Creature Comforts 1
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as perversion, casual misogyny, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Lloyd is feeling a new weight on him and his friend, Lee, offers to help take the load off by finding some fun in the sun with some special ladies.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen (POV), Lee Bodecker, plus sized OCs
Note: I've had this on my mind and I thought it would be interesting to change the perspective and maybe make some OCs.
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Do one kind thing for yourself today and take care.💖
Lloyd Hansen might lack self-awareness but he’s never been short of self-confidence. He’s never shied away from a fight or a fuck. Still, even for him, a man above all others, change is hard. Change is new and different.
He tries not to think about it. Tries not to notice how his belt digs in more than before. How he can feel the new softness pillowing over the designer logo at his waist. Well, fuck you, he's not buying a new wardrobe. You think he can replace his vintage Armani jackets?
He growls as he sucks in his guts as much as he can. He doesn’t get it. He works out as much as ever. He’s even doubled his crunches, as much as he fucking hates them. More than that bitch in the condo under his that keeps leaving nasty notes about his parking. Fuck her, he pays his fees. Does a woman with an ass that tight even have an opening left?
He twitches. It’s been… a while. It’s not really that he can’t find someone to bend over or put on their back, he just hasn’t tried. He’s been distracted. And he just wants his damn body to behave. Even now, he’s getting hard for no reason.
He growls and shifts. He checks his watch. He doesn't usually wait on people, they wait on him. Bodecker’s lucky he's halfway interesting.
Lloyd examines the rough edge of his pinky nail. He cancelled his last manicure. He doesn't know the fuck why. He just didn't feel like it.
He sighs as he runs his thumb nails along the slightly jagged edge.
“Sir, did you need more water?” The waitress startles him.
“Fuck balls.” He sneers. “I'll let ya know when I need you.”
“Yes, sir.” She chimes in the fake honey voice they all put on. He's never been stupid like those other jackasses. These bitches work for their tips, he just knows that if he's extra nice, he can give them an extra one when he wants too. Well, not today. That skinny-waisted bitch doesn't deserve the privilege.
The place is quiet. That’s why he likes the place. It’s out of reach to most people that make him want to shoot himself in the balls. They can’t even afford to clear his plate in this place.
“Sweetheart,” the syrupy drawl crawls through the air.
Lloyd glances over at his long-awaited breakfast partner arrives through the open gate of the patio. Lee Bodecker pulls down his sunglasses to wink at the hostess, brazen in his short-sleeve button-up, the top undone to show off some of his wiry grey chest hairs. His pudgy stomach pillows over his brown belt that doesn’t match his black shoes, but it doesn’t deter the effect of his greeting.
The man is more confident in his cheap aviators and knock-off Rolex than those wannabe crypto bros in their overpriced polos and ill-fitting Cartier frames. Lloyd doesn’t envy any but he admires Lee for his arrogance. He isn’t oblivious to himself, he just doesn’t care.
“Ah, I see my buddy, sweetheart,” Lee’s timbre carries over to Lloyd as he points with a thick finger. “You think you can bring us some mimosas.”
“Certainly, sir. Anything else?” She toys with the wave at the front of her hair.
“I’ll let ya know,” Lee pushes his aviators back up his nose and lifts a palm in recognition of Lloyd. He struts across the patio, no, saunters.
He pulls the chair back slowly and grips the back, sliding out his phone and wallet to place on the table before he sits. He leans back and sighs. Just by his posture, you can tell his knees are wide under the tablecloth. He rubs the back of his neck, his arm bulging with unexpected muscle, as he slides off his sunglasses with his other hand.
He yawns and lets his arms fall down to the chair rests. He sucks his teeth and eyes up Lloyd.
“You look like you haven’t tasted pussy in months.” He scoffs.
Lloyd is rarely caught off guard, but he is. Can he see it or is he just being a jackass? Well, it’s Lee. Of course he’s being a cunt.
“Took ya long enough.”
“You’re early,” Lee tosses back coolly.
Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Still in a different time zone. Just got back.”
“Em,” Lee grunts and sets down his glasses. “All work, no ass play.”
Even for Lloyd, it’s a bit much. It’s nine in the morning.
“Well, I’m here. I’d’ve loved to have my morning lie-in, Hansen. Wake myself up nice and slow with my hand on my–” He sits up and tilts his head to the waitress as she approaches. She sets down two tall glasses with orange slices on the brim. “Thanks, sugar. That’s perfect. We get some menus?”
“Yes, sir…” she smiles. “Anything else?”
“Nah, just that for now,” Lee purrs.
Lloyd watches the waitress go with a twitch of agitation in his lip. He runs his finger over his mustache and huffs. He shifts in his chair again. When she returns with the menus, he lets her place it in front of him as Lee eagerly accepts his own. She goes and Lloyd leans his chin in his hand.
“Now that sounds good. Paradise stack with whipped cream.” Lee peruses the options. Getting no response, he glances up at the other man. “What’s wrong? You already eat?”
“I don’t need a damn menu.” Lloyd reaches down to adjust his belt and tugs the front of his shirt.
Lee shrugs and looks back to his menu. “Hmmm. Apple maple sausage. Savoury and sweet. Same’s been said about me.”
Lloyd lifts his head and rubs his fingertips together. He flicks his middle finger restlessly. He gestures to the waitress with a scowl. “Coffee. Black.”
She responds at once. She’s doing her best to get that tip. Good luck. He’s annoyed and he’s not feeling it.
As the waitress fills his mug, Lee sets down his menu. “We’ll order. I’ll take the Tropics Platter and a side of that sausage you got. French toast with whip, and sourdough with marmalade, sweetheart.”
She takes his menu and preens, “got it.” She looks at Lloyd. “And you, sir?”
“Egg white omelet. Two pieces bacon. Fruit cup, no bananas.” Lloyd grits and slides the menu over.
She takes the menus and turns away. Lee scoffs then tuts. Lloyd crosses his arms and glares at him.
“Whatsa matter, boy?” Lee asks.
“I’m two years older than you,” Lloyd snips.
“And I look the reverse,” Lee chortles. “What’s this eggs white bullshit?”
“Nothing. Late night. Don’t want nothing heavy.”
“Uh huh. I see you chafin’ over there.” Lee slurps on his mimosa then licks his glistening lips. “And I see that meat in ya belly. Ain’t no hidin’ it.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“You’re comin’ of age,” Lee snickers. “Why you such a bitch about it?” Lee slaps his stomach. “Ladies love the padding.”
“I fucking don’t.” Lloyd mutters.
“Ya for real? Pretty boy Hansen and his midlife crisis.”
“No.”
“Yeah.” Lee insists. “Nah, you don’t get it. It’s nothin’ wrong with extra. It’s fuckin’ nice, actually. You put her on top, she can bounce a lil on it. Or from behind, you get that nice clap–”
“They can’t see you from behind, that’s why,” Lloyd rolls his eyes.
Lee laughs, loud. “There he is. Those balls still clenched up inside or you loosening up?”
“I’m not– I’m just–”
“How long it been?” Lee asks.
Lloyd leans his head back and exhales slow. He feels his shirt ride up at the bottom of his stomach. Fuck, piss, shit.
“Longest I’ve gone,” Lloyd straightens up. “I don’t know. Just haven’t… bothered.”
“Guy, you need a vacation.” Lee claps his hands. “Good thing for you, I was just thinkin’ bout headin’ outta town. Gettin’ some sun and fun. Them kitties on the beach are tipsy and toasted. Ready for the fucking.”
“How about a resort?”
“How about you get out of your own goddamn ass and leave it to me? I’m gonna find you the best thing you had since never. You just gotta lean into it.” Lee grins. “The belly, that is. Ladies love it.”
Lloyd rolls his shoulders. “I’m not… you know, whatever. Fine. You foot the bill, I’ll go.”
“Uh huh. Just you wait, buddy. Lloyd’s gonna get his groove back.”
“I’m not a fucking menopausal bitch.” Lloyd barks.
“Coulda fooled me.”
🩲
Lee is right. Despite his delivery. Lloyd needs a break and Susan can go to hell and stop calling.
He snarls at his car system, “do not fucking disturb.”
The automated British woman responds, “setting notifications to do not disturb.”
Whatever. Probably for the best. He doesn’t need to be concerned with all that shit. If it’s not one thing, then it’s another.
He follows the GPS up a slight incline, along a curving road that looks out onto the rippling lake. He kills the A/C and rolls down the windows. He can smell the freshness; the water, the trees, even the dirt smells better out here. Why the fuck did he ever like the city?
He pulls up to the house with white wash on the siding, an awning over a large deck, with steps that lead down to a winding trail over the incline. He parks beside Lee’s tacky old Cadillac. He takes a moment, stretching his neck and his fingers. Lee’s as close to a friend that he has. The guy’s a bit much but they get each other.
He gets out and shuts the door, eyeing the facade of the lake house. He goes to the trunk and pops it open. He blindly slings his bag over his shoulder. He can smell bbq already.
The deck creaks as Lee emerges from around the corner of the house. He’s shirtless, with a visor around his large head, his hair chest glistening with sweat above the edge of the apron strained across his square belly. He points the spatula in his hand at Lloyd as he approaches the railing.
“There’s the man. Hurry the fuck up and crack a beer.”
“Beer?” Lloyd echoes. “I brought my own stuff, thanks.”
“Uh huh. Hoity toity scotch drinker,” he retorts.
“Damn right.” Lloyd trods up to the bottom of the steps. He climbs one at a time.
Even with his shirt only half buttoned, he feels… thicker. He sets his bag on the patio table as he passes and Lee returns to the grill. He flips the sausages sizzling over the flame.
“Any chicken dogs?” Lloyd asks.
“Fuck yourself. We’re not down for that. We’re eatin’ good.” Lee snorts. “And I don’t just mean food.”
Lloyd puts his hands on his hips and paces. He nears the far railing and looks off at the lake below. He examines the jagged path down the shore. In the distance, he can see a speckling along the public side of the beach.
“We’re gonna eat till we’re full then we’ll go down and find some nice sweet things that we can fill up too.” Lee slithers.
“Sure,” Lloyd grumbles.
“Christ, pal. You got a twist in your jock?” Lee jabs him with the spatula. Lloyd spins away and tries to wipe the grease from his sleeve.
“Dude, this is designer.”
“Not my fault you wore it out here.”
“You brought me here,” Lloyd drones.
“Don’t act like you don’t need it. Wing men, alright? You don’t even gotta do nothin’. Let me do the lookin’ and the talkin’. I’ll find us the perfect little kittens.” Lee snickers into a groan. He rubs his stomach through the apron and shamelessly lets his hand hover just over his crotch. “You even jerk off these days?”
“Why? You got a free hand?”
Lee booms with laughter.
“Love ya, bud. Nah.” He turns the sausages again. “It ain’t like one of those… they got pills these days–”
“Don’t even.” Lloyd warns as he slaps Lee’s arm. “Fine. You think you can find me something good, go for it. But I’m not in the mood for twenty questions about Lloyd’s cock. It works just fine. Almost too good.” He crosses his arms and sighs. “I wake up and it won’t fucking stop.”
“Ha, yeah. They say that shit stops after puberty.” Lee shakes his head. “Can’t remember the last time I wasn’t ragin’ hard.”
