Ryan rolled over slowly to shut up his phone's alarm that he had forgotten to not to set, his eyes bleary and still half closed. Ryan was desperately trying to carry on his Saturday sleep-in before Scott. He tapped several times wildly at his phone, which sat amongst chocolate bar wrappers, before the phone fell on the floor. It continued to beep away at Ryan amongst the crisp packets down there.
Groaning, Ryan shuffled up the bed and pushed himself up, his head lulling to one side as sleep still clung to him. Ryan groaned again as he bent over, picked up his phone and finally silenced it. He was about to lob the phone back on the bedside table when Ryan noticed not one but two messages from Scott. Immediately, the fuzz of sleep fell off Ryan and he sat bolt upright to read the messages. Ryan's heart skipped a beat and his hands shook a little.
just lettin you kno i gotta be at my mum's for 6 (don't ask) so i'm going around 3 today. if you still wanna meet up i could pick you up at 9 instead? i could take you for a fry up before we do our clothes and maybe that way wash the clothes you get dirty so bring spares lmao
guess youre still sleeping atm but i'll be at the laundrettes like normal if you do wake up. i promise you man we'll still go to the pub if you get there before 11, tryna make sure we have time
Ryan's eyes flicked to the top of his phone for the time, and barely registered what it said before his body sprung into action. Well, tried to. Knowing Scott for over a year now had made a few changes to the way Ryan's body worked. Quick movements were harder and movements that didn't tire were less common these days. But the remedy to those facts was Scott himself.
Ryan stood up and lurched backwards for a second before he stablised himself on the table.
"Half an hour," Ryan said through gritted teeth. "I can make it."
Ryan walked over to the wardrobe with its peeling white vinyl and tore a t-shirt from a hanger, leaving it swinging and clattering with the others. It was getting hard work to wiggle his arms through the sleeves of most of his shirts now, but Ryan didn't care. He did pause though when the bottom hem of this one only just made it below his belly button. But Ryan only paused for a second, reassuring himself that Scott wouldn't mind. After all, the way he had met Scott wasn't exactly normal.
Next Ryan grabbed the pair of jeans he had left strewn on the floor and then pulled open the drawers for a pair of underpants. Hands full, Ryan threw the clothes on the bed and changed his underwear, suddenly very aware of how much his belly and newly grown fatpad wobbled as he did so. Again, Ryan reassured himself that Scott wouldn't mind and began putting on the trousers. He had to sway his hips and wriggle his rear to force the tired pair of jeans over his bottom and fatpad. There was no way skinny jeans like these could cover up his exposed lower tummy either but the usual solution, the big hoodie, sat stained in the laundry bag on the back of the door. Ryan shoved his feet into a pair of unlaced converse and sucked air through his teeth as he picked his phone back up again.
sorry mate omw now, Ryan messaged Scott, after retyping the message several times. Ryan didn't know whether that was the nerves or the added width of his fingers.
Even putting his phone in his back pocket felt risky now, Ryan's expanded rump did seem to push it back out again. But it couldn't be helped so Ryan crammed it in anyway and grabbed the laundry bag off his dorm door and ran the best he could to the stairs.
Scott peered out the windows of the laundrette's again, trying to spot Ryan. Jigging his knee, Scott turned his head back inside and stared down at his phone as his own washing already was in the machine. Then, suddenly his phone in his hand buzzed with a message from Ryan.
Scott smiled softly and kicked his feet on the ground a couple of times, remembering. Who knew that you could become friends with someone because they couldn't get a stain out of something? That must be over a year ago at this point. The friendship, and the guy, had grown a lot in that time.
Fifteen minutes later, a puffing and panting Ryan arrived at the laundrette's and draped himself on the bench next to Scott, trying to recover his breath. Scott tried not to stare at Ryan's under belly which wobbled with each inhale and exhale.
"You didn't need to run, you know?" said Scott, playfully jabbing Ryan in the pudgy arm. "I would have waited until twelve to be honest."
"Oh," Ryan panted. "Now you tell me."
"Course mate," Scott replied. "Now let's see what you've managed to muck up this week. I don't know how you do it."
Ryan gave his best nonchalant shrug and opened the large drawstring bag up.
The first stain from the start of it all was a mistake, the second and third were obviously not and Scott called it straight away. Ryan remembered the small mischevious smile Scott had when he accused Ryan of putting stains on the shirts on purpose. Nonetheless, Scott then invited Ryan to the pub once they had both washed and dried their clothes. The fourth stain, which happened that afternoon, was a mistake but did have the same cause as the previous two: Scott.
Ryan just couldn't get his body or mind under control around this man. The way Scott talked and immediately slipped into his life, like something familar and acted with Ryan as if they had known each other for years, somehow put Ryan both at ease and completely off-kilter. And like some sort of clumsy slob, Ryan managed to get barbeque sauce all down him. But Scott didn't mind. In fact, to Ryan, it felt quite the opposite somehow.
"Well, most of this you can just get off fine with just wash powder, but yeah a couple of these might need some of the oxi stuff," said Scott, rumaging through the bag, brushing his wavy black hair out of his eyes. "There is a lot of stains on these though. God, how did your mum survive washing your clothes?!"
Ryan smiled sheepishly. He hadn't been so messy at home, not even as a small kid. But after that day at the pub, it was like something had changed inside him.
It started of with midnight snacks nightly to think about the looks Scott would give him, though Ryan felt like sometimes the looks in the pub were completely imaginary. And then it somehow got to at least three takeways a week to imagine Scott was with him as he ate, like at the pub, big portions, messy portions. And now here he was at twenty-six, doing a masters and wearing half his food on his clothes and the other half permantly stuck to his middle.
"Right, I've got the things that need oxi powder, you load in the rest," directed Scott.
"Thanks," said Ryan, heaving himself up from the bench. His belly jiggled over the waist band and Ryan suddenly flushed bright red as he saw his reflection in the washing machine door. The top of his belly sported the logo of a band this t-shirt was for but it was all stretched out of proportion. His lower belly was hanging freely over the waistband of his black jeans while his hips buldged upwards and spilled out over the waistband too. Ryan felt his embarassment run hot but he still wished he could wear his hoodie to cover everything up. It was because of his dedication to the hoodie that the extent of Ryan's growth hadn't quite dawned on him until now.
"Is it working?" Scott asked, looking up from rubbing the powder into Ryan's dirty hoodie. He caught a glimpse of Ryan's stare into the dark drum of the washing machine. Ryan had been wearing this hoodie nearly every time they met up, especially the last few months, thought Scott. Even those two times in summer.
"Er yeah," Ryan said hurridly, bundling everything into the washing machine and getting up the laundry app on his phone.
"Here you are then, both of those things should be fine with that on them," Scott said, peeking a look over Ryan's shoulder as he pushed the other two things into the machine.
Scott looked at the fast food and delivery apps Ryan had to swipe past before the laundry app and rubbed his friend's podgy shoulder. The seam threads had snapped in a couple of areas.
"I'll just go next door and get us some snacks while we wait," Scott said, pointing with his thumb.
"Oh," Ryan said quietly. He looked down at his body and subtly nodded. "We're not going to the pub after all?"
"Nah, we will," said Scott, though in truth he was about to suggest not, for Ryan's sake. But the disappointment was clear and Scott didn't like to hear that from Ryan.
"Just thought you probably need some sorta breakfast after that running about. Crunchies are your favourite, right?"
Ryan couldn't help looking relieved and nodded, before plonking himself down on the bench to watch the washing machines.
Next door in the corner shop, Scott scanned the short aisles for chocolate. Spying them, Scott grabbed a multipack of crunchies. He threw them in the air triumphantly and caught them again with a chuckle. However then, Scott paused to think. Ryan did seem so uncomfortable just now, staring at his reflection. Scott glanced to the single bars on the shelf and back down to the multipack in his hand. A good mate doesn't make someone feel uncomfortable. But Ryan always looks so happy in the moment, eating and chatting with him. It was a surprise to see Ryan dressed as he was today, half a belly exposed, but that look didn't seem bad to Scott. It was actually... cute.
Scott felt goosebumps prickle on his skin and it wasn't because of the drinks' fridge humming behind him. This guy was basically a stick when they first met. Scott had been taking him for late lunches weekly for a year and the thought of Satudays were getting Scott through the week at this point. To see his friend eat like he ate and change like he was changing was near-on addictive. This wasn't friendship, and it hadn't been for a long time.
Scott turned and took two bottles of diet Dr Pepper from the fridge with his eyes wide in realisation. He was fattening up a man like one would fatten a goose for Christmas. As if in a trance, Scott placed the pack of chocolate and the bottles on the till and tapped his card when the shop owner rang everything up.
Scott continued his ethereal walk back into the laundrette where he found Ryan trying to pull in his belly and yank his shirt down over it to no success. Everything just tumbled out again onto Ryan's lap.
"Are you alright, man? You look like you've just seen a ghost or something," Ryan said, looking up at Scott in concern.
Scott slowly shook his head before sitting down next to Ryan. There was a long silence, broken only by the whir of washing machines. Ryan looked from his friend's body to his own. When they met, they were in the same league, Scott was skinny and elf-like and he was too. Now Ryan felt like he definitely was the odd one of this pair.
"Why did you muck up your clothes on purpose, that second time we met?" Scott asked eventually.
"I didn't, you just thought I did-" Ryan began.
"Nah, don't. I thought you were lying then, and I know you too well at this point. I know for sure you're lying now," Scott interuppted with care in his voice. "And why do you always wear that?"
Scott was pointing at the hoodie swirling around in the soapy water.
Ryan's heart was thundering in his chest as he looked at Scott's face. There wasn't anger on it, but the determination of an interrogator. A look unfamilar all the same on Scott's normally friendly face with its dark oak brown eyes.
"I... I was wearing it when we met," Ryan said, twiddling with the shirt again. "It was so oversized it reached my knees. Now its just baggy. Because I'm fat."
Scott gingerly placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder. As soon as his fingers touched Ryan's body, his fingers fell relaxed. He didn't need more answers. He knew that even if it was something different, Ryan felt something for Scott like Scott felt something for Ryan. But unlike himself, Ryan had known since the first time they had met. That's why he had stained his own clothes, and continued to go for meals with Scott despite how his body and behaviour were obviously changing.
Ryan slowly tipped his head onto Scott's hand and the pair sat side by side watching the machines spin their clothes, with Scott gently rubbing the back of Ryan's neck.
"Can I have one of those drinks?" Ryan asked after ten minutes.
Wordlessly, Scott carefully retrieved his hand from behind Ryan and undid one of the bottles of Dr Pepper and handed it to him. His eyes watched like an eagle as Ryan gulped down the fizzy drink in almost one go. Ryan's second chin wobbled with each swallow and his plump lips panted after it was mostly gone and Ryan broke the bottle away from his mouth. A single trail of brown sticky liquid went down Ryan's face and dripped onto his belly.
"How about a crunchie?" asked Scott, raising an eyebrow. He had already taken one out of the packet.
Ryan smiled, and took it from Scott's hand but letting the moment linger in the air a little. Ryan opened the chocolate bar and began eating, not caring as crumbs hit his chest and belly. As each bar came to the end, Scott handed Ryan another. Occasionally, Ryan took a sip from the last of the bottle of pop and then the second bottle, but whatever he did, Scott watched intently. It wasn't imaginary at all. There was no talking, but the conversation was alive, filling the air with electricity.
Looking around the laundrette and seeing the other people were busy, Scott leaned in close to Ryan.
"Can I touch it?" Scott asked with his hand already hovering over Ryan's stomach.
"Sure, if you wanna," said Ryan in reply, trying to play it cool, but his breathing was rapid and shallow.
Scott firmly pushed down on Ryan's belly and produced a burp from Ryan. It was loud, long and rattled around the room. A couple of people looked at the pair with confused looks before wrinkling their noses. Ryan had gone bright red again as he also let out an involuntary whine. He looked wide eyed at Scott, knowing he was now forever putty in this man's hands.
"You know what? We're not washing our clothes next week," declared Scott. "We're getting you new ones. But keep the hoodie."
Ryan nodded, eyes shining.
Scott leaned in even closer to Ryan than before. "And I'll be paying for your takeaways from now on," he whispered. "As long as you video call me each time you do."
Strike putty. Ryan was just going to be butter. Melted butter in Scott's hands.
Feedist kinktober list by Fatguarddog
Accidentally made this one longer than intended again... oops
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