Doughnuts
Last one for double dip. I kind of got onto a roll with them. I really could have taken this drabble and turned it into a oneshot but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe I’ll write a longer version of it next month. What do you guys think?
Fandom: Voltron / Pairing: Klance / Prompts: Quarantine and taste tester / Words: 958
Warning: This is a weight gain/kink story. Don’t like, don’t read.
Keith leaned against the counter top across from Lance, wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of Lance’s t-shirts. He’d put on a little bit of quarantine weight. Nothing Lance would have noticed and nothing he couldn’t lose once they were allowed out into the world again.
When everything started shutting down due to COVID-19, Keith and Lance made the decision to quarantine together. They were a few days shy of their six months anniversary and so helplessly in love with each other, they weren’t sure they’d survive the pandemic without the other’s touch. But, where Keith was lucky and was able to work from home, Lance was required to help his family at their bakery.
“Try this,” he said to Keith, plopping a blue box down beside his boyfriend one day after work. The words McClain Bakery were written in thick, cursive font across the lid.
When Keith opened the box, he was greeted by the smell of warm vanilla and almonds. A single doughnut was in the center. It looked edible enough but that didn’t stop Keith from raising a brow.
Lance was the bakery’s barista and hardly ever dabbled in baked goods.
“It’s not poisonous, I swear. It’s just, with business extremely slow right now, I figured we should try to mix up the menu,” he explained, sitting across from Keith.
Keith’s gaze slid back to the doughnut. “Vanilla and almond are… mixing it up?”
“This is just one of the many flavors I have in mind. Change doesn’t happen overnight.”
“And it’s edible?”
Lance fixed him with a glare. “Just eat it, ass hat.”
Slowly, but surely, Keith raised the doughnut to his lips and took a small bite. The dryness struck him first however the rich vanilla was enough to make it at least somewhat enjoyable. “This is your first attempt, right?” Lance’s gaze narrowed, making Keith squirm. “I - it’s good, really. Lance, it’s good.”
“But…”
“It’s dry.” Then, hoping to soften the blow, he took another bite. “Not enough that it’s bad. I really like the vanilla.”
That quelled Lance’s anger. He deflated, sinking back in his chair, before leaping up. “I’ll grab you some milk, as long as you want the rest.”
Keith, wanting to keep his boyfriend, eagerly nodded.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Keith continued to taste test for Lance. At first it started as a few times a week but quickly became more frequent. One doughnut turned into two, two turned into three. Keith went from eating half of a doughnut to eating three in one sitting. And the doughnuts, thankfully, got better.
“I’ve come a long way from vanilla and almonds, huh?” Lance asked two months later. He was prideful and Keith couldn’t disagree. He was steadily improving. To the extent that Keith was starting to get cravings for them on days Lance didn’t bring any home.
He leaned against the counter top across from Lance, wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of Lance’s t-shirts. He’d put on a little bit of quarantine weight. Nothing Lance would have noticed and nothing he couldn’t lose once they were allowed out into the world again.
Licking the strawberry frosting off of his fingertips, he agreed, “How many flavors are you thinking of coming up with?”
“I don’t know. Depends on how long quarantine goes on for.”
As much as that answer sent a thrill through Keith, he also felt a pang of worry. He was starting to really like the doughnuts. He couldn’t say so much for his waistline. But he was sure that part of him could just deal with it. It’s not like quarantine would go on forever.
A week or so later and sweatpants were all Keith could fit into and, even then, they were digging into his hips more every day. He had sprouted a double chin and, only after Lance playfully poked at his middle did he notice his potbelly.
He worked five days a week for eight hours a day and the one time he ventured to the gym (which was now opened), he witnessed several people refusing to wear masks. Not to mention all the side glances he received from all the regulars he saw. He had put on fifteen pounds, not sprouted wings.
Halfway through summer, he finally caved and bought new pants. Both jeans and sweats. At that point, Lance was giving him half a dozen doughnuts a day. He’d usually eat them after dinner when they cuddled together watching TV. They weren’t dry anymore.
“As light as these are, they really sit in your stomach, you know,” Keith finally commented one night. He sat back on the sofa, the box of doughnuts empty and discarded. He had adjusted his new sweats so that the waistband was under his growing gut. He hadn’t checked the scale recently but he knew this was more than just fifteen pounds.
Worry sparkled in Lance’s eyes, making Keith want to eat his words. “I don’t have to bring you as many anymore. Maybe just the new flavors - or improvements,” he said.
Keith shifted. Despite how stuffed he was, he still felt his whole body wobble from the movement. “No, it isn’t that. I like the doughnuts. It’s just…” Was now the time to point the very obvious fact out to Lance that he had put on quarantine weight?
“They can be really filling,” Lance said, before he could come to a decision. Reaching out, he ran a soothing hand across Keith’s middle. He had to bite his tongue to stop the moan that threatened to pass his lips. “Does this help?”
He silently nodded, his face puffy and red from both the doughnuts and Lance.
The next night when Lance brought home more doughnuts, he didn’t even ask Keith if he wanted his belly rubbed. He just started doing it. It happened the next night, the following night, the rest of the week. Keith stopped suppressing his moans when he touched him and Lance started adding more doughnuts in every box.
