Boyfriend moves in with his partner when he’s fit and handsome. But as the relationship continues and the happy weight starts, increases, he is enabled into a fatter and whinier version of himself. More domesticated. He becomes spoiled enough to think of food cravings as necessities by his doting partner.
I imagine him sat on the couch, growing belly over the waistband of his shorts and his tank top resting on the top of it, a hand on his stomach.
He calls out, as he usually does. That elongated baaaaabe – so whiny and desperate. So hungry, even if his stomach isn’t really empty.
“What is it, love? What do you need?” his partner asks, sitting next to him and squeezing his arm supportively.
“Can you get be some ice cream, babe? It’s hot. I need something sweet during the commercials.”
“Of course. You should have told me you were getting hot.” They kiss his cheek and rub his belly.
He ends up making through the whole pint, all past inhibitions completely gone.
His partner hasn’t said anything. In fact they like looking after him. So this is perfect, isn’t it? Kissing away a couple of dress sizes isn’t that much of a price to pay for that.
