He can’t be THAT good...
(Hinakamuegi stuffing)
Na.egi Ma.koto frowns as he lets out a sigh. His pudgy stomach surges forward, pushing the zipper of his pants down. He had tried everything, sucking in, laying down, he simply couldn’t get his work pants to button. “...Kamu.kura..?” He calls out hesitantly.
Izu.ru Kamu.kura steps into the doorway almost immediately. His face remains calm and composed, even though Na.egi is flushed red, and looking down in shame. “Uh… can- can you get me some new work clothes…? Mine aren’t fitting anymore…”
Kamu.kura nods and steps into the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of black work pants. “These should fit better,” he states before leaving. Na.egi swallows thickly and peels off the offending pants before pulling the other pair on. They were a little small, but at least they would button. He quickly slips a white work shirt on before grabbing his suit jacket on his way out of the apartment. “Love you!” he shouts before heading out. As soon as the door closes, Kamu.kura ties his hair up and slips an apron on. It was time to start cooking dinner.
Na.egi sighs and plops down in his office chair. He knew he had been gaining weight recently, but Kamu.kura either didn’t notice, or just hadn’t pointed it out yet. He absentmindedly runs a hand over his stomach as he hears a knock at the door. He blushes slightly. “Come in!”
A young intern walks in, holding a stack of files. “Um… Kiri.giri-san asked me to bring these to you, Na.egi-san.”
“Oh, thanks Hin.ata-kun!” Na.egi beams up at the intern. Coincidentally, Na.egi had met his current boyfriend through this coworker, Ha.jime Hin.ata. Hinata had introduced them at a party celebrating Kamu.kura’s big promotion a few months ago.
“Oh… she also wanted me to give you this,” Hin.ata adds, holding out a single sheet of paper. Na.egi frowns, taking it. “It’s a form for a new uniform. She said yours isn’t fitting that well anymore…”
Na.egi flushes and looks down. “It- it’s not my fault…” he mutters weakly. “It’s Kamu.kura, he’s way too good at cooking.” Hin.ata lets out a snort and rolls his eyes.
“Look, that bastard is way too good at most things, but it’s hard to believe he’d actually put that much effort into cooking for anyone. He hates cooking.”
Na.egi pouts and crosses his arms. “Then why don’t you come over some day? So you can see just how much he cooks lately.”
“He must have changed a lot for you to be telling the truth. Oh, I guess I’m mildly interested. When are you guys free?” he asks.
Na.egi pulls out a small pocket calendar from a desk drawer and flips through the pages. “Hmm… looks like we’re both good this Tuesday and Wednesday. Which works better for you?”
“Ah, I have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday. Let’s do Wednesday,” he says. Na.egi nods excitedly and puts the pocket book back. He couldn’t wait for Hin.ata to find out just how wrong he was.
The rest of the work day is dull, Na.egi flipping through hours of mindless paperwork, signing things, and passing them up to management. He stands up from his desk and blushes as his stomach brushes past the edge of his desk. There had been free donuts and cupcakes in the employee lounge, and he had had way more than he originally thought. He swears internally and hopes that Kamu.kura didn’t have another large dinner planned for him.
----
He was wrong, of course.
After multiple large courses of mouth-watering lasagna, bowls upon bowls of creamy alfredo, and heaping plates of Italian meatballs, Na.egi lets out a quiet whimper and his arms flop to his side. “Kamu.kura… th- these dinners…. I’ve been putting on a lot of weight lately…” he whines.
Kamu.kura frowns and kneels down next to him, rubbing circles on his overfed belly. “Is it upsetting you?” he asks. As always, his face conveys no emotions, no hint of what he was thinking.
Na.egi blushes and sputters, trying to respond, but his mind feels fuzzy. Kamu.kura’s hands kneading his painfully stuffed belly made him feel weak, as he squirmed slightly. He lets out a quiet belch into his fist and looks away. “Everyone in the office just thinks… the- they think I’m doing this myself…”
“You are, are you not? I only provide food for you, but you are the one who stuffs yourself to this capacity.”
Kamu.kura’s words do not help the situation. Na.egi can’t necessarily deny that, even though he sure tries. He can’t justify it even to himself, because Kamu.kura was right and he knew it. He sighs. “Hin.ata-kun doesn’t believe that your cooking is this good… so I told him he could come over for dinner on Wednesday to prove him wrong.”
Kamu.kura pouts, pressing a finger roughly into Na.egi’s stomach. The noise Na.egi lets out makes him stutter and cover his mouth with embarrassment. “Wh- what was that for?”
“I did not give you permission to invite Hin.ata over.”
Na.egi huffs and tries to rub at his own stomach to soothe it. “He- he started talking about the weight I’d gained, and he said I needed a new uniform and I tried to explain that this only happened because of your cooking! But… he didn’t believe me…”
Kamu.kura lets out a quiet chuckle and plants a gentle kiss on Naegi’s neck. “We have been over this. This is not my doing, but yours. You need to start taking responsibility for your own gluttony,” he states monotonously. Na.egi blushes again, looking down. “I… can cancel with him if you want me to… I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”
“He may come over, but I will need time to prepare dinner for the both of you.”
Na.egi perks up, leaning forward to kiss Kamu.kura in excitement. But his tummy weighs him down, and he flops back into the chair with a small huff.
Kamu.kura gently wraps his arm around Na.egi’s waist and pulls him up, helping him walk down the hallway and into the bedroom. He pulls Na.egi’s work clothes off his grossly overstuffed form, tossing the basically worthless scraps on the floor. He crawls in bed next to his soft lover and pulls a blanket over them both, turning light out.
-----
The days leading up to Hin.ata’s visit were fairly uneventful. Na.egi would wake up, struggle to get dressed, go to work, snack all day, and come home to Kamu.kura’s unfairly good cooking. This continued until Tuesday evening, after work, when Hin.ata walked into Na.egi’s office at the end of his shift. “Hey Na.egi-san. You ready to head out?”
Na.egi presses the power button on his monitor and nods, standing up with a quiet ‘oof’. Damn… he had overdone it today, too. He feels his center of balance shift as he stands, and he rests a hand on his stomach. “Yeah, just let me grab my jacket.”
Hin.ata watches him, silently judging the shorter boy for eating so much at work. He had seen Na.egi sneak into the break room multiple times to bring food to eat mindlessly at his desk. He had seen Na.egi make trips to the vending machine, buying multiple sugary drinks and fattening snacks to stock pile in a drawer. He knew Na.egi was blaming his weight gain on his new partner, Kamu.kura, but seeing how Naegi acts at work, Hin.ata sincerely doubts that.
The two brunettes make their way downstairs to the street to hail a cab together. They both climb in the back of the taxi, and Na.egi leans forward to give the address to the driver. The ride only takes around 10 minutes. Hin.ata passes a couple of dollars to his coworker, who adds his own half, and gives it to the driver. They both thank the driver and step out onto the sidewalk.
Na.egi climbs up the stairs to the apartment and unlocks the door. Hin.ata stands behind him, and is taken aback when the strong aromas of Kamu.kura’s cooking hit him square in the face. Na.egi giggles as he sees Hin.ata stumble forward, not even bothering to take his work jacket off, and sit down at the dining table. Having been subject to this before, Na.egi has enough self control to take his shoes and jacket off before sitting down and filling his plate.
----
He had doubted every word, up until that damn door was opened.
Hin.ata had known Kamu.kura since they were both kids, and they had grown up together. Kamu.kura was apathetic, cold, and didn’t have any motivation to do anything. To hear that his old acquaintance (Hinata wasn’t sure he could call him a friend, exactly) had changed so much as to start cooking this much for Na.egi, for Na.egi to have gained this much weight…
It didn’t make any sense.
He had sincerely doubted it.
He knew he was wrong the second the door opened.
His mouth starts drooling before he even sits down. He sits down at the dining table, grabbing a plate and piling it high with everything in reach. He vaguely registers Na.egi sitting down next to him, grabbing his own plate and filling it with whatever he can.
Hin.ata’s mind is a complete blur. All he can process is the continual flow of food being stuffed down his throat. Tender roast that melts in his mouth, creamy potatoes that slide down his throat, freshly buttered rolls with a perfectly crispy crust. He continues shoveling everything in reach into his gullet, without regard for how quickly he’s filling up. His stomach balloons forward, pushing against the buttons on his shirt. His fork hits the bottom of his plate, and his mind clears for a moment. He lets out a quiet groan and presses a hand against his stomach, trying to comfort it.
“K-Kamu.kura…” he whines, squirming in his seat. Na.egi continues shoving food into his mouth, not hearing Hin.ata. He was already on his third plate. Kamu.kura steps forward, a ghost of a smirk present on his face. “Is there a problem, Hin.ata?”
“It- it hurts… it’s too much…” he moans. Kamu.kura kneels down beside his chair and presses a warm hand against his flesh. Hin.ata’s face flushes and he turns away.
“Then stop,” Kamu.kura says simply. “That’s all you have to do. Don’t fill your plate again, and don’t keep going.”
Even with direct instruction not to, Hin.ata finds himself sitting forward and piling more food onto his plate. Kamu.kura watches with a smirk, continuing to rub circles on his belly. Hin.ata feels and hears his belly gurgle in protest, but he can’t stop his hands from moving.
Na.egi slumps back, groaning, and looks over at Hin.ata and Kamu.kura with bleary eyes. “Is… he alright..?” Na.egi asks between heavy pants. Kamu.kura nods, continuing to rub Hin.ata’s bloated tummy. Hin.ata moans around a particularly large bite of pasta, and he hears a loud ping. He looks down and blushes deeply as he stomach surges forward. He had actually eaten so much that a button had popped off of his shirt.
“Do.. you see what I mean..?” Na.egi asks quietly.
Hin.ata doesn’t have the strength to give a snappy response.