sure, robby was quite hypervigilant when it came to whether dennis was eating enough or not, sue him, whatever. his boyfriend had spent over a year homeless while in med school, and had had steady food for none of that period of time. he'd been stealing food from the hospital just to get anything in his stomach, for fuck's sake! his boy had been pale, and grey, and not at all healthy, badly malnourished- of course now that dennis was safe and living with him and they were together he was going to make sure dennis got the best of the best.
the only issue was that, if left to his own devices, dennis *still* wouldn't eat enough. he'd hoard food instead (which shattered robby's heart every time he noticed), or try and ration how much he had so as not to cause a dent in the food robby had bought, believing that he had no right to eat things he hadn't been able to financially compensate to. he'd only allow himself enough to get by, and robby couldn't let it go on. his mouse deserved to have a full belly, fed with all the highest quality ingredients.
this was how the hand feeding all started, really. dennis would eat if robby presented him directly with a cooked meal, so robby starts to cook more, so he can feed dennis more. he's frying vegetables and cooking sauces and brazing meat and roasting potatoes, the whole lot. and yes- he'll place the full plate in front of his dennis, and he'd eat. robby's shoulders would relax and he could take a deep breath again- his body was fed and full and healthy. whenever dennis's stomach was full, robby was happy.
but one day, after a shift that had run over, dennis is just too tired to stay awake for dinner. they'd been on shift fourteen hours, and awake for sixteen. the younger was dead on his feet and it was a given to him that he would just skip dinner that night- he'd survived so much worse after all. he was even too tired to see the look of abject horror that passed over his boyfriends face as he said this. robby was on his feet immediately, holding dennis close to him and trying to dissuade him.
"mouse, no, i can't let you do that. you've barely eaten all day- we didn't get a chance at work, and you know you don't eat much in the mornings, you need food in you, please... i can practically hear your stomach growling as we speak!"
"but robby... i'm so tired... just let me sleep, i don't have the energy to feed myself..."
an idea pinged to life in robby's head.
"then i'll feed you, sweetheart. you can sit and doze in my lap or something, and i'll feed you, and all you have to do is open your mouth, yeah? then we can go to bed. you'll feel terrible if you don't eat, mousey."
dennis paused. really, that sounded pretty good. he did like snuggling in his boyfriend's lap, after all. what harm would it do?
"mmmkay, fine. but quick... i'm tired.."
and that was how they ended up, fifteen minutes later with robby having reheated a generous portion of chicken and vegetables and sauce from a few days ago, making some rice to go with it (carbohydrates were good, carbohydrates would keep his dennis full and fuelled and healthy... add some more rice, robby), and settling down on the sofa with dennis firmly slumped in his lap.
dennis did have his eyes closed, and was leaning back on robby's chest, basking in the warmth and smell and safety of simply being with his robby. he was pretty hungry though... luckily, that was the moment that robby lifted the first forkful of dinner to his lips.
"open up, sweetie. there's dinner for you here."
dennis followed the order without question, letting it fall open and closing it when robby posted the warm, tasty food into his mouth. he chewed and swallowed and sighed in relief at the feeling of it landing in his belly. robby was delighted at the evidence of dennis's enjoyment of the cooking.
"good boy, good boy, okay, more is coming now, more food..."
dennis opened up again and the process repeated. one of robby's hands- the hand not holding the fork- came down to rest on dennis's belly, and rubbed back and forth, back and forth as his tummy was filled. tell dennis to open. feed him. let him chew and swallow. rub his belly and praise him. repeat.
they'd both fallen into a rhythm so quickly- it just felt natural. robby felt settled and calm and like he was doing exactly what he was made to do, ensuring that the ones he loved the most were safe and cared for. feeling his precious boy's tummy round out and fill under his hand as he fed him just... felt right. it felt like it was his purpose. dennis was similarly blissed out. this was one of the only times he hadn't felt guilty, or like he was wasting food he could've saved- robby had taken all the worry out of his hands, and was filling his belly fuller than it had been in all 18 months of homelessness. it felt good, to have the decision and anxiety removed.
robby was praising him, robby was feeding him, robby was caring for him. he felt lighter than he had in... possibly ever. he couldn't help but arch his belly into the hand that rubbed it slightly, like a puppy getting scratched behind the ear. he was still so, so sleepy...
robby felt dennis snuggle up to his hand more, and had to physically stop himself from cooing. the plate was empty by now, and he was pleased and deeply satisfied with the curve he could see through dennis's scrub top. no more aching, empty belly for *his* boy, dennis is nice and full of everything good and nutritious, and now he'll sleep well on robby's chest when they crawl into bed.
"you're the perfect boy, denny. you ate that all so well, and i know you feel so much better now you're full. i know, i know, you're a sleepy thing now, and we'll get to bed in a minute. i'm proud of you, pup. you're so good for me, eating everything."
dennis, half awake and held close to robby, preened. he was good. he was full and sleepy and robby was happy. and well, being fed like that was... really goddamn nice.
robby agreed. it didn't matter if dennis was tired or not now- this became their new routine. every leisurely meal at home was fed to dennis by his boyfriend, the younger having to do nothing but sit back and open his mouth, and robby would make sure he was well-fed. sometimes dennis would even wait on the sofa, blinking sweetly at robby to signify that he'd like a snack.
the hoard in his dresser draw was checked on less frequently these days. robby kept him so nice and full and safe.
