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Under Pressure

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Brendon was insecure growing up. He always was. His brothers were always super fit growing up from playing football and such, and Brendon was just... average. The only thing he liked about himself was his ass and thighs. They were... generous, to say the least, and they made him feel sexy and desirable. Ryan always made him feel desirable, though.

Ryan was his friend. His best friend, actually, until a few months back when they hooked up while high on some sort of drug—Brendon didn’t know what it was, they were at a party. So now Ryan’s official title is “Best Friend with Benefits”.

They did everything together, basically. They even lived with each other for a stretch. However, their careers slowly chipped away at the time they could spend together. Brendon was proudly a musician, and Ryan an investigative reporter that had been recently promoted.

Brendon was excited, though. He was getting off tour and could finally spend time with Ryan, whose schedule forbade him from coming to a show. It had been, like, six months since the last time he’s seen Ryan!

And then he got a call.

“Hey, B. How’ve you been?” The sound of Ryan’s voice through the phone made Brendon so excited, as pathetic as it seemed.

Brendon talked about tour and how crazy it was, and then Ryan dropped the bomb on him.

“They’re sending me to France. Y’know, ‘cause of the protests? Uh, I’m supposed to be there for four or five months. Possibly six.”

He was absolutely devastated, to say the least.

Saying his goodbyes, he hung up the phone. Ryan didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye in PERSON! Instead of overthinking it, he went on Twitter.

He scrolled through his feed as he rolled a joint, eyes mindlessly scanning the posts. Twitter was stupid, he had decided that a long, long time ago. He didn’t take it seriously, thank God, and—

wait, what did that tweet say?

Brendon knew that Twitter was stupid, yea, but he couldn’t help but read the tweet over and over again, heart sinking in his chest a bit more each time he read it.

“Brendon Urie is built like a fucking twig lol. His ass is so fucking flat, Jesus Christ.”

His ass was the only thing he was confident about!

He turned his phone off and put it in a drawer so he wouldn’t be tempted to read any more tweets, and he lit his freshly rolled joint.

He knew it was ridiculous and that Twitter was stupid, but fuck did it hurt. His mind was racing as he took a long drag, eyes fluttering shut. He hadn’t been eating a lot during tour. Yea, maybe that’s it. He’s just malnourished. Ryan was always telling him to eat more.

Literally, always.

Before Brendon left for tour Ryan ordered an almost impossible amount of food and begged Brendon to finish it so he didn’t have to bring home leftovers.

And then there was the time that Ryan claimed that Brendon was purposely under-eating. He stayed at Brendon’s house, basically forcing food on him, regardless of whether Brendon was hungry or not.

Thinking back on it, it was kind of a nice memory. Being taken care of, not having to worry.

Being so sated, too. It was comforting, being full.

He ordered pizza, telling himself that this was going to be the only time he was going to let himself emotionally eat.

When the doorbell rang, Brendon felt absolutely ravenous. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the time he spent thinking about eating, he couldn’t be sure. He paid with a fifty, not waiting for the delivery boy to get his change. He was fucking starving.

He grabbed a plate from the kitchen, as well as two beers, before ending up on the couch with the box of pizza on the coffee table. He turned the TV on, switching the channel until he found something uninteresting enough to mindlessly watch as he ate.

Speaking of being mindless and eating, he was already doing it. He had downed half a slice before he started to officially eat.

Huh.

He didn’t think about it too much as he was already distracted by the mind-numbing sitcom he put on.

It felt like only a few minutes had passed when Brendon reached for another slice only to be met with cardboard. It was startling, looking down to see the empty cardboard box. There’s no way he ate all of that so fast! He barely even felt full. He wasn’t even done smoking, for fuck’s sake. He reached for his beer, only to find that both cans were empty.

“Jesus…” He groaned, huffing as he went to stand up. He found it hard, having two cans of beer and an entire large pizza packed in his stomach. When he looked down, the sight of his rounded out stomach startled him so much that a hiccup jolted through him. Whatever, he was probably just bloated from the beer. He pressed a hand against his firm, taut stomach as he slowly walked into the kitchen, grimacing with each step because his stomach felt so heavy.

He opened the fridge, groaning when he had to bend down a bit to grab another beer. He was thirsty! The pizza was salty, he couldn’t help it! Besides, what else is he going to drink? Water? No, not when he’s already buzzed and still parched.

Every movement felt like agony as he made his way to the bedroom, nursing the beer as he held his belly, huffing with each step, so full that his stomach pressed against his lungs to try to make room for all the food, and now each sip of beer. It felt nice going down his throat, but he could feel his stomach expanding each time. There was something euphoric about it.

He slowly undid the button to his pants, basically moaning at the release, the hem no longer digging into his stomach. It took him a few minutes to get them off, not wanting to move too fast in fear of upsetting his stomach. He didn’t even bother looking for pajama pants, knowing that they would constrict his stomach far too much for him to be comfortable.

When he finally eased back against the mattress, he found it hard to get comfortable. He ended up laying on his side, awkwardly finishing his beer before rolling onto his back, eyelids drooping as he rubbed his stomach, wincing as he tried to get rid of the slight discomfort.

This wasn’t going to happen again.

Chapter Text

Brendon allowed himself a week of junk food. What was it going to hurt? He’s young and healthy, and he’ll be going straight back to his diet afterwards. He figured that if he let himself indulge now then he wouldn’t want to later.

To him, the logic was flawless.

He was on day five of his binge when things got out of hand.

The pizza place he was ordering from offered to give him another small pizza on the house, due to his apparent loyalty. Brendon was excited, of course, because who doesn’t love free food? He already knew that he could finish an entire pizza, so why not get another one? Besides, it’d be like he was LOSING money if he didn’t take the pizza. He was a bit buzzed when he placed the order, anyway.

Brendon was insanely bored without Ryan. They talked throughout the day, yea, but besides that all Brendon really did was drink, smoke, and play piano.

Smoking weed didn’t exactly help with this, either. It seemed to make him hungrier, which made him order more food than he thought he could eat in one sitting.

He always did, even though he swore he’d stop after he felt full. The food was just so good and he had a hard time doing any real “mindful eating”.

By the time the guy came by with his two pizzas, Brendon was convinced that his stomach was starting to try to consume himself. He paid the delivery guy—Mike, his name was Mike—and didn’t even wait to sit down before he dug in. He set the smaller pizza in the kitchen, knowing that he wouldn’t be getting to it that night. He already had a beer ready for him on the coffee table, his favorite show already playing on the TV. He was ready.

He had found himself in a pretty good schedule. In the morning he ate either a few bowls of cereal or a plate of toaster waffles. Breakfast was big enough that he didn’t need to eat lunch. He still had to snack, though. By the time dinner rolled around, he was hungry enough to eat a fairly large meal. Which he did, every night so far.

He hated to admit it, but he also really liked eating.

He knew that he shouldn’t and that it was probably not good for him, but he liked the feeling of being full. And sometimes overfull. It was comforting, feeling sated. It also made it easier for him to sleep. The other night he passed out on the couch after his big dinner, he didn’t even have time to make it to bed. He didn’t want to move, either.

He had never been the most active to begin with, so it wasn’t like it was hurting him or anything. He kept his lean physique by eating right and jogging occasionally.

He wasn’t going to tour any time soon and it’s not like Ryan was going to be around for a few months, so he figured he could be a little lax.

It soothed him, eating. It was therapeutic. Especially when you added the narcotics and liquor on top of it.

Brendon was a about three fourths done with the pizza when he started to feel a little full. He figured that a few more slices wouldn’t hurt. By the time he was finished with the last slice, something weird happened.

He wasn’t hard, was he?

It must’ve been the pressure. Or, hell, he was thinking about Ryan. Thinking about Ryan always got him excited, usually.

So yea, that’s obviously the reason he had a semi. He stuffed the rest of slice into his mouth, reaching for his phone. It was a struggle, because it was so far away on the coffee table and he was so full, but he needed it.

Getting off was one thing, but getting off with Ryan was a whole other experience. They hadn’t done it in a while, so what better time than now? He soothing rubbed his stomach as he dialed Ryan, impatiently waiting for him to answer. It took almost too long, but soon enough he heard a groggy voice on the other end of the line.

“B? It’s five in the morning.” He mumbled, chuckling under his breath.

“I know, I’m sorry. I jus’, um, I need to talk to you.” His voice was breathy, not only from the arousal but because it hurt if he took too deep of a breath. Ryan may have just woken up, but he caught on.

“You’re not even gonna say ‘hi’ to me first, baby? I see how it is.” He teased and Brendon couldn’t HEAR him smirking. “What do you need, baby?”

Ryan calling him baby was enough to get him going. Brendon stuck a hand down his pants, blinking when his forearm pressed against his stomach a little too much for his liking. Whatever, he was bloated. “You know what I need, asshole.”

“Alright, alright. You’re so cute when you get worked up. You get all snappy.” Ryan teased, knowing that it would probably help Brendon along. “What even got you so worked up, anyway? I mean, I know you’re a horny little shit, but you sound pretty desperate over there.”

Brendon felt his face go hot. He couldn’t tell Ryan that he was stuffing his face and happened to get a boner. “Thinking of you.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Ryan,” he huffed, letting out a little whine.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, I just can’t help but to tease you. It’s probably been too long, I know that you have a hard time without me. I think it’s kind of sweet that you’ve become more or less dependent. I still know you can touch yourself, but it just isn’t as satisfying, right?” Ryan waited for Brendon to answer. He said nothing, only making a little noise of acknowledgement. “Baby, I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Y-Yea, I need you, fuck—“ Brendon’s hips jerked a little too much, jostling the food in his stomach. He let out a whiny, pained noise.

“B? Baby, are you alright?” Ryan asked, panic obvious in his still sleepy voice.

“‘M fine, I’m fine, just keep going.” He hissed, actively trying to stay as still as possible as he stroked himself.

“Okay, um, yea. That’s good. You need me. You’re pretty much my bitch, huh?” Ryan snorted, which was decidedly unsexy. Brendon ignored it. “I could make you do whatever the fuck I want. Maybe when I get back we can have a little bit of fun, huh?”

“We always have fun,” Brendon said, confused.

“No, I mean, more fun than usual. Remember when I was talking about maybe trying some new things? Well, I have a few ideas. I was thinking that maybe we could try out those handcuffs, huh? It’d be fun, fucking you when you’re helpless.”

Brendon wheezed when his hips jolted forward again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fuck, I’m fine, jus’ fucking keep going.” Brendon snapped, which caused Ryan to chuckle.

“Baby, don’t get mouthy with me. Remember the last time you did that? I do. Fuck, you were so loud, begging for me to stop. Every time I stopped you’d cry that you wanted more. Eventually I just shoved you face down and fucked a couple of orgasms out of you. Remember that?”

Brendon knew he was getting close, and that wasn’t a comfortable feeling considering the way his abdominal muscles were starting to become tense.

“You looked so pretty, Brendon. Fuck, I ruined you and you still looked gorgeous, all blissed out. It’s like you were meant to take me, huh? Meant to take my co—“ Ryan was cut off by a half-moan half-yelp. Brendon was coming. Hard. Ryan didn’t know that, though, because he sounded different, like he was in pain.

“B? Brendon, baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? You don’t sound okay,” Ryan’s concern made Brendon feel guilty. He should tell the truth.

“Yea, um, I ate too much and I guess eating too much and jerking off isn’t a good mix. I’m really fucking tired.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Ryan?”

“Yea, yea, um, yea, I’m glad you’re okay. Uh, you should probably eat some more. Y’know, since you just expelled some of those calories.” Ryan’s voice sounded breathy.

“Maybe, I am kind of hungry I guess.” Brendon admitted shamefully. He could hear a faint noise coming from Ryan’s end.

“Yea, go eat and rest. Um, I’ll call you tonight. Or, uh, it’ll be morning for you. Yea.” Ryan sounded weird. Fuck, Brendon shouldn’t have admitted he ate too much AND that he was still hungry. Ryan probably thought it was gross.

“Okay, yea. Bye, I’ll talk to you then.” He said in the cheeriest voice he could muster, ending the call after Ryan said his farewells.

He felt like shit now.

He didn’t bother cleaning up, groaning as he got to his feet, clutching his stomach. He waddled down the hall, abruptly stopping when he passed the kitchen.

Guiltily, he grabbed the second pizza, only then continuing his long walk of shame to the bedroom.

He was already wearing sweats, so he didn’t have to change out of them. He did notice that that waistline had lowered to accommodate to his rounded belly. His shirt also rode up a tad. But it was fine, it was a size too small on him anyway. He was pretty sure, at least. He eased back onto the bed, turning on the television before setting the pizza box beside him, staring at it.

He already knew he was going to eat, but he still tried to will himself out of it.

By the time he was halfway through the pizza, he could basically feel every bite he took going into his stomach. It started to hurt, but the pressure was oddly comforting.

By the last slice he was basically forcing himself to eat. He felt that he deserved it. He felt gross, mostly. He knew that Ryan would think so. Maybe if he got it all out of his system now it’d be over. Yea. This was the last night, and he was going out with a bang.

When he swallowed the last piece he moaned in relief, placing a hand on his stomach, which had gotten noticeably more swollen. What was he expecting? He just pigged out, its what he gets. He writhed a little as he rubbed circles into it, feeling absolutely helpless. He was just starting to relax when he got a text from Ryan.

“What all did you eat?”

Brendon didn’t want to respond, but he knew that Ryan would get pissy if he didn’t.

“A few slices of pizza and a salad. A bit too much for me I guess lol.”

He turned his phone off, not wanting to see Ryans response. He tossed the empty cardboard box onto the floor, huffing as he got under the covers.

This was going to stop.

Chapter Text

Ryan’s heart was pounding in his chest. If he wasn’t breathing so hard he could probably hear his ribs rattling.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ryan was fucked up and he knew it. As soon as he heard the words leave Brendon’s mouth he was rock hard. He quietly palmed himself while they said their goodbyes and yanked his pajama pants down as soon as he got off the phone.

Brendon eating. Brendon OVER eating. Brendon being full.

Brendon was full and he agreed to keep eating.

He felt like a fucking pervert for having the fantasies he has. He couldn’t help it! He’s always been into... bigger people. It wasn’t like he NEEDED his partner to be bigger, but it was a preference.

Brendon obviously was the opposite of that, and he loved Brendon’s body. His curves, his ass, his legs—perfect.

But he would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want Brendon bigger. He always thought that his boy was too slight. Too skinny. Fuck, he was basically all skin and bone! Sure, Ryan was definitely a hypocrite for thinking that, but still!

He wanted Brendon to look healthier, which was Ryan’s justification for wanting Brendon to gain weight. At LEAST another thirty pounds—he could only fathom how his ass would look with 30 more pounds on him. Fuck, Ryan wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of him if he gained even more.

Fuck, he’d be so soft. He’d look so fucking sexy. He knew that Brendon would be more pear shaped. Even if Brendon wasn’t pear shaped he KNEW he would be so fucking hot.

He wanted to see what Brendon looked like, how beautiful he’d look with a rounded belly, packed with food.

He could imagine him sprawled out on the couch, slipping in and out of a food coma. He couldn’t help but imagine him a bit pudgier, too. Brendon always wore his shirts small, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Brendon’s shirt would’ve rode up from the gained weight and the sheer amount of food consumed.

Ryan chose to exaggerate the amount consumed, he figured that his boy couldn’t ACTUALLY consume four large pizzas, but it was a fantasy so it didn’t have to be entirely realistic.

He could fucking see it, Brendon moaning softly as he tried to soothe his stomach, empty pizza boxes scattered around his house. His shirt was entirely rolled up, the skin of his exposed belly red and taut. There was a little give to it, considering he certainly was chubbier than normal, but besides that it was rock hard.

He exhales a little too quick and the button of his jeans popped off, the zipper going down on it’s own.

Ryan was alternating between his hand and humping the mattress.

After his jeans came loose, he had a bit more room, and he reached for another slice, whining when he had to try to sit up slightly.

Finally, he pulled the cardboard box that still contained food closer. Three slices.

Brendon could barely finish three slices before Ryan left for Paris. RYAN couldn’t, either.

Ryan’s hips stuttered as Brendon lifted the first to his lips, whimpering with each bite.

The bed was squeaking under him due to the intensity of his movements, but he didn’t care.

There was some hesitation when Brendon went to eat the second slice, but he did it. Ryan was fucking shaking.

The third was the hardest, he had to wait a few minutes in between bites because it was too fucking much. If it didn’t hurt for him to move, he’d be writhing due to the discomfort.

With a theatrical sigh, Brendon finished the slice. Five large pizzas, and he looked nine months pregnant. To wash the three slices down he grabbed a half-empty can of soda, and Ryan came.

He saw white, and he was sure his heart had stopped for a few seconds. Minutes felt like hours as he came down from his high, and Ryan could see the sun coming up, painting the sky a dark purple and faint blue.

He knew Brendon was asleep, but he wanted to call him.

They never agreed to being boyfriends, but Ryan considered Brendon his.

He wanted his boyfriend to gain weight and for the first time in in a while, he didn’t feel guilty about it.

 

Brendon was right. In a sense, anyway. He was done with living on pizza. After that night, he threw up if he smelled anything like it.

However, it wasn’t long before he cleaned out the fridge. Two weeks, exactly. He was too used to eating food in such large amounts, he didn’t know how to ease back. Besides, eating helped him relax.

He hadn’t left the house ever since he started his new... unusual habit. He found himself sleeping in a little later, ordering breakfast as soon as he woke up. He used to make it himself, but he ran out of ingredients within a few days. He didn’t want to go out of the house because it was summer and he was hot and he hadn’t had a haircut in a while, so he resorted to ordering in for every meal.

He could afford it, of course. It was just a little embarrassing when the same UberEats driver delivers to your house twice in one day.

He had breakfast delivered no later than eleven in the morning, and usually ate through the hour while making phone calls and working on his laptop. After that, he went back to bed for a nap. He usually woke up around four by his phone, it was always Ryan calling. The past few days he was sleeping through the phone calls more and more. As soon as he got up he got lunch, which had been delivered with breakfast. He didn’t like waiting, he was hungry after naps. Lunch was mostly a snack, something to hold him over until dinner.

Now, dinner was a real affair.

He treated every night like a special night. He got an appetizer, a full entree and dessert.

Yea, he was spoiled.

He always told himself that it was going to end, but it never really did. After a month and a half of eating the way he did, he finally noticed the changes.

He didn’t have a scale in his bathroom, and he didn’t inspect himself in the mirror that often. One day, though, he passed by it and noticed things that DEFINITELY weren’t there. For one, his underwear were basically cutting into his hips, making it look like he was starting to get a muffin top. All definition in his chest and abdomen was gone, replaced by a layer of fat. He stared at himself for a while, noting the changes.

His jaw was a little softer, and his body wasn’t nearly as angular as it was before. His stomach stuck out a little more than usual, and he had just gotten up.

It made his heart beat a little faster. He didn’t dislike it, though. It was new and he wasn’t sure if he liked it, either.

Whatever, he can work it off.

Biting his lip, he looked down at his thighs. They were always rather big, but they still were firm and muscular. Now, the insides felt soft and pliable, and there was a noticeable layer covering the still-muscular outsides.

He felt a pang of hunger in his stomach and he tore his eyes away from the mirror, not giving it a second thought. Ryan was going to be gone for another four months, he had to cope somehow.

He was on a call with Zack when he was ordering breakfast and lunch, not quite paying attention as he picked out what he was going to be eating. So, when the food got delivered, he was in for a surprise.

The breakfast amount was normal, but he usually didn’t overdo it for lunch.

He accidentally ordered a whole family meal of fried chicken, apparently. His stomach growled louder when he thought about how good it would taste.

Fuck.

He found himself wolfing down breakfast, greedily eyeing the box of chicken while he shoved eggs and bacon into his mouth. He felt fairly stuffed by the time he was done, and he decided to go shower to prepare for his second meal, shedding his clothes. He turned to the mirror, looking at his side profile. He looked—fuck, and FELT—thirty pounds heavier than he was two months ago.

He wasn’t even at his limit and he looked like he was with child.

He was just bloated, that’s all. That’s what he told himself as he stepped in the shower, letting the hot water hit his skin.

When he got out of the shower he was practically starving, ignoring his buzzing phone as he toweled himself off, pulling on a pair of too tight briefs that cut into his hips a little too much to be comfortable, followed by an old pair of sweatpants. He hadn’t done laundry in a while and he was running out of comfy T-Shirts, so he grabbed a hoodie.

 

Ryan was fucking ecstatic. Work was letting him go home early and he booked the first flight out of Paris. He wasn’t expecting it, as he was supposed to be stuck there for a few more months, but he wasn’t complaining.

He was so excited to get back to Brendon, mostly.

He had already decided that he was going to ask Brendon to move in with him. The time apart really put things into perspective for him, and he realized how much he really cared for him. It was more than just sexual attraction. He had the whole flight to think about it, scribbling in his note book what he thought would be best to say.

He didn’t call Brendon because he wanted into surprise him. He knew how much Brendon missed him, he missed him more. When Ryan landed, he was well rested from his long nap on the plane. He was practically buzzing with excitement, checking his phone for any messages from Brendon.

None.

It was last lunch and he knew that Brendon would be awake before then. Whatever. He was probably busy with work stuff. That or he was out for a jog.

His car was back home so he had to take a cab, awkwardly making conversation with the driver while he drove home. He needed to get his mail. Plus, he wanted to grab something for Brendon.

He felt too weird asking the driver to pull through a fast food joint so he could get two milkshakes. Plus, he feared that they’d melt before he got to his boy’s house. He called him, wanting to ask what flavor he wanted. There was no answer.

Ryan ended up ordering a large, double thick chocolate shake for him. It was a safe bet. He was so fucking excited. God, Brendon’s gonna lose his shit.

Over him being home, of course. He’ll also be rather excited about the shake, they were his favorite.

He parked on the street, not wanting Brendon to hear his car in the driveway. He thankfully had a key, too. He knew Brendon was home, he could hear the TV when he stepped up to the door.

Slowly, he turned the key, opening the door.

“Brendon?”

Chapter Text

Brendon was laid out on the couch, taking slow, deep breaths when Ryan came in.

“Brendon?” He called out for him, setting his bags on the floor. It seemed like Brendon didn’t hear him at first, so he said his name again.

When Brendon finally looked over, his eyes were wide and his face was red. Being away for four months was totally worth it, Ryan thought.

“Hi, baby.” He purred, sauntering over to a dazed-looking Brendon. “Speechless, huh? S’okay. I guess this is a pretty big surprise.” He teased, approaching the couch that his unofficial boyfriend was strewn across.

Brendon was speechless, of course. He was so surprised and shocked.

And mortified.

He was stuffed to the fucking gills, and then some. He didn’t want Ryan to see him like this. He was supposed to be away for another two months. He didn’t want the love of his life to know he’d been eating family-sized meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“H-Hi baby...” He managed to say, wincing as he slowly sat up.

“Something wrong? You haven’t even gotten up to hug me.” Ryan teased, before frowning when he saw the way that he was rubbing his stomach from underneath his sweatshirt. “Are you sick?” He asked softly, sitting down next to him, looking concerned.

Panicking, Brendon turned away, slowly standing up. Fuck, it hurt. Nothing compared to anything before, because he hadn’t eaten this much before. Of course, Ryan had to come the day that he shoved a seemingly endless amount of food down his throat.

“Hey, B, stop it,” Ryan said softly, taking Brendon’s hand so he could ease him back onto the couch. Only then did he notice the evidence of his binging. For one, he saw the slight bump from under the sweatshirt, specifically the way he was cradling it. Then he saw the leftover food containers on the coffee table and in the kitchen. He felt his cock twitch in his pants.

“You’re full.” Ryan exhaled, looking smug. He could see the way that Brendon tensed up, and he chuckled.

“‘M not.”

Ryan rose an eyebrow, scooting closer to Brendon. He knew, just from their sides brushing. Brendon was so muscular and skinny, so it was easy for Ryan to tell.

“You’re not full?” Ryan knew the answer, but teasing Brendon had always been a beloved hobby of his.

“I’m not,” Brendon confirmed, which only made Ryan smirk. He pressed a kiss into Brendon’s cheek before standing up, walking back towards the door. “Where... Ry, where are you going?”

Ryan laughed, hearing the slight whine in the boy’s voice. “Nowhere, I’m just grabbing something.” He chuckled, grabbing the milkshake that he had abandoned upon entering Brendon’s apartment. It was a little melted, but Ryan knew he wouldn’t mind.

“Here, I brought you this. I know their shakes are your favorite.” Ryan said with a smile, offering it to him.

Brendon froze.

“Brendon? Baby, c’mon, you said you weren’t full.”

Fuck, it was like Ryan was TAUNTING him. With a shaky hand, he took the drink. Ryan could see the nervousness on his face, and it made him laugh more.

“C’mon, it’s just a shake. Let’s watch a movie. I’ve missed being with you.” Ryan offered, and once again, Brendon couldn’t say no.

Ryan didn’t watch the movie much, he was too preoccupied with watching Brendon struggle. Who knew that sadistic pleasure could be derived from watching someone drink a milkshake.

Brendon was really struggling now. He was red with embarrassment and honestly was near tears from the pain. Finally, he just set the milkshake down.

Ryan raised an eyebrow as he watched Brendon slowly get up, cradling his stomach. “Where’re you goin’?”

“Bathroom. My stomach feels a little upset.” He said a bit too quickly for it to be the truth. Ryan didn’t press, eyes locked on Brendon as he slowly walked to the bedroom. Ryan could still hear his whimpering even as he waddled away, and fuck. He almost felt a little guilty, getting so horny over it.

Almost. Almost felt guilty.

He anxiously sat on the couch, not bothering to try to wish away his boner as he wondered what Brendon was doing in the bathroom.

After a few minutes of waiting, Ryan finally got up. He started to pick up the empty fast food containers, biting his lip as he took them into the kitchen to through them away. Before he did, though, he looked at the receipts.

There’s NO way Brendon ate all of that today. He figured that they were leftovers and had been reheated when in reality the now empty box of chicken was delivered just HOURS before Ryan arrived. His dick throbbed.

Ryan quickly put the empty containers in the trash, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bathroom.

Fuck it.

Brendon hadn’t locked it, so Ryan didn’t even need to knock. He gave him absolutely no warning.

Brendon was leaning back against the wall, sweatshirt pushed up while he slowly rubbed his stomach.

He was so dazed and sluggish that he couldn’t even process the sound of the door being opened, blankly staring at Ryan before his eyes nearly popped out of his skull, face dark red with embarrassment as he tugged down his shirt.

Wordlessly, Ryan moved Brendon’s hands out of the way and tugged the fabric back up, exposing the swell of his stomach.

“Holy fuck, Brendon...” Ryan finally broke the silence, gawking at the round, taut belly his boyfriend sported.

Brendon was speechless, mortified that Ryan was seeing him like this. Ryan had replaced his hands, gently rubbing the tender skin.

“I didn’t mean to,” Brendon whispered, tears brimming with shame. Ryan’s eyes widened when he realized how embarrassed the boy was, and he quickly let the sweater drop down over his stomach.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful, okay?” Even more beautiful, in his opinion. Ryan cupped Brendon’s cheeks, noting how his face seemed a bit chubbier as well.

“I’ll lose it, I pro-“

“No, don’t worry about it. Okay? I want you to be comfortable.” Ryan cooed, which confused Brendon.

“You don’t want me to lose weight?” He asked, head cocked like a dog keenly listening to its owner.

“I don’t even think you’ve gained that much. You’re just bloated.” Ryan said with a smile, gently patting Brendon’s firm stomach. “Hell, it looks like I got you knocked up before I left.”

“Oh my God, Ryan, stop,” he chuckled, sniffling quietly as Ryan rubbed it. It suddenly felt a lot better.

“See? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He knew he couldn’t outright tell Brendon that he found it hot that he looked five months pregnant, so he had to start somewhere. “C’mon, I wanna spend time with you. I’ve been gone for so long. Maybe we can watch a movie and then we can go out for dinner?”

Brendon tensed up, biting his lip. “I’m too big to go out right now.” He said in a tiny voice, refusing to meet Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan didn’t want to push. What type of boyfriend would he be if he did? He wants Brendon to overeat and gain weight, yea, but he also wants him to be happy.

“You’re not too big for anything, okay? You’re gorgeous.” Ryan’s hand lingered on Brendon’s rounded middle, gently rubbing his fingertips across the crest. “But okay, I’ll order it in. I’m starving, haven’t eaten anything since before the flight.”

Brendon opened his mouth to object, but Ryan was already prancing back out into the living room, snatching his phone from the couch.

“Can you get me something light, please? Like a salad, maybe?” Brendon asked as he followed Ryan, breathing sounding less labored than it did previously. Ryan smiled. That meant he was ready to eat more.

“Of course.” He pecked his boyfriend’s cheek, helping him settle back on the couch.

Ryan did not order him “something light”. Brendon groaned when dinner was ordered and he saw a massive burger in place of a salad. Ryan urged him to eat it, saying that he didn’t want any leftovers.

Brendon ate it.