung, fuck,” Jisung muttered. Moved the hand still playing with Minho’s tummy upwards, he wrapped his fingers around Minho’s cock, thumb digging into the slit as his own cock continued to slide between his tensed thighs.
Minho immediately hissed, hips rolling forward to fuck into Jisung’s fist. “Oh fuckk,” he groaned, eyes rolling back as Jisung spread the precum around with his thumb and twisted his fist around. It was a bit dry, but with how much he was leaking, it didn’t take long for the slide to become smoother as Jisung spread the precum.
“Close? Are you close hyung? I’m close, so close.”
Jisung’s thrusts were becoming sloppier, more erratic, barely managing to slide his cock between Minho’s thighs now. He was practically just grinding on him, cock slipping out from between, sliding down the backs of Minho’s thighs, between the cleft of his ass. Still, he was doing his best to get Minho off, jerking it cock with so much vigor it had waves of tingly pleasure washing over Minho, taking his breath away so he could barely get a moan out.
“Gonna—” Minho gasped, releasing a choked-off moan. “Gonna come, Sungie.”
“ Hngg,” came Jisung’s response. His cock finally slipped through Minho’s thighs again, rubbing up against Minho’s balls, tip just grazing the shaft of his cock where Jisung’s hand didn’t cover. “Me too, me too.”
Jisung’s hand tightened around Minho’s cock, pumping him just right, just as he knew Minho liked. Minho’s brain went static, his vision blurring, the muscles in his back tensing and rippling under his skin, and then he came. Cum splattered over his tummy, coating Jisung’s fist along with it as it dripped down onto the bed beneath them. Jisung didn’t stop the motion of his hand until Minho released the last weak spurt of cum, falling forward on the bed with how hard his orgasm hit him.
“Fuck hyung, I’m coming,” Jisung groaned, his cum-coated hand coming back to grip Minho’s waist. With a few more thrusts between Minho’s slick thighs, Jisung went rigid behind him as his orgasm hit, his release combining with Minho’s own to coat his tummy. Exhaling long and hard, he fell limp over Minho and rolled onto the bed beside him. “Fuck. Oh my gosh.”
Minho rolled over onto his back, chest heaving. “Holy shit,” he muttered, blinking rapidly as he tried to bring himself back to reality. His body was still buzzing from his orgasm, tingling everywhere from his head to his toes.
Beside him, Jisung nodded, puffing out a breath. “Yeah. We really should’ve done that before.”
Minho hummed, his eyelids fluttering shut. He knew he would regret going to sleep covered in cum and sweat with lube still spread between his thighs but he needed to rest for a moment. That was…a lot.
He heard soft shuffling beside him, Jisung moving to sit up. Then, he felt his presence over his body again, so he cracked his eyes open, just to see Jisung staring down at his cum covered tummy. “What are you…?”
“Let me clean you up, hyung,” Jisung said, a soft smirk playing on his lips.
Before Minho could react, he dipped his head down, sticking his tongue out to lick the cum off his tummy. Eyes blowing wide, Minho gasped, his cock twitching in interest as Jisung flattened his tongue and dragged it over his tummy, licking up every last drop of cum. His tummy quivered a bit as Jisung pointed his tongue, just to tease, and then sat back up, licking his lips.
“You’re…insane,” Minho said. He knew his face was probably even redder than before and he had just come.
Jisung grinned and crawled over to plant a kiss on his lips, which Minho gladly accepted despite the fact that he just had cum in his mouth. “You like me that way,” he said after he pulled back, a dopey grin on his face.
Minho rolled his eyes playfully and laughed. “I do. One could even say I love you.”
Jisung giggled, moving from where he was straddling Minho’s thighs to sit on the edge of the bed. “I love you too, jagi.” He patted Minho’s thigh, giving it a little squeeze after. “You wanna go take a bath together? And then watch a movie?”
Minho let out a content sigh and nodded as he moved to sit up. He felt pleasantly blissed out, tummy still warm and full and the high of his orgasm still running through his body. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agreed, smiling softly.
“Okay. I’ll get everything started then. You don’t have to do a thing,” Jisung said, sing-songing at the end. “I’ll make you some mint tea, too. I don’t want you to get an upset stomach.”
Minho wanted to protest—say he was fine getting stuff ready for them and he could get tea himself, that he could take care of Jisung. It was what he usually did because he always felt that it was his place to do aftercare. But Jisung had been insistent the whole day, and he knew any protests would fall on deaf ears. Besides…It was nice, being taken care of. Really, he liked it a lot.
“Alright, Sungie. But don’t think you’re getting all the aftercare privileges from here on just because you caught me at a weak moment,” Minho joked.
“Yay! I just love getting to take care of you, okay? Let me spoil my boyfriend.”
After delivering another peck to Minho’s lips, Jisung hopped over to the door, still completely naked. Minho had to laugh a little, shaking his head.
“You’re gonna traumatize the others,” he warned as Jisung went to turn the knob.
“Eh, they’ve already seen me naked, and they’re probably already traumatized from hearing you.” He grinned back at Minho. “What’s a little more?”
Minho gawked, slipping off the bed. “You little— me? As if you weren’t moaning like a pornstar just fucking my thighs.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jisung said with a nonchalant shrug.
He turned his back to Minho, allowing the older to sneak up behind him and swat his ass. Jisung jumped, letting out a high-pitched yelp while Minho cackled. “It was just waiting for me. Sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Jisung huffed. “Let’s both go to the bathroom then. We can traumatize everyone as a team.”
With a laugh, Minho followed him out of the bedroom as they headed to the bathroom. None of the members were anywhere in sight, so it seemed everyone had made their retreat when Jisung and Minho walked in the door earlier. Good for them.
Jisung had Minho sit down the second they got to the bathroom, doing everything for him. He turned on the water, got out Minho’s favorite vanilla scented shampoo and a relaxing, lavender-scented foaming body wash. He set out lotion on the counter and hung up two towels for them, preparing everything without having to be asked for a single thing.
In the bath, he washed Minho’s hair and ran the body wash over his body with gentle hands, taking extra care as he touched Minho’s tummy. The sweet domesticity had tears springing to Minho’s eyes, a lump forming in his throat. Maybe Jisung did have a thing for him eating a bit too, getting a little softer around the edges, and having a round tummy. But it was obvious to Minho that it was deeper than “just a kink,” than just simple desire—Jisung showed love and care for him like no one else ever did, like no one else would ever again. When he bought him his favorite snacks, took him out to dinner, fed him from his own hand, it was a declaration of his adoration, his love.
If a tear slipped down Minho’s cheek as Jisung rubbed lotion onto his tummy after their bath and whispered how beautiful he was, that was between them. Minho wasn’t a crier, and if Jisung never told anyone, who would know? Little moments like these were for themselves, anyway.
As an extension of acts of service, Minho’s love language was also food. Preparing food, cooking for people, making sure the members (Jisung especially) ate well, baking sweet treats and delicious dinners—they were all things he did regularly to show that he loved people, to show that he cared. And lately it seemed that maybe he also liked receiving the same kind of love.
It was becoming a bit of a problem, though.
-
Or, after getting endlessly spoiled by Jisung when they get into a relationship, Minho starts to show it in the form of extra layers of softness added to his frame. He finds he really doesn't mind it (maybe even likes it).
There were a few established facts that Minho knew to be true no matter what way he looked at them; the earth was round, the universe was too vast to comprehend, and Lee Minho liked to spoil people he loved.
Minho was used to being the one to spoil people, not the other way around. He hadn’t been in many relationships since being an idol made it difficult to date, especially when you were as gay as Minho was, plus, he’d had his sights set on Jisung since the moment he’d met him, so that complicated things a bit further. But when he was in a relationship, or he liked someone, as with Jisung, he liked to spoil and take care of them. Even before he and Jisung got together, he put as much effort as possible into spoiling and taking care of him—always making sure he ate, making sure he slept well, buying him his favorite desserts and treats. It was how he functioned. Acts of service was his love language when it came to showing love.
So when Jisung began to turn the tables soon after they officially labeled their relationship as “boyfriends,” and started to spoil Minho in return, he wasn’t sure how to take it. It was strange—not in a bad way, but in the way that he had no idea how to take it, too used to taking care of others to be able to process such a change. However, deep down, he had a craving to be cared for like Jisung cared for him.
It started subtly. Jisung came to Minho’s dorm most nights and they would watch anime or whatever else they felt like until they were too tired to continue, or things turned more heated. The first time Minho noticed something different was when Jisung stopped by like he usually did and instead of being empty-handed like he usually was, he was holding a grocery bag full of snacks—all Minho’s favorite.
Minho didn’t question the new gesture. In fact, he was elated, because he was out of his favorite pudding and Jisung had gotten both vanilla and chocolate. He’d thanked Jisung by peppering his cheeks in kisses and proceeding to go through two containers of the pudding.
That wasn’t the last time it occurred, and sometimes Minho already bought snacks in advance to make sure they had something for the evening, and Jisung would enter the room with a bag from the convenience store and a heart-shaped smile on his face, so excited to share his treats with his boyfriend. Logically, Minho would have accepted what Jisung brought and not worried about anything he bought himself. But most times this happened, it seemed like they went through both sets of snacks anyway.
Or, more accurately, Minho did.
Jisung started making sure Minho was eating regularly more often, too. A quick call, a text, takeout brought to the dance studio when he was practicing late at night. A request to go out to have lunch together, when in most cases, Minho would either eat a protein bar for lunch or have no lunch at all.
As an extension of acts of service, Minho’s love language was also food. Preparing food, cooking for people, making sure the members (Jisung especially) ate well, baking sweet treats and delicious dinners—they were all things he did regularly to show that he loved people, to show that he cared. And lately it seemed that maybe he also liked receiving the same kind of love.
It was becoming a bit of a problem, though.
Struggling to fit his legs through a pair of jeans, Minho released a frustrated huff. With his physique, finding pants that fit properly was already a struggle, the material sticking to his thighs and calves like cling wrap. Recently, though, it had become a much bigger problem. The pants he was desperately trying to pull up had fit almost perfectly a month ago, but now he was struggling to get them over his hips.
When the jeans finally made their way over his ass, he let out a heavy sigh. He’d changed his workout routine to be more similar to Chan and Changbin’s, which was definitely adding more muscle to his already strong thighs, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Jisung’s newfound interest in spoiling him with food lately had something to do with his body’s changes as well. They weren’t major changes by any means, still subtle enough that most wouldn’t notice them. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them himself if it weren’t for how damn tight his pants were.
Wiping his forehead from the slight amount of sweat that had accumulated there, he let out another sigh and went to button the jeans. With a frown, he pulled the flaps together, frown deepening when he struggled with that too. That was something new. Even before he started putting more work into his thighs, they’d been naturally big, tearing the inseams of many pairs of pants he owned. However, he rarely had to deal with waistbands that were too tight.
His cheeks burned as he pulled the waistband together and sucked in, finally getting the button to close. Looking down, he could see how his tummy pushed out over the waistband a bit, pinched in just underneath his belly button where most of the new pudge sat. He turned to survey himself in the mirror and the blush on his cheeks deepened at the sight of his own reflection. Thick thighs that rubbed together even more than usual, strong muscle straining the fabric, especially above the knee when he flexed. The waistband didn't look as tight as it felt, but it still emphasized the slight love handles he was sporting, and the definite tummy he had.
He’d never had abs like the other members, preferring to keep a softer tummy like Changbin. Sometimes it was flatter than others, especially when his physical trainer got him on watching his weight, and sometimes it was softer, protruding a little over his pants, folding when he sat, rounding out just a little when he ate a good, hearty meal. The Minho he looked at in the mirror, though, was softer than any version he had ever seen. There was a decent amount of softness around his navel in addition to the love handles, causing him to look like he did on the occasions where he ate too much. His chest had been increasing in size too, partially due to the chest and shoulder workouts Changbin had recommended, but there was also an undeniable softness to them.
Tentatively, he reached up and cupped his pec, taking in the way it filled out his hand, giving it a little squeeze. His breath caught in his throat, heart skipping a beat.
Sliding his hand down, he spread his fingers and ran an open palm back and forth over his tummy. It was velvety soft, with just a small trail of hair traveling down from his belly button to where it disappeared under his waistband. When he gave his tummy a squeeze like he had done to his pec, the warmth in his cheeks spread down his neck and his skin tingled. It reminded him a bit of Jisung’s cheeks, a similar softness to when he pinched or poked them. So he did the same thing to his tummy, squeezing the soft flesh, poking it, petting over it like a curious cat. All the while, his body burned hotter, breath hitching as he felt himself up, subtle spikes of arousal pricking at his stomach.
With a final squeeze, he let his hands fall to his sides. Gaining weight always gave him mixed feelings in the past. In the k-pop industry, skinny was beautiful. It was expected of idols to be stick thin, to conform to a near-impossible beauty standard that caused unhealthy eating and exercise patterns. Minho was not immune to this issue. He was well aware of it, had been since he joined, but that didn’t make it any easier to navigate. For a while because of that, he’d made sure to keep himself as thin as possible while still maintaining his strength. Any form of weight gain made insecurities boil up inside of him, like a reminder that he wasn’t good enough, that he would never be good enough.
But now, as he looked in the mirror, those same insecurities didn’t seem to appear like they usually did. Maybe it was because he was older, more mature, more accepting of the natural changes of his body. Maybe it was because he’d never really taken the time to explore his body when it was softer, too consumed with the desire to be absolutely perfect. And now that he had, merely out of curiosity, he’d discovered it wasn’t so bad after all. That maybe (more than maybe, judging by the redness still tinting his cheeks and the tips of his ears), he liked it a little bit.
Perhaps even more so, it was because it was evidence that he was taking care of himself, evidence that he was working out well, resting well, eating well. And more than all of that, it was evidence of the way Jisung had been spoiling him lately, evidence that he was loved and cared for by his boyfriend.
With that thought, he went to grab his shirt, pulling it over his head so that he wouldn’t be half naked anymore. The whole reason he was getting dressed like this in the first place was because he had a dinner date planned with Jisung. Otherwise he’d be using his free time lounging around in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Even if he had to go out, he would’ve done so in his lounge wear. The only events worth dressing up for were dates with Jisung.
Tucking his shirt in, he winced a bit at how tight the waistband was around his pants. He really should have tucked his shirt in before buttoning them, but what was done was done.
He pulled a slim, black belt through the loops in his pants, not because he needed it, but because he knew it made his outfit look nice. Following that, he clasped a silver chain around his neck and slipped a couple of rings onto his fingers. Jisung liked when he wore jewelry—Minho never missed the way his eyes stayed glued on his fingers when they were adorned with rings.
Giving himself one final once-over in the mirror, he hummed. The shirt he’d picked was a loose button-up that concealed the roundness of his tummy for the most part, but when he turned to the side, he could still see the way it curved out slightly, stretching out the fabric.
Once again, he was surprised to find he didn’t mind it.
Jisung was already in the living room waiting for him when he exited his room. Every time Minho saw him, it was like his heart stopped in his chest, beating too fast for his body to handle. His face immediately lit up the moment Minho met his gaze, soft cheeks rounding out as he smiled. One of his nice jackets was pulled on top of the same white t-shirt he’d been wearing nearly every moment since he found out Minho liked it. Baggy black jeans covered his slim legs, a sharp contrast to the pants that were practically plastered on Minho. He looked comfortable and beyond beautiful, just like he always did.
“Hi, jagi,” Jisung said in greeting, walking up to meet Minho’s lips in a soft kiss. “You look nice.” He rubbed a hand over Minho’s side, fingers running over the curve of his love handles, right where Minho’s own hands had been just moments before.
“Thank you, Hannie,” he said with a soft smile. “You look good too.” His eyes flicked down to the bare skin of Jisung’s collarbone, gaze trailing over where a faint amount of purple still lingered, mostly covered by concealer. “I went a little high last time.”
He brushed his fingers over the mark just to watch Jisung shiver, eyes glimmering with mirth when Jisung glared at him.
“Yeah you did, this was a bitch to cover up.”
Even though he was huffing, Minho knew he really enjoyed it. Jisung liked when he got a little possessive, when he marked him up enough that the stylists had to warn them to be more careful. Minho couldn’t help it, especially with how delicious Jisung’s skin looked all the time.
“Oops,” Minho said, batting his lashes in faux concern. “I’ll be more careful next time, sweetheart.”
Jisung rolled his eyes with a small laugh, clearly onto his ruse. “Mhm, sure you will.” Stepping back, his expression shifted to eagerness. “Are you ready now?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. "Cause I’m definitely ready.”
Minho smiled fondly, nodding. “Yes, I’m ready. Where exactly are we going, though? You still haven’t told me that.”
Jisung pursed his lips and hummed as they walked out the door. “Uh, well, I still wanted to keep that a surprise! I just wanted it to be fun. My little treat, you know?”
“You can’t still treat me when you tell me?”
“Hyung!” Jisung whined, pouting back at him. “It’s just fun, don’t you think? Besides, I wanted to try something a little different today… It’s nothing special, the surprise isn’t even really, either. I can tell you if you want.”
Laughing, Minho shook his head as he got into the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, jagi, you can keep it a surprise, I don’t mind. I think it will be fun. You’ll just have to make sure you tell me where we’re going.”
As he pulled his seat belt over his waist and adjusted his position, he was keenly aware of how his jeans dug into his waist and his thighs spread out on the seat. He squeezed the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. The more he thought about this whole situation, the more odd he felt about it. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain, a switch that made him enjoy his body like this.
Deciding he was satisfied with leaving it at that, he tried not to focus on the topic anymore, instead focusing on Jisung and talking to him about his day. Neither of them had a particularly busy day, a small gap between schedules allowing them some much needed rest. Jisung had gone to work on some songs in the studio while Minho had stayed home all day, apart from a brief gym visit in the morning. As much as he liked performing and dancing, days like that were some of his favorites. They always made him feel a little more human.
“Stop here,” Jisung instructed, right as they approached the restaurant they would be going to.
He instantly recognized the place; one of his favorite Japanese restaurants, but one that he hadn’t been to in a while because of his busy schedule and because before, he’d limited himself on trips there due to the fact that he could eat his weight in their food. Rubbing absentmindedly over his tummy, he decided that maybe that wasn’t so bad.
“This is perfect, Jisung-ah,” he said with a bright smile.
Jisung smiled back even brighter, sending Minho’s heart spinning in somersaults. “I know it’s not some new or fancy place but I know you like it here and haven’t been able to come in a bit so…and it’s my treat! So don’t even think of paying, okay?”
Chuckling softly, Minho leaned over the console to press a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips. He would never get over how endlessly thoughtful and adorable Jisung was. Neither of them were people who needed grand gestures to show their love, both preferring to show it in softer, subtler ways, just like Jisung had been doing lately. The fact that Jisung knew he loved this place and hadn’t been able to come in a while spoke volumes. “It doesn’t need to be some big fancy place. Trust me, I’m happy. I love you, Sungie.”
He placed his hand on Jisung’s thigh, gently caressing it with his thumb, melting at how Jisung blushed. “I love you too, hyung.”
It was a random Wednesday in the middle of the week because their schedules weren’t typically dictated by the traditional work week like others were, so the restaurant wasn’t too busy. They still wore their hats and face masks for good measure, but most people in that area wouldn’t bother them either way. Jisung led Minho back to a secluded corner in the restaurant, one away from prying eyes where they didn’t have to worry as much about being themselves.
Before Minho even had the chance to look at the menu, Jisung was ushering their waiter over with a wave of his hand, rambling off an order of appetizers and a white wine for them. The gesture made Minho’s stomach flutter, his heart skipping a beat—it didn’t help that Jisung already knew exactly what appetizers he would choose, specifically ordering ones that were his favorite. It made his face warm in a pleasant way.
“You know, I can order for myself,” Minho said, just a little shy that Jisung was taking extra charge.
Scoffing, Jisung shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I know that, but I wanna do it for you. Let this be a night for you, yeah? You’re always taking care of me and doing so much for me. I wanna do that for you, too.”
Lips curling up, Minho looked down bashfully. “Alright, Sung-ah. I’ll let you.” To be completely fair, he would let Jisung do literally anything he wanted to. If he showed up in his room and asked him to pack his bags, get in the car, and move to Mars with him, he would.
Jisung puffed out his chest, a smug grin on his face. Minho fucking loved him.
The waiter arrived soon after with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Minho insisted on at least pouring it for them if Jisung was going to do everything else for them, pouring Jisung a smaller amount since they both knew he’d get sleepy quickly with it.
As Minho took the first sip, savoring the bright, mildly citrus flavor, he looked over the menu, trying to make up his mind on what he wanted. He’d had a few different things there before; their ramen was a classic; warm, filling, and flavorful. But today he was craving sushi, eyes stuck between a few different rolls. It was hard to decide if he wanted to order something on the spicier side with more intense flavors or something more mild and fresh. His eyebrows furrowed together, a pout forming on his lips.
"Hyung,” Jisung said with a slight laugh, “I can see the gears turning in your head from here. You can get more than one if you want.”
“That’s not it, I just can’t decide which one or ones I want ,” he huffed. A hand tilted his menu back, Jisung leaning over to look.
“Which ones are you looking at?” Jisung asked.
Pout deepening, Minho gestured to a few different ones on the menu that caught his eye. The most he’d ever gotten before was two, and even that had been a bit much for him, leaving him uncomfortably full for the rest of the evening. “I’m too old to be making decisions like this.”
“You’re acting like you’re 80, not in your twenties. But fine, I’ll decide for you. I said I wanted to take care of you tonight anyway, so don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got it.” Smirking slightly, he ushered their waiter over again, obviously having decided what Minho was going to order for him. Once again, Minho felt his cheeks heating, his stomach filling with an embarrassing amount of warmth.
He went to take another small sip of his wine, but nearly choked when Jisung listed off not one or two of the rolls he’d been looking at, but all three of the ones he’d pointed to, including one for himself. Neck heating with shame and something hotter, a little more pleasant than shame, Minho tongued his cheek and drank more of the wine. Jisung looked too pleased with himself as the waiter left with their order, but Minho just leveled him with an incredulous stare.
“I didn’t say all of them, Jisung,” he said, cheeks flaming.
Jisung just shrugged, but Minho noticed that his cheeks were tinted a little pink. “That way you can try them all, though. Makes sense, right?” Nothing said about how Minho didn’t have to finish them all, about how he could pick and choose and take the leftovers home.
Minho thought about his plumper belly, the way the seams of his pants were barely holding on when he sat, the amount of snacks Jisung had been shoving into his arms lately, the fact that they were getting appetizers along with Minho’s ridiculous order of sushi. Swallowing thickly, he rested his hand on the side of his tummy, feeling where his belt cut into him.
“Mhm, sure,” he said, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly at Jisung.
He was beginning to feel like there was more to the way Jisung was acting than he was letting on. Curiosity tugged at his mind, the urge to know intensifying the more he thought about it. Reading Jisung was as easy as reading a book to him, and usually his intuition was right about the younger, so chances were, he was right about whatever this was. It was obvious that Jisung did enjoy taking care of Minho, that he enjoyed spoiling him. But Minho wondered if it went a little deeper than affection, if he enjoyed seeing the results of his spoiling just as much.
Conversation soon distracted him from his ponderings, too focused on Jisung’s animated way of talking to even remember what he had been thinking about, even when their appetizers came to the table. The appetizers could have been an entire meal themselves, with an array of too much food, including things like chicken skewers and gyoza, all which had Minho’s mouth watering the second they hit the table. The savory scents of meat and spices hit his nose, stomach growling in response. His face flushed as Jisung grinned, pushing the gyoza towards him.
“Dig in, hyung.” His voice was sweet, soft, the deepness of it warm in a way that had Minho reaching out with his chopsticks immediately, stomach twisting with heat.
One thing Minho had learned about himself over the years was that he was a distracted eater. If he was focused on something else, like his beautiful boyfriend sitting across the table from him, he would barely notice how much he was eating. That, coupled with a glass of wine, which he was already halfway through, made it easy for him to pack away more food than he would normally.
There had been something brewing inside of him since he’d gotten ready earlier, when he’d struggled to get his thick thighs through his pants, when ran his hand over his pudgier tummy as he looked in the mirror. Something brewing that made his body feel a little warmer in a way that wasn’t due to food or alcohol. Something that, subconsciously, made him want to eat more.
It didn’t help that Jisung seemed to want him to eat more, too.
All were reasons why he managed to polish off the majority of the appetizers they’d ordered by the time their real meal was brought to the table, a comfortable fullness settling in his stomach already. He’d nearly forgotten how much Jisung had ordered for him, the amount looking even more now that he wasn’t quite as hungry as he’d been when they first arrived. But it did look good, and he knew it would be good from his past experiences there. Even the simpler sushi rolls they had were vibrant and colorful and so flavorful it was easy to get lost in them. And Jisung looked so expectant sitting across from him, a little excited too, if Minho really thought about it.
“Which one do you think you’ll try first?” Jisung asked, picking up his chopsticks to take the first piece of his own food, a dragon roll, one of which Minho had gotten too.
His stomach rumbled again.
“Hm…” he hummed to himself, feeling a little overwhelmed, but eager. “I think the same one you got.”
“Ahh, we’re matching, then,” Jisung exclaimed, smiling widely before popping the piece in his mouth, cheeks filling out as he chewed. Cute.
Following Jisung, Minho picked up the first piece with his chopsticks, groaning softly at the taste when it hit his tongue. Across the table, Jisung stiffened a bit, eyes locking on Minho as he chewed. A shiver went down Minho’s spine, the first bite settling in his stomach more noticeably with Jisung’s eyes on him. He washed it down with a sip of wine, lifting his eyes to meet Jisung’s, who quickly glanced off to the side, occupying himself with his own food. Interesting.
Despite the amount of appetizers he’d filled his stomach with before, making his way through the first roll was surprisingly easy. Either Minho had been extra hungry, or his appetite had grown. Judging by the way his belt was digging into his stomach even more sharply, he concluded it must’ve been the latter. Honestly, he was feeling full already, probably more so from the tightness of his clothes, but he had a strong desire to keep going. To just eat. The food was good, he didn’t get to do this often, and Jisung was treating him to this, paying for all of this food. Why let any go to waste?
It was a little embarrassing to realize he’d finished his first order before Jisung had even finished it, a couple pieces still left on his plate when Minho finished his. He seemed to take notice though, eyes locking on the empty plate before flitting up to Minho, pupils dilated just a little. Licking his lips, Minho shifted a little in his seat. Even more embarrassing than the fact that he was going through food like this was how worked up he was getting. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with the fullness in stomach and the tightness of his pants, it had become more obvious. He was getting turned on. By eating. By eating more than Jisung, by Jisung ordering him so much, by the extra weight he’d gained.
He started on the next roll.
It was obvious Jisung was watching him. Even when he wasn’t looking, he could feel his gaze on him, on his hands when he picked up his chopsticks, on his lips when he opened his mouth, when his tongue darted out to lick away a bit of sauce. Minho’s whole body was burning, tingles running down his spine with each new bite he took. The embarrassment he’d felt before was fading, turning into something different, a sort of confidence he didn’t think he had, amplified by the arousal swirling in the pit of his stomach.
“Let me pour you more wine, hyung,” Jisung offered when he noticed Minho’s empty glass, taking it to fill up with more of the white wine.
Minho hadn’t even noticed he’d finished it, too focused on getting through his second roll of sushi. With a smile, he took back the glass as Jisung handed it to him. “Thank you, Sung-ah. Are you having any more?” he asked, tilting his head.
“No, I’ve had enough,” he replied, giving Minho a soft smile.
Minho hummed around the rim of his glass, the warmth of the wine adding to the heat in his stomach. He hadn’t been paying attention to the sensation before, but now he was and fuck. He was full.
He carefully caressed the crest of his tummy where it was a little bloated, pushing out against his hand. His jeans were so uncomfortable it made him grimace a little. Realistically, it was probably best to quit while he was ahead. Finish his meal there, leave with leftovers and a stomach just bordering on uncomfortably full. He and Jisung would watch a couple episodes of anime and he would go to sleep from his food coma.
But as he looked at what was left, his mouth watered. Jisung seemed to be content to stay in the restaurant too, happily chatting away about a new song he’d been working on, not noticing Minho’s internal dilemma.
Fuck it.
Setting his chopsticks down, he dropped his hands and pulled the end of his belt loose, unbuckling it so that it was looser around his tummy. He released a relieved sigh, more comfortable already, then pushed the waistband of his pants down until it rested over the curve of his tummy. Huffing, he gave his side a little pat. The way his belly seemed to push forward, fullness even more obvious than before now that he had some room to breathe, didn’t go unnoticed to him.
And none of what he did went unnoticed by Jisung. With a stomach unbothered by his waistband, Minho went back to his food, but quickly noticed how Jisung went silent, lips a little parted as he stared at him. Minho blinked at him, a picture of faux innocence. “What, Sungie?” he asked, unable to hold the smirk that twitched at the corner of his lips.
Jisung swallowed audibly, wetting his lips. “Nothing, hyung. Go on.” He gestured in front of him, nodding down at the food still left on the table. “Thought you said you wanted to try them all, you haven’t even touched these.”
Instantly, Minho was back to feeling shy, cheeks burning, ears a vibrant red. To anyone else, it would have seemed like Jisung was just encouraging him to follow his original plan of giving the different kinds a try. But to Minho, who knew Jisung like the back of his hand, who understood him on such a deep level he could hardly understand it sometimes, he understood the underlying meaning, even if Jisung didn't understand it himself. Finish, it said. Don’t this go to waste.
God. Minho wasn’t sure if he could, but the arousal swirling in his stomach coupled with the wine making him just a little buzzed as he made his way through the second glass gave him enough motivation to try. And he needed to see Jisung’s reaction. So he ate, chewing slowly to still enjoy the taste of the sushi on his tongue, the combination of savory, spicy, and tart melting in his mouth as easily as ice cream. With each piece that he swallowed down, his tummy grew fuller, stuffed more than he’d ever experienced before.
Somehow, though, rather than the fullness deterring him, it became a strange sort of motivation. He was so worked up from it, half-hard in his jeans, a little lightheaded, breathing quick and shallow (and it was hard to tell whether that was from how turned on he was or how full he was). He’d always stopped himself before he got to this point, even when he was eating his favorite foods or pudding. It always seemed like there was a reason to stop, a reason to hold himself back, and distantly he thought there probably was, but at this moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. A haze was over his mind, shifting his desires from mere curiosity to the urge to fill his stomach to the brim.
Jisung’s gaze didn’t help matters. Dark eyes burned holes into him, intense and hot even as they attempted to have a regular conversation. There was an undeniable tension in the air though, one that Minho couldn’t have possibly been imagining. If anyone had seen them, they’d know immediately. The air sparked with it, static electricity crackling around them.
“Jisung,” Minho groaned at some point, dropping his chopsticks next to his plate. “You sure you don’t want some of this?” He tried to shift to a more comfortable position, spreading his legs a bit, but that didn’t seem to ease any of his fullness. Rubbing his tummy, he leaned back—it was still soft under his navel, but the top was firm, packed tight with food and two glasses of wine.
“No, I’m good,” Jisung chirped. “You don’t have to finish it, just ‘cause I’m paying. But…you know sushi is really only good when it’s fresh.” There was something unreadable in Jisung’s expression, but whatever it was made Minho shiver.
He really couldn’t argue with that logic. And he certainly couldn’t argue with Jisung. But he might as well have told him to finish his food. Minho’s cock twitched and his neck burned.
With a small groan, he adjusted his pants again and leaned forward, picking his chopsticks up with shaky hands. He groaned around the next bite—he was fucking stuffed, stomach a little achy, but somehow the food was still mouth watering. He licked the chopsticks clean easily, going in for another piece, but Jisung beat him to it, taking the chopsticks from Minho’s grasp and picking up a piece for him instead. Feeding him.
Minho’s expression morphed with surprise and Jisung just laughed, a late, airy sound that seemed a little strained. “I said I’m treating you, right? Let me take care of you.”
Nodding wordlessly, he opened his mouth wide, allowing Jisung to feed him. Like that, he really couldn’t stop, not unless Jisung decided he was done. It was a simple thing, feeding him, but somehow it still felt like he was handing over a level of power he wasn’t used to, Jisung taking the reins and literally doing everything for him.
He let out a small groan of pleasure as he ate, intending on teasing Jisung, riling him up, but Jisung pulled back a little instead, frowning slightly. “Too much?”
Instead of answering, Minho grabbed Jisung’s wrist, guiding the chopsticks back to his mouth. Jisung’s eyes went wide and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Oh fuck,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the sound of Minho’s blood rushing in his ears.
He didn’t know why he did that, he really should’ve stopped, but he wanted to finish, so bad. He was in a state where he craved it. Craved the fullness, the extra curve of his tummy, the food in his mouth. He craved it, he needed it.
When Jisung finally set the chopsticks down, Minho was close to bursting. Using both hands, he cupped his tummy and gently massaged it, trying to ease some of the tightness. His face was fifty shades of red, arousal and embarrassment combining in a delicious cocktail that spread through his whole body. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to eat that much.
With labored breaths, he glanced down, taking in the state of his tummy. The shirt he wore was stretched over it, the fabric no longer looking loose like it had when he’d first put it on. Jeans pushed down, belt undone, unbelievably full, to the point where it was noticeable—he must look utterly debauched. A sight to behold. He certainly felt it. And he couldn’t even imagine what it would look like once he stood up.
“You did good, hyung,” Jisung said, voice sounding a little fuzzy through Minho’s food-drunken stupor. The praise did things to him, the words going straight to his dick. “It makes me happy when you eat well.”
Happy, huh? Minho thought to himself, almost laughing. It certainly made him feel something, but he wasn’t sure happiness quite defined it. “Definitely ate well,” he said, followed by a groan as he tried to sit up a bit. “I just ate my fucking weight in food. Definitely ate—” he huffed, a little out of breath. Just from eating. “Definitely ate too much. Overdid it.” He patted the side of his tummy and watched as Jisung’s eyes traveled downwards to take in the state of him.
“Happens to the best of us,” he said with a strained laugh.
“Like you had nothing to do with it, ordering all of that just because I couldn’t decide. What the hell.” There was no bite to his words—he just smiled fondly and laughed a little, trying not to let the motion jostle his tummy.
“I never said you had to eat it all, you did that yourself, hyung. Silly hyung,” Jisung teased, tone just a hint sultry as he reached across the table to poke the tip of Minho’s nose.
Minho’s breath hitched. Jisung was acting like he was totally innocent, which he clearly wasn’t, but he still wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d eaten it all of his own will. Pushed himself to finish for the gratification of tasting more, of seeing Jisung’s reaction as he filled his tummy to the brim. His head spun a little.
“Well…it was good,” was his only defense. Any other explanation would end up humiliating him more than he already was. Not that he minded the humiliation, really.
He was discovering a lot of new things about himself today.
“I’m glad!” Jisung exclaimed, the teasing lilt in his voice completely gone. “It really does make me happy, hyung. I like seeing you eat well, and have fun. You look so cute when you’re eating.” He giggled, foot coming to poke Minho’s ankle under the table.
The contact made goosebumps climb up his leg, a shiver going through his body even though the contact was meant to be innocent. He was still on edge, still overly sensitive and hyper-aware of every touch, every look Jisung sent him. He was still full, tummy still rounder than it had ever been even when he was at his softest, an outward display of how insatiable Jisung made him. Fuck, he wanted his hands on him now. He wondered if it would be weird to ask him to rub his tummy. Would he say yes? Jisung never had any inhibitions when it came to touching Minho, running his hands over every inch of his body, placing kisses everywhere from his lips to his calves. And when he thought about it, he had been giving his belly a little extra attention lately; hickeys around his navel, gentle bites to soft flesh, a hand on his waist, cheeks pressed to his tummy when they cuddled.
Oh. Jisung really did have a thing, didn’t he?
It was a good thing it seemed like Minho did, too.
“Are we ready to go? I was thinking maybe we could take a walk around for a bit afterwards, if you’re up for it,” Jisung suggested, eyes flicking down to Minho’s distended tummy.
Minho pursed his lips, scratching the side of his stomach. Walking in this state of fullness did not seem ideal, but maybe a light walk would help his digestion. And he didn’t want to be done with his date just yet. He needed his Jisung time and lately he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of it, especially on a planned date. So with a deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m up for it. It sounds nice.” It did sound nice, even if he wasn’t being fully truthful.
The way Jisung beamed made it all worth it. “Yes! Let’s go then.”
They got their bill and just like he said, Jisung paid for everything, not letting Minho even tip. It wasn’t like money was really an issue for either of them, but the gesture mattered the most.
Once their bill was paid, Jisung stood up and Minho prepared himself to stand as well. Pushing himself up from the table, he groaned softly, biting his lip. While sitting down, he could at least lean back and it was harder to notice how much he’d eaten, even if his level of fullness was already extreme. When he stood though, his belly seemed to push out further, his gluttony obvious to anyone who would’ve looked at him. He had a solid potbelly, the bloat making him appear at least a couple months pregnant. The waistband of his pants was still digging into him, too, pushing his tummy out more, emphasizing his love handles. If he pulled his pants up and did the belt as tight as he had before, it probably would’ve formed two little rolls out of his belly.
Resting his hand over the most distended part, he huffed out a breath.
“Mm, I can tell you really enjoyed yourself, hyung.”
The closeness of Jisung’s voice startled him, causing him to draw in a sharp breath. His lips brushed right up against his ear and a hand came to join Minho’s on the crest of his tummy. Jisung’s thumb rubbed circles across it and Minho melted as his fingers curled, nails scraping gently across his tummy, causing a shiver to go through Minho’s whole body.
Swallowing, he let out a breathy chuckle. “Y-yeah. Really stuffed myself this time,” he responded quietly, Jisung’s touch setting his entire body alight.
Jisung’s breath hitched at his statement, and then with a singular pat, his touch was gone, his hand slipping away. “I can tell, baby.”
He smirked, and Minho was close to screaming in the middle of the restaurant.
They headed out, hands brushing together as they walked, each gentle touch causing his skin to tingle, shivers going down his spine.
The restaurant was in a nice part of town—flowering trees lined the streets, filling the air with their sweet perfume, and a few small shops with cute window displays filled up the space past the restaurant. The road was fairly quiet with only a few cars driving down so it was easy to enjoy the silence. They normally walked without speaking because the main point of a walk like this was to enjoy each others’ presence.
However, Minho was having a little trouble smelling the roses, so to speak.
Each step reminded him of how badly he’d overdone it, his stomach grumbling at him for filling it so much. He hadn’t even bothered to fully redo his belt because of how tight his pants were already, and the buckle jangled with every step. It made him blush furiously, and it didn’t help that he could sense Jisung’s gaze on his tummy every once in a while. He didn’t doubt that Jisung liked it, but that fact just made his state worse, heart racing under his burning looks.
“There’s an ice cream shop on the next block, wanna stop there?”
Words said moments before disaster. Minho’s destruction. The end of him, the final straw.
Okay, maybe he was being a bit dramatic. Just slightly. But how could Jisung even think of suggesting something like that? He saw how Minho struggled, he witnessed him glut himself at dinner like he would never eat again. He felt the curve of Minho’s belly under his hand, the firmness of it under a soft layer of fat—he knew how full Minho was.
And he was suggesting ice cream.
Maybe more insane than Jisung’s suggestion, though, was the way Minho’s mouth watered at the thought. The air was warm and smelled like the first hints of summer, and ice cream was delicious. Minho had a sweet tooth. A lot of people thought Jisung was the sweet tooth between the two of them, and granted, they both liked sugar, but Minho was the weaker vessel out of the two of them. Jisung knew this. He took advantage of it whenever he could, buying Minho pudding and candy and all sorts of pastries, sometimes as bribery to get his way or to get Minho to do something for him, sometimes just as a treat. As was already established, Jisung liked to spoil him.
Maybe ice cream wouldn’t be so bad. Just a little couldn’t hurt, right? A little on top of his already packed stomach.
Arousal kicked in Minho’s stomach, dick twitching in interest.
“Um, sure. That—we could do that.”
He could never tell Jisung no. And now that he had started this whole…eating to max capacity thing, apparently he’d lost all self control. Had it been hanging on a thread this entire time? Waiting for the right moment for Minho to give in, to stop holding himself back? How thin had the barrier been that was keeping him away from stuffing himself at any given opportunity?
Fuck industry expectations. He was probably going to develop a real belly after this.
Jisung led them down the street, clasping their hands together briefly while there was no one around. Minho wished they could be public with their relationship, and wished he could shout his love for Jisung from the rooftops. Still, he was grateful for moments like these, if even they still had to be careful. And perhaps that was part of what made Minho not mind the weight he had gained recently and added to his desire to eat well for Jisung. Not only was it a physical sign of the power Jisung had over him, it was also a display of Jisung’s love for him, strong enough to show up on his body in the form of thicker thighs, a soft, round tummy, and a few stretch marks where the weight went the most.
Minho’s love language was acts of service, but apparently it was also doing whatever Jisung wanted him to. He wouldn’t force himself to do things he really didn’t want to, but it was hard to not want to do things that involved Jisung. This thing though, was for his own pleasure as much as it was Jisung’s.
Maybe he was a masochist.
At the ice cream shop, Jisung got a simple cone with strawberry ice cream, while Minho got a cup of mint chocolate chip. It was easy to forget about his bloated tummy and how uncomfortably full he was when he licked the ice cream off his spoon, the mint refreshing and almost relieving to his stomach. Watching Jisung lick the ice cream from his cone was also a nice distraction. His mind was already desperately horny and seeing Jisung’s pink tongue lave over the ice cream, licking melted bits from his lips, was only adding to the pool of arousal.
Minho started to feel the effects of too much food again as they walked back to the car, his tummy heavy and straining against his clothes, almost weighing him down. He huffed a little as he walked, out of breath in a way that was completely abnormal for him, a dancer for fuck’s sake. Finishing his ice cream was slow going, the dessert melting in his cup, dripping off the spoon when he lifted it to his lips. He didn’t miss the way that Jisung’s gaze pinned him down as he licked the cream off his spoon, tongue darting out to lick a drop from his lips.
Glancing over, Minho held eye contact and licked the spoon clean, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips at the way Jisung’s cheeks reddened and his breath hitched. The least he could do was tease Jisung back a little bit. Minho hoped he was getting just as riled up as he was.
By the time they were nearing the car again, the rest of Minho’s ice cream had completely melted and he was starting to wonder if he could fit anything else in his stomach anyway. Staring down at it, he sighed. Should he…?
Noticing his dilemma, Jisung nudged his shoulder and gestured down to the ice cream (more accurately a milkshake now), with his eyes. “It’s okay if you can’t finish, hyung.” Eyes moving lower, lower, Jisung licked his lips. His hand snaked around Minho’s back, fingers landing on the curve of his waist. “You look pretty full already.”
The rush of arousal that hit Minho caused him to nearly trip over himself, head filled with cotton, vision swimming with it. He shook his head in response to Jisung’s suggestion, lifted the ice cream to his lips, and gulped it down in one go, Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. He could almost feel the way his tummy expanded, shoving his waistband further down, pushing against Jisung’s fingers. With a gasp, he finished the last drop, breath coming out in shallow pants.
“Oh. Fuck,” Jisung murmured, grip tightening on Minho’s waist.
Minho looked down at him through hooded eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Jisung’s pupils were blown wide, lips parted, cheeks red. His eyes flitted to Minho’s lips and then he lifted his hand, cupping his cheek. “Here,” he said softly, thumbing Minho’s bottom lip to wipe a bit of ice cream off. Then, bringing his thumb to his own mouth, he licked the cream off, holding Minho’s gaze.
Minho’s breath hitched and went a little cross-eyed. “Jisung,” he whispered, airy, voice barely even recognizable to his own ears. He needed to get home, urgently.
“Fuck, hyung. Let’s get back to the car,” Jisung responded, his voice clipped and a little gravelly. He squeezed Minho’s waist deliberately, fingertips digging into his love handles so hard they would probably bruise. They were completely out in the open, available for any scrutinizing eyes to see, but Minho couldn’t bring himself to care.
As soon as they made it back to the car, doors closed and locked, Jisung was on him, hands cupping his belly, putting pressure on it that sent a delicious sting through his middle. “Sung,” Minho gasped, unable to get another word out before Jisung was kissing him hard, sucking on his upper lip, licking into his mouth.
Their lips slotted together, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece, two parts of a whole. Jisung’s tongue explored his mouth, tasting him like he had his ice cream cone before. His lips were soft and pillowy, slick with his own saliva and Minho’s, tasting like strawberry ice cream. Minho was overwhelmed in the best way, arousal pooling in his gut, lips tingling as Jisung nipped at them like he wanted to eat him whole. Minho would let him.
Minho moaned softly against Jisung’s lips as he ran his hands along the underside of his tummy, squeezing where the flesh was still soft and doughy, not stretched firm by how stuffed he was. Fingers shimmied past Minho’s waistband, curling around the hem of his shirt and tugging up so the fabric was pulled loose from his pants. Without the shirt tucked in and in the way, it felt like his belly pushed forward more, but at least he could breathe a little better. Aside from Jisung’s continuous kisses.
Jisung slipped his hands under Minho’s shirt, caressing his tummy, sending sparks straight through Minho’s middle. Blunt nails scraped across his skin, causing goosebumps to erupt across his tummy, the hairs on his arms standing on end. At the same time, their lips slid together, the slick sounds filling the car.
Jisung’s hands continued to roam, traveling up to cup Minho’s chest, thumb grazing the nipple as he squeezed it. Minho’s breath stuttered, gasping into Jisung’s mouth as he massaged his chest. He was even more sensitive there now, a simple touch causing his head to spin.
“Shit, hyung, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” Jisung asked, pulling away for a minute just to trail his eyes over Minho. “Can’t believe how perfect and soft you are.”
He grabbed Minho’s small love handles and squeezed them like putty, kneading them with his fingers. Minho’s breath caught in his throat and he let out a choked moan. “Jisung—f-fuck, knew you had something for this,” he said with a breathless chuckle, but was cut off with another moan when Jisung patted his tummy and gave it a little jiggle. “ Shit.”
“Seems like you do too,” Jisung said with a cocky grin, reaching down to palm Minho through his tight jeans.
Minho groaned, hips bucking up into Jisung’s hand. He hadn’t noticed he was already almost fully hard, cock straining against his pants. “Fuck—we’re—we’re in public, someone’s gonna see. Wanna go home. I want you to take care of me properly, Hannie. You’ll help hyung when we get back, yeah?”
He placed a hand over one of Jisung’s on his belly and directed it to rub over thickest part of the curve, the gentle pressure eliciting another soft moan from him. Any pressure felt like so much, he was so full, but it felt so good at the same time, a reminder of how much he’d eaten, how fucking bloated he was.
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly and he wet his lips, then gave Minho’s belly a little smack. Minho’s cheeks heated and he stifled a burp with the back of his hand. “Alright. Let’s head home, then. I’ll take care of you.” With a smirk, he rubbed over Minho’s belly one more time, then went back to his seat.
Minho swallowed and adjusted himself. His pants were so tight, hugging his plush thighs, digging into his tummy, putting pressure on his poor, aching cock. His belt was already undone, his shirt already untucked, so he reached down, sucking up just a bit to give himself more room, then popped the button on his pants. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jisung’s jaw go slack, lips parting with a quiet gasp. Minho smirked to himself. It was more comfortable this way. Turning Jisung on was just a bonus.
The ride back could never have been fast enough. Moments after he started driving, Jisung reached over and started rubbing his belly, massaging and caressing it in a way that was loving and gentle, but turned Minho’s brain into static and fuzz. His tummy was already sensitive normally, but in this state each touch sent a wave of arousal crashing into him. And Jisung seemed to know exactly how to touch him to get him riled up.
Tension hung thickly in the air, palpable in a way that had Minho shifting in his seat every couple of seconds, blinking to try to focus on the road and not the heat in his stomach, or Jisung’s hand rubbing circles on his tummy. Every bump jostled his stomach, his breath hitching each time it happened. Minho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching.
They went to Minho’s dorm and immediately made a beeline for his room, barely getting the chance to kick their shoes and socks off at the front. Jisung slammed the door behind them and Minho hoped the others got the message, otherwise they would be wanting to put on headphones pretty soon.
Jisung began undressing Minho the moment the door was closed. He tore off his shirt first, tossing it somewhere random on the floor, then he pushed his hands inside his pants to shimmy them down. Minho couldn’t help laughing a little, even though he was ridiculously turned on himself. “So this is really a thing for you, huh?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows.
Jisung groaned, bending his knees so he was directly facing the now prominent curve of Minho’s tummy. “You have no idea,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as he tugged Minho’s pants down. His biceps flexed as he pulled, Minho’s thighs jiggling with the force he used. “How’d you even manage to get these on?”
Minho clenched his fists, shaking his head. “It was a struggle.” There were red lines along his tummy from the waistband and lines up and down his thighs from the seams.
“I bet,” Jisung said, biting his lip. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane lately with these thighs— fuck— and this tummy, holy shit.”
He ran his hands up Minho’s legs as he stood back up, a shiver wracking Minho’s body as the muscles in his thighs twitched. “You look like I actually knocked you up,” Jisung muttered, settling his hands on Minho’s tummy again.
Minho shuddered, swallowing thickly, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. “Fuck. I kinda do.” He glanced across the room at Jisung’s floor-length mirror, taking in his appearance. He’d already seen how soft he was looking lately in his own mirror before they went out, but the sight of that coupled with his bloated tummy made him gasp, jaw dropping. He looked so round, filled out and thick, making him look like he’d gained 10 more pounds than he actually had. Like Jisung had knocked him up.
“You do like this?” Jisung asked suddenly, breaking Minho out of his daze. “You’re not bothered by it at all, right? You can tell me if you are. But I should remind you, you do look so fucking sexy right now.”
Minho laughed, tossing his head back a bit. “What do you think? You think I ate that much cause I didn’t like it? That I pushed myself to finish even though I’ve never eaten this much in my life ‘cause I didn’t like it?” He wet his lips, more turned on the more he thought about it. “Today’s for discoveries I guess, cause apparently I love stuffing myself.”
Jisung whimpered, hands flexing on Minho’s waist. “Oh fuck. Hearing you say it.” He gulped audibly. “That’s so hot. Seriously. Fuck. Let me show you, hyung. I promised I was gonna take care of you.”
He started backing Minho towards the bed and when his knees hit the edge, he fell back with a small “oof.” Jisung got between his legs, eyes roaming over his body hungrily. He ran his hands over Minho’s bloated tummy, kneading into it like dough, the pressure causing Minho to release another small burp. Face burning, he covered it with both his hands, embarrassment coiling in his stomach.
Jisung giggled and reached forward to pry his hands away. “Stop that, it’s cute. My big kitty ate so well.”
“Mmh,” came Minho’s response, muffled from biting his bottom lip.
“You want me to take care of this, yeah?” Jisung wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Minho’s cock, causing him to jerk, a moan slipping past his lips. “I’ll take good care of you baby, shh.”
“I think—” he choked down a moan as Jisung flicked his thumb over his cockhead. “I think I’m too full for you to fuck me. Or to fuck you.” His own statement sent chills down his spine, his dick twitching in Jisung’s hand. The thought was hot, riding Jisung until he was out of breath just from overeating, tired even though his thighs had gotten stronger lately. But the thought that he was too full for that in the first place was even hotter, dizzying in fact.
“That’s okay, hyungie. I can think of other ways to make you feel good.”
Minho nodded and scooted back on the bed so he was in a more comfortable position, legs no longer dangling off the bed. Even lying down, the gentle curve of his tummy was still visible and the sight made his head spin.
Jisung pulled off his own shirt, tossing it into the pile with Minho’s discarded clothes, then climbed onto the bed between Minho’s legs. Minho’s eyes dragged over his body, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, his tiny waist with just a layer of softness over his tummy, the way the muscles in his biceps and forearms rippled as they moved. His hands twitched at his sides, aching to touch.
Crawling over him, Jisung slotted their lips together, hands roaming over Minho’s torso, groping at the layer of pudge on his tummy and waist as he went. Minho reached up at the same time, his touch following the dips and curves of Jisung’s relaxed muscles and the curve of his waist, drawing out sweet moans from him.
As Jisung’s hands trailed up to his chest, Minho’s lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss at the same time. His fingers danced over Minho’s skin, grazing over his nipples, pulling moans and soft groans from Minho’s mouth. He cupped Minho’s pec, pressing the pads of his fingers into it, and Minho’s back arched.
“So perfect, jagi,” Jisung muttered against his lips before pressing his mouth to Minho’s again, taking his breath away. One hand played with Minho’s softened chest while the other went up to cup Minho’s cheek, a tender reminder in the midst of Minho’s entire body being on fire.
“Hannie,” Minho groaned, hips bucking up when Jisung flicked his nipple. The sensations surrounding him were overwhelming—Jisung, Jisung’s lips, his hands, his scent, the fullness of his tummy, his hard cock resting against his stomach. And still, he was insatiable. “More. Making me impatient.”
“More?” Jisung asked, smirking against his lips, then pulling away. “You’ve had a lot already, hyung.” With a grin, he patted the side of Minho’s tummy, eyes glued to slight jiggle the action produced.
Minho groaned, rolling his eyes even though the pat sent another spark of arousal through his gut. “You little shit,” he snapped playfully, no real bite behind his words.
Laughing, Jisung gave a loving caress to the spot he’d patted before. “I’m sorry, hyung. You’re just fun to tease. Your ears look so cute, all red.” He leaned down, pecking Minho’s lips, melting the pout right off. “I’ll give you more, I promise. But I gotta worship you a little first.”
He scooted back down the bed so that he was half-laying between Minho’s thighs, face directly above Minho’s chest. Through hooded eyes, Minho watched him, taking in his lust-filled expression. His breath ghosted over a nipple, the buds perking up from the stimulation, then his tongue darted over it before his lips wrapped around it. Moaning, Minho’s body twitched, toes curling.
“ Hah, fuck,” he sighed, reaching up to tangle a hand in Jisung’s fluffy hair. The younger groaned around his nipple, the sound sending vibrations of pleasure through Minho’s whole chest.
A string of spit connected Jisung to Minho as he pulled off with a pop, eyes glazed over. “Love your tits so much, hyung. Love how big they’ve gotten, shit.” He dove back down, this time taking the other nipple in his mouth.
Minho gritted his teeth, tugging at the strands of Jisung’s hair to ground himself. “It’s ‘cause of you,” he responded, breathless. He could easily take credit for some of them at least, with how much he’d been working out, but it was easier, better, to give the credit to Jisung. “All of this is because of you.” His softer tits, his bigger thighs, the plushness added to his tummy. All for Jisung, because of Jisung.
“ Fuck,” Jisung whined, dropping his head to rest against Minho’s chest, like hearing that statement was too much to bear. “You’re so hot, what the fuck. I love you so much.”
“Love you, too, Su— ah,” Minho moaned, cut off when Jisung moved further down, mouthing at the upper part of his belly, just above his belly button.
Sucking the doughy flesh between his teeth, his hands slid over Minho’s sides, coming down to grope his love handles again. Minho’s eyes glazed over, body buzzing, ablaze with pleasure and arousal. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock as Jisung bit down, teeth digging into him like mochi. His hands kneaded him like dough, tongue laving over the bite mark he left, just like he had done to his ice cream cone. Treating Minho like he was a dessert.
“You’re so soft, what the fuck,” Jisung mumbled, using one of his hands to massage Minho’s middle as he dipped his head to suck marks around Minho’s belly button. “I can hear your tummy grumbling. Still can’t believe you ate so much, hyung.”
Minho moaned, a high-pitched, breathy sound, as Jisung used his love handle to give his tummy a little shake. It was still firm, packed with food, but it jiggled all the same. “Nghh, fuck, Hannie.”
A look passed over Jisung’s face as he hummed, eyes narrowed slightly, then he dipped his thumb in Minho’s belly button and grabbed a handful of tummy, using it as leverage to jiggle it again. Minho’s lips parted and he tossed his head back against the pillows. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly.
Jisung cursed under his breath. “Sometime, I’m gonna ride your tummy.”
Just as Minho was able to manage a weak, “Please,” Jisung was leaning down again, dipping the pointed tip of his tongue into Minho’s belly button.
“Ahh, h-holy shit,” Minho choked, breath coming out in stuttered pants.
Jisung whined a little, creating a circle around Minho’s tummy to squish it together as he licked into his navel, sucking on the plushness around it. Swirling his tongue around, he groaned, causing Minho’s breath to hitch. Jisung’s breath came out in heavy pants, little moans leaving his lips. Blinking some focus back to his eyes, Minho realized that Jisung was grinding against the bed, rolling his hips in desperation.
“So hot, hyung,” Jisung whined, giving a sharp nip to Minho’s lower belly before diving back in, sucking and licking at his navel like he was eating him out. Minho could’ve never imagined this was something he would enjoy, but fuck, he was so hard he was lightheaded, dick pulsing where it laid untouched against his tummy.
“Fuck, Sung-ah, please,” Minho groaned, so turned on he felt a bit pathetic.
Jisung lifted his head, gaze meeting Minho’s. A shiver went down Minho’s spine at the sight of him—lips cherry-red, drool running down his chin to drip onto his tummy, his hair wild and out of place, a few strands sticking to his forehead. Utterly debauched just from playing with Minho’s tummy.
Two strong hands gripped Minho’s thighs, and even though Jisung’s hands were bigger than his, they looked small in comparison to his thighs. “You’re driving me insane, hyung,” Jisung practically whined, licking his lips, chest heaving as he looked down at Minho.
Minho groaned, eyes fluttering shut. His tummy was tinted red and splotched with bruises from Jisung’s mouth, and the press of his fingers on his thighs would probably leave bruises, too. Minho felt dizzy. “Then do something about it, Hannie,” he breathed, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched Jisung shudder.
Jisung blinked at him a couple times, the gears turning in his head. Minho tilted his head, blinking back at him, curious.
“Can I fuck your thighs?”
Minho inhaled sharply.
“Please? I know you said you’re too full for me to fuck you but please, I’ll make it good, so good hyung.”
Spots danced in front of Minho’s vision, the feeling Jisung’s request created so visceral it made his body jerk. He gulped down a lump in his throat and nodded eagerly, biting his bottom lip. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you can fuck my thighs, jagi.”
Jisung practically preened, excitement bubbling up in his expression. “Thank you, fuck, I’ve been wanting to fuck your thighs for so long, you have no idea. Oh my gosh.”
Arousal swirled in Minho’s stomach, his cock aching—he was so painfully hard. It wouldn’t be a surprise to him if he came untouched. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more turned on in his entire life and he had Han Jisung as his boyfriend. “Don’t know why you’ve never asked,” he said, moving to sit up so he could turn over onto his hands and knees.
He let out a groan as he shifted, the slight ache in his tummy another reminder of his fullness. Jisung watched him like a hawk, cheeks reddening at Minho’s small sounds of discomfort.
“Wow. You really overdid it, huh?” He reached out, rubbing a circle over Minho’s tummy. “Like a kitten who drank too much milk.”
Minho’s face burned furiously, the tips of his ears turning a vibrant red. He quickly turned over, burying his face in his arms so he wouldn’t have to look at Jisung’s smug expression. Somehow, presenting his ass to him was more bearable than looking him in the eye.
Behind him, Jisung cooed, then reached out to squeeze the backs of Minho’s thighs. “Shy kitty.” Minho tried to ignore the way his words made him burn, instead focusing on the quiet shuffle of his movements as he shucked his pants and boxers off and went to get the lube from their bedside drawer.
In this position, Minho somehow felt fuller and bigger than ever. Gravity pulled his little potbelly down, weighed by his own softness and his heavy dinner. He was sure he looked a sight, so spoiled by Jisung’s hands, by his love. Exactly like a fat cat, waiting to be pampered, taken care of by his lover.
Jisung seemed to have the same thoughts, reaching around Minho’s waist to caress his tummy as he got behind him again. “Have I said you’re sexy yet? Because you’re fucking sexy,” he muttered. He dipped his middle finger into Minho’s navel again, causing pleasure to shoot through him like a shock of electricity.
“A—a couple times,” Minho stuttered.
Hearing Jisung uncap the lube, he squeezed his thighs together, creating a perfectly tight space for Jisung to push his cock through. He lifted his head from his arms to look back, eyes catching Jisung’s. Jisung offered him a pretty, heart-shaped smile and rubbed his side. Minho had to smile back, his heart skipping a beat. He loved this man so much it made him a little insane sometimes.
Jisung squirted some lube onto his fingertips and slicked his cock up, moaning softly as he did so. The sound went straight to Minho’s cock. He rubbed his thighs together a bit, sucking in a sharp breath as Jisung reached out to run his fingers over Minho’s inner thighs. “I can’t get over how pretty you are.”
Minho shivered. “Thank you, jagi,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful too, you know.”
Jisung smiled shyly, glancing down, his cheeks a pretty pink. “Thanks, hyungie.”
He wrapped an arm around Minho’s plush waist and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his back. “Can I do it now, hyung? Can I please fuck your thighs?” His hard cock pressed against Minho’s ass, just above his thighs from the angle Jisung was leaning at. It was wet and slick, a combination of lube and precum smearing across Minho’s bare skin.
Minho had never nodded so fast in his life.
With one hand, Jisung’s grabbed his hip for leverage, and with the other he cupped Minho’s belly, the curve fitting perfectly against his palm. He let out a shuddering breath as he slipped his cock between Minho’s thighs and Minho’s breath hitched at the same time, his cock jumping as Jisung’s tip rubbed along the underside of it.
“‘M gonna move now,” Jisung mumbled.
Minho inhaled, slow and steady. “Okay. Please.”
The first thrust of Jisung’s cock had him gasping, thighs shaking at the sensation. It felt a little strange, but also so good, the wet slide along his sensitive inner thighs sending jolts of pleasure through his body. Jisung was already panting, whines and moans falling from his lips, the same sounds he made whenever he got close. He’s close already. Minho was dizzy with the thought, head spinning. He fucked between his thighs with as much enthusiasm as he did fucking Minho regularly, with as much enthusiasm as he had getting fucked.
“ Hhng— Fuck, feels so good,” Jisung groaned, voice gravelly in Minho’s ears. His hands continued to grope Minho, cupping and playing with his tummy like a cat with a ball of yarn. Dipping his fingers into his belly button, gripping his love handles, squeezing the softest part of his tummy. It quivered in his hold, jiggling with the impact of his hips slapping against Minho’s ass. “Dunno why we haven’t—haven’t done this b-before.”
Minho muffled a moan into his arms as Jisung’s cock slid against his again before dragging between his thighs. “Me neither, Sung-ah,” he gritted out.
He could feel his thighs bouncing as Jisung fucked between them, the relaxed muscle and soft layer of fat recoiling with each movement. The feeling of his own body in reaction to Jisung’s thrusts was enough to send him closer to the edge. The backs of his thighs and ass stung a little, his inner thighs tingling from the heat of Jisung’s cock. But he needed more, he needed Jisung’s touch, needed more, more, more.
“T-touch me, Hannie,” Minho said, not caring that his voice came out in a whimper. He was so hard it hurt, he needed to come, needed Jisung to make him come.
“I’ve got you, hyung, fuck,” Jisung muttered. Moved the hand still playing with Minho’s tummy upwards, he wrapped his fingers around Minho’s cock, thumb digging into the slit as his own cock continued to slide between his tensed thighs.
Minho immediately hissed, hips rolling forward to fuck into Jisung’s fist. “Oh fuckk,” he groaned, eyes rolling back as Jisung spread the precum around with his thumb and twisted his fist around. It was a bit dry, but with how much he was leaking, it didn’t take long for the slide to become smoother as Jisung spread the precum.
“Close? Are you close hyung? I’m close, so close.”
Jisung’s thrusts were becoming sloppier, more erratic, barely managing to slide his cock between Minho’s thighs now. He was practically just grinding on him, cock slipping out from between, sliding down the backs of Minho’s thighs, between the cleft of his ass. Still, he was doing his best to get Minho off, jerking it cock with so much vigor it had waves of tingly pleasure washing over Minho, taking his breath away so he could barely get a moan out.
“Gonna—” Minho gasped, releasing a choked-off moan. “Gonna come, Sungie.”
“ Hngg,” came Jisung’s response. His cock finally slipped through Minho’s thighs again, rubbing up against Minho’s balls, tip just grazing the shaft of his cock where Jisung’s hand didn’t cover. “Me too, me too.”
Jisung’s hand tightened around Minho’s cock, pumping him just right, just as he knew Minho liked. Minho’s brain went static, his vision blurring, the muscles in his back tensing and rippling under his skin, and then he came. Cum splattered over his tummy, coating Jisung’s fist along with it as it dripped down onto the bed beneath them. Jisung didn’t stop the motion of his hand until Minho released the last weak spurt of cum, falling forward on the bed with how hard his orgasm hit him.
“Fuck hyung, I’m coming,” Jisung groaned, his cum-coated hand coming back to grip Minho’s waist. With a few more thrusts between Minho’s slick thighs, Jisung went rigid behind him as his orgasm hit, his release combining with Minho’s own to coat his tummy. Exhaling long and hard, he fell limp over Minho and rolled onto the bed beside him. “Fuck. Oh my gosh.”
Minho rolled over onto his back, chest heaving. “Holy shit,” he muttered, blinking rapidly as he tried to bring himself back to reality. His body was still buzzing from his orgasm, tingling everywhere from his head to his toes.
Beside him, Jisung nodded, puffing out a breath. “Yeah. We really should’ve done that before.”
Minho hummed, his eyelids fluttering shut. He knew he would regret going to sleep covered in cum and sweat with lube still spread between his thighs but he needed to rest for a moment. That was…a lot.
He heard soft shuffling beside him, Jisung moving to sit up. Then, he felt his presence over his body again, so he cracked his eyes open, just to see Jisung staring down at his cum covered tummy. “What are you…?”
“Let me clean you up, hyung,” Jisung said, a soft smirk playing on his lips.
Before Minho could react, he dipped his head down, sticking his tongue out to lick the cum off his tummy. Eyes blowing wide, Minho gasped, his cock twitching in interest as Jisung flattened his tongue and dragged it over his tummy, licking up every last drop of cum. His tummy quivered a bit as Jisung pointed his tongue, just to tease, and then sat back up, licking his lips.
“You’re…insane,” Minho said. He knew his face was probably even redder than before and he had just come.
Jisung grinned and crawled over to plant a kiss on his lips, which Minho gladly accepted despite the fact that he just had cum in his mouth. “You like me that way,” he said after he pulled back, a dopey grin on his face.
Minho rolled his eyes playfully and laughed. “I do. One could even say I love you.”
Jisung giggled, moving from where he was straddling Minho’s thighs to sit on the edge of the bed. “I love you too, jagi.” He patted Minho’s thigh, giving it a little squeeze after. “You wanna go take a bath together? And then watch a movie?”
Minho let out a content sigh and nodded as he moved to sit up. He felt pleasantly blissed out, tummy still warm and full and the high of his orgasm still running through his body. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agreed, smiling softly.
“Okay. I’ll get everything started then. You don’t have to do a thing,” Jisung said, sing-songing at the end. “I’ll make you some mint tea, too. I don’t want you to get an upset stomach.”
Minho wanted to protest—say he was fine getting stuff ready for them and he could get tea himself, that he could take care of Jisung. It was what he usually did because he always felt that it was his place to do aftercare. But Jisung had been insistent the whole day, and he knew any protests would fall on deaf ears. Besides…It was nice, being taken care of. Really, he liked it a lot.
“Alright, Sungie. But don’t think you’re getting all the aftercare privileges from here on just because you caught me at a weak moment,” Minho joked.
“Yay! I just love getting to take care of you, okay? Let me spoil my boyfriend.”
After delivering another peck to Minho’s lips, Jisung hopped over to the door, still completely naked. Minho had to laugh a little, shaking his head.
“You’re gonna traumatize the others,” he warned as Jisung went to turn the knob.
“Eh, they’ve already seen me naked, and they’re probably already traumatized from hearing you.” He grinned back at Minho. “What’s a little more?”
Minho gawked, slipping off the bed. “You little— me? As if you weren’t moaning like a pornstar just fucking my thighs.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jisung said with a nonchalant shrug.
He turned his back to Minho, allowing the older to sneak up behind him and swat his ass. Jisung jumped, letting out a high-pitched yelp while Minho cackled. “It was just waiting for me. Sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Jisung huffed. “Let’s both go to the bathroom then. We can traumatize everyone as a team.”
With a laugh, Minho followed him out of the bedroom as they headed to the bathroom. None of the members were anywhere in sight, so it seemed everyone had made their retreat when Jisung and Minho walked in the door earlier. Good for them.
Jisung had Minho sit down the second they got to the bathroom, doing everything for him. He turned on the water, got out Minho’s favorite vanilla scented shampoo and a relaxing, lavender-scented foaming body wash. He set out lotion on the counter and hung up two towels for them, preparing everything without having to be asked for a single thing.
In the bath, he washed Minho’s hair and ran the body wash over his body with gentle hands, taking extra care as he touched Minho’s tummy. The sweet domesticity had tears springing to Minho’s eyes, a lump forming in his throat. Maybe Jisung did have a thing for him eating a bit too, getting a little softer around the edges, and having a round tummy. But it was obvious to Minho that it was deeper than “just a kink,” than just simple desire—Jisung showed love and care for him like no one else ever did, like no one else would ever again. When he bought him his favorite snacks, took him out to dinner, fed him from his own hand, it was a declaration of his adoration, his love.
If a tear slipped down Minho’s cheek as Jisung rubbed lotion onto his tummy after their bath and whispered how beautiful he was, that was between them. Minho wasn’t a crier, and if Jisung never told anyone, who would know? Little moments like these were for themselves, anyway.
Go on, eat that extra helping. No one will notice when the buttons on your shirt strain from how full you are. Shove food into your mouth like you'll never eat again, I promise no one will think anything of it. When your gut is spilling out of your largest shirts, when your pants are too tight to button, when you're huffing from just a short walk, all out of breath...no one is going to notice, it's just normal. It's just what happens when you're overfed.
ohh i love it when someone starts to gain a lil bit of a beginner belly that you wouldn’t notice until they’re undressed or cuddling like.. when they lie on their side to be small spoon - how the still-visible little toned line running from their rib to their hip gives way to a small belly instead of a flat plane, gently swelling out into a plushness you can comfortably sink your fingers into or give a small squeeze
the transition of running your hand over their narrow waist and athletic build, sliding it down to where it slopes out into a more indulgent tummy. beginning to gently plumpen, all pillowy softness and a little rounded out from a few too many snacks; the perfect size to cup with your hand and lazily rub while holding them. how the gently arcing curve presses into your palm, the underside of their belly resting ever so perfectly in your hands as they fall asleep
not to mention the new weight makes their belly a little sensitive and now, for reasons they can’t figure out, all they want are tummy kisses and belly rubs <33
Aahh I was wondering if you could maybe write binnies reaction to Jisung buying him the skirts he had been eyeing for awhile, playfully ushering binnie off to try them on. ! <3
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay first request here we go, be prepared !! i hope you like it <3
Stray Skirts by @jaethecreator wc: 3.1k
Tags: BinSung, Cross-dressing, Skirts, Thigh Highs, Top Han Jisung, Bottom Seo Changbin, Fluff, Smut, College Student Han Jisung, Producer Seo Changbin, Slight Confidence Issues, Praise, Body Worship, BJ, Jisung is horny and Changbin suffers (in a good way).
If you looked at Seo Changbin from the outside, you’d have multiple thoughts. One: he can look quite intimidating. Many colleagues found the producer quite hard to approach. However, those close to him knew him as a mood-maker and the victim of many giggle-fits. Two: he was big. Large arms hugged by the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, and an even larger chest actively trying to escape said shirt. Three: his wardrobe was darker than most. The clothes Changbin tended to wear ranged from mostly ebony to cool black. No one but his boyfriend knew the plethora of colors hidden in his closet...
If you looked at Han Jisung from the outside, your thoughts would vary. One: he looked like a bit of a nerd. Large glasses with a sheepish smile were his go-to. Two: he’s quiet. The only time he wasn’t quiet was with close friends or his boyfriend. When he was comfortable, however, Jisung could be just as loud as any extrovert. Three: people assume he can’t be the top when standing beside his boyfriend. Behind closed doors though, the number of times he’d left Changbin pleased as punch with cum leaking from his hole was countless.
Initial thoughts aside, no one could guess from looking at the two in public that Changbin liked to cross-dress. Specifically, he loved to wear skirts. Feeling so free and pretty appealed to him more than he’d like to admit. When he’d first confessed it to Jisung, he was shy. The apples of his cheeks and the shells of his ears were pink, even as Jisung carded his fingers through Changbin’s curly hair and assured him nothing was wrong with what he loved. After learning the fact, he enthusiastically bought his boyfriend a skirt with hearts in his eyes the next day. Changbin found it hard to truly ask for things, always eager to please and satisfy—but there was nothing more that Jisung wanted to do than treat his boyfriend with whatever he wanted.
But Jisung didn’t just stop at one skirt.
Much to his wallet’s display (queue crickets chirping and cobwebs inside), Changbin was gifted skirts every two weeks. He still hadn’t built up the confidence to go shopping for them in person yet, so Jisung took to learning his sizing himself and surprising him every few weeks. Thankfully, an "accidental" discovery made his purchasing easier this week.
Changbin had left after having dinner with Jisung in their apartment to make his way to the studio he worked at, where he'd presumably be working on music till late at night. Unfortunately for Changbin, he had left behind his work laptop. Feeling stressed (even though it wasn’t him who left the computer), Jisung noticed and immediately grabbed the charging cord to unplug it. However, the unplugging of the laptop had woken the screen, and Jisung’s curiosity got the best of him.
The tab that had caught his interest was a site called Stray Skirts.
Jisung glanced side to side as if somehow Changbin was watching him (he wasn’t, obviously). He tilted his head as his eyes scanned the clothing website's page. After they settled on the wish-list icon at the top right, Jisung licked his lips determinedly and clicked once more. A screen filled with beautiful skirts opened, each selectively hearted by his adoring boyfriend. A soft coo left his lips, knowing Changbin would have looked drop-dead gorgeous in every single one. Truly, Jisung had never seen something not look perfect on Changbin—like it wasn’t made for him to wear.
Quickly choosing, Jisung added the top 3 skirts from Changbin’s wish list to the shopping cart. The first was a black faux leather miniskirt. The second skirt was a gorgeous mesh black floral print, much longer than the first one he’d seen. Lastly, the third and final skirt was Jisung’s favorite— a cream lace miniskirt that would pair beautifully with any piece in his boyfriend’s closet. He could already feel his heart fluttering just imagining Changbin opening his gifts and looking so pretty in his skirts, soft thighs spreading underneath them as he sat down. The way the leather of the first skirt would hug the front of his tummy and the curves of his ass, highlighting two of Jisung’s favorite parts of Changbin’s body. Warmth rose to his cheeks, while also sinking elsewhere.
"Get it together, Jisung..." He mumbled to himself.
Trying to calm his excitement, Jisung shook his head like a snow globe and began to put in his card information to make the purchase. He knew using the same account already logged in could risk Changbin finding out about the surprise, but Jisung couldn’t ignore that his boyfriend had reward points available to be used at checkout. Being a college student was tough, so if he could save money while pampering his boyfriend—Jisung was all up for it. After purchasing, he set up the tracking to be sent to his phone and email instead of Changbin’s.
Once he finished paying and knew he’d left no way for his boyfriend to discover the surprise, Jisung triumphantly puffed his chest and placed his hands on his hips—feeling proud of himself. However, this didn’t last long. The second he’d exhaled he felt his posture deflating, as he realized now he’d need to see his boyfriend in person and would have to keep the surprise a secret. Part of him started to feel a little guilty for taking so long to bring his boyfriend’s laptop, but surely he could forgive him in the name of love and romance.
Speaking of his boyfriend, it seemed he’d realized he’d left his work laptop at home by the vibration in his pocket. Changbin was calling Jisung’s phone asking him to bring it probably, so he put the computer away in its bag. Once he answered the phone, Jisung was greeted by Changbin’s sweet voice.
“Yeobo… I think I left my laptop on the coffee table. Can you bring it, please?”
“Jagi, please. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”
“Not mine! My boyfriend would run 100 miles if I asked!”
“I would! You’d have to carry me back though, I don’t think my legs could take all that cardio..”
“Mine neither, but that’s beside the point! Be careful on your way, Jisungie—I love you!”
“Love you too hyung!”
If you saw Jisung’s face, you could tell his smile was warm and genuine. His eyes and lips shared the same expression, swelling with happiness and love after talking with Changbin on the phone. He couldn’t wait to see his boyfriend, even if he’d only been gone for an extremely short time. Was it possible to be just as excited about the gift as Changbin would be once he received it?
————————3 days later————————
The day the skirts arrived was perfect. Jisung’s classes were canceled because of an incident on campus, and Changbin had decided to work on some song lyrics at home. This meant the couple could be lazy together, basking in each other’s warmth and presence. There was nothing more that Changbin wanted to do than spend the day snuggled against his boyfriend.
Changbin had left Jisung’s koala grab to shower, returning from their bathroom with only a towel wrapped low around his waist. Wet messy curls rested perfectly on his head, looking more delicious than he did going in. Jisung couldn’t help but ogle at his boyfriend’s body, causing the other to smirk and flex his arms. However, Changbin's arms weren’t the first parts Jisung's eyes had landed on.
The swell of his chest came first. Jisung's eyes darted from the top of Changbin's hair to the pair of tits that stared straight at him. He knew the socially acceptable term for them was pecs, but the way the soft flesh often filled the cups of Jisung's hands said otherwise. As he watched Changbin, he couldn’t help but wet his lips. It was easy for Jisung to imagine his teeth taking each nipple into his mouth, giving both buds equal pleasure as he elicited the prettiest of whimpers from his beautiful boyfriend.
God, Jisung was puddy..
After his eyes had their way with Changbin’s plush chest, Jisung's eyes trailed down to the pudge at his waist. Jisung had lovingly marked the skin there plenty of times before and Changbin never tired from the attention. He found the softness of the other’s torso delectable, always trailing his lips and fingers over what he could. Jisung would take the flesh of Changbin’s tummy between his teeth, nipping with his nose pressed into his skin, hands resting on both sides of his waist. He'd hold his beautiful Binnie there, indulging in the little belly that had formed from never saying no to what indulged him.
He’d have continued surveying the sight before him, but at some point, he'd realized Changbin was trying to get his attention by calling his name.
“Baby?”
“Baby..?”
“Sungie...?”
“Sung-ah!”
“Jisung-ah!”
“Han Jisung!”
“Yah, are you even listening to me?! Hello?!”
Jisung was startled as he blinked, realizing he’d zoned out into his own Changbin fantasies when said fantasy was standing there. His eyes immediately looked up, watching as the other stepped closer towards him. Jisung’s hands moved to rest on Changbin’s hips. He held him there, giving him all his attention—his breath waiting on whatever word Changbin would say next.
The older had wanted Jisung to pay attention, but his eyes looked up at him like he was the stars in the sky. He couldn’t help but blush, feeling shyer by the minute.
“Wah.. what’s this atmosphere now? Do you feel bad for not answering?”
Changbin teased him with his words, then used one of his stubbier hands to push a curl behind the shell of Jisung’s ear. Afterward, he used the same hand to begin petting the back of Jisung’s head—an amused smile on his face.
“I was just thinking, Binnie. What’s up?”
“Did you not hear our Alexa? She said a package arrived. I was asking you if you ordered anything?”
“Ahhhh, did Alexa say that? She must be running low on battery.”
“Jisungie. She plugs into the wall.”
“..Right. Well, you should know by now what it is hyung! Did you think I’d forget your skirts?”
Feeling more bashful than before, Changbin looked down while smiling like a fool. Even though he loved the spoiling and pampering from his boyfriend, he’d never say it out loud—but Jisung could read him like a book.
“Yeobo.. you know you don’t have to buy me new ones every few weeks. I never wear them out in public anyways.”
Changbin spoke with a pout on his face. He felt guilty getting so many pretty skirts and never having the confidence to wear them out of the house. He wanted people to see them—he wanted people to see how much Jisung loved him.
A gentle hand meeting his cheek brought the older out of his thoughts. Jisung’s thumb rubbed the soft skin as he felt heat rising under it. When Changbin was blushing prettily like this for him, he couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that’d spread across his face.
“Doesn’t matter. I think you look perfect in every single one. And you feel happy in your skirts, right Binnie?”
Softly sighing, Changbin pressed his cheek further into Jisung’s hand, causing the apple of his cheek to squish against his palm. Jisung giggled at this, which in turn caused Changbin to as well. The sound alone reminded Jisung of wedding bells, but that was a thought for later.
“I’ll take that as a yes. While you finish drying, I’ll go and get the skirts! When I get back, you should give me a little fashion show~”
——————A few minutes later——————
Jisung returned to the bedroom holding the box of skirts as Changbin turned his attention to it. The other had simply changed into his briefs, prepared to get himself in a skirt soon. With a pleased smile, he broke the distance between them and began undoing the ribbon that tied the package together.
A soft gasp left Jisung’s boyfriend, which surprised him. Normally he was much louder than—
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! YOU DIDN’T!!!!! YAAAAAAAH!!!!”
Jisung’s hands had clamped over his ears, eyes screwed shut as he laughed. While Changbin let out happy noises and giggles, the younger was internally gushing at how overjoyed his boyfriend was. Jisung was sure they’d receive a noise complaint, but it was the furthest thing from his mind. When he saw Changbin excitingly putting on the mesh skirt, it felt like an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Nothing felt better than making the other so happy.
Anything and everything he’d been stressing out over the past two weeks disappeared from his mind simply because of how happy his boyfriend looked. He’d remember them all tomorrow, but now—he felt free. Free to indulge in his lover’s happiness.
“Do you like them, jagi? I’ve been keeping it a secret!”
“Aish, how could you keep this from me?! They’re beautiful, just like the day I saw them online!”
“You know, I couldn’t have done it without you. We make a good team!”
“..What do you mean, Sung-ah?”
“Remember when you forgot your laptop hyung? I saw the site from there!”
“..Yah. So you spied on my laptop?”
“In the name of love! And romance! Romance isn’t dead! I kept it alive all by myself for the past 3 days, I swear!”
“You’re too funny sometimes... I’m just kidding, yeobo—that doesn’t bother me!”
“Oh thank god.. I thought I was in trouble.”
“Even if you were, how could I be mad when I look this good in the skirt you bought me?”
Jisung’s gaze lowered from Changbin’s face to the skirt he’d put on first, watching his boyfriend playfully wiggling his hips. Was it normal to find someone so cute and sexy all at once? The younger felt his lips parting to speak, but nothing came out as Changbin quickly motioned for Jisung to leave the room, claiming he had to grab something as a surprise for him.
“A surprise for me? Hyung, are you trying to one-up me?!”
“Don’t say something like that! I’m just returning the favor, that’s all. I’ve had them for a while anyways...”
Jisung tilted his head, curious about what his boyfriend could be referring to. However, Changbin gave him a look that meant “If you don’t leave now, I’ll make you leave” which was hot in theory, but he also didn’t feel like getting pushed out of their shared bedroom—so he exited on his own accord. When he returned, Jisung felt his jaw go slack.
Changbin was sitting on the bed wearing the cream skirt Jisung had bought him over his black briefs and a pair of white thigh-highs. Jisung’s mouth went dry as he took the view in, still not used to how cute his boyfriend looked wearing the clothing. Changbin’s legs were already gorgeous and thick, but the soft material of the thigh-highs stretching over his tanned skin and hugging his plush thighs was enough to send Jisung into cardiac arrest.
“You look like a dream.”
“Wanted to put the skirt on for you, Sungie. Wanted to look pretty when you came back.”
Changbin all but batted his eyelashes, even as Jisung walked closer to the bed. Using both hands, Jisung gently separated his boyfriend’s legs to give himself more access. One by one he placed kiss after kiss along the flesh of Changbin’s inner thighs, his hands smoothing up and down the outer sides. He could feel a subtle squirm here and there, which only filled Jisung with the confidence he needed.
Jisung carefully filled the space between them, one of his hands holding the back of Changbin’s head as he pressed their lips together, hovering over him. Once the older’s hands met his waist, Jisung deepened the kiss, free hand splayed against Changbin’s back. The hand that took solace in his curls began to tug, causing his boyfriend to whine softly as their lips parted. He knew it was time for him to make his baby feel good.
“So fucking gorgeous...”
He mumbled against Changbin’s plump lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. Jisung gently laid the other against the bed, his hands moving to squeeze at his chest. Mewling and whining underneath him, Binnie was looking gorgeous—large muscles all for show. It was so sexy knowing that Changbin could overpower him at any second, but that he chose to submit so beautifully underneath Jisung every time.
Jisung gently licked a stripe between Changbin’s pecs, hands continuing their ministrations until he took a nipple into his mouth. A soft gasp left his boyfriend, Changbin’s lips performing a perfect “o” shape as his eyelashes fluttered. The younger couldn’t help the wetness of his lips as he pulled away, looking like a man possessed.
“Fuck.. feels like these tits were made for my mouth, hyung. Are they mine..? They’re mine, yeah?”
He pressed a kiss to the nipple he’d finished sucking on, then moved to Changbin’s other pec. Underneath him, his boyfriend could barely answer the question asked to him with a strained “Mhm..” The pleased noises escaping Changbin were a sign that it was time for Jisung to go further.
If Changbin hadn’t been able to answer fully before, Jisung pulling off his skirt and briefs and then taking him into his mouth had left him speechless. The lips around his cock sent a shiver down his spine, his toes curling in response as well. Jisung had Changbin throbbing between his legs, his strong hands gripping the bed sheets beside him. Moans escaped the older left and right, feeling debauched and at Jisung’s disposal.
“M’gonna cum, Sung-ah... Binnie’s gonna cum.”
Jisung hummed around his shaft as Changbin whined, feeling like he’d see stars soon because of how good the other made him feel. The fact that Jisung was still fully clothed in front of him somehow made it even sexier in the older’s eyes. He screwed them shut after the realization, doll lips so pretty and pink as they formed moan after moan. Jisung continued to swirl his tongue, sucking Changbin through until his orgasm.
With a huff, Changbin’s hips jolted several times before cumming into Jisung’s mouth. The younger was plenty prepared to take every drop while his boyfriend writhed on the bed sheets. While swallowing, Jisung gulped down Changbin’s load and pulled back, a groan leaving his lips.
“Hyung.. you look fucking delicious. Need to be in you... need my jagi filled with my cock.”
His voice was croaky, making Jisung sound so desperate for him that it took Changbin’s breath away. Quickly, the younger began pulling his clothes off and wriggling out of his underwear, revealing how hard and dripping with precum he was. Changbin gasps at the sight, eyes trained on his boyfriend as Jisung reaches into the nightstand for lube and begins coating his fingers. When his attention turned back to Changbin, a smirk was plastered across his face.
special rb because i need people to actually see this, this was my first longer piece of writing and i feel like it didnt get as much attention as id hoped. please rb if you liked this !! likes are nice but id love for more people to see it ❤️ and also a reminder that my asks are open and i encourage people to msgggg
Y'all....I'm about to make my comeback on here. Officially. I'm writing something that I started yesterday and it's already almost 5k words. Prepare yourselves
content warning: smut, established relationship, sub!minho, cock play, kinda chubby (but not really) minho, a little bit of feederism if you squint, it's all very loving and sweet
a/c: i feel things about minho's imaginary soft tummy, that's it.
=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!
"That was definitively too much."
Your home smells like savory and sweet, the nice scent lingering in your living room like a warm blanket, and Minho groans in delight as he plops on the couch with his eyes closed, stress from the work beginning to melt away. He loves when he comes home to the smell of one of your cooking, it makes him feel spoiled and pampered.
The portion of bibimbap was more than generous, but what truly tested his stomach capacity were the three big slices of apple pie he gobbled down while you watched him with adoring eyes, fingers softly caressing his plush tighs.
Minho has a sweet tooth and you love cooking and baking for him, that is always been your love language. In addition to that, in the last year of your relationship you started to experiment in the kitchen with lots of different baking recipies, and your loving boyfriend has been your official taster since that.
You cook, he eats, and you look fondly at him while he savors your baked goods, making a series of cute tiny sounds of pleasure that leaves you cooing and pinching at his soft cheeks. That is how you would describe happiness.
"Are you full?" you ask, sitting next to him and immediately nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck.
Minho smiles and his arm circles your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. You nose at his sweater and he smells like candy, smells sweet and intrinsecally like home and Minho. “So full,” he chuckles, placing a wet kiss on the top of your head.
"I guess you don't have space for one last treat then..." you smile against his skin as your hand drops to his belly. It feels tensed and a little swollen because of all the food he ate, and you start to massage it slowly.
"Treat?" Minho's eyes get all round and you hear him sniffing at the air in search of a distinct odor that will make him understand what are you referring to.
"I tried baking some cream eclairs." you smile at him, pinching the soft pudge below his belly button between your thumb and pointer. It's so soft that you wanna eat him whole.
"Well, I guess I can make some space, then".
You sit up again just in time to catch a glimpse of Minho's tongue lapping at the corner of his mouth, pre-savoring the dessert, and you feel a familar warmth spreading through your body. He is just too cute, too precious, too sweet to be yours.
"Let me get it for you. Wanna feed you." You smile as you stand up and head to the kitchen, the platter of creamy sweets ready in the oven.
When you come back, Minho is waiting for you with big pleading eyes, eager to taste the product of your baking. You place the plate on a cushion next to him, but instead of sitting down on the couch, you find your place on his lap, straddling his soft yet muscular thighs.
"Open wide." you say, taking one eclair in your hand and bringing it to Minho's mouth. You tap him under his chin and his mouth falls open easily.
Keeping eye contact, Minho leans forward to take a big bite, chewing slowly to let the flavor really envelop his senses. The lemon cream is sweet and warm, and it melts in his mouth.
You stare at him, pushing the eclair back to his lips when Minho is done chewing, inviting him to take another bite. With a loud gulp, Minho opens up again, and his tongue swirls against your thumb.
"How does it taste?" you ask while you brush a few crumbs from his lips.
Minho swallows the last bit of the eclair and the tip of his tongue laps at his plump lips once again. "Tastes amazing." he puffs out, his breath smells exactly like the cream.
"Want another?" you ask, taking the second one on your hand without even waiting for his answer.
"I am very full, baby." he mumbles, arm falling down to rest on the top of his stretched tummy. "I don't know if I can fit another one. But they taste like heaven."
"Just one more." you murmur as you leave a small peck on the corner of Minho's mouth, licking a bit of sugar away. "You look so cute when you eat. Please, just one more."
Minho sighs, his tummy is stretched and slighly uncomfortable, but saliva begins to pool inside his mouth as a pavlovian response to the thought of the sweet taste. "Just one more." he conceeds.
You hum and bring the pastry in front of his mouth. Minho diligently parts his lips once again and accepts the eclair. Crumbs are all over his shirt and pants, and there are cream smudges all around his pretty red mouth, even stuck between his teeth.
"So gorgeous for me." you whisper as your hips buck involuntarily against Minho's groin. And then you notice that you are not the only one enjoying this.
"You're hard, uh?" you ask with a chuckle, lowering your hand to cup him through his sweats and squeezing him lightly. Minho hisses and you rub his protruding stomach, feeling the soft skin under the fabric.
Minho finishes swallowing and breathes a sigh of relief as he hears you lowering the band of his sweats. “Yeah. It was sweet,” he huffs. "You are sweet. Got me all hard."
You take the opportunity to remove his pants completely to gain easy access to fondle him through his briefs in the process. Minho's breath is is soft and tender, and he smells amazing, all sugary and pretty for you.
"Wanna touch you. Can I, baby?" you ask, finding a comfortable position on the floor, between his parted legs.
The room is warm, but Minho's legs are tensed and his thin hair are fluffy. You caress them and massage the muscles underneath, and you see his fattened cock twitching against his groin. You see a few pearls of precum glistening on the chubby tip, and you wonder if his release would taste like cream if you fed him enough sweets. The thought is enough to rub your legs together, your panties are already sticking to your folds. But this is for Minho, you think.
"You can do anything you want to me." he murmurs, eyes almost closing and head resting on the cushions behind him.
You smile and you scoot forward to wrap one hand around his cock, squeezing it. His swollen cock immediately chubs up even more and wets the fabric of the sweatshirt. The cockhead looks all sensitive, and you tentatively circle the palm of your other hand around it, coaxing a sweet moan out of Minho's lips.
"My sweet, sweet boy." you coo, starting a lazy rhythm of stroking and circling, stopping just to stimulate his spongy head every once in a while. "You are so sweet that I wanna eat you up."
Minho's chuckles breathily and lets out a soft sob as his thighs begin to shake.
"Am I your dessert?" he asks, looking down at you with big eyes and still a few crumbs of eclair on the corner of his mouth. He mindlessly licks them off.
"You so are, pretty. You are my candy, my cake, my chocolate milk." you answer, sliding your thumb against his slit and making him whine slowly. "And I really need to eat you. I am serious."
You lower your head past his leaky cock to brush your cheek against the soft pudge under Minho's belly button. And then you bite him.
The tender flesh is warm and squishy, and the taste of Minho's skin, together with the cream scent still lingering in the air makes you moan against him.
"F-fuck, baby." he mutters, and you feel his cock throbbing in your fist.
With the tip of your tongue you lick at the velvety scar across his lower stomach and then you twirl it inside of his belly button, mimicking the way he usually fucks himself into you. He whines at the movement and his body twitches again.
"Love you." you whisper, keeping your grip steady on him. "Love how soft you get for me. How sweet. Love when you eat well and you look like this. You are so delicious, Mimo."
You keep biting softly at the fluffy fat of his pudge, savoring its taste and jerking him slowly, letting the schlick sound of his wet cock resonate through the room. Minho is pliant under your touch and his eyes are glassy.
"Uhm – I am. I-I am cumming, baby. Sorry." he moans when your finger dips a little into his slit.
"Don't be sorry, honey. You wanna cum?" you ask with a loving tone while your hand slides smoothly on his aching muscle. "Wanna cream on me like the sweet pastry you are? You can, pretty baby. Let it all go for me."
And Minho obeys, as he always does. With one last pump he begins to shoot thick ropes of creamy cum all over your hand and his round belly, covering his pale skin with glossy spurts that accumulate on the curve just above his ribcage.
When he is done, you lap at some of his release and it actually tastes sweet. It could be your imagination or just the fact that you are aroused, but you swear you can taste some of the cream on his orgasm.
"Wow." he puffs, hand covering his eyes in a shy attempt to hide himself. "That was... something."
You chuckle and kiss his tummy one last time before looking up to his face. "Then you will not be surprised when I'll tell you I baked more, right?"
Minho's face blushes to an adorable shade of pink. "Maybe... m-maybe I can eat one more".
💕Those tiny, muted burps that come from a completely packed belly💕
A belly so full and stretched that absolutely no room remains, a belly so overfilled that nothing more can escape. So full that all that can be heard are quiet belches and faint hiccups, and the desperate, aching groan for release
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