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Bottoms Up

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There was a rustle of shopping bags as John entered 221B. The ex-army doctor strolled past where his flatmate turned lover lay sprawled over the sofa. John smiled as he noted that for once, Sherlock was asleep. The consulting detective's mouth was open and he was snoring just a little, a crumb filled plate beside him signifying the new change in opinion on food the lanky man had developed recently. His position also highlighted the tiniest pinch of softness that was clinging to the area around Sherlock's navel, creating the softest of roundings under a still quite apparent ribcage. Though that seemed to be slipping under new flesh quite nicely as well.

John drew nearer and set his shopping bags down, then he slipped a hand onto that lovely pale middle, his fingers pressing lightly, exploring this new little addition to his lover.

Sherlock huffed and wriggled slightly, turning away from John's curious fingers.

"Hmmph... Hands are cold," he mumbled.

"Sorry, love," John replied with a chuckle. Sherlock was warm, seeming only to grow warmer as he gained a bit of weight. He looked beautiful. The picture of health. But still, as they had discussed, he could always do with a little more.

John slipped his finger into the man's navel, tugging lightly at the sides. Sherlock released a soft gasp, his back arching as he turned lazy warm eyes onto John.

"What did you bring me?" He purred, his tone low and rich.

John smiled and pulled out a large two-liter bottle of soda from the bag along with a pint of the fancy French vanilla bean ice cream Sherlock liked and some crispy wafers.

"Just a little snack," said John, pulling the lid off of the ice cream and using one of the wafers to scoop some of it up. It was perfectly soft and creamy. Sherlock's eyes lit up, then he smirked and pushed himself up to accept the treat. He clearly had guessed John's plan. Well, ice cream and soda. It was a fairly simple deduction.

The detective practically purred as he sucked the ice cream from the wafer, licking a few sweet tendrils from it before biting into the wafer with a crunch. John quickly prepared another, which Sherlock ate just as eagerly, one hand already drifting to his middle, rubbing slow tantalizing circles over it, motions he knew would drive John wild.

The doctor was already breathing a bit funny, those long fingers caressing the burgeoning softness only made it harder to resist. Finally, when the ice cream was gone and Sherlock's lips were sticky and sweet, and the man's eyes had become rather impressively sultry, John gave in, crushing his mouth to his lover's. He tasted powerfully of vanilla and his mouth was slightly chilled from his treat. John found that even better, his hand now free to examine Sherlock's belly, probing at the subtle rounding that told of a contented stomach. But they weren't going for contented just now.

John sat back to catch his breath, watching as Sherlock rucked up his shirt further and rubbed at his belly a bit more.

"Feeling good?" John asked, grinning.

"Mmm... Could be even better though," the detective replied, giving his stomach a sharp pat.

"Course, here. Drink up," John instructed, passing the soda bottle over.

Sherlock opened it with a snap and lifted it to his mouth with both hands. Then he began to drink... And drink.

John watched as Sherlock drank the soda down, his eyes tracking the bob of that pale throat working, the detective's eyes fluttering closed, the way his abdomen contracted minutely, only to swell bigger and bigger.

At last, Sherlock had to breathe again, he gasped as he lowered the bottle, several burps bubbling up his throat to escape. His belly rounded out further, gurgling as the soda made contact with the ice cream, fizzing up and making Sherlock feel well and heavily bloated. He burped again, panting slightly, as he slumped back against the sofa, his hand rubbing at his belly.

"Well done," said John, moving closer and rubbing at Sherlock's distended tummy carefully, probing it with his fingers and finding it delightfully springy. "More."

Sherlock's eyes went wide as he muffled another belch. He willingly accepted the still mostly full bottle however and raised it to his lips, throwing his head back and chugging down even more. John rubbed the man's belly as he drank, imagining that he could feel the skin stretching under his fingers. The bulge was growing rather hard now, Sherlock's belly swelling out beautifully, growing round and heavy. John slid his finger into the navel again, finding the walls stretched and much more shallow now that Sherlock was being filled.

"Just a bit more left," said John, reaching up to help Sherlock with the bottle as the man took a breather again. The detective immediately let out a monstrous wet belch, clutching his stomach and groaning. John gave the detective's belly a pat and then pushed the bottle to Sherlock's lips again.

"Go on. You can do it. I know you can," he murmured. Sherlock gave an odd hiccup that sounded more like a burp, his belly sloshing slightly, then he nodded, and accepted it, throwing his head back to gulp down the last of it.

John watched as Sherlock emptied he bottle, gulp by gulp, his belly rounding out further and rounder each time, the skin around his navel growing a bit splotchy.

Then every last drop was inside him, and Sherlock collapsed back with a moan that was quickly replaced by a litany of burps. He couldn't seem to stop, his cheeks flushing pink, one hand on his bloated middle.

"Oh-John I-hurp-ooh!" Sherlock groaned, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, his eyes closed.

John chuckled kindly and moved over to rub gently at his lover's hugely distended form. The curve of pale belly was now jutting up proudly under the man's ribs, the mass jostling slightly as Sherlock hiccuped or burped, the whole lot sloshing around.

"You okay?" John asked, still rubbing and pressing gently at Sherlock's middle. The detective nodded and removed his hand to speak but all that came out was yet another loud burp. Sherlock flushed. John only laughed and rubbed more purposefully.

"Go on, you can let them out," he encouraged.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but removed his hand, burping softly, oftentimes groaning, feeling marvelously fat and full.

"I don't know-hurp- why I let-urp- you do-hmmph-this to me," he murmured as his stomach sloshed and gurgled between his doctor's gentle hands.

"Don't you?" Teased John, grinning and lowering himself to kiss and mouth at Sherlock's round bloated middle.

the detective arched his back, keening softly, then burping once more. He smiled lazily down at John.

"Alright. I do," he admitted, surrendering himself to soft sighs and gasps and moans as John fully worshiped his over sensitive middle. It was difficult to determine which of them was getting the bigger treat tonight.