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lessthanconventional · 2 days

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I just read the phrase "long boozy lunch" and I am high-key obsessed with it. Brunch cocktails for the beans, mayhaps? A fancyish restaurant with a waitress that finds their banter adorable? A house special that comes with the sweetest strawberry jam on the side? A tipsy walk home and an afternoon nap? A day spent on luxury and not survival or some ideal of "productivity"? Idk if you're still taking prompts but this one just STRUCK me 💕

Micah grinned across the table just as a frothy glass was set down in front of him, brimming with chocolate syrup and creamy foam. “You sure you’re okay with being designated driver, Cole? We could call a cab or something. Look what you’re missing out on.”

Cole laughed and shook his head. “C’mon dude, we’ve been over this - me and alcohol don’t mix. Runs in the family, really. You enjoy your mudslide and I’ll be perfectly happy with my shake.” He scooped up a dollop of whipped cream dotted with sprinkles and popped it past his lips. “Besides, it’s kinda nice to be the hero once in a while.”

“And what a hero you are.” Sasha winked over her bourbon tea and squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “Goddesses, I’m looking forward to this. Haven’t had a break in what feels like forever.”

It was the end of spring semester, and after a grueling round of finals for all involved, the six of them had decided they were going to plan something fun and indulgent, damn it. Sasha and Jordan had sniffed out a fancy restaurant near campus that served an elaborate sunday brunch buffet and it was agreed they’d all meet up and splurge. Elijah had offered to help Micah cover his meal, and in return, Micah was determined to help his best friend stay relaxed and have a good time.

Step one would be offering plenty of cuddles, so Micah picked up his glass and scooted backwards on the cushions until he was snuggled into Elijah’s chest. He felt a hum behind his back before one big arm wrapped around him happily, giving him a squeeze.

“You enjoying your vodka buck, big guy?” Sasha nudged with a smile.

Step two, alcohol. Which probably could use some unpacking - eventually - but Micah figured that as far as brunch went, it’d be harmless. The fizzy ginger beer cocktail was already half gone in Elijah’s other hand, and there was an encouraging absence of tension around his eyes.

“Mmhm.” Elijah took another sip. “I’m surprised it took us so long to find this place. I have never noticed it before, despite it being so close to campus. They certainly have a strong aesthetic.”

It really was a special-looking kinda place. There was a big dining area in the middle of the restaurant, which boasted a crystal chandelier and long tables draped with pristine white tablecloths. A row of tall windows faced a smaller dining area on the veranda, and within the rays of sunshine streaming indoors, another small seating area was arranged with plush wicker benches and a scattering of potted fountains and rock gardens, each bubbling merrily and decorated with snail shells. That’s where their group had parked themselves, tempted by the comfy seats, more casual atmosphere, and pretty decor.

“Jordan’s mom heard about it through the professor grapevine at the school, right Jordan?” Sasha reached across the table to pass Micah a napkin for his whipped cream mustache. “I guess since it’s more of a high-class place so students might not be as familiar with it.”

“Exactly that.” Jordan stirred their mojito with their straw. “It’s a popular spot for teachers and faculty, apparently. Mom swears by their pancakes.”

“Goddesses, I can’t wait to get a plate of pancakes.” Micah grinned, gulping down another chocolate-drizzled mouthful of his drink. “I saw french toast up there too, and homemade donuts.”

“How does it work again?” Cole flicked an ear and glanced at his datemate. “We gotta wait our turn?”

“Yep, but once we go up the first time, we don’t have to wait to be called again for refills.” Jordan gestured up towards the buffet tables. “They start you off with drinks and then call sections of diners up according to when you arrived, I think to keep a more orderly process and avoid crowding. We should be getting called in the next fifteen minutes or so.”

It wasn’t even quite that long. About ten minutes later, a member of staff came by with a second round of drinks and some warmed plates for the buffet. Micah jumped up excitedly and headed for the pancake station, only to stop short with a squeak as Elijah’s strong arm closed around him.

“I think you should get some protein too, Micah.”

“Aw, El.” Micah huffed, ignoring their giggling friends as they parted around the two of them. “It’s a treat day! It’s supposed to be for fun. Who cares?”

“I do.” Elijah released him and waited until he’d turned around and looked up at him. “I think you would be able to have more sweets if you even had a little protein. Otherwise I think you will get overwhelmed much sooner than you would like.”

Micah made a show of rolling his eyes and grumbled again when his friend gently ruffled his curls. “Okay, fine. What should I get for protein?”

“I’m certain we can find something you would enjoy, perhaps almost as much as pancakes.”

Elijah was right. There was a seemingly endless variety of incredible dishes available; both from make-to-order stations at the buffet and from menus that could be ordered directly to the table. Micah held Elijah by one enormous hand as they watched a chef fry up a pan of bacon and eggs, then divide it into two bowls for them, laying the hot food over a bed of fresh white rice. They stopped at a station that had build-your-own breakfast wraps, and Micah’s mouth watered when Elijah fashioned him a pair, with roasted potatoes, more fluffy scrambled eggs, and pulled pork rich with barbecue sauce, swaddled in the softest tortilla he’d ever seen, and accompanied by a dish of melted cheese for dipping. And lastly, before getting to the much-anticipated pancake station, Elijah stopped for a thick slice of wheat toast, blanketed with cream cheese and layered with slices of smoked salmon. He offered Micah a bite, and it was salty and creamy and delicious, and Micah decided that if he still had room later, he might come back for a slice of his own.

The pancakes were being cooked on big griddles that lined one whole wall inside the restaurant. It was clearly a popular choice, with many guests placing orders, but the wait wasn’t long since there were several servers as well. Micah glanced around, decided there were three separate lines, and tugged on Elijah’s sleeve. “Why do you think everyone’s divided up like that?”

Elijah chuckled. “There are signs above the stations, Micah.”

“Oh.” Micah glanced up, and sure enough, painted wooden signs hung above each third of the wall of stovetops, “Pancakes,” “Hotcakes,” and “French Toast.”

“What’s the difference between a pancake and a hotcake?”

Elijah tilted his head a bit, considering for a moment, before he said, “I believe pancakes are thinner and cooked only in the pan. I’m not completely certain, so I could be wrong, but I may have heard somewhere that hotcakes are started in a pan and then baked in the oven for a few minutes before being served.”

“Mmm. Well, I guess we’ll find out. I want some of each.” And he grabbed a smiling Elijah by the hand again and dragged him towards the pancake line.

They quickly learned that in addition to different cooking methods, the pancakes and hotcakes offered different options for flavor. The pancakes were all made from the same buttermilk batter, all fluffy and golden brown, and served with dishes of creamy and fruity toppings that could be taken back to the table. Elijah selected a tart lemon curd and a compound mango fruit butter, and Micah scooped up three dishes; a cinnamon maple syrup, a banana walnut sauce, and a fudge ganache. He stacked a plate with three mid-sized pancakes, one for each topping.

The hotcakes, on the other hand, came with your ingredient-of-choice baked into the batter. Elijah ordered a blueberry hotcake for himself, and once it had been placed, steaming, on a plate, the chef piled it with a big spoonful of soft ricotta cheese and a spread of thick blueberry jam. Micah ordered a strawberry hotcake, and he watched as dried strawberries were chopped, crushed, and added directly to the batter, turning it a delicate shade of pink. The batter was poured into a hot oiled pan, fried until it got a crispy crust on the outside, then slid into an oven, rising into a domed treat that was drizzled with sweet strawberry sauce and garnished with whipped cream before being passed into his waiting hands.

Their last stop before returning to the table was the pastry table, also home to the restaurant’s selection of fresh fruit. Micah speared a few cubes of watermelon and tucked a couple of fresh strawberries on his already-overburdened set of plates, but it was the pastries he really had a hard time choosing from. In addition to danishes, cinnamon rolls, donuts, and croissants there was even a tray of cheesecake bites. In the end he took only one square of cheesecake, one small cherry danish, three donut holes, and — the big indulgence — one hefty cinnamon roll, dripping with cream cheese frosting. Elijah followed behind him with a dish of melon and kiwi and a pair of spicy little ginger snap cookies.

As they approached the table with their friends, Micah spotted a flash of blue, and he rushed to set his breakfast down so his hands would be free. Macy laughed happily as he threw his arms around her and squeezed tight. “Hey I’m so glad you made it! Your hair looks awesome! Did you just come from the salon?”

The girl grinned and tossed a lock of blue-and-purple behind her shoulder. “Sure did! I honestly wasn’t sure I’d end up going through with it — I kept telling myself ‘you know you can always just get the trim, maybe come back another day’ — but I’m so glad I didn’t chicken out this time. I honestly love it! Weirdly it… kinda makes me feel more like myself.”

“Fashion is confidence.” Sasha clucked and shot some finger guns, and a round of laughter went around the group.

“Did you get your food yet?” Micah peeked at the table but couldn’t really tell whose plate was whose.

“Not yet, but they told me I didn’t have to wait since most of my party was already here, so I was just about to go up. I did get a drink already though! It’s so cool - it’s gin and juice with extra lemon and a color-changing syrup that goes into it. I’ll mix it in as soon as I’m back and you can see what I mean.”

The rest of them settled into their seats and passed around more syrups and sprinkles while Macy loaded up her plate. Then as soon as she’d slid back into the wicker benches with everyone else, they all dug in.

“Cole.” Micah paused for a moment after he’d scarfed three bites of bacon and eggs. “I cannot believe I’m seeing this. You? Starting with something healthy?”

Cole’s ears flattened back against his head and he actually looked embarrassed. “Look, I like parfaits, okay? I’ve always liked them.”

“I’m so impressed. There’s even granola in there.”

“It makes it crunchy! I swear there’s plenty of sugar in here. The blueberries are like, sugar coated. Besides, Jordan is worse than me anyways.”

“Well, that’s a given.” Sasha giggled.

Jordan huffed dramatically. “No one here understands oatmeal and that’s a shame. Shame on all of you.”

Micah gestured towards his best friend with one thumb and a raised eyebrow. “Elijah eats oatmeal all the time! But you don’t see him getting it at a specialty brunch buffet.” He ignored the way Elijah covered an amused smile with a sip of coffee.

“I bet he’d like this, though.” Jordan tilted their bowl up so the table could see. “It’s got sweet peanut sauce, brown sugar cinnamon, and cream on top. These dark slices here - those are plum slices.”

“That does sound delicious,” Elijah started, and Micah pinched his side with a “Shhh!” More laughter, then the waiter came by again to refill their drinks.

Elijah finished off his vodka buck and got a fresh, tall glass crusted with salt, a “michelada” that he offered Micah a sip of. It was spicy, to his absolute horror, and Elijah laughed as Micah washed away the taste with a few hurried sips from the cold mimosa he’d just gotten. He focused back on his rice, eggs, and bacon, trading savory bites from the bowl with slices of fresh fruit from his third plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he made sure Elijah saw him eat all of his first round of protein before he went for his cinnamon roll.

It was so gooey and delicious, Micah decided he was in heaven on the first bite. There was so much cinnamon that the taste felt warm on the back of his tongue, and the cream cheese frosting was tangy and sweet and creamy. The layers of pastry gave easily under his fork, and every mouthful was perfectly chewy. He was so focused on his plate that the sounds and smells from the rest of the table around him faded into a blur until he was scraping the last drizzle of icing from his plate. He took another sip of his drink and sighed happily; if he wasn’t deliberately indulging, that would have been plenty for a typical breakfast for him. On top of the warm eggs and rice, the cinnamon roll’s solid sweetness felt comfortable and satisfying. Micah nursed his drink for a few more minutes, letting the bite of alcohol ease away any beginnings of fullness, then he tugged his saucer of breakfast wraps over and dipped the end of one in his bowl of cheese sauce.

Elijah had started on his own row of breakfast wraps and was clearly enjoying them. After the first taste of salted potatoes, rich cheese, and barbecue, Micah was glad he’d been talked into getting at least a couple. They were so incredibly good that his mouth watered again every time he swallowed, so that he was taking bigger bites after every dip in the bowl of cheese. He was trying to savor his last few bites before he realized it, then looked over when he felt a nudge on his elbow.

“The two of you just demolished those!” Macy laughed once she had his attention. “What are they? I’m gonna get one if I go back for refills.”

“Mmph.” Micah swallowed and washed down the mouthful with some of his drink, and he could the coldness of it settling around the warm food he’d been inhaling. “They’re from the make-your-own breakfast wrap station. Elijah made ‘em. Tell her what you put in them, El.”

“Flour tortilla, diced potatoes, scrambled eggs, and pulled pork. The cheese dip is monterey, it’s on the other side of the cheddar dip.”

“Sounds delicious.” Macy sipped her purple gin and juice. “I completely missed that station! I was after the breakfast casseroles.”

“Oh, those are right next to each other.” Sasha chuckled from across the table, lowering her fluffy sausage biscuit. “Does look good, though.”

“Was good.” Micah stifled a burp. “Kinda wish I’d gotten more than two.”

The girls both laughed again. “I don’t think you’ll even be able to finish what you got.” Sasha said with a wink. “You’re already slowing down and you have two full plates of pancakes!”

“One plate of pancakes—“ Micah pointed to it with a grin, then motioned to the other, “—and one hotcake that fills an entire plate.”

“Mmm, that hotcake does look amazing. Strawberries?”

“Yeah, they’re my favorite,” Micah nodded emphatically, then picked up his fork and cut a huge bite.

It was like eating strawberry cake. It felt like his birthday. It was so light and spongey, it melted in his mouth and the strawberry sauce tasted unlike anything he’d ever eaten before. It was even more concentrated than strawberry jam, and denser than strawberry syrup. It tasted like pure distilled summer sweetness. He took another bite, then lifted his napkin to banish the whipped cream from his face.

As delicious as the hotcake was, it was also weighty and he’d already eaten quite a lot of breakfast. He’d only gotten about a quarter of the way through the serving when he started to feel a heaviness tugging at the top of his belly, and about halfway through, he felt the barest twinge.

“Mmgh… gonna take a break.” Micah leaned back in his seat and rested a hand over his tummy, which had rounded out considerably beneath his t-shirt, which surprised him a little. But then he took a sip of his drink and felt it squeeze down and prompt a rumble, and he abruptly remembered he’d had four scrambled eggs, barbecue with potatoes, a big cinnamon roll, a pile of rice, several slices of bacon, a sizable cup of fruit, half an enormous hotcake, and drink refills, and suddenly he was feeling much fuller than he meant to get before pancakes.

With a little groan, half satisfaction and half dazedness, Micah pressed the heel of his hand against his side and rubbed a little at the full feeling under the edge of his ribs. He still had room, he was sure, he just needed to let everything settle for a few minutes. As the moments passed, the pulsing fullness gradually eased into more of a heavy satiation, and he surveyed what was left of his haul from the buffet. Sasha was probably right that he couldn’t fit all of the rest of his hotcake, three pancakes, and the remaining pastries he’d selected. But he decided that he’d at least get a taste of everything that was left.

He was probably going to need some help, but Elijah was absorbed in a plate of roasted pineapple and thick-cut ham, so Micah decided he’d wait to start on the pancakes when his best friend seemed ready for a break. Macy nearby was starting on a hazelnut scone and Cole had moved on to a chocolate croissant, so Micah followed suit and tucked into the pastries left on his plate. The raspberry cheesecake square he’d taken was thankfully small, and as soon as he bit into it, he couldn’t regret taking it. It was so creamy, smooth, and sweet, with an extra tang from the raspberry compote, and had such a crumbly crust that it was all he could do to keep from licking his lips too blatantly.

Next, he picked up one of his three donut holes. The yeasty dough had such a homemade taste, and the glaze tasted like it might have had a little bit of lemon juice in it, just a very little bit to complement the sugar. It was amazing, so soft and sweet and arguably light in comparison to the other treats on his plate. After swallowing, Micah eyed the remaining two, and decided they wouldn’t take up much room. He’d only eat half his cherry danish, then he’d save whatever space he had left to try at least some of each of his pancake toppers.

The danish was made with tart cherries, something Micah didn’t realize until he’d taken his first bite. They’d been cooked a long time in a sweet sauce to make up for it, and the flaky, sugar-crusted pastry perfectly pillowed the fruit, so much so that Micah almost wondered if it was even better than the cinnamon roll. He was still trying to remember exactly how warm and gooey that first bite of the cinnamon roll had been and whether or not it was a tier above the soft cherries in his mouth when the last bite passed his lips, a deep grumble of fullness traveled through his tummy, and he sat back in his chair with another groan. He blinked at the crumbs on his plate as he rubbed both palms over the front of his belly. Well, at least he hadn’t tried to dive through the second half of his hotcake.

“El,” He groaned softly when his tummy started rumbling and gurgling in earnest. A soft “Hmm?” answered him, then an arm wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m full, but I still really want to try the pancakes I got.”

Elijah chuckled softly, then pressed two fingers against Micah’s side, rubbing an expert circle that took the edge off how heavy and round he was feeling. “Are you sure? You feel very full, Micah.”

“I really do.” Micah complained, and tried to squirm into a more comfortable position. “But I really want to try them.”

“Alright.” Elijah put down his fork and gathered Micah against his chest, tugging the plate of pancakes over in front of them. He rested one warm supportive hand on the curve of Micah’s tummy, and the other just beneath his ribs, where it felt like that cherry danish was still swelling as it soaked up whipped cream and strawberry sauce. His best friend’s fingertips felt soothingly over the pressure, massaged, pressed in, and began to rub good feelings into just the right spot.

Micah sighed deeply, a wash of relief rolling through him, then picked up his first sauce and dumped it liberally over his first pancake.

It was the cinnamon maple syrup, and it was an excellent choice. Very sticky in a very satisfying way, and had such a strong flavor that Micah was reminded of the pure maple samples he’d tried in elementary school when their class had a guest speaker come to talk about the importance of natural resources outside the city. The cinnamon flavor had a bit more of a kick to it than he expected, and he realized there might also be clove and nutmeg dusted in. He’d taken three bites when his tummy protested, bubbling indignantly under the soothing circles Elijah was still rubbing, like it couldn’t believe he was still filling it.

Defiantly, Micah stuffed another bite down, then had to groan and clutch at his middle when it felt like his stomach walls stretched just a little too far in response. The resultant twinge quivered above his navel, and he felt Elijah rub a little deeper into his lower tummy, trying to encourage more room into every nook possible.

Deciding that half the maple pancake wasn’t a bad start, Micah folded the rest of the pancake over to the side, and spread his next pancake with the thick chocolate ganache. The chocolate was so rich that Micah could barely taste the pancake underneath, but that certainly wan’t a complaint. He thought of dense chocolate cookies and creamy mugs of cocoa and chocolate truffles filled with more soft chocolate inside. He paused for a moment to wipe chocolate from his lips a few bites in, and within a second, he realized how heavily and insistently his overfull insides were begging for a break.

Micah leaned back against Elijah’s chest and groaned, tugging his best friend’s hands to rest on either side of his tummy, dumbfounded by the rounded swell under his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so much, and he’d almost expected to be hitting a wall by now, but Elijah had probably been right earlier that he’d last longer with the protein cushioning his stomach, even if it did take up a little more room than he might have liked.

“Do you feel alright?” Elijah snuggled him a little closer and kissed his curls, and Micah started to laugh, then had to groan as he realized he didn’t have room to do that at the moment.

“Ugh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m just so full. Ughh… can’t believe that’s really my tummy.”

Elijah chuckled affectionately behind him. “Mmhm. I’m actually a bit impressed, Micah.” His warm palms drew soothing circles over his sides, and Micah relaxed into the steady rhythm of the tummy rub, feeling his enormous feast slowly start to relax under Elijah’s ministrations. A few minutes later, he reached for a glass of sparkling water that had been served to all of them at the start of the meal, and the carbonation helped him work up a few much needed burps. He could swear he felt the tightness deep in his belly lessen just the smallest bit.

“Mmmhh…” Micah tested how much room he had left by taking as deep a breath as he could. “You think I can eat any of the last one?”

“Hmmm…” Elijah rubbed over the brim of Micah’s tummy. “If your stomach doesn’t hurt, I don’t see the harm in trying.”

“Are you sure?” Sasha spoke up from the other side of the table, laughing a little. “He looks like a little seal that’s had too many fish on your lap like that!”

“Speak for -hlp- yourself!” Micah teased back with a grin, feeling his heart jump just a little at how cute his girlfriend looked, bare feet tucked up in her chair, lazily eating a flower made out of sliced grapes from a little glass that she’d rested on the top of her own swollen tummy. Her wings were spread just slightly to either side, as if to shield herself from view. A blueberry chai smoothie sat half-finished on the table in front of her.

“You got me there.” Sasha giggled, reaching for her smoothie to take a sip, before she settled back heavily in her chair again. “Oof— I’m really full too. Fruit isn’t as heavy as pancakes, though!”

“Well, Micah and I can be on the same team.” Macy said mischievously from Elijah’s other side, and Micah saw her take a bite from a rich-looking chocolate muffin just before her belly audibly grumbled plaintively. She subtly rubbed a few fingers just above her waist, then gestured at her plate. “I also still have a cinnamon bagel and blueberry cream cheese to go with it.”

Jordan was scrolling through their phone and not paying much attention to the conversation, but they were also still working on the last bit of their meal; two thick slices of toast, one made from banana bread and the other spread with a green herb butter and dotted with roasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds.

Cole was absorbed in a plate of french toast, with huckleberry syrup smeared on one cheek. He paused and moved to rub over his middle with one hand after a couple more bites, glancing up and grinning sheepishly. “This is my last thing, too. It’s pretty light actually, I’m sure I can -urrp- get it in.”

Micah sat up slowly, pressing one hand over Elijah’s over the top of his tummy. “Dunno how much I can fit, but I wanna taste it.”

“Alright.” Elijah kissed his cheek, moved Micah’s plate closer, and obligingly spread the thick banana walnut butter over the top, added the brown sugar crumble topping on top of that, then handed Micah his fork.

It was so delicious.

The banana was so smooth and creamy it almost tasted like melted ice cream, and the crushed walnuts gave just a little bit of texture to every mouthful, and the brown sugar melted on his tongue. He couldn’t stop after just one bite, so he shoved another one in, and then after that one he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to stop, so he ate another. His tummy groaned under his ribs but the feeling didn’t seem to matter much in comparison to the flavor on his tongue, so he squirmed forward on Elijah’s lap to press his swollen middle against the table’s edge, and cut another bite, chewing slowly both to savor it and maybe convince himself he had a little more room.

It wasn’t until he dropped his fork on his empty plate that the second half of the pancake seemed to catch up to him. He half expected to feel sick, but somehow he didn’t — he felt a little dizzy, but other than that he simply decided he was convinced that his tummy was holding one giant pancake, soaking up everything else he’d eaten and getting bigger and bigger as his insides shifted and rumbled and struggled to digest it.

Elijah was rubbing earnestly over his middle, saying soothing things into his ear, but seemed to understand instinctively somehow that Micah wasn’t in pain. So Micah sprawled out on his best friend’s lap and groaned breathlessly after every tight gurgle. He tried to hold still so Elijah could feel where he needed rubs the most but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop squirming restlessly, pawing at his own side with one hand even when it interrupted Elijah’s rubs.

“Ughhh…” Micah moaned the first moment he felt like he could breathe. “Ugghhh my tummy… it’s bigger than you.”

Elijah giggled under his breath. “Micah, your tummy is not bigger than me.”

“Is so. Urrp— Oooh… I don’t have room for this many pancakes…”

“It would appear you do, as you are, in fact, full of this many pancakes. Not that it was very many pancakes, however, Just more than one very rich kind of pancake. Do you feel alright?”

“It’s so fucking weird, but I actually do.” Micah hiccuped laboriously and felt Elijah ruffle his curls. “Sort of, I guess. I feel like I ate a thousand pancakes but it doesn’t hurt and I don’t even feel sick.”

“That’s good.” Elijah rubbed at a place low on Micah’s chest, just above where the sharp swell of his tummy was poking out, and the pressure coaxed up another burp. “Let me know if you need me to rub somewhere specific.”

“Goddesses… think this is the most stuffed I’ve ever been…”

“I’d second that, honestly.” Cole piped up from the other side of the table. He was also rounder than Micah had ever seen him, with his bright orange tail wrapped protectively around his tummy where he was stretched out as far as he could be in his seat. He was rubbing over and over his swollen front with one hand, fidgeting restlessly — clearly overstuffed. Jordan was curled sleepily against his side, their own hands clasped like a hammock under the curve of their stomach. The girls looked equally drowsy, nursing their own heavy tummies and relaxing in their seats contentedly.

After a long few minutes, Micah gathered the will to scoot out of his best friend’s lap and pat his knee. “Thanks so much, El. That helped a lot. You should enjoy the rest of your food. I’ll just take a little nap or something.”

“It’s always so funny to me how excited people get over ‘all you can eat’ buffet style meals.” Jordan chuckled across from them. “Like sure, it’s great to get whatever you want, but if you think about it, most people won’t eat much more than what comes in a standard restaurant serving anyway.”

“Honestly, I get what you’re saying.” Sasha paused to hiccup, covering her mouth. “It’s nice to have a reason to splurge on fancy food, though.”

“I agree.” Macy raised a hand.

“I can’t imagine going back for more than one buffet trip at a place like this.” Cole laughed. “I can eat just about as much as I can carry once, if that. Then I’m too round to get up for a second go.”

A ripple of emphatic agreement went around the table. There was the barest pause, then Micah opened his eyes just in time to see Elijah bashfully set his plate back down from where he’d raised it a few inches above the table, clearly halfway through preparing to get up for seconds. The reaction, to Micah’s satisfaction, was instantaneous.

“El, you should absolutely get more if you want more!” Sasha leaned across the table with a smile to squeeze his enormous hand.

“I meant me!” Cole was protesting, squirming around to try and catch Elijah’s gaze, his tail still wrapped around his rounded tummy, “I wasn’t expecting everyone to agree with me, I totally swear. It would suck if you didn’t get all you wanted, dude.”

“We shouldn’t have said that,” Jordan backtracked, clearly earnest about it. “I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”

“Elijah, you’re so big.” Macy squeezed his arm from his other side. “You’re easily twice the size of most of us. It makes complete sense that you could eat twice as much, and you should! It’s not an indulgent brunch if even one of us leaves with more room.” She giggled.

Elijah seemed so surprised by the outpouring of support from around the table that he was shrinking back, then, cheeks flaming, he halfway covered his face, something Micah had never seen him do around anyone but him before. Ignoring the way it made his tummy slosh uncomfortably, he snuggled as close as he could to his best friend to give him a kiss on the cheek. He felt Elijah calm down a little.

“You’re okay, big guy.” Sasha soothed, patting his hand some more. “You’ll be doing us all a favor — we can all sit and relax for a while and digest if you get another helping.”

“She’s right.” Micah agreed, rubbing up and down Elijah’s arm. “I definitely don’t want to move yet. But it’d be rude to stay if everyone’s done eating.”

There were some murmurs of agreement from around the table. Elijah fidgeted, then shyly rose to his feet. He began to wordlessly take his plate, until Jordan gave him a gentle tap on the back of the hand.

“At buffet restaurants on the surface, you get a new plate each time you go up for more food. Usually for sanitary reasons.”

“Oh.” Elijah set the dish down again, giving a little nod. “Thank you.” Then he meandered off into the stream of other diners — the table exchanged a triumphant look once he was far enough away.

While he was filling up a second time, the rest of them stacked empty plates together, ordered a few more drinks, and asked for takeout boxes to save what little food was left. Micah slid both his remaining pancake halves along with what was left of his hotcake into one box, and got a screwdriver for himself, as well as one for Elijah when he noticed his glass was empty. Conversation around the table turned to sleepy chatter about what upcoming summer plans were, and by the time Elijah returned with more food in hand, several of them were well on their way to dozing off.

“What’d you get?” Micah yawned and tried to sit up a little, holding the heavy swell of his tummy steady with one hand.

“Mm.” Elijah smiled a little. “Um, there was a self-serve waffle station, with a type of batter available made with potatoes.”

“Oooh, a savory waffle!” Sasha grinned. “Is that this one here? That fried chicken on top?”

“Mmhm.” Elijah turned his plate, showing off the golden-brown waffle topped with seasoned chicken strips and drizzled with maple syrup. Next to it sat a couple more of the breakfast wraps with eggs and bacon peeking through the end of the fluffy tortilla. There was another cup of melon and kiwi nestled in between those and a toasted sandwich, with tomato, fried egg, something Micah could swear looked like crab meat, and cheese melting over the top. He had another plate with another hotcake — which both surprised and pleased Micah, it seemed he’d done a good job of helping his friend re-acclimate to sugar — dotted with dark red fruit, and topped with more ricotta and what looked like peach jam and fresh peach slices.

“What kind of hotcake is that?”

“Cranberry. Inside, I mean.” Elijah motioned to the jam. “That’s peach.”

Micah smiled and snuggled close, subtly pressing his tummy close to Elijah’s side where his warmth would keep the heaviness comfortable. “Let me know if you want me to rub or anything.”

Elijah started with his sandwich, and once he’d taken a few bites, Micah was more confident that the reddish white slices of seafood were indeed crab meat. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, which was especially convincing, and Micah felt his heart melt knowing the behemoth had gotten some of his favorite food. The breakfast wraps were next, and even though each one was only a couple of bites for Elijah, he ate them slowly. Micah pressed a hand to his side, and realized his friend felt fuller than he might have guessed; he supposed he hadn’t paid attention to how loaded Elijah’s first couple of plates were.

The chicken and waffles went down slowly as well, but steadily and methodically, with every bite of syrup-covered waffle paired with a chunk of crispy chicken, shiny with grease and garnished with a little bit of powdered sugar. When Elijah pushed away one empty plate and pulled his fruit cup over, Micah felt his stomach grumble tightly after the first juicy bite went down.

“You doing okay?” Micah giggled and pressed his hand further over the swell beneath his best friend’s ribs. Elijah’s stomach felt heavy beneath his fingers and he squirmed a little. “You still have all of that hotcake left, you can put it in with my box if you want.”

Elijah shook his head a little and ate another little cube of watermelon. “I can finish —hrrp.”

That had been a rather strained hiccup. Micah laughed, as much as he could with his own tummy still so full, and tried to rub as best he could over Elijah’s sides. “If you say so.”

Once the fruit cup was empty, Elijah set it aside with his other dishes. He carved into the hotcake with his fork, and the bright red cranberries looked beautiful against the pale interior. The first forkful was a delicious-looking scoop of hotcake, ricotta, and peach jam, but as it went down, Micah saw Elijah take a shallow breath and heard a very faint groan.

A glance around the table told him that everyone else was either deliberately giving them some privacy or maybe just too sleepy to pay attention to them anyways. So Micah patted his friend’s arm so he could scoot in again and rub his hand firmly over his middle. Everything felt tight, Elijah’s stomach felt stretched. He groaned again, a little more deeply, and Micah could feel the sound trickle through his tummy along with another squeezing rumble.

“Your tummy needs to relax a little before you can eat more, El.” Micah coaxed in a whisper, feeling encouraged when Elijah lowered his fork and pressed into his hand some more. For a few minutes, he rubbed, pressing in with the heel of his hand, making circles over his friend’s sides and stroking back and forth over the grumbly swell beneath his ribs. Thankfully it didn’t take much before the muscles began to loosen, and Elijah was soon breathing a little easier, and his belly began to swell impressively under Micah’s hands. He’d have more room, at least.

Once Elijah had sat back up and returned to his hotcake, Micah curled up to the side, feeling immense sleepiness tugging at his eyelids. He might have actually dozed off because he couldn’t tell how much time passed, but a while later, he felt a heavy weight sink into the cushions right beside him. He pried one eye open and reached out a searching hand, then startled more fully awake. “Fuck, El, you feel… so full.”

Elijah only groaned in response, sounding a little stupefied. He’d stretched out a little, obviously too full to let anything press on his tummy, and maybe it was the sheer amount he’d eaten or possibly (likely) the fact he had a few drinks in him, but he was actually resting one hand soothingly over the very lowest sliver of his middle, where he might easily argue his hand was on his hip and not on his overstuffed stomach. Micah glanced at his friend’s plate and stifled an incredulous laugh. He didn’t think even Elijah would have been able to eat a whole pan-sized hotcake when he’d already been kinda stuffed.

“Oh, your tummy’s grumbling so much.” Micah giggled, feeling with the palm of one hand over the sounds he could hear. Elijah was, to put it bluntly, completely swollen from ribs to hipbones, and his breathing was coming in little shallow sips of air. He wasn’t tensed up like he was in pain, but he was clearly very, very dazed, and Micah couldn’t help but feel happy seeing him like this. He’d never been totally sure that Elijah could completely indulge himself out in public with their friends, but here he was having done just that.

Micah shook his head as he rubbed, pausing with his hand over the center of Elijah’s middle, certain, to his astonishment, that he could feel the exact place where the swell of his friend’s stomach ended and the rest of his insides began, a subtle difference between tightness and grumbling. He pressed a thumb into the spot and rubbed a deep circle, and Elijah gave such a groan of relief that he raised one hand to muffle the sound a little. Then he squirmed, and a very quiet belch slid out.

Thankfully, the restaurant was less busy than it had been when they’d gotten there, and no one seemed guilty about wordlessly staying a little while longer, to give their biggest friend time to digest. Jordan and Sasha each ordered one more drink each and sipped them slowly, and Macy stirred a little out of her own drowsy state, chuckled, and placed a comforting hand on Elijah’s side. The sound he made in response was so welcoming that she grinned and rubbed a little circle of her own right over his bellybutton.

Finally though, everyone began to gather their things, gave the waiter their ren chips and signed their receipts. Micah groggily climbed to his feet and turned to see Elijah gingerly sitting up, leaning to the side a little as if he just couldn’t sit completely straight.

“You’re pretty round, El.” Micah smiled and patted the crest of his best friend’s tummy. “You gonna be okay with getting home?”

Elijah groaned a little and tugged his shirt away from the curve of his belly, his fingers lingering just briefly on his side. “I don’t think I can -hic- hide it.”

“That’s okay.” Micah rubbed his shoulder until he rose to his feet, giggling at the little wince Elijah gave as gravity must have tugged on his overburdened stomach. “One nice thing about surface culture is that it’s rude to stare.”

“Mmm…” Elijah gave a little smile, then picked Micah’s box up and handed it to him. “Are we going back to the apartment?”

“Yeah. I don’t really wanna try to get all the way up the stairs to my dorm.” The group moved, and Micah and Elijah followed them towards the doors.

There were a few quick hugs on the sidewalk and a couple of jokes traded about how everyone was going to go home and nap, then Micah took Elijah by the hand and they headed for their bus stop. They’d only taken a few steps when a rolling grumble seemed to take Elijah by surprise.

“Mmgh…” He groaned softly, hiccuping when Micah patted him. Another gurgle squeezed through him under Micah’s hand. “Ohh…”

Micah was starting to worry about him a little, but before he could open his mouth and ask if Elijah’s tummy hurt, his best friend sighed and raised his other hand to the swollen expanse of his stomach, pressing gently over the tightest part of the curve. The grumbling quieted down and he seemed to relax a little, then he tugged on Micah’s hand and moved them both along the sidewalk.

More tummy rubs were clearly in order once they were both settled, Micah thought with a grin, then lifted a hand to cover a yawn. Hopefully he’d be able to stay awake long enough to give them.

#hhhhh this fic is fantastic as ever ❤️‍🔥#fics #stuffing #tummy rubs #tummy noises

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lessthanconventional · 24 days

Text

i will be real with you the entire time i was writing this i had absolutely no idea what id already written

[very mild stuffing, mostly just two old fruits eating dinner & cuddling & bein mushy]

Leon slipped his arms around Shel's narrow waist from behind while he cooked, propping his chin against his shoulder. Gently, he snuck his hands under Shel's shirt and rested them on his belly. Shel was a thin person; there was no denying that. Where there had once been hip bones sharply jutting out, though, Leon found only the soft swell of his lower belly. He held his hands there for a moment, taking in the warmth of that soft curve, then gave it a gentle squeeze. Shel smiled and craned his neck around to nuzzle his cheek against Leon's forehead.

Shel had been nothing short of scrawny for just about his entire life. It was only once he started spending time with Leon that he began to soften up a little; perhaps trying to get his dysfunctional sweetheart to eat better was rubbing off on him as well. The two spent many an evening enjoying a hearty home-cooked meal together, just as they were planning to do tonight.

Leon was reluctant to take his hands off of Shel's lovely little tummy, but the dirty cutting board was calling him. He leaned up to kiss him on the cheek before retreating to the sink. Shel remained at the stove, stirring the sizzling vegetables around in the pan. The kitchen smelled wonderful. They had salmon in the oven, drizzled with a glaze of dijon mustard and maple syrup, and cooking on the stove was a colorful medley of squash, asparagus, and broccoli. Leon's belly rumbled, and Shel smiled. He turned away from the stove--the vegetables needed a chance to brown anyhow--and pulled Leon into his arms, nuzzling his face deep into the crook of his neck.

"Shelly!" Leon jerked at the sudden tickling sensation, laughing. Shel hugged him tightly.

"I just like cookin' with you is all," Shel mumbled into his neck. "You're my perfect helper."

"Oh yeah? What are the qualifications?"

"Cute, for starters," said Shel, lifting his head to kiss Leon's cheek. "Sweet. Funny. Uh, warm." He slipped his hands under Leon's shirt to press them into his warm belly, and he gasped at the cold touch. There was little Shel adored more than Leon's plush, pillowy tummy, save for his cats and Leon himself. It was delightfully plump, poking out adorably over the top of his pajama pants, and the squishy little pooch under his belly button fit perfectly in Shel's bony hands. Leon didn't share quite the same appreciation for it, but if Shel loved it so much, he supposed it couldn't be bad.

At long last, dinner was ready, and the two decided to forgo the table and snuggle up together on the couch with their plates. It was a chilly, rainy evening outside, but Shel's cozy living room was warm, and the gentle patter of the rain against the windows was pleasant. Leon's belly rumbled again as they got themselves situated. Shel gave it an affectionate pat, unable to hold back an amused grin.

"Hey, you had lunch today, didn't you?"

"Huh? Um, I think so. Probably?" Leon ran through the long, busy work day in his mind. Shel rolled his eyes.

"Eat your fish, you goofball," he said, smiling fondly. Leon didn't need to be told twice. He gladly obliged, and Shel gladly joined him. Everything had come out perfect. The fish was flaky and flavorful, and the vegetables were tender but still just crisp enough. Leon's empty stomach welcomed the first delicious bites with open arms.

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to eat this whole thing," remarked Shel, and Leon chuckled.

"Have you ever eaten a whole anything?"

"I ate a whole pea once," said Shel. "Skin and all." Leon laughed out loud, covering his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from dribbling half-chewed squash all over the place, and Shel grinned down at him.

As it turned out, Shel was right. He had the stomach capacity of a stray chihuahua, and, despite a valiant effort, the big hunk of fish proved to be just a bit too much. He set the plate on the coffee table, covering it with a napkin to keep the cats out of his leftovers, and settled himself against Leon's lap, resting his hands on his full tummy.

"Full already?"

"Stuffed." Even not having cleaned his plate, Shel had pushed himself just a smidge too far, his stomach teetering just on the edge of discomfort. His tummy poked out ever so slightly under his soft pajama shirt, and Leon gave it a gentle pat.

"Boy, I'll say," he said, surprised at how firm his belly felt. He supposed it couldn't have felt too bad, though; that pinched pout of discomfort he was all too familiar with was nowhere to be seen on Shel's pretty face, only a content, sleepy little smile. Leon gazed down at him a moment, utterly gripped by his beauty--his delicate features, the crinkles of the smile in his eyes, the sea of silver waves that was his hair.

"Leon, eat your dinner," said Shel, both amused and touched by the look of adoration on Leon's face. It wasn't a look he'd ever imagined anybody might direct toward him, but it was one he was almost growing used to now--used to, but certainly not tired of.

"You're very distracting, you know," said Leon, tenderly brushing one of Shel's remaining mousy brown hairs out of his face before picking up his fork again. Shel smiled innocently at him, batting his eyelashes sweetly. Leon rolled his eyes and took another bite of salmon. He was beginning to feel full himself, although not quite full enough to slow down; each bite was still just as irresistible as the last. He didn't start slowing down until he was nearly finished, his belly growing snug against his shirt.

While he only had a few bites left on his plate, Leon's stomach had finally begun to catch up with him, and those last few bites were beginning to seem like a lot. He paused for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His belly gurgled softly as its contents settled, and he brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a quiet burp. Shel gazed up at him adoringly from his lap, appreciating the mundane sweetness of his movements and the way the glow of the light filtering through his thick, dark hair from above made him look like an angel. It wasn't an angle he often saw Leon from, being taller than him. Leon glanced down suddenly, finally noticing Shel's stare.

"Hey, good-lookin'," said Shel with a suave smile, and then he broke into laughter at the cheesy line. Somebody at work had once said that Shel's laugh sounded like an old man being smothered to death, but as far as Leon was concerned, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He grinned down at him and ruffled his hair.

"Hey! I just brushed that," Shel exclaimed, grabbing at Leon's hand.

"You're gonna make me drop broccoli all over your head!"

"I'll just pick it off and feed it to you," teased Shel, reaching up and plucking a piece of broccoli from Leon's plate. "Finish your dinner already so we can get to foolin' around." Leon laughed, and Shel fed him the broccoli, then licked off his fingers.

Slowly but surely, Leon finished off the last few bites of his dinner, his belly feeling snug and tight as he pushed it just over the edge of stuffed. It had rounded out nicely against his shirt, not alarmingly distended but undeniably and visibly full. He set his plate down beside Shel's on the table and leaned back with a sigh. Another little burp bubbled up and escaped, and he rested a hand atop his belly.

"Man, that was a big hunk of fish," he said, rubbing at the taut bulge of his stomach.

"Wasn't it? And you were makin' fun of me," teased Shel.

"I still ate the whole thing, though," said Leon.

"I guess so," agreed Shel. He lifted Leon's shirt up just enough to expose his belly button, then leaned his head in to plant a kiss on his tummy. Leon blushed brightly. With an adoring look in his eyes, Shel sat his hands on Leon's sides, idly rubbing the soft skin of his belly with one thumb. Slowly and deliberately, he placed another kiss, letting his lips linger against the warm surface for an extra moment. Then, he snuggled up against Leon, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist and resting his cheek against his tummy.

He remained there while Leon gently stroked his hair, listening to the soft gurgles of his belly as it worked away at the big dinner. As big as it had been, neither of them felt uncomfortably full, although it wouldn't have taken much more to get them there. Leon rested his other hand on Shel's tummy, enamored with the way it bulged just barely noticeably under his shirt. This was all that "foolin' around" would consist of tonight; they both were full and sleepy and perfectly content to simply stay there and hold each other.

#fuck they're so cuuuuute #fics #stuffing

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