Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Oscar slammed the door behind him, kicking off his shoes as he set his keys in the small bowl next to the door. Peeling his suit jacket off, the male walked further into the small apartment, tossing his jacket onto the couch. Losing his tie, Oscar pushed open his office door with his shoulder, setting his briefcase on the filing cabinet. Checking his watch once more, the male plopped down into his chair, booting up his computer. After his computer booted up, Oscar grabbed his notes from his top desk drawer, opened his blog, and started writing his article.

After ten minutes of typing, Oscar leaned back, letting out a small sigh. He read the screen a few times before rolling his eyes and deleting the page. The food was fine, and the service was great. Nothing was stopping Oscar from writing a good review of his latest assignment; the problem seemed to be Oscar himself. No matter how much food he reviewed or traveled around the world, something was missing. Then Oscar's eyes flicked toward his fingers, wincing mentally at the tan line on his ring finger. He was supposed to get married later this year, but with his job and never being home, his fiance decided she couldn't wait for him to show up every so often. That was the broad stroke of why they ended their relationship; the smaller ones revealed a secret that Oscar had been hiding from everyone. He liked men.

Blowing out air, Oscar turned his computer screen off, shuffled toward his bedroom, and flopped down onto his bed. Sleep was never a problem for the 25-year-old man, but lately, it felt like no matter how hard or what foods he tried, nothing could help. Rolling onto his back, Oscar laid his arm over his eyes, listening to the small creaks and groans of his apartment, settling until sleep finally overtook him.

Oscar woke up the next morning groggily, slipping out of bed, and then shuffled toward the kitchen to start his usual pot of coffee. While the smell of coffee engulfed the small room, the male checked his answering machine, finding he had a few missed calls. Most were spam calls—a few from his mother and one from work—telling him he had a new assignment in Paris. Letting out a sigh, Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose. He barely even started the article he was supposed to write about the local new pub in town, with a few days until the deadline. Normally, the man would lock himself inside his office until he finished. It looks like work had other plans.

After calling back his work and arguing for what felt like hours, Oscar finally admitted defeat. His boss brought up a good point: he could always bring his laptop and work from the hotel and maybe even get a few paragraphs done before he landed. The male scanned his small apartment before trudging back into the bedroom and started pulling his suitcases from the shelf in his closet. Since he'd be in Paris until the article was complete, Oscar started grabbing handfuls of clothing before shoving them into the suitcase, before grabbing the toiletries and cords he'd need for his phone and laptop. After shoveling a few more items into his suitcase, Oscar gave his apartment one last scan before sighing and slowly leaving the apartment.

***

As soon as Oscar landed, he knew this assignment would be more of a headache than a vacation. The airport was crowded, and everyone was bumping into and rubbing shoulders with each other. After grabbing his luggage, Oscar pushed himself through the crowd, setting his suitcase next to him as he looked down at his watch, and then back up to the parking lot. Oscar waited ten minutes before a taxi slowly pulled up to the curb, loading his suitcase into the trunk of the car. The male pulled up the address on his phone and showed it to the driver.

The drive through the city was peaceful. Oscar watched the different shops and restaurants pass them quickly. After they got to the hotel, the male paid and thanked the driver before carrying his luggage into the hotel. Once checked in, the male followed the bellhop to his hotel room, tipping him a few bucks before pushing open the door to his room. The room was average size, and the bathroom was to the left as soon as you opened the door.

Walking down the small hallway, Oscar found a closet with a small ironing board hanging from the wall. In the bedroom was a king-sized bed. On the right side of the bed was a small dresser with a lamp, while on the left was a nightstand. The room also had a couch and coffee table in front, and a TV a few inches away. On the nightstand next to the bed were different room service numbers as well as the front desks. Oscar sighed, setting his suitcase onto the bed, and then started unpacking.

After unpacking, Oscar sat down on the edge of the bed, picking up one of the room service brochures. Scanning the small menu, the male's stomach let out a soft growl. Oscar put his hand on his stomach, chewing his bottom lip. One cheat meal couldn't hurt, right? As Oscar picked up the phone, his hands shook slightly, and excitement rushed down his spine. This was the first time he even thought about breaking his diet. He nervously ordered his food and then pulled his laptop onto his lap, typing in the restaurant's name. Cafe Leblanc was a small run-of-the-mill bakery that also functions as a coffee shop for the locals.

Luckily, the menu was small, so it wouldn't hurt too much of Oscar's appetite to try everything. It also looked usually quiet, so he would have the luxury of taking his time. Oscar snapped his laptop shut as a knock at the door caught his attention. Walking to the door, Oscar grabbed his food, tipped the waiter, and shut the door with his foot. Setting the silver tray on the coffee table, the male scooped the remote up from the bed and plopped down onto the couch. Flipping through the channels as he ate, flavor exploded in Oscar's mouth, causing him to moan softly. "Maybe indulging in a few cheat meals wouldn't be too bad." The male thought while taking another large bite of food.

***

Oscar's stomach was still slightly bloated from last night. He ran a hand down his stomach, and the male's lips were pressed into a thin line. Luckily, the bloat wasn't too noticeable with his suit jacket, but the thought that it was there sent different emotions through the man. Inhaling deeply, the man scanned the busy street, then glanced back down at his phone. Walking around the city was confusing. Between the twisty roads and the language barrier, Oscar finally managed to find the cafe after an hour of piecing together directions from different citizens. Standing outside the deserted cafe caused the man's stomach to sink. He already had the feeling he'd either have to give the cafe a bad review or fake a five-star review just to make sure there wasn't any backlash. Swallowing thickly, Oscar slowly entered the restaurant, noting the few wooden tables shoved into the corners of the shop as well as how cramped everything felt.

"Welcome to Cafe Leblanc. My name is Nigel. How can I help you, cutie?" A shorter male asked with a large grin as he leaned against the counter. The shorter man had auburn brown hair that was cut to the top of his ears, while his dark forest green eyes had a small pink scar on his lip and above his eyebrow.

Rolling his eyes, Oscar snorted. "Can I start with your strawberry croissant with a caramel latte?" He asked.

"Of course, can I get a name for the order?" Nigel quizzed, scooping up a black cup from the shelf next to him.

"Oscar." He replied, waiting a few seconds before spinning on his heels to find a table. Once he sat down, the male pulled out his notepad and glasses from his side bag.

Ten minutes later, Nigel set down a small plate and black cup in front of him and said, "Let me know if you need anything else, sweetheart." He beamed.

Oscar shook his head, taking a bite of the croissant. Even though Nigel was annoying, the food was nice. The strawberry cream cheese in the middle of the dessert coated Oscar's tongue, while the caramel overwhelmed his mouth, causing him to moan lowly. This was the second time this city had sent the man's taste buds into overdrive; his brain fought the urge to stuff the whole dessert into his mouth and chug his hot coffee. The man almost considered packing his life back at home and moving here. So far, it was the food that was keeping his attention, not the people; however, there was only one person in particular at the moment.

Oscar's eyes flicked toward Nigel, who was head-bobbing to whatever he was listening to while cleaning the counters. Oscar couldn't hate the other man for doing his job, even though it was highly unprofessional to flirt with the customers. However, he wasn't back at home anymore; he was in Paris, the city of love. It was probably normal for people to flirt a little with customers he'd never known. The man's stomach growled, snapping him from his train of thought. Oscar pushed himself from the table, slowly walking up to the counter.

"Was everything to your liking?" Nigel asked, taking his earbud out.

"It was amazing; do you recommend anything else?" Oscar asked.

"We have a mean cheesecake, or if you want something softer on your stomach, we have a few cupcakes that people always love to order." The shorter man suggested.

"How about both?" Oscar replied, causing Nigel's eyes to widen before returning to normal a few seconds later.

"A man with an appetite, I like that." He grinned. "I'll have it right out." He added, walking toward the display case.

True to his word, Nigel came out a few minutes later, grabbing the dish and cup from the table, and then disappeared into the back rooms. Oscar took a few notes on the croissant and coffee before he started eating the cheesecake first, chewing the inside of his cheek as he quickly jotted down his notes. The cheesecake went down easily, as did the first cupcake. Oscar started slowing down after the second one and then struggled with the third.

Panting heavily as he cradled his stomach, he honestly had enough to work with after the coffee and pastry, but his stomach craved more. Oscar slowly stood, shuffling toward the counter, slapping what he hoped was enough for everything plus a tip onto the counter before he started making his way back to the hotel.

Chapter Text

When Oscar opened his eyes, he let out a low groan, rolling over onto his side. A hand ran down his stomach, and the male froze, peeling the blanket off him. His stomach was still bloated—not too bad where it would show if he wore something baggy—but still enough for Oscar to scrunch up his nose and pinch the thin layer of fat. As the male explored the thin layer, a spark of excitement ran through him. It felt nice to be able to let go and indulge in a few sweets, but then fear engulfed Oscar. If he continued indulging, he'd be like every other food critic working from home because they gained too much weight. Sighing, Oscar stood, grabbing a baggy sweater and slacks, before walking down to the kitchen. I filled a mug of coffee, then grabbed a muffin from the small basket on the counter. Then the male headed to the small balcony, looking out to the city.

Oscar worked through lunch, closing his lap as the male leaned back in his chair. As his stomach growled softly, placing a hand on his still-bloated belly, Oscar glanced back at the kitchen, chewing the inside of his cheek. Against his better judgment, Oscar grabbed his keys and wallet quickly, left his hotel room, and rushed toward the small cafe across the street. The small bell above the door chimed softly, causing Nigel to glance up from the bowl he was mixing. A large smile formed on his face as he slid the bowl to the side, washed his hands, and approached the front counter.

"Coming to my shop twice in one week must be my lucky day." He grinned.

"Don't be so happy; there was nothing to do at the hotel, and all the other shops didn't look decent enough." Oscar scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Nigel made a noise in the back of his throat. "Glad my tacky shop could meet your standards," he said.

"Don't think too hard into it; I wouldn't want your pretty head to inflate more." The chubby male replied.

Nigel barked out a laugh. "Is there anything specific you were looking for?" Nigel quizzed.

"Something light; I'm still full from yesterday," Oscar said.

Nigel smiled, his eyes observing the other male for a few moments before nodding his head, and rang a few items up on the register. "12.30," he said. Oscar paid and went to find a small table, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his social A few moments later, Nigel came to his table, setting a small cup and a plate with a ham and egg sandwich down on the table. "I heard tea is good for digestion." He smiled.

"Thank you, Nigel..." Oscar whispered as the other male bowed and disappeared behind the counter.

Oscar sipped his tea for a few minutes, watching Nigel work. Feeling his cheeks darkening, he couldn't fall in love with someone in just two days, could he? Even if he was in Paris, it wasn't normal to fall for a stranger you barely met; it was even stranger to fall in love with someone just for their food. Oscar's eyes shifted down to his stomach, pawing at his stomach for a moment before shaking the thoughts to the back of his head. He was being stupid; it was the city affecting his way of looking at Nigel. After today, he would go home, write his article, and forget about the man. After finishing his food, Oscar stood, feeling his stomach drop slightly. The feeling sent another wave of excitement to Oscar. Feeling his cheeks darken again, the male mentally shook his head and quickly left.

Back in his hotel room, Oscar slumped down on the couch, burping loudly. The male slowly lifted his sweater, grabbed a handful of pudge, and shook it. Oscar was nowhere near fat; he was estimated to look chubby. Oscar couldn't admit feeling great; it was a feeling he had never experienced before. Half of him wanted to continue; he'd been working way too hard not to indulge every once in a while, but the other half was afraid. If he continued gaining weight, then he wouldn't be able to travel, which was one of the reasons why he wanted to start this job. After his mother passed, Oscar felt trapped at home, and traveling was his way of feeling some sort of freedom.

Would he feel trapped if he stayed with Nigel? Would the other male even want him too? Shaking his head, the man let out a groan, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It shouldn't be this hard for him to choose; if he gained weight, he might have a chance with Nigel, but there is also the possibility that he'd never date bigger people. If that was the case, then he shouldn't mess with the perfect job he's ever had in his life. Oscar laid his arm over his face, blowing out air as he stared up at the ceiling. Oscar lay on the couch for what felt like hours before he rolled off the couch and walked back towards the balcony. Opening his laptop, Oscar drove into his work but only managed to type a few paragraphs before his eyes started shifting down to the small cafe.

Oscar watched Nigel mop the floor for a few minutes before the lights kicked off. Shortly after, the male slipped out of the doorway, locked the door, and spun on his heels. Nigel went to put his headphones in when he noticed Oscar on the balcony. The younger male smiled and waved. Swallowing thickly, Oscar found himself waving back, heat coiled in his stomach as his palms started to sweat. The pair stared at each other for a long moment before Nigel glanced down at his feet, slid his headphones into his ears, and started walking off into the night. The older male watched him disappear around the corner before he slammed his laptop closed and rushed back into his hotel room. He locked the double doors swiftly, leaning against them while setting his laptop on the desk next to him. Oscar let out a small groan, gently hitting the back of his head on the door. Forming a first at his side, this couldn't have gotten any worse.

Chapter Text

When Oscor woke up this morning, he knew it was going to be a bad day. His head was pounding against his skull, and his limbs felt heavier. Today was his last day in France, and Oscar had a mixture of emotions bubbling in his chest. Half of him was saddened by the fact he wouldn't see Nigel anymore; as much as he hated admitting it, he liked bantering with the other male. It was refreshing to have someone bite back and challenge him, but the other half of him was excited to return home. The bed in the hotel room wasn't anything like his back at home; sure, the pillows were fluffier, and the male made a mental note to try and stuff one of them into his suitcase. But nothing felt as good as home. Blinking a few times, the male pulled the blankets off and slid to the edge of the bed. He used the heel of his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes as he hoisted himself from the bed and then padded into the bathroom for a shower.

Once clean, the male slowly walked back into his hotel room, running a towel through his hair and ignoring his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Slipping into the kitchen, Oscar scrunched his nose at the food wrappers from Nigel's bakery, his eyes flicking down at his stomach as his scowl deepened. The male couldn't get the baker out of his brain, and that both pissed him off as well as scared him. Everyone who knew the critic knew he was married to the job, rarely taking days off for personal days. His boss often nags him to take breaks and explore a little, but if the male had to be honest, he loved his job; the adventure was in the food for him. Grabbing the leftover eggs and ham in the fridge, Oscar quickly made himself breakfast. The small hotel was soon filled with the aroma of food. Oscar bounced his head to a beat in his head as he gently moved the eggs around in a pan.

The buzzing from his bedroom seemed to intensify. Rolling his eyes, the male turned down the heat and quickly went back into his room, scooping the phone from the nightstand and noticing one of his editors was calling. Letting out a small sigh, Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose before sliding the button across the screen before returning to his breakfast. "This better be good; it's my last day, and I wanted some peace and quiet." He growled.

"About that, I hope you haven't packed yet." His editor replied nervously.

The male ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you talking about?" He demanded once again.

Following a brief period of silence, "They liked your first article on the bakery; they want you to stay an extra week to get an exclusive interview as well as maybe some more food inputs." They explained.

Anger bubbled in Oscar's stomach as he let out a small growl. The pressure behind his eyes seemed to intensify as his hands shook slightly. "They what!?" He snarled. "I have other places to be! I can't stay here for some bakery!" He continued.

"They are aware of that; the chief has already scheduled all of your appointments and has everything figured out. He wants you to concentrate on this bakery right now. It's rapidly gaining popularity and becoming the greatest in Paris. She said.

Oscar's head began to ache as the rage in his stomach subsided. Unfortunately, fate had other ideas for him, and he was honestly too tired to fight it anymore. All he wanted to do was go home and forget about Nigel. "And how the hell does the chief want me to have an exclusive interview, pray tell? The baker has an extremely busy week." With a grunt, he turned off the oven and realized he was no longer hungry.

The woman on the other end chuckled softly. "He already has set up everything for you tomorrow; you'll be taking Nigel out to a nice dinner and getting your story." She instructed.

The male narrowed his eyes at the pan, rolling his eyes. "I never told you his name," he muttered.

The editor barked out a laugh, "Don't have to; I work for a journalist. I have my ways to find out information." She grinned.

The other sighed, setting the phone down on the counter, and then put the woman on speaker. "Don't stick your nose in my business." He growled.

She gasped playfully. "I'm hurt, Oscar. I'm simply looking out for my boss; if something happened to you, then I'd be out of work." The woman replied.

Oscar quickly packed the eggs and ham into an old Tupperware box before placing it in the fridge. "That would be touching if you weren't my best friend, and I already know you plan to try and get us together." He sighed.

"Again, I'm hurt that you would assume that about me, plus it wouldn't hurt for you to get a hookup during a work stay." They stated.

The male bit his lower lip until he detected a hint of blood. Since it had been too long since the man had gone out with someone, Oscar toyed with the notion of asking the other man out on a date, but something always got in the way. He tried to put half the blame on his employment; he was a frequent traveler, and lengthy distances were never effective. However, half of them were aware that Oscar was too afraid to commit, particularly because this would be his actual first romantic relationship. "It wouldn't work, and you know that I am married to my job." He quarreled.

The woman scoffed, and the male could feel her rolling her eyes. "You can't be married if you are only thirty." She said.

A smirk formed on Oscar's face. "So then, what happened to you?" He taunted.

"Shut up; I'm hanging up now." The editor growled, promptly hanging up.

Oscar shook his head and sighed, looking down at his phone. "God damn it." Leaning on the counter, he mumbled. The man's mind was too disorganized for him to think clearly, so he chewed on the tip of his thumb until Oscar's phone buzzed on the counter, snapping him out of his train of thought.

I'm excited for our date, Grumpy. - N 

Chapter Text

Oscar's grimace intensified as he stuffed his laptop and other gear into his backpack. He was dreading this day. The male critic would lie to himself if he weren't furious, but there was also a tinge of amusement. He still had an hour before meeting the baker. Running a hand through his hair, the older male groaned, slumping down onto the edge of the bed. Oscar nibbled his bottom lip, a sign of mixed feelings if he was being frank with himself, which he rarely was. He was not hostile toward Nigel; in fact, he enjoyed the other man's meal and the baker's bark. Oscar always enjoyed a challenge, and Nigel provided him with one.

Regretfully, the older man lost his patience every time he saw the other man's arrogant smirk or the spark that glowed in his eyes as they bantered together. Oscar sighed wearily and gave a harsh shake of his head, sending his thoughts to the back of his mind. All he needed to do to avoid being sued would be to secure one interview and perhaps write a brief piece promoting Nigel's food once more. The reviewer will board a plane to return home, where he can relax, take a month off work, and concentrate on restoring his lost dignity.

Oscar let out another sigh, removing his phone from the nightstand and putting his bag over his shoulder. Before leaving, the older man took his keys from the little bowl by the door. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding hard against his chest, before sliding swiftly into the packed streets. Even with a coffee break, the critic was at the bakery in no time. Oscar sipped his warm drink and observed the large group of people moving slowly across the street and into and out of the bakery. It was a noisy place to enter. Oscar glanced at Nigel, who was working at the counter with another coworker, for a considerable amount of time before locating a booth in the rear since the incessant chatting was hurting his ears. Taking out his additional equipment and laptop, he decided to attempt to finish portions of his article. If the man were to be honest, he had no idea what he would write and would most likely make something up to appease his publisher.

At some point, Nigel slid into the booth seat in front of him, leaning his chin on his hands while smiling. Oscar sipped his drink, glaring at the younger male. "Glad you made it; I was worried you'd gotten lost and grumpy." He beamed.

The critic snorted, rolling his eyes. "It's not that hard when you have Google. Besides, I'm not here for you." He commented.

The other male protruded his lip slightly and said, "That's not what your publisher said." He leaned back in his seat.

Oscar turned to face Nigel, and his cheeks flushed. Nigel leaned forward with a smirk on his face, gently tracing a finger along the top of his laptop. The older man swatted the baker's hand away, rolling his eyes. "Stop being a pest." He protested.

The baker laughed heartily, his amused eyes lighting up as he softly closed Oscar's laptop. "So mean." He chuckled.

The critic growled, hitting the other male's hand. "Let's just get this over with." He answered, opening his laptop again.

In defense, Nigel raised his hands and said, "Okay, okay, have it your way, cranky. You need to finish writing that piece, so how about some tea and some more food?" He asked.

Oscar sighed, "Fine," he muttered. He waited a few seconds before glancing back over toward the baker. "Thank you..." He trailed off.

"Grumpy, of course," Nigel grinned while whispering. He slipped from the booth and vanished behind the counter. The smaller male employee gave his coworker a broad smile as the reviewer observed, then grabbed some pastries and sandwiches and put them in a big pink box. He then turned on his heel and filled a rather large cup with hot tea. The smaller male talked with customers as well as a few other co-workers before waving them off and returning to the booth, setting the box between them. "Choose whichever you want. I recommend the sandwiches; they were tested this morning." He said. The older male stared at him for a long moment before reaching into the box and pulling one of the sandwiches out. Pulling his pad of paper closer, he slowly took a large bite of food and moaned slightly. Nigel smiled softly, clearing his throat. "So what do you want to know first?" He asked.

Oscar let out a sigh and took a quick peek at his computer screen. "What drew you to Paris to launch your business? You had a lot of options, but you chose to go to one of the busiest locations on the planet." He enquired.

For some minutes, Nigel chewed his lower lip without saying anything. "I suppose my mother served as my inspiration. When I was sick or upset, Mom would cook this special treat for me, which felt like a hug. Mom was usually in the kitchen baking while I was in school. Everything was improved by it." He explained, grinning at the memory.

The critic chuckled. "Good to know you're a mama's boy." He smirked.

The baker crossed his arms over his chest, a playful expression lighting up his eyes. "Mister Grumpy, how about you? What drew you to being a food critic? You have the ability to ruin people's careers." He asked.

The older man hesitated, feeling butterflies in his gut. Oscar looked at the shorter man, his heart pounding in his ears. The critic dragged a hand across his face; he ignored the fact that half of him was always aware of the power at his disposal. Most of the time, he lied because he didn't want to see someone lose their job because he left a negative review. If he was being completely honest, every meal he had ever had was either too excellent for him to handle or lacked a single ingredient that caused it to taste sour. "This isn't about me..." He became quiet.

The baker smiled broadly and leaned forward once again. "It seems only that I get to ask some questions as well. I want to remember the grumpy reviewer who enjoyed my food, especially since this will be our last encounter." He said.

Oscar nodded his head and sighed in defeat. The least he could have done for Nigel was this. "I adore eating and traveling. I therefore choose to combine the two." He responded.

Nigel watched the other gesture with his hands, nodding as he spoke. "What about your parents? Are they back at home?" He asked.

Smirking, the critic said, "I think it's my turn to ask a question." He challenges. "Do you have a product you like to make more than the others?" He asked.

"During the holidays, I make that dessert mentioned before. The one my mother made me." Nigel answered softly.

Oscar jotted down the answer, chewing the inside of his cheek. They were silent for a long moment, inhaling and exhaling softly. "Do you have a name? I'd love to try it." He asked.

The baker glanced down at the table, picking at the corner of the box for a few minutes. He swallowed thickly. "Do you want another pastry?" He asked shakily.

Oscar nodded his head and regarded the other man for a bit before reaching into the pink box once more. Taking out a strawberry-flavored tart, he licked the sauce off his fingers, whistling a little. If you'd like, we can omit that question, he said. "How about you? Do you find it hard to maintain your business with other bakeries and restaurants around?" Instead, he inquired.

After a long interval of silence during which he carefully considered what to say next, Nigel laughed. "Maybe there is a heart inside the Tin Man." Leaning a cheek on his palm, he pondered. "We strive for freshness as well as love in all our products; that's what makes us different from the other bakeries and restaurants." He responded coolly.

The older man took a quick look at the pastry before turning to face the other man. "It is evident; every product you have shown me is outstanding. Do you manage the store alone, or do your parents assist you in some way?" He asked.

The smaller male glanced down again, a spark of sadness in his eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip again. "No, my parents aren't here. They're retired in Cuba." He answered softly.

The critic studied the other male for a moment, exhaling softly. "My parents are also retired; they wanted to travel as well, so my mother made my dad go on a cruise. I don't see them much either." Oscar explained.

Nigel grinned. "It seems like we have a lot more in common than you think, Grumpy." He said.

"Yeah, maybe you're right..." He trailed off with a chuckle.

After that, they sat in silence as the baker saw the other man eat. Following the fourth pastry, the younger man picked up the box and once more vanished behind the counter. Nigel took the box to the table and filled it again with food after it was completed. I see. The interview house. Plus, you might be able to bring some with you when you return home. Get more media attention for us." He shrugged and replied.

Oscar laughed a little out loud. "Mr. Baker, you better be careful. It's your ego that is showing." He stated.

Nigel's eyes enlarged, then a few seconds later went back to normal. "W-was that a joke?" He enquired.

With a quick peek at his laptop, the reviewer closed it carefully and began packing away his belongings. After drinking his now-cold coffee, he gave the other person a funny glance. "Guess you'll just have to find out, huh?" He made fun of this, slipping his way out of the booth and grabbing the pink box.

The smaller male watched the chubbier male for a moment; his eyes wandered down to his stomach. After a few moments, Nigel's eyes flicked up toward the other's face. "Does that mean you are going to stay in Paris longer?" The baker asked, who appeared to brighten up a little.

The older man remained silent, considering his next move. He swallowed thickly, chewing the inside of his cheek. He gave the box in his hands a glance while grinning a little. "Sure, I'll be staying for a few more days." He confirmed it with a soft smile.

With a hesitant grin, the younger man looked down at his feet and picked at his nails. Then the stockier man turned back to face Oscar. Does that imply that we could go to lunch together? Eating the same thing every day might grow tiresome. Furthermore, you haven't yet seen the sighs." He asked.

The critic barked out a laugh. "Is this your attempt to ask me out, Mr. Baker?" He taunted playfully.

Oscar saw another playful flame ignite in Nigel's eyes. The smaller of the two moved forward a few steps, rounding the other with his arms behind his back. "Only if you accept; I mean, someone like you doesn't seem to take chances." He retaliated.

The critic glared at the other, growling slightly. "I take chances!" He shouted.

Nigel's smile seemed to grow as he narrowed his eyes at the older male. Gently nudging Oscar's shoulder with his own. "Oh yeah?" Nigel questioned skeptically. "Prove it," he added.

Oscar growled, causing the others to giggle. "All right! We are going to have lunch at noon tomorrow." He demanded. "You can prove to me that this city is more than a cheap advertisement." He went on.

"Sounds like a date to me," exclaimed the smaller male. He gave a little chirp, lunged forward, and put his arms around the other male's neck before giving him a cheek kiss. "See you tomorrow, Grumpy." He said this, rushing back behind the counter before Oscar could protest.

Chapter Text

Oscar sighed, staring at himself in the mirror as he slowly buttoned his black shirt with matching black pants. He let out a shaky breath as he quickly fixed his hair, running a hand down his face. To be honest, if the critic wasn't sure why he was nervous, part of him wanted to chalk it up to the fact he hadn't had a date in over four years. He also couldn't trust the baker not to try anything. Oscar has met too many people trying to date him just because they think they'll get to travel around the world with him. The chubby male checked his phone for the fifth time, rolling his eyes as he looked over his outfit one last time. Walking out of his bedroom, Oscar quickly grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys before exiting the apartment. After double-checking the address, the male quickly dipped into the crowd while walking down the busy sidewalk.

It didn't take very long to get to the cafe. Oscar stared at the small building in front of him. Opening the door and walking inside, he was greeted by the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and the comforting hum of quiet conversation. Finding a cozy corner seat by the window, he ordered a cappuccino. As he waited for his drink, he glanced around the cafe, observing the mix of people quietly sipping their beverages and engaging in conversation. "I was worried you had gotten cold feet all of a sudden." Nigel beamed, appearing next to the table. The male rolled his eyes. The baker snorted silently, sitting down across from the other, leaning forward slightly while the waiter set down Oscar's drink. As the warmth of the coffee cup seeped into his hands, Oscar's nerves began to ease. He took a satisfying sip of the rich, creamy cappuccino and sighed contentedly.

The male nodded his head toward the waiter and asked, "Do I get to know the plans for today?" The critic quizzed.

Nigel smiled widely. "And spoil the surprise?" He gasped, putting a hand to his chest.

The critic growled slightly, tightening his grip around his cup. "If you're going to be annoying all day, I am leaving." He stated.

The baker gazed at Oscar for a moment, hesitating to speak as the waitress delivered his drink. "Can't you try to be less grumpy, even for a day?" he asked.

Oscar arched an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side in confusion. "Can you be less annoying for a day?" He countered, the corner of his lip twitching slightly.

The baker leaned back in his seat slightly and said, "How about this? If you can pretend to enjoy my company for the day, I'll stop teasing you so much." He offered, holding out a hand.

The chubby male glanced down at the other's hand, then back up at Nigel. Lips pressed tightly into a thin line: "Fine, deal." He whispered.

The smaller man clapped his hands. "Great, now finish your coffee. I have the whole day planned, and we are wasting time here," he chirped.

Oscar opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding slowly. He took a long drink of coffee. A few minutes later, Nigel finished his coffee, and the older man followed the younger one as they slowly exited the cafe. The baker exchanged a glance with the older man, then slowly slipped his hand into Oscar's. The older male glanced down at their hands, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He let out a sigh, ignoring the heat that had built up in his stomach. Swallowing, the older male followed the other down the street. As they wandered through the bustling streets, Nigel pointed out historical landmarks and shared intriguing stories about each one. "Have you ever named any of your pastries after the landmarks?" Oscar asked.

Nigel turned his attention toward the critic. "I thought about it when we first opened, but then I thought how cheesy it sounded. My mom didn't want to exploit our shop like that." He answered.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, the baker hesitated for a moment. "Have you gone to places that have done that?" He quizzed.

The older male barked out a laugh, nodding. "Yeah, I went to a few places that do that. Let me tell you that the names don't make the food better." He joked.

"I could only imagine; I don't trust anyone who calls a drunk sex on the beach," Nigel replied.

Oscar shrugged. "I wouldn't know; I don't drink." He said.

The baker paused, gazing at the other man. "Maybe that's why you're so grumpy! You need to relax," he exclaimed. "

Oscar gave the other man the other man a menacing look and growled softly. "You promised," he warned. warned.

Nigel raised his hands in defense, stepping back. "I'm not being annoying, just stating a fact," he reassured.

Oscar fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Are you offering?" he suddenly asked.

The baker's eyes widened and then returned to their normal size a few minutes later. "What?" he asked.

The older man sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Can't you hear properly?" He asked without hostility. "Are you offering me a drink?" he repeated.

The smaller man smiled and let out a chuckle. "Would you like to grab a drink with me?" he asked.

The chubby man raised a finger and said, "Just one drink..." He trailed off.

Nigel nodded his head, holding up his hands. "One drink," he repeated.

Nigel gently took hold of Oscar's elbow and led him further into the city. The chubby man lost count of how many turns they took until they finally stopped at a large building with a bright neon sign flickering above them. Oscar glanced at the building and then back at Nigel. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

The baker smiled gently and said, "I come here all the time." He then took the man's hand and led him inside.

The loud thumping of the music bounced off the black walls as neon lights illuminated the darkness. Oscar inched closer to the smaller male, his eyes scanning the large crowd of people. Nigel led the way, weaving through the crowd and tightening his grip around the critic's wrist. Gently pushing him into a booth in the corner of the club before disappearing into a sea of people. Oscar curled into the corner, watching people brush up against each other, waving his hand as a woman came up to him and offered a glow-in-the-dark necklace. The woman pouted slightly, leaving the glowing necklace on the table before disappearing onto the dance floor once again. Seconds turned into long minutes as the older male picked at his fingernails, gently grabbing the necklace and playing with the small plastic through his fingers.

Just as Oscar was getting up from the booth, Nigel finally appeared back at the table, setting down a dark drink in front of the critic. "I didn't know what you liked. Sorry, it took me so long," he apologized.

The older male glanced down at the drink. "T-Thanks," he muttered.

Taking a few long sips of his drink, the older male swallowed. "Do you ever think about leaving home?" Oscar asked.

Nigel stared at the other, shaking his head. "No, I couldn't leave the shop. As much as I would love to travel around and see the world, The male said,

"What if you had a chance to travel? I bet you'd be able to hire someone to take care of the shop for a while." The male offered.

"There's nobody else I trust with my bakery; I've been in charge for so long I doubt I could ever give that up." Nigel chuckled.

"That's how I feel about my job; I've been doing it so long that I can't imagine myself doing anything else." The older male answered with a soft smile.

The baker looked at the half-drunk drink and said, "I know you said only one, but I would love to continue this night with you," he begged.

The critic looked down, chewed his bottom lip for a few minutes, and then sighed. "Alright," he suddenly said.

Hours flew by, and at some point in the night, Nigel quickly downed three more drinks before dragging the overweight man onto the dance floor. As they danced, the baker slowly moved closer, placing his hands on the other man's hips, and they started gently swaying together. Oscar remained silent for a long moment, observing the smaller male while chewing the inside of his cheek. The warmth from earlier began to return, spreading down to his lower belly and growing hotter. "N-Nigel..." he stammered.

The baker grinned widely, resting his head against the other's shoulder. "It's not fair that you know my name and I don't know yours," he whispered, inching closer to the older man's face.

The critic made a noise in the back of his throat as they stared at each other. "Oscar," he whispered back. Nigel hummed and let out a drunken giggle. The elder man stayed motionless, allowing the younger man to continue, his eyes widening as he leaned forward and met Oscar's lips with his own. Oscar closed his eyes and kissed Nigel back before his eyes returned to normal a few moments later.

Chapter Text

When Oscar woke up the next morning, his head was pounding, the light above him stung his eyes, and his mouth tasted like cheap booze. The male's eyes slowly shifted toward the spot next to him, and relief washed over him. He closed his eyes a few minutes later and draped an arm over his face. In the silence of the room, Oscar's mind wandered back to last night, his eyes widening. The male shot up, his fingers gently tracing his lips. The male's heart was beating against his as questions swirled in his head, swallowing thickly as his hands shook slightly. "Okay, okay, calm down." He muttered, quickly pushing himself out of bed and rushing toward the bathroom. As the critic waited for the water to heat up, his mind couldn't help but wander back toward Nigel.

Last night he got drunk on their date; if Oscar even wanted to call it that, they were laughing and joking, and then all of a sudden Nigel kissed him. The older male would be lying to himself if that didn't spark something inside him. Half of him found the baker annoying and too loud. But deep down, Oscar found himself admiring him as well, between his businesses, and no matter how much the critic argued with him, the smaller male always held a smile. The older male wanted to see Nigel smile more, hear him laugh, and watch his eyes sparkle with amusement. Pulling his sticky clothing off, the male walked into the shower, shaking the thoughts to the back of his mind.

After his shower, Oscar found himself wandering around the house. He glanced down at his phone for the millionth time before snapping it closed and tossing it onto the desk. "Fucking Nigel. Making me act like a fucking school girl..." He cursed, forming a fist at his side. Running a hand down his face, the older male sat down at his desk, pushing his phone from his view and staring at the blank screen in front of him. He should catch up on his other work that was pushed aside due to this surprise trip, but Oscar couldn't focus. His mind was too clouded by questions and images of last night's date. He chewed the inside of his cheek before scooping up his phone and staring at Nigel's contact. Don't do it; he'll distract you. A small voice in the back of his head whispered. Shaking the small voice away, Oscar clicked the male's number.

Hey, I had a good time last night (8:58).

A few seconds passed before his phone buzzed in his hand. Glancing down at the device, Oscar couldn't help but smile. I'm glad; maybe we can do it again sometime! - 8:59

I'd love to. Do you have any other romantic spots to show a tourist like me? -9:00

I have many places to show you, Oscar. -9:01

"He didn't mention anything about the kiss; does he not remember?" He thought, chewing on the edge of his thumb. If he doesn't remember, don't bring it up; you'll fuck up whatever this is between you two. The small voice scolded him. The male swallowed the lump in his throat, setting his phone down on the desk, and then turned his attention toward his computer once again. Oscar managed to get a few hours of work done before his stomach growled lowly. Pushing himself out of his chair, the older male walked into the kitchen. Grimacing slightly when he noticed that he was low on food and biting down on his lower lip, the male sighed, thinking to himself for a long moment. If he went to Nigel's bakery, there were pros and cons to the situation. The cons were that he'd have to tiptoe around the fact that they kissed. As well as pretend the feelings festering in his chest were just first-kiss jitters. Another big con was pretending that seeing the other male smile made the older male want to melt to the floor and keep up his grumpy personality.

The pros of going to Nigel's bakery were that he'd at least get food he knew he liked as well as get his fill. Which, in hindsight, seemed like a con, but at his point, why not throw his diet into the fire as well? Another pro is that he could tease the younger male more, as much as the critic wanted to ignore the feelings he loved messing with the other male. Closing the fridge, Oscar glanced down at his clothing and then winced slightly, quickly rushing back toward his room to change. Then he quickly scooped up his phone and wallet from his desk before swiftly rushing out the door. Ignoring the glares he earned as he gently pushed past people, as well as the cars blaring their horns at him, The older male barged through the door, his cheeks heating up slightly as the bell above the door swung aggressively. Nigel's eyes widened and then returned to size a few minutes later, as a wide smile formed on his face. "I didn't expect you back so quickly." He said.

Oscar cleared his throat, walking closer to the counter. "I don't have any food in my fridge, and you're the best place in town." He said.

Nigel threw back his head and laughed, walking toward the glass display case. "Well then, what can I get my favorite customer?" He quizzed, setting a pink box in front of him.

The older male blushed, following the other male. "Whatever you recommend." He muttered. The critic watched Nigel pack the box for a few minutes, picking at his nails nervously. Chewing his lower lip aggressively, "J-J- Just wondering, do you remember anything from last night?" He asked.

The younger male paused, staring at him for a long moment. The air around both of them seemed to heat up, causing Oscar to wipe his forehead nervously. Swallowing thickly, they were silent for a few more minutes before Nigel shook his head. "No, but I feel like I did something I wasn't supposed to do. Did I force you to do something, Oscar?" He asked, closing the pink lid.

Oscar fought the urge to wince: "You could never force me to do something, Nig; we didn't do anything too crazy anyway." He lay with a shrug of the shoulder.

The baker was visibly relaxed, smiling softly. "Good. I value our friendship too much to ruin it.

over something I can't remember." He stated this, holding out the box.

Oscar tried to ignore the sting in his chest, his eyes flicking down to his feet quickly. "We're friends?" He asked lowly.

The smaller male furrowed his brows in confusion. Cocking his head to the side, he let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, why do you want to be something else?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrow, and leaned against the display case.

The critic rolled his eyes, making a noise in the back of his throat. "Ugh, like I could handle you being anything else." He replied.

It was the baker's turn to roll his eyes, the smile on his face not faltering. "Don't lie, we'd make a perfect couple." He stated.

Oscar snorted, taking the box quickly. "In your dreams, baker." He muttered.

Nigel observed him for a moment as he placed his arms behind his back. "Then that's where I'll dream of you." He taunted, following the other male toward the door.

The older male's cheeks heated up once more as a warm feeling bubbled in Oscar's lower stomach. "Gag me with a spoon; could you be any more cheesy?" He grunted.

The smaller male laughed again. "I could, but then I wouldn't be able to see that awarding smile of yours." He replied, gently brushing up against the other.

The critic watched the younger male hold the door open. "You're crazy." The older male said it in between clenched teeth.

"For you!" Nigel called as the older male swiftly walked out the door.

"You're disgusting," Oscar called back, hiding his grin. 

Chapter Text

The critic's brain was buzzing as he slowly closed the door behind him. Once the door clicked, the male strode into the living room. Setting the bright pink box on the coffee table, his phone buzzed in his pocket as he scanned the dirty couch for the remote. After the third time, his phone vibrated in his pocket, the older male let out a small growl, pulling the device from his pocket and staring at the name on the screen for a few moments. His agent wanted to speak to him about returning home at the end of the week, bringing up the fact that he had at least a few months of vacation time he hadn't used. Oscar at the time rolled his eyes and huffed at them, claiming he didn't have time for trivial things like vacation. His work was his livelihood. But lately, Oscar couldn't help but want to scream at himself for refusing; the critic had a lot of guilty pleasures in life. Food was one of them, but anyone who looked at the male's figure could figure that out. His newest one was his obsession with a certain skinny baker whose eyes caused his insides to melt. Let alone his food, which caused Oscar to crave more, a small part of him begged the critic to regain control. This wasn't healthy, but a lot of stuff in the male's life wasn't healthy, and the thoughts were often pushed to the back of his mind to be forgotten about. Or to creep back into his thoughts whenever the older male found himself spiraling from the many emotions that flooded his brain. 

But Oscar had more important problems than organizing his feelings; he needed to figure out how he was going to handle Nigel. If the critic did decide to chase after this new obsession, then he'd have to tread carefully. He didn't want to come off as a stalker, even though, as of late, he swore the baker was egging him on to become one. His eyes flicked over toward the pink box, chewing his bottom lip as his stomach growled lowly. The male let out a frustrated noise, bringing his phone to his forehead and squeezing his eyes tightly closed. He had to decide before he chickened out; it happened too many times in his life, and he wanted to end that with Nigel. Swallowing thickly, Oscar tossed his phone to the side of him, pushing himself off the couch and into the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothing. Once finished, he slowly trudged out of the bedroom, glancing down at the gray sweatpants that were gently pinching into his plush hips. The older male's cheeks heated up slightly as he made his way back over toward the couch, scooping up the remote, and then began flicking through channels until he found a documentary he could turn his brain off to. Leaning forward slightly to grab the box from the coffee table, ignoring the fact that his stomach gently brushed against the edge of the table, The male set the box on the small curve of his stomach, flicking the lid open, and then slowly picked up the small slice of strawberry cake. He picked off the rather large berry from the top and quickly tossed it into his mouth, then shortly afterward took a large bite out of the dessert. 

The whipped cream frosting coated his tongue, causing Oscar to lean his head back and moan. It didn't take the male long to finish the first slice, as he lapped up the whipped cream from his fingers, quickly diving back into the box and pulling out a large chocolate brownie. The dark brownie was drizzled with a mixture of chocolate and caramel, with chocolate chips on top. Of course, Nigel would be a chocolate fanatic, knowing the baker only threw in the strawberry cake for variety. Burping into his fist, the older male took a bite of brownie, his stomach growling happily as he quickly scarfed another bite into his mouth. Groaning, the male glanced around, mentally scolding himself for not grabbing himself a drink beforehand and swallowing a large amount of chocolate. Shoving the rest of the treat into his mouth, Oscar set the box to the side, pushing himself up from the couch with a small grunt. Shuffling into the kitchen, he poured himself a large glass of milk and then guzzled half of it. After the critic finished the glass, he set the cup in the sink and then grabbed the carton, quickly walking back to the living room. Once settled, Oscar reached into the box, licking his lips excitedly, his eyes blown wide as he pulled another brownie from the box. 

Oscar burped into his fist once more, groaning slightly as he ran a hand over his bloated belly. Poking the small mound, he watched his finger slowly sink into the pudgy skin. The male shifted slightly, digging his fingers into the side of his stomach, and started messaging for a few minutes, his stomach growling and trumping in protest as his eyes flicked toward the half-eaten box. He wasn't full by any means, but his stomach was starting to get heavy in his lap, and the sweatpants that pinched into his hips were slowly being buried by his underbelly. Panting slightly, the older male pushed his sweatpants down to his hips, letting his bloated belly expand slightly as he reached for another dessert. His mind was too hazy to care about whatever was left inside the box. Pushing the uncomfortable dull pain radiating through his stomach to the back of his mind as he bit into whatever dessert was in his hands. Ten long minutes passed before Oscar was panting heavily, fingers coated in different frosting and chocolate, taunt stomach pressing against his black T-shirt that at some point rolled underneath his small moobs. Sweat slid down either side of his face as he glanced over toward the empty box, and then down to his tight pants. The cotton clothing was sticking to his thick thighs, his stomach pushing against the elastic, almost threatening to snap. Oscar lolled his head to the side, running his shaky hands down his overly bloated stomach and whimpering softly. "F-F-Fucking hell," he panted. 

The critic cradled his stomach, messaging his sides, then moved toward the middle of his stomach. Wincing slightly as he burped loudly, for a moment regret bubbled in the older male's chest. His shaky hands gently pushed his cotton pants down lower, letting his stomach slowly spill into his lap. As Oscar watched the large orb move, another emotion bubbled in his chest, and the male couldn't tell if it was pleasure or embarrassment. Either way, the new emotion caused Oscar's member to twitch, his small hands pinching and poking the sides of his bloated abdomen. The critic gulped down air, squeezing his eyes shut as he hiccuped harshly. His hazy eyes slowly opened, landing on the discarded device next to him, his lower lip twitching slightly as an idea popped into his head. Oscar knew it was a bad idea; on the list of bad ideas the male has had over the years, this one had everything beat. But half of him didn't care; he just wanted a reaction. He just wanted someone to acknowledge his actions. The critic gulped down air, pushing himself into a sitting position and groaning as his stomach pressed against his small moobs, pushing them up slightly. Grabbing the empty box and then snapping a picture, a second of hesitation sparked inside Oscar's mind. Before his nerves got the best of him, the older male quickly sent the picture and then tossed the empty case onto the ground, slowly sliding onto his side. I hope you are ready for whatever coincidences you get yourself into. A small voice whispered in the back of his mind. 

Coincidences were always second thoughts to the older male; there have been plenty of times that Oscar has done something in his career before thinking. Between making an honest review of a restaurant or pushing the little family he had left to the back of the line, His mom still called, but always never tried a second time. The older male didn't answer, the older woman left a message, and then that was it. The critic had a hard time taking what he wanted but was very good at taking things from others, so when the thought of Nigel came back to the man's mind, he was suddenly scared. It took Oscar a second to remember the picture he sent to the younger male. The critic's breath was suddenly caught in his throat as he scrambled to grab his phone. Wincing as his eyes landed on the small 'seen' in the corner of the picture, he ran a hand down his face and slammed back down onto the couch. Seconds passed before his phone chimed in his hand. Oscar chewed his bottom lip until he tasted copper. Slowly sitting back up, unlocking his phone, and staring at the message. His bright green eyes went owlish, and his shaky breathing became slowly more hysterical. 

Did you eat all of that? -10:00

Oscar shook his head, taking a few deep breaths as he set his phone on his chest. He replayed the message a few times in his mind as a shaky chuckle escaped his lips. Emeressment sparked in his cheeks, and the older male inhaled and exhaled slowly. The critic was silent for a long moment, thinking about what he should and shouldn't say, before his shaky hands started typing out a reply. Y-yeah, I guess I couldn't wait. It was so good, I couldn't stop. -10:05

Oscar could imagine the laugh coming from the smaller male as he shook his head. He hid in the backroom of his small bakery while his assistant helped the customers. It honestly made the critic feel like he was in high school again. I'm surprised a pig like yourself could hold back with all that food I gave you. -10:07

Something ignited inside the older male's chest and lower belly from the comment; Nigel was flirting with him. A smirk formed on his face as he quickly started typing back a response. Maybe next time you can come over and feed me yourself. -10:10

Minutes passed slowly, and Oscar found himself shaking his knee while chewing his lip raw. His mind was spinning still from the first message, and if he was honest with himself, the critic didn't expect the younger male to take the picture so well. Most people would have cursed him out or asked the older male what the hell was wrong with him. But Nigel lured Oscar into whatever song and dance they had effortlessly, and the older male was unsure why he was so entranced by the baker. Normally, whenever someone tried to hit on him, the critic would politely let them down gently, saying his job was too taxing to let someone new into his life at the moment. So how did Nigel slip through the cracks in Oscar and shake his core so badly? Shaking the thoughts to the back of his mind, he anxiously watched the three little dots bounce across the screen. 

Name a time and place, and I'll be happy to feed you a piglet. -10:15

Oscar's eyes flicked down at his stomach, swallowing thickly. The thought of more food caused his stomach to lurch. But at the same time, excitement buzzed in his lower belly, and his member twitched slightly at the thought of the younger male kneeling in front of him playing with his overly fed belly sending a wave of pleasure through Oscar. Licking the blood from his lip, the critic inhaled and exhaled slowly, glancing around his hotel room and wincing slightly. 

Tomorrow after work? - 10:18

See you then, Piggy! 10:20

The older male let out another laugh, bringing his phone to his forehead as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. A few seconds passed before the realization hit the older male, as he pushed himself off the couch and started cleaning.

Chapter Text

~Nigel's P.O.V~

Nigel checked his watch for the millionth time, mentally groaning as he quickly boxed an order for a customer. It was ten minutes past his normal closing time, and somehow there was a line out the door. On any other day, Nigel would be happy to assist customers, spending extra time to pick out desserts for their perfect day or party. But right now, all Nigel wanted to do was scream and kick everyone out. He had another date with Oscar, which was surprising since he really couldn't remember what happened during the first date. He knew something had happened from how uncomfortable the older male had gotten whenever he brought it up. The baker inhaled and exhaled loudly as he continued ringing up customers, passing the ticket toward his assistant. There were a handful of times he had to run to the back to restock boxes, which made him even more irritated. Nigel glanced at the line, chewing the inside of his cheek as he pulled out his phone.

He quickly scrolled through the nearby restaurants. The baker wanted to get something fancy for the critic, hoping to pique his interest and maybe make him stay for another day or two. But with how the line was moving, it would be faster if he just got something quick, making his stomach twist slightly. After spending a few more minutes scrolling through his phone, Nigel settled on pizza, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind. Once he was done ordering, he quickly pocketed his phone and focused on the line. He forced a plastic smile as he greeted the next customer and mindlessly nodded his head as they rattled off the different desserts they wanted. It felt like hours before Nigel handed over the last box. He let out a sigh of relief as he quickly untied his apron, tossed the dirty clothing onto the counter, and then rushed toward the front of the building to flip the open sign.

The young man hurried around the bakery, turning off the lights, before grabbing his jacket from the coat rack next to the door and quickly leaving the building. He checked his phone one last time and groaned—there were no messages or texts from Oscar, which made Nigel feel uneasy. As he weaved through the crowded sidewalk, his heart pounded heavily against his chest. After five long minutes, Nigel rushed into the pizza parlor, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the cashier to finish his order. Another three minutes passed before the cashier called his name, holding out three large boxes and two smaller boxes with drinks. Nigel quickly paid, nodded toward the other man, and dashed out of the parlor toward Oscar's hotel room. The younger male panted heavily, hand on knee, as he gulped down air, sweat dripping down either side of his face. After regaining his breathing, the male gently knocked on the door, taking a few steps back.

Shortly afterward, the hotel door slowly creaked open, and Nigel had to bite back a gasp as he stared at the chubby male in front of him. His eyes flicked down at the loose-fitted T-shirt, noticing the faint trace of the small paunch pushing against the waistband of his sweatpants. The older male slowly stepped aside, letting the other male in. Nigel disappeared into the living room, setting the boxes on the small coffee table. The critic slowly followed behind him silently: "Isn't that a lot for just the two of us?" He asked nervously.

Nigel pulled off his jacket, tossed it onto the chair across from them, and smirked, lowering himself onto the couch, and then finally flicked open one of the pizza boxes. "You asked me to feed you, so I am. I have to make sure you have enough to eat as well as leftovers whenever you want a snack," he replied with a smile. Oscar didn't say anything; he simply fiddled with his fingers for a few minutes. Before sighing and sitting down next to the smaller male. His eyes slowly scanned the line of boxes, watching the baker quickly push himself off the couch and disappear into the kitchen. Reappearing a few seconds later with plates and cups, she then sat back down next to Oscar.

"I don't know if I can eat all of this Nigel." The older male said:

Nigel placed a large slice of pizza on a plate and set it on the older man's lap before taking his slice. "That's okay; we can consider this a trial and make adjustments to your portions," he said, taking a bite of his pizza.

The critic watched Nigel eat for a long moment, then glanced down at the greasy food. Just let go. You'll be safe. The older male sighed, picked up the plate, and took a large bite. The sauce exploded in his mouth, causing him to moan. Oscar continued to scarf down his food, and by some miracle, his brain shut off as he quickly leaned forward, ignoring his slightly bloated belly pressing against his chest, to grab another slice. Next to him, a younger man smiled, set his plate down, and then started pouring soda into a glass for Oscar. He watched Oscar devour three slices before reaching out for the glass. It was during the fifth slice that the older male's breathing became heavy, panting slightly as he burped into his fist loudly. Chugging down another glass of soda, Nigel slowly pressed himself closer to the chubby male, running a cool hand down his stomach.

Oscar hummed, closing his eyes for a few minutes as he regained his breathing. The older male burped once more before grabbing a sixth slice. It took a few minutes before the older male started eating again, whining softly as Nigel started digging his fingers on either side of his belly and started messaging. The smaller male felt his member twitch as the critic picked up the last slice from the first box, groaning as he forced the food into his mouth and chewed slowly. His cheeks were already straining pink while his loose t-shirt started to hug his round stomach, lifting slightly and revealing a few inches of milky skin. "You did such a good job," Nigel whispered, leaning forward and trailing his lips across the curve of Oscar's stomach, earning a soft moan from the male.

The room was filled with the older male's panting for a few minutes. The chubby male lolled his head to the side to stare at the smaller male. "M-More," he gasped.

Arching an eyebrow, the baker glanced toward the remaining boxes, wincing mentally. "You sure? You look like you're going to pass out, Oscar." Nigel asked.

"Please," Oscar begged. "I want this, Nigel." He added it after a few minutes.

The younger male sighed. "Tap my leg if you want to stop." He instructed, earning a nod from the other.

Nigel quickly cleared the empty soda and pizza boxes from the coffee table, setting them on the floor next to the couch. Then he flipped open one of the smaller boxes, stealing one of the garlic knots before setting the box on the curve of Oscar's stomach. The older male licked his lips, shoveling four into his mouth, as garlic butter dripped down from the corner of his mouth, burping loudly as he leaned his head back and moaned. Cradling his stomach as the large globe rumbled with protest, Nigel chuckled, gently patting the critic's stomach and watching it wobble violently. The chubby male made a noise in the back of his throat, hooking his thumb underneath his belly and gently pushing his sweatpants down slightly. Moaning with relief, his stomach crept forward slightly, swallowing thickly as the elastic creaked slightly from the sudden weight. Nigel watched Oscar's belly rise and fall for a few minutes, chewing his bottom lip as the male traced a finger across the exposed flesh. "Getting full?" He asked.

The older male was silent for a moment, flashing a lopsided grin at him. "Nah, just making room." He answered.

The baker felt his heart jump to his throat, the corner of his lip twitching slightly. "You're such a fucking hog, Oscar," Nigel muttered.

A broad smile spread across the older man's face. "How do you think I got chubby in the first place? Pure coincidence?" He laughed, patting his stomach roughly.

A soft chuckle escaped Nigel's mouth. "I'm surprised a pig like you could hold back for so long. I can only imagine you sitting in a fancy restaurant whimpering because he didn't get enough food. Only to gorge himself when he got back to his hotel." Nigel taunted, reaching over and grabbing a handful of fat.

The younger male noticed the other's cheeks turning slightly pink. "I've only done that a few times," he muttered.

The baker grabbed another garlic knot, holding it in front of Oscar's mouth. "I knew you were a slut for food; all it takes is for some cute baker to wave food in front of your face to turn you into such a glutton." He teased.

The older man quickly devoured the food in the smaller male's hand, chewing rapidly, and then licked up the butter in the corner of his mouth. "Are you the baker?" He asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Nigel leaped forward, straddling across the older male's lap. Feeling his cheeks heat up slightly as the critic's round, bloated belly gently brushed against his flat stomach. "I can be whatever you want me to be, baby." He whispered.

They were silent for a long moment. Oscar's eyes slowly glanced down toward the half-eaten box on his stomach. "How about you feed me the rest of these for starters?" He suggested.

Nigel nodded his head slowly, picked up a small handful of garlic knots, and started feeding the other male. Minutes seemed to pass by as the older male inhaled the food. The smaller male could feel his stomach expanding slightly as his fingers scraped the bottom of the greasy box. Without saying a word, Oscar gently grabbed a hold of Nigel's wrist, licking the butter from his fingers before burping softly. The younger male bit down on his tongue as the member jumped, his cheeks turning scarlet while his heart pounded against his ribs. Once finished, Oscar let go, watched Nigel's hand fall back to his side, and then ran both hands down his bloated stomach, lifting his shirt in the process. The older male sprawled out slightly, letting his belly roll forward more, pushing Nigel back slightly, looping his fingers around the waistband of his tight pants, and pulling them down to his hips. The smaller male gulped loudly, cautiously leaning forward, and then began trailing his lips from the curve of the older male's stomach down to his lower belly, earning a gasp that melted into a moan shortly afterward.

Nigel bit down on his lower lip, listening to Oscar pant heavily. "God, you are so fucking hot. Stuffed to the gills and sprawled out like a prized pig." The smaller male complimented.

Oscar softly whined, his eyes closing briefly before opening again. "I'm going to have to get rid of this shirt," he groaned.

The baker made an offended sound, shaking his head. "But I love seeing your fat gut being squeezed by it," he whispered, capturing the other male's lips with his own. "I'm watching you become so fat that your clothing can't contain your greed," he continued.

The critic whimpered as they pulled away. In one swift motion, the older male wrapped his arms around Nigel, slamming him down onto the couch while the empty box clattered onto the ground. The smaller male's eyes went owlish as Oscar hovered above him, gently holding onto his wrist while panting. Belly was drooping down, inches away from Nigel's face. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered.

The younger man smiled, stealing another quick kiss from Oscar. "Forbidden fruit is usually the best kind," he replied softly.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Oscar registered when he woke up was something was on his chest. The male slowly opened his eyes, scanning his bedroom for a few minutes, groaning slightly. The critic stretched, noticing the mop of dark brown hair brushing up against his chin. The male's eyes widened as the world around him seemed to stop, his eyes slowly looked down, and the critic bit back a gasp as his body tensed. Nigel had his head buried into the man's chest, his thin arms wrapped around his stomach. Oscar stared at the sleeping form, fighting the urge to trace a finger along the other's forehead. Why are you so pretty? The thought made him pause for a moment as he continued staring at Nigel. The small amount of time that he spent with the baker was probably the best moment of the older male's life, and Oscar didn't want their time to end. His thoughts went back to his job; he loved his job. Between the traveling and the food, the male couldn't think of anything else that would make him happy. Except you maybe. Oscar thought, chewing the inside of his cheek.

The thought of quitting sent a mixture of fear and excitement through him; on the one hand, he had plenty of enough money to sustain himself into early retirement since Oscar very rarely spent money on anything else than a hotel or two when his job couldn't find him one in time. It would be easy for the both of them to fall into a domestic lifestyle; Nigel would keep his bakery, and Oscar would either find a job that kept him at home or just let his life's savings handle everything for him. On the other hand, though the thought of leaving the only job he had since he was a teenager scared him, he couldn't ask the baker to leave his job; the younger male's eyes sparkled too much to do that. He's going to have to leave Nigel here and go back home. Nigel made a noise in his sleep, snapping the male out of his train of thought. The younger male yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he glanced around the room. The baker let out a hum, his head falling back against Oscar's chest. "What time is it?" He asked groggily.

Oscar sat up slightly and then leaned forward slightly, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. Mentally cursing for the amount of missed calls he had from his agent, "It's still early," he replied. Nigel groaned, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes, before pushing himself off of the other male. Stretching then ran his hands through his messy hair, grabbed his clothing off the floor, and shot toward the bathroom. The older male stared at the closed door for a long minute, flopping back down onto his back, and then dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wanted this moment to last a little longer before he royally fucked up and let the best thing that ever happened to him walk out the door. The sound of the shower going caused him to push himself up, sliding out of the bed. Quickly pulling his clothing on, he slipped out of the bedroom into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Nigel emerged from the bedroom, slipping his arms around Oscar's middle as he entered the kitchen. "Smells great, babe, but I have to go." He whispered, gently pecking the other's cheek. The younger male slowly let go of him, and panic swelled in his chest as he spun around quickly, grabbing a hold of the baker's wrist. Nigel's green eyes cautiously fell to their hands, a small smirk forming on his face as he let out a small sigh. "You're lucky that you are cute." He muttered, wrapping his arms around the other's shoulders. They fell into a comfortable silence as Oscar cooked them breakfast; the younger male sat on the counter watching the older male and would pass him ingredients every so often. Once finished, the critic held up a plate and stole a quick kiss on the cheek while Nigel laughed, slipping off the counter. Oscar swallowed thickly, poking at his food for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip nervously until he tasted blood. The baker arched an eyebrow, chewing slowly as he stared at the other. "You okay, babe?" He asked after a few minutes.

"No," Oscar replied.

Nigel set his plate down next to him, cautiously sliding off of the counter. The male took a few steps backward, back bumping against the counter as he blocked the exit with his body. The baker inhaled and exhaled softly, gently grabbing a hold of the older male's chin and forcing Oscar to look up. "Talk to me, what's wrong?" He questioned.

The older male picked at his nails nervously for a few minutes then shook his hands and stuffed them into his pockets. "W-What are we doing, Nigel?" He stammered, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

The younger male narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to the side as his brows furrowed slightly. "Eating breakfast, did you hit your head last night?" He quizzed, with a small smile.

Oscar shook his head violently, letting out a frustrated sigh. The male ran a hand down his face, willing himself not to cry. "No, I mean with us. What are we doing?" He said, gesturing between them.

Nigel swallowed thickly, taking a few steps backward. The loss of the warmth in the other male's hands caused the older male to mentally whine. "Do you not want to be together?" He asked accusingly.

The critic's stomach ached and felt sick; this was not what he had wanted. He wanted an agreement rather than a conflict between them about this. To prevent himself from retaliating, Oscar bit his tongue. He spoke after a few minutes, allowing the tiny flicker of rage to pass through his chest. "Nigel, we can't fool ourselves—I want us to be together! I have to return home eventually; I can't quit my work." He argued.

The younger male snarled, throwing his arms up into the air. Nigel took a few more steps forward, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. His once bright green eyes were hardened, and Oscar could see the mixture of emotion in them. "So what? You want me to choose between you and my job!?" He shouted.

Oscar tried to inch closer, but Nigel made a noise in the back of his throat that caused the older male to pause. He glanced down at the floor, feeling the hot tears build more. He opened his mouth, but a choked sob escaped instead. "N-No, I would never ask you to choose. I know how much your bakery means to you." He sobbed.

The baker snorted, rolling his eyes. "It sure seems like it, Oscar," he replied.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Oscar chewed his bottom lip raw, and copper tasted like copper when he finally spoke again. "We can try long distances; I can fly every weekend." He suggested, holding out a hand.

Nigel pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between them. Causing the older male to gasp silently and take a few steps backward. "That's not a solution! That's a fucking bandage you want to slap on and come back to it another time." He exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air.

Oscar felt the fury rising again in his chest, and he wished he was fast enough so he could stop himself from talking, but his tears had finally welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, and his mind was too foggy to reason. "Then what do you want me to do!?" He snapped back.

"Choose!" Nigel responded.

Oscar's owlish eyes fixed on the other male, and the tension in the room increased. The older men's choked sobbing filled the kitchen, and Nigel's eyes grew angrier. The critic wanted to tell himself as he opened his mouth that he would pick the baker, but he had a terrible feeling that Oscar would be lying to Nigel and himself, and that wouldn't be fair to either of them. The elder man's shoulders trembled furiously as his head collapsed. "I-I-I can't." He muttered.

The younger male scoffed, shaking his head, "Typical, delete my number and never talk to me again, Oscar." He demanded, spinning on his heels and walking toward the door. Shortly afterward, the door slammed shut, and the older male flinched as he sank to the floor. Face buried into his knees as he sobbed loudly. 

Chapter Text

Oscar leaned his head against the chilly window of the aircraft, his heavy eyes fixed on the runway as his head pounded fiercely. He was pretty sure he was still intoxicated from last night, and his head was too foggy to think clearly. The Critic woke up on the couch, surrounded by various beer and food containers, but he couldn't recall what he did when Nigel left the hotel room last night. When he turned his phone back on to take a shower, he had hundreds of texts and missed calls from both his parents and his agency. He was hoping that the baker would have at least texted him or even called him but there was nothing. The older male's stomach was still bloated and pushing against his shirt's metal buttons, while his love handles were being pinched by the chair's armrests. Oscar had to fight the urge to call the other male all morning as he boarded the plane, watching as the assistants packed his suitcases and other belongings in the back of the plane. When the plane finally took off the anxiety and fear that settled in Oscar's stomach seemed to grow.

Oscar pulled out his laptop hoping that work would be able to distract him, which only worked for an hour before he slammed his laptop closed and asked the flight attendant for a soda and peanuts. The older male tossed the device into the chair next to him, running a hand through his wet hair. No matter how much work he wanted to get done he couldn't stop thinking about Nigel, and remembering the hurt on the younger male's face as he left the hotel. Oscar wanted to chase after him, begging the baker to listen to him and maybe come up with a solution for them. But he found his feet glued to the floor and different emotions bubbled in his chest. First was anger, he couldn't understand why Nigel couldn't see his side in this as well. He couldn't leave his job, he worked too hard for that, but he was also angry at the baker for making him choose as well. Oscar would never make the younger male choose between love and his store so why did he want Oscar to?

The next emotion that sparked in the chubby male's chest was happiness as the memories of their date came to mind. Oscar wasn't sure when it happened, maybe it was when they first met. Or maybe it was the first date they had and Nigel fed him, but the male had fallen for the younger male. And now the older male let the baker slip through his fingers and there was a very small chance of getting them back, of course, he had a choice. The older male could turn the plane around and rush to Nigel's little bakery begging him to take the chubby male back, telling the baker that he made a mistake and chose him. Oscar knew that option was still in his small deck of cards but that belonged in the unrealistic options. The older male also knew if his boss was sitting next to him that she'd smack him in the back of his head and call him an idiot. The male found himself smirking and chuckling lowly at that thought.

Finally was regret with a small mixture of sorrow. Oscar couldn't get the memory of the anger in Nigel's eyes or the way his hands shook as he shouted. There were so many things that the older male wanted to say to him, there were so many unsaid secrets that the chubbier male wanted to spill. Tears were forming in the corner of his eyes, blurring his vision slightly causing his headache to worsen. Oscar cursed under his breath, as his lip quivered slightly, the fight attendant snapped him out of his train of thought as she set his food and drink down on the plastic table. The chubbier male nodded his head toward her watching the woman disappear behind the curtain. Oscar shook Nigel to the back of his mind, eyes flicked back toward his laptop, reaching a shaky hand toward the device. Pushing his seat back as far as he could, Oscar laid the device on his lap turning on a movie to fall asleep to.

***

Oscar let out a loud exhale as he stepped into his modest flat, pushing his baggage aside and slamming the door shut. With his phone beeping in his pocket, he tossed his shoes and jacket onto the couch and made his way to the kitchen. After a few minutes of guzzling down a water bottle he had grabbed from the refrigerator, he threw the empty bottle into the sink pulling his phone from his pocket, and rolled his eyes as his bosse's name flashed across the screen. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, all the chubbier male wanted to do was order shitty take-out and fall asleep in front of the TV with a shitty movie or TV show in the background. Oscar unlocked his phone, staring at the name for a long moment before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. Pressing the green button, the male brought the device to his ear, "What?" He growled.

The woman on the other end chuckled lowly, "I thought you'd be more chipper to finally be home. Don't tell me you actually liked Paris." She teased lightly. Oscar knew she was trying to rile him up, his boss had a knack for getting on his nerves easily and he wasn't entirely sure how the two became best friends.

The chubbier male rolled his eyes, sighing softly. "Of course not, I just got home and I'm exhausted." He replied. Technically it wasn't a total lie, his back and legs were sore from the plane's seats, and all the older male wanted to do was eat something even though he wasn't hungry at all and sleep.

The woman hummed and then shuffled in her seat. "Huh uh, wanna tell me what's really going on with you?" She insisted.

Yes, I just can't tell you about him because we fought and over now. He mentally growled. The older male fought the urge to snap at her, as anger flashed in his chest once more. It wasn't fair to her or himself to let his emotions get the better of him. Swallowing thickly and pushed the thought to the back of his head. "No. If you're not going to tell me what you want I'm going hang up and go to sleep." He stated through clenched teeth.

His boss barked out a laugh, and Oscar could hear her rolling her eyes. "Alright grumpy, I just wanted to tell you that your article on the bakery was a hit. The company wants to send you out again and follow this bakery trend that is sweeping the world." She explained.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Oscar shuffled into the living room, plopping down onto the couch. Draping an arm over his face he let out a soft sigh. Half of him wanted to snap and tell the other off demanding for some time off. Hoping that eating his emotions would help him at some point. Oscar knew that would only bring up memories of that night Nigel fed him pizza to his bursting point, his eyes flicked down at the round dome sitting on his lap wincing. The other half of him knew it was stupid and the best way to forget about the younger male was to just dive back into his work. If he was focused on something else then the memories would die eventually, he would just have to steer clear of Paris for the rest of his life. "When and Where?" He asked.

Oscar heard papers shuffling around on the other line, as the woman muttered under her breath. After a few minutes his boss cleared her throat, "Looks like they want to send you to a small village in London. Nothing too fancy, so it should only take you a day or two." She explained.

The chubbier male tangled his fingers in his hair, pulling slightly trying to distract himself. While chewing on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He hated how Nigel had crept into his life and changed so much just for them to break up over a stupid fight. The older male felt like he was in high school all over again and that sent too many memories and emotions through him. "Send me the details on my phone or laptop, is there anything else you need?" He questioned.

His boss made a noise in the back of her throat, "Yeah, are you okay?" She quizzed.

Oscar scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he said.

It was his boss's turn to scoff, "You don't sound fine, though, Oscar; I have known you long enough to know when something is wrong. You can talk to me; you know that, right?" She asked.

The chubbier male smiled softly, nodding his head slowly. He really did know he could tell her anything, and it would be a secret. His boss was the only person Oscar told everything to; there were too many drunk nights where the older male could call her and spill whatever was in his brain to her. "Of course I know; I'm fine, promise." He whispered.

The woman hummed, waiting for him to continue speaking; when nothing came, she sighed. "If you're sure, I'll see you tomorrow." She said, before hanging up.

Oscar wasn't sure when he made it back to his room, slipping off his clothing and tossing it into the corner of the room. The chubbier male brushed his teeth, grabbing another glass of water before walking back into his bedroom. Sliding into his silken sheets, he brought his pillow to his chest, letting the coolness soak into his hot chest. The tears that formed in the corner of his eyes started spilling down his pale cheeks, creating dark spots on the pillow buried underneath his chin. The darkness that crept into the corner of his blurred vision seemed to grow as exhaustion washed over his body. Shortly afterward, sleep finally overtook him. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

~Nigel's P.O.V~

Three more days blurred by, and the younger male wasn't sure if it was intimidation from his co-worker or the guilt that gnawed at his stomach. Entering his apartment, Nigel's shoulders were coiled with tension, tossing his keys and wallet onto the small table next to him and then made his way toward the bedroom. Peeling off his work shirt and then plopped down onto the bed, burying his face into his pillow. He psyched himself up for the last two days to either call or text the older male, but every time he picked up his phone, the male found himself letting his nerves get the best of him or drinking. The baker knew it was self-destructive, but at the moment he didn't care; he just wanted the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach to go away. He wanted the thoughts of Oscar to go away, but half of him knew that ever since the older grump entered his life, everything seemed better. He was happier and found himself wanting to roll out of bed. Sighing, Nigel unburied his face, pulled his phone from his pocket, and scrolled until he found the older male's name. Chewing his bottom lip as his hands shook slightly.

Hey, I don't know if you got my message or not. But can we talk? - 12:11

Letting out a shaky sigh, the male leaned his phone against his forehead. Part of him knew that there was no point in trying; with how they ended things, Oscar would just become another hazy memory of Nigel's. A regret that would haunt him for the rest of his life, but a small voice in the back of his head planted a small seed of hope. As heated as their argument was, the younger male could see the pain that flashed across the critic's face; he couldn't ignore the small swell of tears that formed in the corner of his eyes as they continued. That small part of him wanted to be selfish and somehow convince the older male that they could just stay in Paris. Sheild Oscar from the rest of the world as he selfishly kept the man to himself. Nigel let his phone slide off his forehead, disappearing into the comforter and then draped an arm across his face. It felt like hours passed before the male exhaled loudly, propping himself up with his elbows, and then slid out of bed, walking toward the bathroom.

The tension that was in Nigel's shoulders seemed to dissipate after his shower. Wrapping a fluffy towel around his waist, the younger male used a smaller towel to dry his hair. Trudging back into the bedroom, the male sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes flicking toward the discarded device. Anxiety started bubbling in his chest once more as he stared at his phone for a long moment. Shaking the creeping thoughts to the back of his head, the male quickly slipped on a loose-fitting shirt and sweatpants before making his way toward the kitchen. The thought of food caused the baker's stomach to lurch slightly, but it also seemed to be the only thing grounding him at the moment.

He knew if he stopped and let his mind wander, then he'd end up crying; normally Nigel wouldn't neglect his emotions. But you've never been in love before either. The small voice in the back of his head supplied quickly. Nigel loosened the death grip he had on the pan, quickly finishing cooking and plating his food, scooping his phone up from the bed before plopping down onto the couch. The silence caused the younger male's heart to pound against his chest as his hands shook slightly. His eyes slowly shifted toward his phone, picked it up, and noticed he had a text.

Now you want to talk? I thought you wanted me to delete your number and forget about you. - 1:00

I was angry; I didn't mean it. -1:01

You sounded like you did... What do you want, Nigel? - 1:05

To talk... 1:06

We are talking; you're not saying anything. 1:10

Can we please meet somewhere? I need to see you face-to-face instead of on a screen. - 1:12

For a few seconds, Nigel observed the three little dots appear, and then they vanished. His blood rushed to his ears, muffled everything, and his heart thudded against his chest. The younger man put his phone down on his chest and returned his focus to his meal. The man had too many questions running through his head to concentrate. Once done, he pushed himself up from the couch, shuffling toward the kitchen once more, dumping his plate into the sink with a frustrated growl. Wincing slightly as the plate shattered against the cool metal, Nigel ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the counter as he blinked back the tears that started swelling in the corner of his eyes once more. A soft chime came from the living room, causing the younger male's heart to seize, scrambling into the living room, and lunging himself onto the couch, scooping his phone up in the process.

I have a trip coming up. I'm going to London for a week; maybe then Nigel. But I'm going to tell you the truth: I doubt this is going to go the way either of us want. - 1:30

That works for me! Where are you going in London? -1:31

Why do you care? - 1:33

Humor me, please, Oscar... -1:34

In some small villages, they want me to check out a few small cafes and write an article about the food. -1:37

Have fun! - 1:40

Everything around him seemed to slow down, while his heart beat heavily in his ears. The tears that were gathering finally spilled down his pale cheeks, biting down on his lower lip until copper engulfed his mouth. A million thoughts were rushing through his brain; without even thinking, Nigel closed the message and then opened an airline app to buy a ticket, and then rushed toward his bedroom to start packing. 

Chapter Text

~Nigel's P.O.V~

Nigel tapped his foot impatiently as he watched the scenery change underneath him, chewing the inside of his cheek. His plane ticket felt heavy in his pocket, and the food he forced down caused his stomach to flip. Pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket, he stared at the address he quickly jotted down before boarding the plane. Half of him knew this was a mistake. He should have just waited back at home for Oscar to call him, but the other half of him was screaming at him to try and find the grumpy male and try to talk this out face-to-face. If you asked Nigel, he always hated texting; the younger male hated not being able to read people's emotions through the screen. Deep down, the younger male knew this was a mistake; he should have waited for the other male to call him at home. But the anxiety that gnawed in Nigel's stomach screamed at him to track down the grumpy older male; he wanted this new relationship with Oscar to work.

He wanted to go back to whatever they had that night; the male's eyes shifted down to his phone. If you asked Nigel, he has always detested texting and hates not being able to sense people's feelings through the screen. Nigel inhaled and then exhaled loudly, leaning back in his seat as he closed his eyes; his mind was running a mile a minute while his hands shook against the seat's armrest. Too many scenarios were coursing through his head; was Oscar going to be pissed? Was he going to be shocked? Shaking the thoughts to the back of his head, Nigel slowly opened his eyes, watching the plane touch down onto the runway. It's now or never. The baker swiftly exited the plane, grabbed his luggage from the baggage claim, and then rushed out into the cool air that seemed to do nothing for his boiling skin.

After flagging down a taxi, Nigel provided the driver with the address and settled into his seat. Resisting the urge to bite his nails, he observed as the scenery transitioned from green fields to small cottages. The ride to the hotel was brief, and the taxi came to a stop beside the quaint wooden hotel, allowing Nigel to retrieve his luggage before departing. The younger male stared at the building for a long moment, forming a fist at his side before cautiously walking into the hotel. The front desk assistant glanced up from their paperwork, arching an eyebrow at the male before smiling. "Welcome to Newleaf Hotel, name please?" The woman beamed while turning her attention toward the computer.

The younger male swallowed the bile that formed in his mouth and said, "H-Hi, I was supposed to meet a friend here. His name is Oscar Newport; do you know what room he's in?" He quizzed.

The clerk paused, their lips pressing into a thin line, before turning their attention toward Nigel. "I am sorry unless you are on the client's list, I am not permitted to let you into their room for safety reasons. But you are more than welcome to wait in the lobby." She suggested.

Nigel sighed, nodding his head. "Thank you..." He trailed off, walking away from the desk, and slumped into one of the lobby chairs.

The younger man didn't realize he had fallen asleep until something touched his shoulder and jolted him awake. Nigel turned his head and relaxed when he saw Oscar standing next to him. The baker stared at the other man for a moment, his eyes slowly traveling down to the small beach ball pressing against his button-up shirt. He watched as Oscar spoke, furrowing his brows in confusion and shaking his head as he asked, "What?"

The critic chuckled softly, rolling his eyes. "I said, What are you doing here?" He countered.

Nigel felt his cheeks heat up slightly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and then stood up slowly. The younger male opened his mouth, then quickly closed it, eyes flicking toward the front desk clerk. "Can we talk in your room or something?" He questioned nervously. Oscar folded his arms over his chest and stared at the other male, his smile quickly changing to a frown. "All you have to do is hear me out, and if you're still mad at me at the end of my speech, Then I'll leave, and you'll never hear from me ever again." He explained.

The critic sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine, come on." He said, gesturing for Nigel to follow.

The younger male quickly grabbed his luggage and followed closely behind the chubbier male. Silently, they both climbed onto the elevator. Nigel found a corner in the elevator and stared at it, chewing the inside of his cheek. Oscar inhaled and exhaled softly, pressing himself as far away as he could from the smaller male. Once they made it to the critic's floor, the older male quickly walked out of the small box and rushed down the hallway while pulling his keycard from his pocket. Oscar pushed open the door with his foot, tossed his keys and wallet in the small bowl next to the door, and disappeared into the kitchen. Nigel cautiously entered the rather large room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Leaving his suitcase by the door, he then walked into the small living room, slowly sitting down on the couch. "Do you want a drink?" The older male questioned from the kitchen window. Shaking his head slowly, Nigel glanced down at his lap, picking at his nails. "Alright, answer me. What are you doing here, Nigel?" He asked, sitting down next to the smaller male.

The younger male formed two small fists on his lap, squeezing his eyes shut for a few minutes. "I was wrong to make you choose." Nigel started.

Oscar didn't say anything at first, nodding his head slowly. "Good start," he said.

The baker slowly opened his eyes, chewing his bottom lip while writhing his hands together. Shifting slightly, the smaller male turned toward the other male. "I care about you a lot, and I honestly don't want this to end. The night we spent together has been flooding my mind since you left, and I honestly can't think of anything else. I came here to prove to you that I am willing to try long distance if that's what you want; I'll do anything to prove to you that you're my everything." He confessed.

Oscar was silent; his eyes widened and then returned to normal size a few seconds later. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed softly. "Since you're here, and it's a long way back to France. Stay here with me for the week; I can think about what you said, and we can test this out some more." He replied.

Nigel smiled softly, "I'd like that." He responded. 

Chapter Text

~Oscar's P.O.V~

The next morning was quiet. Nigel cooked breakfast while Oscar got ready for the day. After packing his notebook and laptop into his bag and setting them by the door, the younger man slowly sat down at the table, setting their plates down. "Can I come with you?" the baker asked after a few minutes of silence as they ate. The baker slowly turned his head to face the other male, setting his plate down and fidgeting with his fingers for a moment. 

Oscar arched an eyebrow, swallowing the food in his mouth. "Where?" He quizzed. 

The nervousness disappeared from the smaller male. "To work! I want to see you in action!" He exclaimed. 

The older man returned his attention to his meal, shoveling the remaining food into his mouth. Nigel smirked as he passed his half-eaten plate, and the critic, after exchanging a curious glance, shrugged and started eating. "It's nothing special. All I do is eat whatever is popular on the menu and then write about it." He replied. 

Nigel leaned back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest, pouting slightly. "Please, Osc, if we're going to make this work, I want to know more about what you do and why it's so important to you." He whined. 

The critic snorted, rolling his eyes slightly. "Does that mean I get to see you in action?" He taunted playfully with a small smirk. 

The younger male blushed slightly, eyes shifting down to his hands, while he bit his bottom lip. "M-Maybe. I guess it all depends if this works out or not." He replied. 

The older male chuckled lowly, "Fine, I'll wash the dishes while you get ready." He said, picking up the plates and disappearing into the kitchen. 

Nigel quickly got up and rushed to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. By the time Oscar finished doing the dishes, the baker came out of the bedroom and walked towards the front door. The cool air outside helped ease the tension in Nigel's shoulders as they strolled down the cobblestone sidewalk. Nigel blushed as he glanced down at Oscar's hand and fought the urge to hold it. The older male paused at a small bakery; the window was decorated with different flowers and pastries, and the name was painted in calligraphy in the middle. As they entered the small shop, both men were greeted by the aroma of coffee and various pastries. 

Nigel went to find them a booth in the back, while Oscar walked towards the cash register. After ordering coffee and a Victorian sponge cake, the older man slid into the booth across from the younger man. The smaller male leaned against his arms, watching the other male for a moment. The critic furrowed his brows in confusion, swallowing the large bite of cake, before taking a long drink from his sugary drink. "You sure you don't want anything?" He asked. Nigel stared at the older man for a long moment before slipping out of the booth. He leaned forward, slipped a hand into the chubbier man's pocket, and then plucked his credit card out. Smirking, he spun on his heels and walked toward the cash register. "Brat," Oscar muttered with a smirk. 

The younger man returned to the table a few minutes later, carrying a tray with various pastries and drinks. Nigel watched as the older man finished his coffee and took a seat. The baker took a few sips from his tea, had a bite of his brownie, and exclaimed, "You have to try this, Oscar! It's so delicious." Leaning forward and shoved the brownie into the other's mouth. The older male glared at the other for a second, rolling his eyes, and then finished the smushed dessert in his mouth. The baker watched the chubbier male chew for a few minutes, a large smirk on his face as Oscar bit back a moan, forming a small fist on his lap. The mixture of chocolate and spice overwhelmed his mouth, while the fudge in the middle melted on his tongue, causing his body to tingle warmly. "Good right!?" He quizzed. 

Oscar inhaled and exhaled softly, finishing the food quickly. "Yeah, it's pretty good." He nodded. Before long, two desserts had become three, and then three became five. Oscar reclined back a little and moved his hands down to his swollen belly. Nigel snaked his hands under the table and started to rub the sphere that rested on the older man's lap. The other male burped into his fist as thin fingers pressed into sensitive flesh. Oscar leaned his head back and sobbed softly, "N-Nigel, we're in public." His eyes darted across the busy shop as he whispered. 

The smaller man laughed, his eyes flashing with mixed feelings. Oscar blushed as the younger male's fingers pressed a little bit harder into his velvety skin, causing him to whimper and squeeze his eyes closed. Nigel comforted her quietly, "Nobody is paying attention to us, love. You're alright." The baker moved his eyes to the other man's moobs as he slid out of the booth and into the space next to him. "God, you look beautiful like this Oscar; soon we're going to have to get you new clothes just to hide how big you're getting." Squeezing his breasts gently, he muttered. 

Oscar's breathing hitched as he panted softly, whining as the smaller male messaged his body. Cheek flustered pink while the older male bit his bottom lip. Nigel leaned forward, his hot breath brushing against his neck, while his cool hands traveled further down his belly. "How about we get out of here and try out some other places for lunch?' He suggested playfully, finger-tracing the tight metal button that dug into Oscar's lower belly. The older male felt his member twitch harshly as he whimpered lowly and nodded his head feverishly. Nigel was the first to slide out of the booth; shortly after, Oscar followed close behind, leaving a large tip on the table, and rushed after the smaller male out of the small shop. 

Chapter Text

Nigel kept one arm around Oscar as they walked, thin fingers gently gripping the thick, fat rolls. Face nuzzling into the critic's shoulder, inhaling his scent as he hummed softly. The baker led the dazed older male into another small cafe, plopping him down into a booth in the back of the restaurant before walking toward the counter. Oscar's hazed eyes flicked down to his bloated stomach, groaning softly as he gently pawed at the curve of his stomach. He was well past full, and it was only a matter of time before either his button-up shirt or pants would give way. But at some point, he was thinking with his stomach and dick rather than his brain during this reunion. The metal buttons of his black slacks were cutting into his lower belly, causing the older male to whine softly. While the buttons were gaping slightly, revealing small slivers of pale flesh that was littered with bright red stitch marks, crawling along his body.

Oscar shifted slightly, spreading this plump throat open so his belly could slide in between and sit against the cool booth. Half of the critic couldn't help but feel a chuckle bubbling in his chest as he traced a finger along the large orb on his lap. His clouded brain wanted him to do nothing more than demand Nigel take him home, just to see how much damage he had caused. The other half was so clouded with pleasure that Oscar's member was lodged against his lower stomach, sending small waves of a mixture of emotions through the critic. Nigel came back shortly afterward, and the older male sat up slightly, watching as the younger male's eyes widened slightly. As his belly surged forward, taking over half of his lap while getting caught on his tight button-up shirt.

Placing a hand on the side of his stomach, Oscar burped into his fist, groaning slightly as Nigel gently shoved the tray of sweets in front of him. "Halloween is coming up; are you doing anything?" The younger male asked, picking apart a blueberry muffin.

The critic cautiously picked up a muffin; the thought of more food caused his stomach to lurch slightly. Pain radiated through his sides, causing the pleasure that caused him to worsen. Pushing the pain to the back of his head, the older male shrugged, taking a large bite. "Probably working... or shopping for new clothing since you've made me outgrow everything. I don't normally take days off during the holidays." Oscar replied.

Nigel smirked, snaking a hand underneath the table, and gently brushed his fingers along Oscar's stomach. Causing the chubbier male to squeak softly, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. The younger male scooted closer to the table, grabbing a handful of fat, and started messaging it softly. The baker pulled down the tight waistband, letting the older male's stomach spill forward more, burying Nigel's hands. "God, your so fucking sexy, Osc; you must be three hundred at least. Maybe you should take the day off this year and come back home with me." He whispered with a playful smirk.

The older male bit down on his lower lip, biting back a moan. Heat coiled in the critic's abdomen, causing his member to leak against his flabby lower belly slightly. Part of Oscar knew this was probably a bad idea, but a small part of him wanted to see how far he could push himself or the younger male before they snapped from the sexual tension between the two of them. "Y-Yeah? What would you do to me?" He taunted.

The baker barked out a soft laugh, pinching one of the stitch marks that decorated Oscar's side. The older male jumped slightly, yelping quietly as the smirk on the younger male's face grew. "I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise for you, love." He replied.

Oscar glanced down at the half-eaten tray, cheeks flushed while panting. The younger male dug his fingers into the front of the older male's stomach, finding there wasn't very much give. Mentally wincing when the seams along Oscar's thighs popped open. Time seemed to slow down as Oscar's slacks popped a few more times, letting the fat spill through the large holes. Nigel's breathing caught in his throat, shaky fingers hovering above the large holes along his fat thighs. The critic burped loudly, leaning his head back against the booth, and moaned lowly, "T-T-Too Tight..." He whimpered, pawing the large belly sitting on his lap.

The metal button from Oscar's slacks tore from the tight fabric, bouncing against the table's metal pole. The older male squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as the bottom shirt button tore scattering against the flooring, panting heavily. Nigel's eyes watched the other male, noticing the large wet patch on the front of his boxers. "God, Oscar, if I knew how fucking hot you'd look panting and full of food, I would have apologized sooner." He grinned, quickly slipping into the seat next to the other male.

Whimpering, Oscar ran his hand along the curve of his stomach, fighting the urge to buck his hips from the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through him. "N-N-Nigel, please; I can't eat anymore." He whispered, hazy eyes scanning the half-empty cafe.

The younger male simply smirked, placing a hand underneath the older male's stomach, lifting it slightly, and then releasing it. The large pale orb bounced heavily against Oscar's lap, causing his small moobs to knock against the curve of his stomach as well. A jolt of pleasure shot through the older male as he came against his underbelly. The critic ran his hands down his bouncing belly, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, and Nigel had to bite down on his knuckle to keep himself quiet. Blood dripped down his white knuckles as the younger male leaped forward, shaky hands grabbing either side of Oscar's bloated stomach, raising it slightly, and then releasing it, watching it wobble aggressively. "N-N-Nigel, stop p-please." The older male panted heavily, whimpering as he came a second time against his bloated abdomen.

Nigel scooted closer, gently nipping at the older male's lip before kissing his neck. "Oh, what a gluttonous slut you are, Osc, getting off with your avaricious attitude. What if I brought you back to the hotel to see if you could endure a third round?" He suggested.

Oscar whimpered, curling his toes tightly while digging his nails into the meat of his stomach. "P-P-Please...Hurts." He begged.

The older male wasn't sure when or how they got back to the hotel. Nigel's hot breath sent chills through the critic's body as he was pushed down onto the bed. The younger male above him slipped off his shirt and then cautiously slipped off Oscar's torn clothing, tossing it to the side of the room. The older male's member sprang up, leaking still, "Such a greedy piggy you are; you can't even stop yourself from getting excited at the thought of me giving you attention." The younger male hummed softly. The critic whimpered loudly, leaning his head back against the pillows while rolling his plump hips slightly. Nigel straddled the other male's lap, fingers brushing against his cock, causing the other to moan.

Biting down on his lip until Cooper coated his tongue, Oscar whined. "N-N-Nig, I can't..." He panted. The younger male chuckled lowly, leaning forward, and captured the other male's lips with his own.

They kissed for a few moments before Nigel slid down and quickly thrust into Oscar. Howling loudly, the older male threw his head back, tangling his fingers in the sheets as the smaller male continued thrusting into him. Panting and moaning bounced off the thin walls; tears slipped down Oscar's pale cheeks; the air in his lungs seemed to be sapped out while large black dots danced across his vision. The baker released inside the critic minutes later, slumping against his shoulder as Nigel panted heavily. "Y-Y-You okay now?" He wheezed.

The older male wrapped an arm around the smaller male. "S-S-Stomach still is bloated and tight, but I never thought I would come that many times just from being full." Oscar chuckled, swallowing thickly.

Nigel hummed, groping a handful of fat. "You were so fucking hot; you might have to make sure you're full all the time now." He mused.

Oscar barked out a laugh, pecking the male on the side of the head. "You just want me compliant and dazed on pleasure so you can come home and jump my bones." He replied.

The younger male watched the chubbier male shuffle toward the edge of the bed. Pushing himself onto his feet and stretched. "I wouldn't mind coming home to see you in an apartment that can't contain your fat." The baker commented, slapping the other male's pillowy ass.

The critic felt his cheek heat up slightly as his ass cheek bounced slightly. Rolling his eyes and then snorting softly. "Pervert." He teased playfully.

Nigel rolled onto his hands and knees, then crawled across the bed. Wrapping his slender arms around Oscar's shoulders, peppering his cheeks with kisses. "Only for you, Porkie." He whispered.

The older male slowly turned so he was facing the slender male. Arching an eyebrow, "Porkie?" He parroted back.

The baker smirked once more, wrapping his legs around the fatter male's waist as Oscar held him tightly. "Yeah, I gotta think of some kind of nickname for you." He beamed.

Snorting once more, "So a cartoon pig is the best you got?" Oscar quizzed.

The younger male smiled widely, "I could continue calling you a gluttonous slut." He taunted.

The older male hummed, "Now you're teasing again." He warned, kissing the other passionately.

Nigel slid out of Oscar's hold, sauntering toward the bathroom, and then leaned against the door frame. "After we shower, I want you to weigh yourself. You have me all riled up again just thinking about it." He said while the fatter male followed close behind.

Oscar smiled, shuffling into the bathroom after the smaller male. "Want to admire your creation, huh?" He asked, arching his eyebrow once more.

The younger male turned on the shower, eyes scanning the fatter male before he slipped into the shower. "Of course, you're going to be my greatest creation that I get to keep all to myself." He replied.

The critic pulled the scale from underneath the bathroom sink. Staring at the metal square for a moment while chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Who knew you'd be a kinky greedy perverted baker?" He chuckled.

The baker let the warm water roll off his back. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, babe." He responded. Oscar became quiet and shifted his gaze back to the scale before him. He took slow, deep breaths as he stepped gingerly on, mentally flinching at the little creak in the metal. After a few minutes of watching the red lights blaze across the screen, the scale beeped softly. The older man froze, swallowing thickly as he put his hand against his swollen gut to see the number. 310. A chuckle escaped his mouth as Oscar stepped off the scale, watching his belly slowly expand once more. Nigel poked his head from behind the curtain, staring at Oscar for a long moment, the smile on his face faltering slightly. "Are you okay? Look, we don't need to continue Oscar. I'll even help you lose the weight." He said, voice laced with panic.

The critic laughed, shaking his head. "And take the best three orgasms I've ever had away from me? Nah. The number just shocked me, is all." He replied, stepping into the shower.

Nigel relaxed slightly. "Oh, I thought you were upset again." He trailed off.

The older male lathered soap onto his hands and then started washing the smaller male's hair. "Nah, I think we both know that we'd never be able to stop thinking about this day." He whispered.

The baker rinsed out his hair, following suit with the chubbier male. "I'll probably be dreaming of it for weeks." He grinned.

"Only weeks?" Oscar quizzed.

Rinsing out the other male's hair quickly, "I don't want to jump the gun too hard, you know. You still have some clothing in your suitcase we can ruin." He said it playfully.

The older male wrapped his arms around the smaller male. Nuzzling his chin into the other's shoulder. "310." He whispered.

Nigel's eyes bulged out of his head. "Holy fuck Oscar." He panted.

"How about that round four?" The older male hummed, running his hands down the other's body.

Nigel bit down on his lower lip, growling softly. "You're on, slut." He said he was spinning on his heels and then pinned the other male against the bathroom wall. 

Chapter Text

~Oscar's P.O.V~

The next morning passed by a little faster for the critic. The older man woke up first again. He smirked at the sleeping figure next to him and quickly gave a small kiss on the forehead before heading to the bathroom. After his shower, the heavier man started making breakfast. Nigel set a plate aside for Oscar and then slipped into the small office, placing his breakfast beside him while booting up his computer. After a couple of hours, the older man was halfway done with his article when a pair of slender arms wrapped around his husky shoulders. "Good morning," Nigel whispered in the other man's ear, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Oscar leaned his head back against the smaller male's chest, smirking. "Morning, I made you breakfast. It should be on the counter; how did you sleep?" The older male questioned.

The older male sat back up, turning his attention back down toward his laptop. Nigel smirked, resting his chin on the crown of the other male's head. "Good...Until you left me." He replied. 

The critic rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand against the smaller male's arm. "Well, I wanted to try and get some work done before I took you out on our date, but you decided to wake up earlier than I thought." He responded. 

Nigel perked up slightly, eyes round with excitement as a soft squeal escaped his mouth. "Where are we going?" He quizzed while gently shaking Oscar's arm with excitement. 

Oscar snorted, dripping an arm over the back of his chair. "I'm not going to tell you that, ya doof, that'll ruin the surprise." He said. 

The smaller male folded his arms over his chest, pouting. "Why not? Does it revolve around me stuffing you again in public, because I loved watching you  squirm?" Nigel quizzed, seductively gently tracing a finger along the curve of Oscar's stomach.

The older man swallowed hard and gently swatted Nigel's hand away. "No, it does not. I'll be treating you tonight. Now go get dressed and let me finish this article," Oscar said, waiting for Nigel to whine softly before disappearing into the bedroom once again to release the breath he'd been holding. Leaning back in his chair, Oscar ran a hand through his hair shaking the thoughts that were starting to creep into his head to the back of his head. It should have been easy to finish his work, but somehow the younger male had wormed himself into Oscar's head, and now all he could think about was the smaller male's hands pressed against his overly stuffed belly, whispering in his ear while his hands messaged him. Heat coiled in the critic's body while he chewed the inside of his cheek until copper engulfed the inside of his mouth. Swallowing thickly, Oscar found himself able to type a couple more sentences before the heat in his lower belly became too much. Snapping the laptop closed and pushed himself out of the chair, making his way toward the bedroom. 

Gently knocking on the door before pushing it open slowly, Oscar watched Nigel for a moment. The younger man was wearing ripped black jeans that hugged his thighs just the right way, along with a band T-shirt that the critic had never heard of. Oscar made a mental note to ask the baker about it later. Nigel also had a black and red flannel tied around his waist, and he had his back turned to Oscar, focused on the mirror in front of him as he placed his black earrings in. Smirking, Oscar pushed himself off the doorframe, cautiously walking up behind Nigel and wrapping his arm around his waist. "You look hot," he whispered, peppering Nigel's neck with kisses. The baker blushed, nuzzling his head into the critic's neck, and purred softly. Grabbing his wallet from the nightstand, Oscar followed the smaller male toward the door, grabbing their keycard from the bowl next to the door, and locking the door behind them as they exited the apartment. Oscar glanced down at Nigel's hand, taking it into his, and then kissed the smaller male's knuckles before starting to walk down the sidewalk. 

They walked for ten minutes before Oscar led them to a small diner, opening the door for Nigel. The waiter showed them to their booth and then set down menus, followed by small glasses of water. Sipping his drink, the baker waited for the woman to leave before leaning against his table. "What brought this on?" he asked.

The critic took a long sip of water. "You've taken me to all these bakeries and cafes. I wanted to show you some real food for once, as well as a glimpse into my world," he replied.

The baker chuckled softly, "I thought you only dined at fancy restaurants and ate rabbit food." The smaller man teased playfully.

Oscar threw his head back and let out a laugh. "Most of the time, but there are moments when my agent sends me to places like this, and I'll admit, they're my favorite articles to write. I don't feel obligated to write a good review because there's a chance they'll sue if they're unhappy with the article and ruin my reputation," the older man admitted. Nigel stared at the table for a moment, then opened his mouth, but was cut off by the waiter returning to the table with a notepad in hand. After taking their order, the waiter took both menus, quickly grabbed their drinks, and returned to the table before being called away to another one. "Tell me about home. Do you have anything like this?" The critic asked as he sipped his soda.

The young man was quiet, chewing his bottom lip as he thought to himself. "We do have some places, but mostly small family-owned cafes or restaurants. I don't travel very often because I have to take care of the bakery," Nigel answered.

The older male smiled softly, placing a hand on the other male's hand. "Well, you don't have to do that anymore, Nigel. All you have to ask, and I'll take you anywhere." The chubby male stated. Nigel's cheeks flushed pink as he ducked his head and pulled his hand out from the older male's grip when the waiter returned. The chubby male nodded his head and thanked the woman, who smiled and slipped back toward the kitchen. They ate silently, making small talk every so often. Oscar was the first to finish, sipping on his soda while watching the smaller male eat slowly. The baker ate half of his food before smirking, the same lust and something slightly darker sparking in his eyes again. He then slid the plate across the table, leaned toward Nigel, and rested his hands underneath his chin with a large cat-like grin on his face. The critic glanced down at the plate and then back up at the smaller male. "I told you that I'd treat you tonight." He said. 

The smile on the smaller male's face seemed to grow. "You are; it's a treat watching you eat. So treat me, kitten, and eat," the baker countered. Oscar's cheeks flushed for a moment as his eyes shifted back down toward the plate. Inhaling and exhaling softly before he started eating. "That's a good boy." Nigel praised lowly. By the time Oscar finished the food on Nigel's plate, he still wasn't full. His stomach growled softly at the thought of more food. Nigel leaned forward and quickly kissed Oscar, causing the critic to squeak softly. "How about we head home for round four?" the baker suggested with a sly smile. 

***

Oscar gasped loudly, arching his back as hot blood spilled down his shoulder and disappeared somewhere behind his back. He knew the sheets would need to be changed, and half of him felt bad for whoever rented the apartment after them. But the other part of the critic was swimming; his head was hazy with pleasure and pain; he wasn't sure what had gotten into the smaller male, but he wasn't going to complain. If he had to be honest, he hated how the baker was gentle with everything he handled. Oscar craved the pain, and he'd make another mental note to bring it up to the smaller male whenever he was coherent enough to speak again. The older male opened his mouth, but only a wheeze escaped his mouth; thick fingers dug deep into the baker's skin. Another part of Oscar hoped that the male would also be marked up, so whoever asked where Nigel got the mark, he'd flush and come up with some excuse. Except Oscar would know, and that sent another hot flash of pleasure through him. 

Nigel slammed into him; the bite mark on his shoulder was turning darker while the smaller male tangled his fingers through the older male's hair. The younger male was talking above him, but the older male couldn't make out anything he was saying with the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. Nigel slammed into Oscar a couple of times before releasing, while the other male came on his chest. The baker slumped next to the other male, finger-tracing the bloody bite mark, and winced. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me." He whispered. 

The older man snorted and rolled his eyes, then quickly grabbed the smaller man's wrist and pulled him onto his chest. "It'll heal, plus it was kind of a turn-on," he replied, wrapping his arms around Nigel while the baker buried his face into his chest. "Nice chance of pace after everything." He admitted. 

Nigel hummed, going quiet for what felt like hours until he raised his head, and then he kissed Oscar before slipping out of his grip and padding toward the bathroom. He returned with a medical kit in hand and said, "Let me see." 

"You gonna patch me up, Doctor?" He joked while the smaller male climbed back into bed. Nigel shot a glance at the other male, causing the critic to snicker. The chubbier male rolled his eyes but complied silently, sitting up and smirking while the younger male poured some alcohol onto a cotton ball and started dabbing the wound. 

Nigel inspected the bite mark, inhaling and exhaling softly. "Doesn't look too deep; only broke the skin. Probably heal in a week or two." The baker informed him. After a few minutes of silence, the baker tossed the bloody cotton ball onto the nightstand and then pulled out a bandage. He tore the package with his teeth before gently setting it on the bite wound. 

The fatter male glanced down at his shoulder, the smile on his face growing slightly. "Baker and a doctor, is there anything you can't do?" He quizzed. 

Humming loudly, Nigel rubbed his chin for a moment. "I can't cook real food," the younger man replied.

The larger man flinched but still maintained a grin on his face. "Ouch, sorry, that's a deal breaker," Oscar said in a playful tone.

Nigel shot a glare at the other, hitting the critic's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Jerk." He muttered. 

In one swift motion, Oscar grabbed Nigel's wrist once more, pulling him on top of his chest as he laid back down. "You love me," he grinned, kissing the smaller male's cheek. Chuckling loudly while the baker's cheeks turned bright red, "So listen, I took a week off for Halloween. I was thinking we could do what you suggested and maybe work through all that tight clothing in my suitcase while you show me how you celebrate Halloween in France," Oscar said.

The smaller male's eyes widened as a spark of excitement flashed through them. His head quickly perked up and then shifted down to the older male's round belly. He put his hands on either side of the round belly and squished it together while nuzzling his cheek along the warm skin like a cat. "You're going to be the cutest stuffed pumpkin, babe," he beamed.

Oscar furrowed his brows with confusion, cocking his head to the side. "Aren't you supposed to carve them?" He quizzed. 

Nigel threw back his head and laughed, lips trailing down the older male's chest toward his lower belly. "Not when you're dating me, baby." He replied. 

Chapter Text

~Nigel's P.O.V~

Nigel placed his hands on his hips with pride as he surveyed the living room slowly, a smile spreading across his face. The smaller man placed the little pile of films on the coffee table and nodded. Nigel swiftly took the bowls from the kitchen countertop and placed them next to the DVDs after the baker checked the clock for what seemed like the millionth time. He still had a few hours until Oscar returned from his interview. The younger man went into the bedroom, gathered the covers from the bed, and went back into the living room. After pushing the L-shaped couch onto its side, the blankets were ultimately draped along the couch to create a little fort. Inhaling and exhaling softly, the younger male pulled his phone out of his pocket and ordered pizza for the both of them, even though Nigel knew at some point he would be feeding the older male the food instead. He had a few goals for tonight, one he was going to show the critic an amazing night, and why Halloween was one of his favorite holidays. The second was to see how many shirts he could get through in Oscar's wardrobe until he was forced to buy new ones.

Ten minutes slowly passed before a knock on the door, startling Nigel out of the game he was playing. Quickly pushing himself from the couch, the smaller male rushed toward the door and pulled it open. "You having a Halloween party or something, mister?" The delivery man quizzed, holding the large stack out, followed by two plastic bags.

Another smirk formed on the younger male's face, nodding. "Something like that, thank you," Nigel replied, paying quickly with a hefty tip, and closed the door with his foot. Walking into the living room and setting the boxes down, as well as the drinks. Flicking open the lid, Nigel grabbed plates and cups, rubbing his hands together. "Perfect." He whispered when the sound of jiggling keys caught his attention.

Oscar tossed his keys into the small bowl, slipped off his shoes, and then padded further into the room. Eyes scanning the living room slowly, before he turned toward Nigel with a smirk. "What's this?" He quizzed.

Nigel rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks darkening slightly. "I promised you that I'd show you how we celebrate. Sorry it's too much, but I wanted to go all out this year since it's our first Halloween together." He explained, picking his nails nervously.

The older male took a few steps forward, wrapping his beefy arms around the smaller male. "It looks amazing, babe; I would be more shocked if your idea didn't revolve around food." He commented with a chuckle. "Why don't you start the movie while I go shower?" Oscar suggested lowly, stealing a quick kiss before disappearing into the bedroom. Nigel hurried over to the coffee table and placed four pizza slices on the older man's plate and a couple on his own. After that, the younger male filled their cups with Pepsi, shuffled through the little stack, and took Halloween Town out. Oscar joined him shortly after, his hair still dripping wet, and they nestled up inside the fort after putting the movie into the DVD player. Halfway through the movie, Nigel scooted forward, placing the first empty box onto the floor, and then flipped open the second pizza box, putting a few more slices on Oscar's plate, then handed it back. Oscar paused for a moment, shifting slightly before he started eating once more. Nigel cuddled closer toward the older male, wrapping an arm around the critic's stomach and squeezing his love handles slightly before turning his attention back toward the movie.

It was around when Oscar got halfway through the third box; he leaned his head back against the pillow, pawing at his bloated stomach while the younger male switched movies. The waistband of his sweats was starting to dig into his lower belly while the buttons of his flannel shirt spread apart enough to show the white undershirt the older male was wearing. The critic's brain was buzzing with ecstasy as he stared down at the half-empty box. The older male knew he was getting full; if he was lucky, he'd be able to get through the rest of the pizza before having to call it quits. But the look on his boyfriend's face sent a mixture of emotions through Oscar. The larger male watched Nigel plop back down beside him, leaning his head against the critic's shoulder. The smaller male's hands wandered toward the middle of the other's stomach, gently squeezing and messaging the bloated flesh, earning a soft purr from the older male. The baker smirked slightly, continuing messaging while the older male polished off the rest of the pizza on his plate.

Without saying a word, the smaller male leaned forward, snatching the box from the table in front of them, then slowly straddled Oscar's lap. The older male burped into his fist and then glanced down at the slice, leaning forward slightly to take a large bite from it, before leaning back and chewing slowly. Nigel gently lifted the older male's over-bloated belly, letting go, and watched it wobble aggressively. Gently traced his finger on the straining plastic button, while the younger male continued feeding him. "God, Osc, you look so hot like this. Bloated and bearly able to move, letting me feed you like the glutton you are." The baker taunted lightly. In answer, the elder male only groaned and opened his mouth to take another bite of food. Nigel took the last piece of the box, held it up, and gave the other male a gentle slap on the side of the belly. The younger male smirked again, gently curling a finger around the waistband of the sweats and pulling back while the older male whined softly and panted, his cheeks crimson with exhaustion. Oscar's yelp when the soft fabric snaps into his stomach. "Getting a little tight tubby?" Nigel quizzed.

Oscar whimpered again, pawing at his sore stomach while the button made a low creaking sound. Nigel tapped the plastic several times while glancing down at the large opening. Leaving the empty box aside, he scurried from the older man's lap and vanished from the fort. The critic attempted to move, but his stomach lurched a little. Placing his hands on either side of the big globe, the larger male pawed at his stomach, burping loudly before groaning. Oscar's stomach grumbled at the prospect of more food when the baker came back a few minutes later with a plate of pizza and a cup of soda. For ten minutes, the younger man opened his mouth a little and gave him a few slices of pizza before giving him a sip of cola. The waistband kept digging deeper into the man's hips and lower abdomen.

SNAP

There was a ripping sound shortly after. With a quick glance down, both of them saw two of the small plastic buttons rip away from the taut cloth and vanish into the stack of blankets. Red, irate marks covered the critic's navel where the buttons dug in, and Oscar's stomach pushed forward, bouncing a little as the pale flesh encompassed the older man's lap. The bigger man let out a loud moan and threw his head back as the sweat's waistband appeared to relax around his love handles and slide down his soft hips a little. While the younger man trailed his thin fingers along the stretch marks that decorated the other's sides, Oscar uttered another anguished sound in the back of his throat with his hand buried beneath his belly. "Looks like shirts aren't the only thing we'll need to stock up on; your such a fucking glutton you broke the elastic in your sweatpants." Nigel chuckled, running both of his hands down Oscar's taunt abdomen. The critic felt his member twitch violently as his cheeks darkened with a mixture of embarrassment and lust.

They fell into a comfortable silence. TV playing in the background while the younger male continued messaging the larger male's stomach. Whispering encouraging words every few minutes, the critic would answer with a hum head lolling to the side as sleep started overwhelming him. Nigel crawled off of the older male's lap, quickly changing the movie, and grabbed a snack for himself before snuggling up next to the critic once more. Eating for ten minutes before setting the empty plate to the side, a grin formed on his face while running a finger down the older male's cheek. "Are you too tired for a quickie?" The baker asked mischievously. Oscar rolled his eyes a little and grunted, forcing himself to settle more comfortably. As he observed the older man's thighs pressing together and his stomach curve pressing against his moobs, the baker's eyes appeared to expand in his head. Without a word, the smaller male slid down the other male's lap, pulling Oscar's sweats down and watching as the older male's member sprang up.

The baker's eyes flicked up at the older male, and he could see the lust that clouded the smaller male's eyes as he slowly lapped his tongue down the side of the critic's member. Oscar yelled, jumping slightly as he bit down on his lip, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes and whimpering loudly. Nigel lapped his tongue a few more times before quickly wrapping his mouth around the older male's cock and then started sucking hard. The critic gasped, tangling his fingers in the smaller male's hair, pulling slightly as he moaned loudly. The baker gently raked his hands down the other male's thigh, making a noise in the back of his throat while continuing to suck. Oscar cursed under his breath, panting heavily, and tugged slightly harder on the younger male's hair. "F-F-Fuck Nigel!" Oscar sobbed. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, while everything around him turned muffled. Oscar's brain was high with pure adrenaline and pleasure. The critic opened his mouth, but only air came out as the hot tears streamed down his face, hands shaking.

It felt like hours passed until the larger male cried out once more, coming inside the smaller male's mouth harshly. Nigel pushed himself into a sitting position after swallowing, wiping the droll off with the back of his hand. "Are you okay?" He quizzed, arching his eyebrow while cocking his head to the side. The older male leaned his head back against the pillows, holding up a shaky thumb and panting heavily. The smaller male chuckled, softly patting the male's thigh before shooting out of the fort, returning a few seconds later with a half-empty two-liter. Oscar snatched it from the baker's hands, chugging it for a few minutes before sighing and burping into his fist loudly. "So good Halloween?" Nigel asked, inching closer to the male.

Oscar let out a breathless laugh, wrapping an arm around the smaller male and pulling him closer. "Yeah, it was great, babe. I can't wait for you to show me Christmas." He grinned.

Nigel threw his head back, barking out a laugh. "I'll make you the Christmas turkey babe." He replied.

The older male buried his nose in the baker's hair. "Not if I already am the size of one with how you're feeding me your perv." He said.

The living room was filled with whatever movie the younger male put on and the soft breathing from the pair. A few minutes passed before the younger male's phone buzzed from the coffee table, peeling himself from Oscar once more. The older male could hear talking softly, followed by yelling from outside the fort. Cocking his head to the side, the male groaned, managing to crawl out from the small blanket fort and watching Nigel throw his phone against the wall. The older male studied the other for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. He waited for a few more moments of silence before speaking. "Hey, are you okay? Did I do something wrong again?" Oscar asked, gently grabbing both of Nigel's arms.

The younger male shook his head, quickly wiping something from his eyes. "That was my co-manager... They said that a broker of some kind appeared at the shop today, and when they asked who he was, all the man did was hand them papers and leave without a word." Nigel explained, shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his pale face.

The feeling of dread overwhelmed the older male; his stomach cramped up harshly while Oscar's hands shook. "What did they say?" He whispered.

Nigel glanced up, eyes glassy with tears. "They're taking my bakery." He sobbed.

Chapter Text

~Oscar's P.O.V~

Oscar stared at Nigel for a long moment, his mouth agape and eyes wide as saucers. The smaller male was shaking violently, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, while small hiccups escaped from his lips. Thin fingers tangled in his sweat-slicked hair, and the older male took a few steps forward with his hands extended outward. However, the smaller male shook his head and stepped backward, his legs stretching beneath him. Oscar rushed forward, wrapping his chubby arms around the other male and pulling him into his chest as they fell to the ground with a small thump. "You're okay... I've got you, Nig," the critic whispered, gently stroking the other's hair to soothe him. They sat on the floor for what felt like hours, as Nigel's sobbing echoed throughout the small hotel room. Oscar worried that their neighbors would call security on them. Chewing the inside of his cheek, the heavier-set male gently pulled the baker back and wiped away the salty tears that ran down Nigel's pale cheeks. "We'll figure it out, okay? Go take a shower, and I'll pack everything and get the tickets ready," the critic instructed softly.

Nigel opened his mouth, and then closed it quickly, nodding slowly. The older male could tell he wanted to argue but decided against it, picking himself up from the floor, and then disappearing into the bedroom. Minutes passed before Oscar could hear the shower being flicked on, and a couple of seconds passed before the chubbier male pushed himself onto his feet. Scooping his phone up from the couch, quickly sent a text to his editor before booking two flights back to France. As well as a rental car to be dropped off in front of their hotel. Oscar pocketed his phone quickly, and then walked toward the small office, quickly packing his laptop and whatever notes he had for his article. Moving into the bedroom the older male grabbed both of their clothing, not taking the time to fold them, before stuffing them into the small suitcases.

Nigel walked out of the steamy bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist a few minutes later. His eyes were still glassy with fresh tears. The baker didn't say anything, stumbling into the bedroom and then resting his head on the older male's shoulder. "Are you feeling any better?" He asked, running his fingers through Nigel's wet hair.

The younger male shook his head, as a low whine escaped his mouth. "Y-You don't have to do this Oscar." The baker whispered, voice wavering slightly.

The Critic chuckled, nuzzling his face into the other man's neck and inhaling deeply. "I want to do this, Nigel. I already have everything packed and ready to go. Why don't you get dressed, and we can grab some food before heading to the airport?" He suggested.

The skinnier male picked at his fingers nervously, eyes focused on the stain on the carpet. "I'm not hungry..." The younger male muttered, letting the towel fall to the floor, and then started getting dressed.

Oscar shook his head, setting a hand on the other male's shoulder. "You should still get something in your system, it'll be a good distraction until we land." He insisted.

"O-Okay...." Nigel muttered.

The rental car arrived ten minutes later. The older man loaded everything into the trunk while Nigel settled into the passenger seat. The critic thanked the driver and gave him an extra tip before getting into the driver's seat. The drive to the diner was quiet, but Oscar occasionally glanced at the curled-up figure beside him. A mixture of anxiety and fear bubbled in his stomach as he parked the car slowly, leaning his head back against the seat, and exhaling softly. Shrugging off his jacket, Oscar draped the heavy material across Nigel, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before climbing out of the car and into the diner. After ordering, the critic found a spot at the back of the small cafe, running a shaky hand down his face as he pulled his phone out from his pocket.

Can you do me a favor? - 10:00

Should I be worried? You never ask me for favors. - 10:05

Oscar scanned the empty cafe, taking a long sip of his drink. It's about Nigel, I already see you typing, shut up. Someone is trying to take his bakery, can you look into it for me and see if there is a reason? - 10: 07

Sure, but it'll cost you some work days away from your boy ;) - 10:10

Rolling his eyes, the male scoffed lightly shaking his head as a smirk formed on his face. Fine, just make it fast. We're heading to the airport now. - 10: 15

Oscar stared at the screen for a long moment, chewing his bottom lip. Soft jazz music echoed through the small café. Minutes passed before a petite woman emerged from behind the counter, carrying a plastic bag. The critic nodded at her as he quickly grabbed the bag and then headed back to the car, smiling when he noticed that Nigel was still asleep. Climbing back into the car, the fatter male leaned over gently shaking the other male awake, watching him jolt upright. "W-Where are we?" He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and scanning the empty parking lot.

"Diner on the edge of town, I got you a burger with some fries," Oscar answered.

The younger man groaned as he popped his back and then sat up slightly. His eyes moved toward the bag of food on the dashboard, and he let out a small hum. "Thanks..." he replied softly. The baker observed the older man as he unpacked his food, holding out a white clamshell with a raised eyebrow and tilting his head to the side. "Didn't you get anything?" he asked.

"No, I wasn't hungry. I just got a drink," the critic replied, lifting the Styrofoam cup and swirling it in the air. Oscar watched as Nigel nodded slowly, unwrapped his burger, and stared at it for a moment before taking a small bite from the side. A sense of pride washed over the older man as he chuckled, started the car, and began driving toward the airport.

Once they arrived at the airport, Nigel found a spot next to a small mini-mart, his eyes flicking down to his phone as if expecting it to come alive at any moment. Oscar went to check them in, and once he was finished, Nigel's stomach growled softly. Embarrassed, the chubbier male placed a hand on his stomach while scanning the mini-mart. He quickly grabbed a sandwich and a water bottle. Oscar offered him half of his sandwich, but Nigel simply shook his head and turned his attention back to his phone. Inhaling and exhaling softly, the older male leaned his head back against the chair, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

They boarded the plane ten minutes later and Oscar placed a hand on Nigel's thigh, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach, and his heart pounded in his chest. The chubbier male knew he shouldn't be this nervous, but the more Oscar tried to make sense of everything, the more his anxiety and fear seemed to grow. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he gave the baker a small squeeze, which earned him a confused look from the other man. All Oscar could manage was a soft smile. He then moved his hand toward Nigel's, gently rubbing his thumb across Nigel's knuckles. "Just relax, I have my editor looking into their claims on the bakery. We'll get this figured out love." He whispered.

Nigel was silent, hazy eyes staring at Oscar's hand; the older male could see the gears in the smaller male's mind turn slowly. The baker slipped his hand from the chubbier male's grip, making a noise in the back of his throat while shaking his head. "H-H-How can I relax when strangers I have never met or heard of are going to take my dream?" he demanded, voice low and laced with venom.

The chubbier male tried not to flinch; he knew that the baker had a point. Even if they were able to figure out a way to stop Nigel's bakery from getting sold, what's stopping others from trying? You could always offer to buy the building; you have enough saved up. A voice whispered in the back of Oscar's mind. The idea sent a small wave of giddiness through the fatter male; if he bought the bakery, then Nigel wouldn't have to worry about sharks trying to buy him out of business.

Oscar's eyes shifted back toward Nigel, biting down on his tongue as the words seemed to hang heavily. It wasn't Oscar's right to make that assumption; it was Nigel's. The critic shook the thought to the back of his mind, storing it for another time. Right now he had to focus on keeping his boyfriend from self-destructing. "Once we land, we'll meet up with my editor and look over the documents they presented to your assistant. I'm sure we can find something to stop them," he reassured.

The younger male scoffed, rolling his eyes, and leaning his cheek against his hand. Eyes focused on the scenery that passed by them slowly. "I can't afford a lawyer, Oscar; stop trying to make me feel better." He muttered, shifting in the seat and turning his shoulder toward the older male.

***

It was night when they landed back in France. Oscar helped the younger man with his bags as they walked out of the airport side by side. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the flight began. Oscar’s chest was tight, and his hands shook at his sides as he glanced at the smaller male next to him. The silence was suffocating, and if he was being honest, he was surprised he hadn't cracked under the pressure sooner. He watched the baker for a long moment; dark circles under Nigel’s eyes were the size of half-moons. Nigel had only taken a few bites of the burger he had bought, which sent more nerves churning in Oscar's stomach. Swallowing thickly, the older man formed a small fist. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, exhaling softly before opening them and turning toward his boyfriend. "Look, I know you think it’s over, Nig, but I’m not going to let you self-destruct. We’ll figure this out, alright? I’ll do whatever I can to help," he stated.

A flash of hurt and guilt flashed across the smaller male's face. His eyes shifted down onto the ground. "Y-You're right...I'm sorry, Oscar..." Nigel whispered, tears streaming down his face once more.

The older male moved closer, wrapping an arm around the baker's shoulder and pulling Nigel into his comforting side. "I know you're upset; I would be too. But you have people to help you now, doofus, so stop working yourself up with the thought that you'll fail before anything happens," he said, kissing the smaller man on the side of the head. The younger male smirked, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the older male's phone buzzed in his pocket. Sighing, Oscar pulled out his phone and stared at the screen for a moment. "That was my editor," he informed the smaller male. "She said she found something in the documents." The chubbier male added.

A few minutes later, a black SUV pulled up to the curb. A tall man dressed in a black suit stepped out and walked toward the two men, holding out a pair of keys. Nigel numbly climbed into the car, watching as the older man and the new arrival talked among themselves for a few minutes. He set his pounding head against the cool window. The baker observed Oscar gesture toward their bags before walking around to the driver's side. Once the car was loaded, the man in black slipped into the back seat, nodding at the older man, who smiled back before starting the car and driving toward his office. 

Chapter Text

Oscar remained silent as they entered the large office building, ignoring the stares and whispers from his co-workers. He had anticipated this reaction when he met the baker; he knew it was inevitable that, at some point, the Critic’s luck would run out and his metabolism would falter. The older man tried to brush off the heated glares and snickers as he kept close to the smaller male, their fingers intertwined. Keeping his eyes focused ahead, Oscar pressed the elevator button. Minutes passed slowly as the metal doors slid open silently. Nigel was the first to step into the elevator, followed by the older man. Blue eyes shifted toward the baker next to him, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously.

Opening his mouth and quickly closing it, while shifting from foot to foot, half of him wanted to ask if Nigel was okay. But he already knew the answer to that; the smaller male was radiating with stress and fear. Nigel stayed silent until the older male closed the door behind them, flicking on the light. A whimper followed by a sniffle escaped the smaller male's mouth. It was just above a whisper, almost making the critic question if he heard it correctly.

Oscar took a few steps forward, wrapping his thick arm around the baker's shoulder, and hugged him. Soft sobs echoed throughout the large office, Nigel tangled his fingers in the other male's shift biting down on his lower lip and trying to muffle the noise. The older male rubbed the smaller male's back, gently cooing reassuringly, the office door handle jiggled causing the baker to quickly push himself from the larger male, wiping his eyes with his thumbs. Oscar held back a remark as Nigel quickly made his way to the chairs around the round table. At that moment, a medium-built woman walked into the office, her thick plastic glasses perched on her nose and her arms full of paperwork. The editor startled slightly but relaxed a couple of seconds later, closing the door behind her. "I wasn't expecting you two to be here so early," she admitted.

The older male sucked on his lower lip. "Nigel wanted to get home as fast as possible; what did you find?" he asked, taking a seat next to the smaller male and then setting a hand on his thigh.

The medium woman nodded, setting the large stack of papers onto the table and fixing her glasses before sitting down across from both men. "The men that came to the bakery claimed you never finalized all your paperwork as well as permits to own the building before the original owner died." She explained, gently sliding a packet of papers across the table.

"That's fucking bullshit! I knew the fucking owner, and he never gave me any paperwork to sign over." Nigel snarled, pushing himself up from his chair while forming a fist at his side.

The older male set a hand on the other male's hip, gently squeezing. "Nig, let her talk..." He whispered, earning a loud sigh from the baker as he lowered himself back into his chair.

Oscar's editor inhaled and exhaled, wetting her lips slightly before speaking once more. "I talked to all your staff, and they said the same thing: the problem is. They are right; without the proper paperwork, the bakery is technically up for foreclosure," she replied.

The larger male sensed Nigel bristle again as a low growl escaped his throat. Quickly placing a hand on his shoulder, the critic offered a reassuring pat. "But?" he encouraged.

A thin smile formed on the woman's face as she brought her hands together. "I managed to find a few loopholes we could spin in our favor. Of course, it's risky, and it'll take time to execute properly and legally." She responded lowly.

"How long are we talking?" Oscar asked.

"Well, without the proper paperwork, it'll make the process harder. But within the year." The smaller woman replied.

The smaller male slammed his hands on the table, causing both to jump slightly. "A year! You expect me to wait a fucking year for a crackpot plan!?" Nigel exploded, pushing himself from his chair once more. "This was a waste of time..." He muttered, shaking his head, and started walking out of the building.

Oscar opened his mouth, exchanging a glance with his editor before chasing after the male. "Nigel, wait!" The critic shouted, bolting down the stairs and managing to catch up with the other male, who quickly snatched the smaller male's wrist, pulling him closer to his chest, and captured the baker's lips with his own. "Let me help you forget for a while, Nig; you're going to put yourself in an early grave with all this stress."

The smaller male mentally flinched; part of him felt remorse for how he had acted in the office, but anger was bubbling up in his chest, pushing logic aside. "How can I think of anything else right now, Oscar? I am about to lose everything I have ever worked for." He sighed.

The older man grinned widely as he cupped the younger man's face in his large hands. "I have a few ideas in mind. While we were landing and driving to the office, I ordered some pizza, wings, and cheese bread to my apartment. How about you take me home, and I show you just how good I can be?" He said in a low voice, playfully nipping at the baker's chin.

The baker couldn't help but mentally groan, leaning his head back slightly and wrapping his arms around the other male. "When did you have time to do that?" He whined.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Come on, Nig. Let me help you." Oscar smirked.

Nigel dug his nails into the meat of his palm, ignoring the heat that coiled in his lower belly. Everything in his body was screaming at him to let Oscar have his way; the older male was only trying to help. But the anger that festered in the younger male's chest was pushing pleasure and logic to the shadows of his mind. Letting out a small sigh, the baker placed a hand on the other male's shoulder, pushing him back slightly. "F-F-Fine," the baker stammered.

***

They both stumbled into the apartment, the baker kissing the older man sloppily while Oscar kicked the door closed behind them. Pulling Nigel's jacket off his shoulders, they tossed it into the corner. The younger man gently bit the other man’s neck, chuckling softly at the darkening hickey that was already forming on the larger man’s pale skin. As Nigel continued further into the living room, his blue eyes glanced at the small tower of pizza boxes and food clamshells scattered across the coffee table. He smirked while pushing the other man down onto the couch. "Are you going to be a good boy and eat all your food?" the smaller man asked, observing Oscar's belly gently bouncing and slapping against his plump thighs as he panted softly.

Nodding eagerly, the larger male whined lowly, cranking his neck to the side, shaky hands running down the baker's chest. "Make me feel good, Nigel." The critic begged.

Nigel bit down on his lower lip, drinking at the sight of the older male below him. Eyes flicking toward the small tower of food, leaning forward and flicking open the first pizza box. As the baker pulled the first couple of slices onto a paper plate, a noise emitted from the larger male, as Oscar made grabby hands toward the plate. "Such an eager pet." The younger male cooed, picking up a slice and hovering it above the other male's mouth, watching the Critic greedily inhale a large mouthful of food. The apartment fell into a comfortable silence as Nigel continued feeding the larger male underneath him, thin fingers disappearing in the pudgy flesh as he massaged Oscar's stomach. The older man groaned as he leaned his head back, swallowing a mouthful of food. Nigel placed the empty box on the floor, then opened a box of cheese bread and another box of pizza. Meanwhile, Oscar burped into his fist, his cheeks and chin stained with pasta sauce. He took a few breaths before diving back into his food.

As the baker continued feeding the larger male, his eyes slowly started growing in size as Oscar's tight button-down shirt's metal buttons slowly spread further apart. The first two buttons popped open, disappearing behind the TV while the white orb bounced violently, causing the male to whimper. The grey shirt curled up, gathering underneath his large moobs, biting down on his lower lip as the fabric rubbed against his perked nipples. The larger male's cheeks were puffy and dusted pink with exhaustion, pudgy fingers pawing at the tight plastic, shifting slightly, letting the large glob slide between his legs. Burping loudly, the critic groaned, squeezing his eyes shut while pain radiated through his body. Blue eyes flicked toward the coffee table, counting four boxes of pizza and three boxes of wings that were discarded onto the floor, pasta, and wing sauce smeared across the older male's fingers and belly. Moaning, he put his hands on either side of his huge belly and let out a low whine. "Did my little piglet gorge himself too much?" Nigel traced his fingers over the critic's bare belly button in a light-hearted insult. The plastic button groaned loudly as Oscar's swollen belly pressed against his shrinking pants, vanishing swiftly into the pale orb.

"P-P-Please hurts..." Oscar panted, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Nigel tapped the tight button, watching Oscar's overly bloated belly jiggle leisurely. Whining slightly louder, the older male buried the heel of his foot into the couch. "N-N-Nig. I can't eat anymore." The critic moaned.

The baker glanced over toward the last box of cheese bread, scooping the remaining two pieces. "How about this? Finish these and I'll reward you by letting you dry-hump my hand." He whispered.

Biting down onto his lower lip, Oscar could taste copper filling his mouth slowly. The older male knew he should stop. He was way past full, and the waistband of his slackers was cutting into his hips. If he was honest with himself, the critic wasn't sure how the plastic button held on as his belly continued pushing outward. Taking over his lap, while his love handles started spilling over the waistband, the heat that pooled in the male's lower belly caused Oscar's brain to short-circuit as he obediently opened his mouth, letting Nigel shovel the first piece into his mouth. The small wet spot on the older male's slacks grew as his dick leaked with pre-come; Nigel must have noticed because the younger male smirked, lowering his hand toward the other male's tight crotch and then starting to palm it slowly.

Squeaking, the critic choked on the food stuffed into his cheeks, tossing his head backward while his hips bucked against the other male's hand. By the time the second piece of cheese bread was shoveled into Oscar's mouth, the man was melting. Moaning loudly and nails digging into the cushion of the couch, while the critic bucked wildly like a wild animal in heat. Releasing against his belly, Oscar gulped down air, and as tears trickled down his pale cheeks, Nigel leaned forward, peppering the side of the other male's face with kisses. "Good boy." He praised lowly. Sliding off the critic's stomach, the baker started cleaning up the boxes, disappearing into the kitchen briefly. "I should let you distract me more often; I'm starting to like watching you come just from me just touching you." He continued.

"You're a menace; I'm not going to be able to walk for hours now." Oscar panted heavily.

The baker pushed and smirked once more, humming softly. "You say that as if it's a bad thing. Admit you like being taken care of as a pet." He whispered, leaning down and gently patting the older male's cheek.

Oscar rolled his eyes. "F-F-Fuck you." He growled. 

Chapter Text

A few hours later, Oscar was startled awake by a loud thud from the kitchen. The elder man moaned as he dug the heels of his fists into his eyes. The critic moved slightly, muttering softly, his stomach still a little inflated and taunting. The fatter man puffed out some air by running a fat hand down the curve of his stomach. Then, he slid toward the edge of the bed and gradually lifted himself onto his feet, his belly swaying a little. Oscar waddled toward his dresser, changing his clothing quickly, ignoring how tight his t-shirt was around his lower stomach, and shuffled out of the bedroom, noticing the smaller male wasn't in the living room. Opening his mouth, a few curses from the kitchen caught the critic's attention, smirking slightly the older male walked toward the kitchen, eyes scanning the large baking trays that were lined with different cupcakes on the counter before observing the baker make a small stack of metal bowls onto the counter muttering under his breath. 

Panic surged in the stockier male's chest as his eyes widened. He had known the other male for only six short months, but he had noticed that whenever Nigel felt stressed or scared about something, he would bake. The smaller male would bake or cook until he ran out of ingredients, using it as an excuse to pace until he was fidgeting with his hands. If pacing didn't help him calm down, he'd make the journey to any store to restock before continuing on his baking spree. As he moved deeper into the kitchen, the man's gaze drifted downward to the vanilla cupcakes with the fresh-cut strawberries on top and the bright pink frosting glopped on top. "Nig, are you okay?" The fatter male quizzed. 

The smaller male flinched violently, spinning on his heels, his eyes wide. A few minutes later, the baker relaxed, his eyes returning to their normal size. "I didn't hear you wake up," Nigel whispered, a few silent moments passed before a smile formed on the smaller male's face. "Now that you're up, will you try this for me?" Nigel asked quickly, ignoring the question, scooping up a strawberry cupcake and then shoving it into the other male's mouth. 

A lot of cream cheese frosting was dripping from the corners of Oscar's mouth, and he squeaked to catch it. The older man groaned pitifully as the smooth frosting covered his tongue. The vanilla cake was kept moist and bursting with flavors by the strawberries. "As usual, Nigel, it's good. Will this be included on the menu?" Lapping the remaining icing from his fingers, he asked. The chubbier male knew what the other male was doing, the baker was trying to distract him with food to avoid whatever problem was causing the smaller male to stress out so much. It was a strategy that always worked on the critic no matter how much willpower the thought he had, mentally sighing, Oscar finished the destroyed cupcake and then snatched another from the baking sheet.

As the baker carefully put another mixture into the cupcake tin, the critic could see the gears spinning in his head. "If I don't go out of business maybe, I'll need to tweak the recipe a bit and come up with a name first. Yes," He said, carefully putting the tray in the oven.

The fatter male licked his lips, shoveling the rest of the dessert into his mouth. "Why not just Strawberries & Cream?" He quizzed, arching an eyebrow. A third cupcake was snatched from the baking tray, and then shortly followed a fourth. The smaller male remained quiet the corner of his lip twitching slightly as he watched the critic devour a fifth cupcake humming happily as his shirt curled above his navel. The critic ran a hand over his stomach, burping into his fist lowly. 

Nigel's eyes flicked toward the second batch of cupcakes, the blue frosting glowing underneath the kitchen light. "Do you mind trying this one too? I wanna make sure the combination isn't too weird." He commented, picking up a red velvet cupcake and holding it out. A small wave of guilt washed through the baker, it was more of a half-truth. He wanted to make sure the flavors of blueberry and red velvet didn't clash too badly to make anyone sick, but the other part wanted to see how far he could push the other male's self-control. Last night was a small peek behind Oscar's mysterious curtains, and Nigel would be lying if he wasn't addicted already with the thought of finding out more. He wanted to see how deep the chubbier male's desires lay, as well as how hard it would be to push him over that line Oscar was already tipping over. 

Nigel watched the older male lap up the frosting, letting out a surprised hum before biting into the side of the red velvet cupcake. His hand was on the curve of his stomach, gently tapping his belly happily. Oscar scooped up two more from the tray, while the baker pulled the finished cupcakes from the oven placing them into the fridge. "Like it?" He asked, closing the fridge door with his hip. As the smaller man stepped forward and gave the critic a cheek kiss before snatching up a handful of inflated flesh and giving it a quick squeeze, Oscar nodded and swallowed the food in his mouth. The fatter male gave a low yelp, his cheeks blushing a little. After a few minutes of silence, Nigel reached forward, picked up another cupcake, and brought it up to the fatter man's mouth.

Oscar's eyes lowered to his still-taut stomach, mentally flinching. The waistband of his sweatpants pressed gently into his lower belly while the hem of his tight white t-shirt dug into the sides of his stomach. Chewing the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked back up toward the dessert, the intoxicating blueberry frost engulfed his nose causing his stomach to growl softly. Oscar made a note in the back of his head to order larger clothes ignoring the small pang of shame that burned in his chest when the older male remembered he recently bought these clothes on Halloween. Narrowing his eyes at the smaller male, observing the wide grin and sparkle of amusement, before opening his mouth slowly. 

Nigel made a noise in the back of his throat peeled the wrapper from the dessert and then started feeding him. If the critic had to be honest whatever the baker touched felt like it was blessed by a god, the flavors and spices blended well, and the frosting was always smooth against his tongue. As much as Oscar wanted to blame the smaller male for his predicament, he couldn't hold it above Nigel's head too hard. He was also to blame, for falling for whatever spell the baker had cast on him. Even though the chubbier male knew there was no spell...it was love. Oscar loved Nigel and everything in his body seemed to stop whenever that realization hit him. 

The critic knew how he felt about the other male since they spent the holiday together, but every time the chubbier male opened his mouth to express his feelings nerves got in the way. Oscar finished the cupcake, swiping another from the tray, peeling the wrapper from the moist cake while the baker started packaging the strawberry cupcakes, then placed them into the fridge. "What are you making now?" The fatter male quizzed, with a mouthful of food, scratching the curve of his stomach. 

With a snort, Nigel wiped the frosting off the corner of the fat man's lip with his thumb. "Cookie dough." He licked the buttercream off his fingers in response. After grabbing another red velvet cupcake, the older man sat down at the kitchen table, flinching a little when he heard the wooden chair crack. Oscar opened his legs a little and leaned back, allowing his belly to slide between his plump legs. The older male burped loudly and sighed quietly, closing his eyes. The baker barked out a laugh, packed up the remaining cupcakes, set them into the fridge, and then finally patted Oscar's belly watching it wobble violently. "At least someone appreciates my baking." He muttered, trailing his lips across the curve of the other male's belly. 

Oscar bit back a moan, head leaning back against the chair as he squeezed his eyes closed. Nails dug into this thigh, a mixture of emotions spiraling through the critic's chest as he let out a shaky breath. Nigel must have noticed, kneeling in between the older male's legs, lips traveling further down his bloated belly toward his navel. The smaller male lingered around the other male's navel for a few minutes gently kissing and sucking the pudgy skin, Oscar knew there were going to be hickeys. "N-N-Nig, wait." The critic panted. 

Nigel glanced up, a large smirk on his face, The fatter male's cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, as he tilted his head down toward his belly. "That's the problem...." He whispered. Nigel turned his head toward the other male, arching an eyebrow and silently staring at him for a moment. "Everyone loves your baking Nig, you're bakery wouldn't be so highly rated in reviews if it wasn't." Oscar quickly said. 

The smaller male nodded, turning his attention back toward the cupcake tray, gently pulling the desserts out, and lined them up on the counter. "I don't care about everyone though, I care about your option." The baker replied. 

It was Oscar's turn to snort, "If I remember correctly, you were just trying to get my attention and annoy me when we first met." He chuckled. 

The younger male scooped the buttercream into a piping bag, letting out a small sigh. "What can I say, a man knows a good man when he sees them." He responded smugly. 

 A thunderous laugh came from the fatter male. "That's why you're stuffing me like a pig?" The reviewer emphasized his question by smacking the side of his tummy as another burp erupted from his mouth. 

Nigel's eyes examined the other male for a moment, and Oscar could see a flash of lust spark in the smaller male's eyes. "Harder for you to run away," He smirked. 

The larger male hummed as he observed the smaller man for a brief moment. With a grunt, he pushed himself off the wooden chair and waddled closer. "You know everything will be alright right?" Nigel was forced to stare up at Oscar as he questioned him while holding his chin.

The baker scoffed and withdrew his chin from the older man's hold, focusing on the counter and firmly grasping its edge. "How are you so sure?" His voice was tight as he asked.

The reviewer's mouth opened, but only air emerged, so he quickly shut it. To be honest, he had no idea; he barely managed to persuade his editor to pull the stories she discovered. If Oscar was telling the truth, he was risking both his job and his editor by assisting the other male in this case. The smaller man idolized the bakery, and Oscar was genuinely afraid of what the other male would do if he lost it because Oscar failed, but he was also jeopardizing Nigel's life's work. "Because even if you do lose the shop, Nigel, I won't end the end of your career." The chubbier male stated after a few minutes of silence. 

With tears pricking the corner of his eyes and fists shaking at his eyes, Nigel spun rapidly on his heels. As they looked at one another and swallowed deeply, the elder man's shoulders tensed. Oscar put his hands on the other's shoulders and stepped forward a few more paces. With his shoulders trembling a little and tears streaming down his pallid cheeks, the baker bent his head. "I can't ask you to do that Oscar." He cried.

The critic smiled softly, hand traveling to the baker's cheek. "You aren't. I want to, as your partner." He whispered. 

Chapter Text

Oscar realized that the smaller male was trying to maintain his facade just for him. There were many occasions when Oscar noticed Nigel's smile falter, especially when they sat close together on the couch or quietly prepared dinner side by side. The fatter male began to feel a growing sense of worry. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, turning his attention toward the kitchen while chewing the inside of his cheek. Smirking, he shifted his focus to Nigel, who was wearing his glasses and hunched over his laptop, typing away. "Hey, it's been a while since we've had a date. Let's do something," he suggested, wrapping an arm around the smaller man and pulling him closer. 

The baker yelped softly, his shoulders tensing as he bumped into the other man's plump side before relaxing again. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, the smaller man cleared his throat, shifting away from the male once more. Turning his attention back down toward his computer, a mixture of emotions sparked in his green eyes. "I'm too busy with everything going on at the bakery, Osc. Maybe another time," he replied. 

Oscar leaned back on his palms, sighing as he rolled his eyes and placed his hand on the curve of his stomach. "You've been hooked to that thing for days now, Nig. It's time for a break, or you're going to fry your brain even more than it already is. Come on, please." He urged, setting his hand on Nig's. 

The apartment was silent for a few minutes. Guilt swarmed inside Nigel's chest as the older man made a noise in the back of his throat, pushing himself off the couch and shuffling toward the kitchen. The smaller man watched the other's body for a few moments, his cheeks darkening as the guilt morphed into a burning heat in his belly. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he sighed. "Wait." He called, watching Oscar gently spin on his heels to look at him. They stared at each other for a few seconds until the baker inhaled softly, snapped the laptop closed, pushed it away, and set his glasses on top. "You're right. Let's do something. What do you have in mind?" Nigel asked, pushing himself off the couch. The baker watched a mixture of emotions swirl in the fatter male's eyes, closing the distance between them and then taking Oscar's hand into his. 

The critic paused to think for a moment, chewing on the tip of his thumb. "I-I wouldn't mind a baking lesson. I've always been fascinated by your approach to food," he admitted, blushing slightly. 

A soft chuckle escaped Nigel's lips as he nodded. "I'd love to teach you about love. What do you want to create?" he asked, leaning forward to give the chubbier male a quick peck on the cheek. They walked into the kitchen, where the older male leaned against the counter while the smaller male rummaged through the cabinets, gathering bowls and various pans of different sizes. A small smirk appeared on the chubbier male as he folded his arms across his chest. Meanwhile, Nigel gathered supplies and lined them up on the counter. He then clapped his hands together and spun around on his heels. "So! I have everything you need for practically any recipe you want to try. But I think we should start with something easy since this is your first time baking," he said with a beaming smile.

The older man scoffed as he pushed himself away from the counter, pinning the smaller man, Nigel, between his body and the counter. He bit back a laugh when a small yelp escaped Nigel's lips. "What makes you think this is my first time?" Oscar asked, a smug grin spreading across his face. 

The baker's expression only faltered for a few seconds before he smiled, his fingers tracing the curve of his stomach. "Given how much you eat for a living, I'm not surprised you resemble a spoiled piglet, squealing and begging for someone to feed you," Nigel countered, his eyes darkening slightly with lust. Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat as his body trembled a little, and it was his time to turn pink, his round cheeks flushing brightly. He bit on his lower lip, his eyes narrowing somewhat as his thick fingers clenched into a fist. For a long time, neither spoke. Nigel grabbed one of the rolls sticking out from the other male's hips with his other hand and put his small arm around him, drawing him closer. "I bet you don't even care what I make; all you care about is me feeding you again until you can't move." Whispering hot breath against his neck. 

Oscar's mind was spinning as heat coiled in his stomach, his cock twitching violently while blood coated his tongue as Nigel gave an experimental squeeze, causing the male to keen softly. Screwing his eyes shut, the male tried to push the lingering thoughts to the back of his head, Nigel moved the hand on his hip up toward Oscar's bellybutton, whispering something into his ear but the critic couldn't make out any of the words, as his heartbeat launched into his ears. As soon as it started, Nigel let out a low chuckle, raising his hands up and behind his head, amusement lingering in his green eyes as he shot a toothy smirk at him. 

The critic's eyes were blown wide, and the heat in his stomach pulsed harshly, causing his member to twitch again. A spark of frustration ignited in the older male's chest as he mentally growled. "He's fucking with me, well two can play at that." Oscar thought. "We can make whatever you wanna make Nig, like you said I'll eat whatever you put in front of me." The older male said, leaning against the counter, cupping the baker's chin. 

The baker let out a hearty laugh as he gently pulled his chin away from the other person's grip. Turning his attention toward the counter,  "Do you think you can focus? I know how distracted you get when food is in front of you." He asked in a teasing manner. 

Nigel tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, a large smile on his face. Rubbing his chin and let out a soft hum, snapping his fingers. "Well then, how about a bet? If you can control yourself for the entire time, then I'll reward you."  Nigel countered, holding up a finger. 

Oscar furrowed his brows with confusion, head cocked to the side as he stared at the baker. The look on the smaller male's face scared him, but at the same time, it intrigued him. They both had a habit of pushing each other to the limit, either with their bantering or with pleasure. Most of the time, it was the smaller male starting something, and almost always, it was Oscar who won. If the larger male was honest with himself, he always was amused whenever Nigel threw a small fit, waving a fist in the air and demanded another chance or round. Surpressing a chuckle, the critic ran a hand over his face, folding his arms over his chest. "And if I lose?" He questioned, holding out a hand. 

Nigel pressed his lips into a thin line. A couple seconds later, the male held up three fingers.  "Then you have to do whatever I say for three days." The baker said with a smirk. 

Oscar hummed, rubbing his chin for a moment before nodding. "Fine, deal." He said. 

***

Oscar was feeling nervous as he stared at the fourth pan of cake that Nigel had just pulled out of the oven. The food critic was cornered in the kitchen after both men had gotten into a frosting fight, resulting in their cake ending up on the floor. Oscar could see that Nigel was annoyed, but his eyes sparkled with laughter and amusement, so Oscar took that as a win. So, technically, they had three cakes to work with. If he was lucky, then the smaller male would turn one of them into cake pops, making it easier for him to quickly scarf it down. Nigel had his tongue slightly sticking out, his eyes focused on the hot pan in front of him as he transferred the cakes onto the cooling rack. Oscar's blue eyes tracked the smaller male gliding across the kitchen, who grabbed the chocolate buttercream they had made earlier. He then began frosting the small cake in front of him. 

Oscar sipped his drink slowly while grabbing a handful of chips that Nigel had laid out for him. He perked up slightly as Nigel turned and walked over to the table, setting down a plate with a large slice of cake. Oscar glanced at the plate; the aroma of orange and chocolate filled the air, causing his stomach to growl softly. Nigel smiled, placing his hands on his hips. "First of eight. Hope you can keep up, big boy," he said with a grin before turning on his heels and strutting back toward the oven. Oscar bit his lip as he picked up the fork next to his plate and took a large bite of food. His eyes widened in delight. He suppressed a moan as he quickly devoured three more large bites, his hand tapping happily on the curve of his stomach, making his large belly wobble gently. Oscar scooped up the remaining frosting and crumbs with his fingers and then licked them off, humming happily. A couple seconds later, a second slice appeared on his plate, followed by a kiss on the cheek. 

The kitchen was soon filled with Nigel's soft humming as he started making cake pops. He turned his head slightly to glance back at the plump man who was happily enjoying his food. After the fourth slice, the critic slowed down his pace, panting softly while sweat trickled down either side of his head. With one hand resting on his stomach, the chubby fingers gently pressed into his soft skin, and he burped into his fist. Oscar groaned as he leaned his head back against the chair. His thick thighs were spread wide, and his bloated belly rested against the cool wood beneath him. The soft cotton shirt was pulled past his navel, taunt against the round globe, while the sweatpants hugged Oscar's pudgy sausage legs, small holes scattered through the soft material, revealing small portions of boxers and pale skin. Nigel placed the fifth slice down, his eyebrows creased as he inspected the plate with his green eyes. A soft smirk formed on his face. A tiny hand found its way to his hip once more. "Aw, you're not tapping out already, are you? You still have three more slices of the first cake, as well as cake pops to eat. Unless you're ready to call it quits?" the baker teased, shrugging his shoulders. 

Oscar sensed that the other male was challenging him, eager to see just how far he could be pushed before he would back down. The heavier male realized he wasn't fully satisfied; this would have been easier if Nigel had made anything other than cake. Between the thick frosting that Oscar knew the other male whipped up just to knock the wind out of him and the overly sweet cake, it was difficult to swallow. "Nah, of course not, you're not winning that easily, Nig. Since you're up, though, could you grab me some milk or something to wash down all this cake?" he asked, raising his empty glass and shaking it slightly. Oscar observed a flicker of displeasure develop and vanish on the skinnier man's face as he took the glass and went for the refrigerator. The critic burped into his fist again, rubbing the side of his enormous stomach and inwardly giggling as it rippled fiercely before he resumed eating. Nigel appeared a couple of minutes later, setting the glass down in front of Oscar, whispering words of praise before walking back to the stove to finish the cake pops. 

Oscar's stomach lurched as Nigel placed the final slice of chocolate cake in front of him. His legs were spread wider apart, with his belly occupying the small area and pressing on the table's edge. The cotton shirt was pushed past the curvature of his stomach, displaying a fine sprinkling of pink across his belly. The larger male panted heavily, thick fingers placed at either side of his stomach as he whined lowly, cheeks pink with exertion as well as eyes hazed over with a mixture of pleasure and pain. A small wave of dull pain stung his stomach, causing Oscar's cock to twitch again. He knew he was getting full, he doubted he could fit much more into his stomach with how hard it was to press his fingers into his side. Swallowing thickly, the male closed his eyes, letting the smaller male wrap his arms around his shoulder and gently pat the top of his belly. Oscar knew that Nigel was watching the large globe jiggle, eyes sparkling with pride as he ran a cool hand down the taunt hot skin. Fingers gently brushed against his deep navel, sending a chill up the older male's spine. The critic bit back a moan, instead, he burped loudly. 

A soft chuckle escaped the smaller male as Nigel slowly climbed onto Oscar's lap, fingers gripping onto the large rolls to keep himself from falling off. His hands traveled to his love handles, where he squeezed gently, earning a small squeak from the other male. Nigel buried his face into the chubbier male's neck, "I was thinking we can try brownies next after you finish off the cake pops." He stated, fingers digging into the plump flesh. Oscar glanced at the counter, noticing the still half-filled bowl of cake, and then at the ten pops that were sitting on a new plate. His stomach churned slightly as panic filled his chest, chewing the inside of his cheek. Part of him didn't want Nigel to win; the smaller male would gloat, and Oscar didn't want to think about what the baker would make him do. The need to push himself and the pleasure of feeling full echoed in the back of his mind, lulling him into a false sense of numbing pain. The other part of him desired the smaller figure. He just wanted to lie down. His moobs pressed against the curve of his stomach, while his lower belly occupied his entire lap, spilling over his knees. The critic wanted the smaller male to straddle his lap, thin fingers messaging his taut skin, while maybe leaving small hickeys all over his plump skin. 

"Here, let me help," Nigel whispered, interrupting the older man's train of thought. With one swift motion, he pulled the tight cotton shirt over the man's head, causing it to get caught around his bulging chest for a moment before it fell to the floor. The sweatpants were then tugged down below his lower belly, while the top part of his stomach surged forward, engulfing the fabric beneath. Oscar leaned back, letting out a breathy moan while hiccuping and burping loudly. Nigel smiled, fingers tracing up his stomach toward his moobs, "Unless you're ready to call it quits. You look like you're uncomfortable. How about we end this and I can give you a message and kisses for a conciliation prize?" He taunted lightly. Oscar opened his mouth, but only a shallow wheeze came out as his stomach grumbled. The critic was aware that the thoughts swirling in his head were a bad idea, but he had pushed logic aside several moments ago. Shifting slightly, he winced internally as his hips pressed uncomfortably against the arms of the chair. 

He turned his head towards the smaller male and shook his head. Nigel made a noise in the back of his throat, eyes widening with shock and worry before returning to size a couple of minutes later. "Jeez, you really are a glutton, Osc. If you get any bigger, you won't be able to do your job properly." He commented, sliding off the heavier male's lap. Giggling while he kissed the other male's cheek, "Maybe I could hire you as a personal taste tester afterward." Nigel whispered sudictivley. Oscar grunted in response, watching as the baker turned around and started walking toward the counter once more. The critic relaxed slightly, ignoring the creaking that came from underneath him. A spark of excitement shot through the male as his blue eyes shifted downward toward the chair. His bloated belly was brushing past his knees, balancing on the edge before spilling over the edge of the chair. 

Oscar bit down on his lip hard, as his cock twitched violently, slick and pre-come beading from the head and soaking his lower belly.  A soft whine escaped his mouth while he screwed his eyes shut, shifting gently in his seat, causing his bloated lower belly to rub against his swelled member. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as Oscar choked as he moaned, his heart thudding against his ribcage. A small wave of shame and embarrassment washed through the older male as Nigel returned to the table, arching an eyebrow slightly as he stared at the fatter male. Pushing the rising heat to the back of his stomach, the man tried to lean forward, grunting with frustration as his belly refused to move. Oscar tried a few more times, panting heavily as he leaned his head back. Blue eyes shifted down at the large orb and then back at the plate of cake pops. Nigel was beside him, arms tucked behind him with a large smile on his face. 

Using the arms of the chair, Oscar pushed himself forward whining lowly as his lower belly surged forward rubbing harshly against his leaking cock, biting down on his tongue to bite back a moan the male dug his nails into the meat of his palm. Squeezing his eyes shut, Oscar fought the urge to do the action again, feeling his inflated member pressed against his lower belly and thigh. "Having trouble, Osc?" Nigel quizzed, tilting his head to the side. Oscar bit back the curse on the tip of his tongue; instead, he he took a large bite of the dessert. Shooting a glare at the smaller male, nails digging into the arm of the chair. The kitchen was silent for a couple of minutes until the smaller male next to him chuckled lowly. "I know you're in pain, Oscar. I don't like it when my little piglet is hurt. You win." He whispered, stepping closer. 

The critic swallowed the food in his mouth before scarfing the rest of the dessert into his mouth, grunting. Tossing the stick onto the table, the male bucked his hips slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he moaned. Tossing his head back against the chair, the older male sped up his pace, his lust-hazed eyes shifting toward Nigel as he continued. Noticing the smaller male gnawing on his lower lip, hands curled into his fists as his green eyes focused on his wobbling belly. Oscar moaned loudly, sweat pouring from either side of his head as he bucked harder, screaming out as his body seized up while he came on his lower belly. 

Panting heavily while Nigel slowly released his bruised lip, cursing underneath his breath, forcing himself to look away. "Fuck Oscar, if you keep doing shit like that when I feed you, you're going to be the death of me." He panted, with a smirk. "Let's get you into the shower and bed for a nap. I'm exhausted just watching you." He added. 

Chapter Text

Oscar's phone rattled loudly on the nightstand next to him. The male groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his palms. Before untangling himself from the smaller male, he rolled over and scooped the device up. Running a hand through his messy hair as his blurry vision tried to make out the name displayed across the bright screen, blinking a couple of times before sliding his thumb across the screen. "Hello?" He answered groggily, running a hand down his face while slipping into the living room and closing the door behind him to not disturb Nigel.

The other end was silent for a few minutes, but the larger male could hear faint shuffling in the background. The fatter male almost hung up until a shuddered breath followed by a few curses echoed through the receiver before a sigh of relief. "Thank god. I was worried you weren't going to answer me." The woman cried.

Oscar's heart clenched in his chest as he paused in the living room. "Hey, are you okay?" He questioned softly while he padded into the kitchen, flicking on the light before making coffee. When the female on the other end didn't answer him, he tried once more. "What's going on? Were you able to find some more information about the bakery?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Yes and no. I found the company that wants the building, and I tried to talk to them. They want to meet with Nigel to discuss the closing and the possible deal they had written up," she explained.

Oscar crossed an arm over his chest, rolling his eyes. "You and I both know Nigel isn't going to take whatever half-cooked deal they come up with." He said, running a hand down his face. "Have you found anything to help fight their claim?" The critic questioned, turning to pour himself and Nigel coffee.

"Not yet... But I would advise Nigel to meet with them. It will stall them long enough for us to devise a plan." The woman answered.

Oscar took a long sip before adding the cream and sugar. "I'll talk to him, but I doubt that he'll like it." He sighed. They talked for a couple more minutes before the fatter male hung up, tossing his phone onto the counter. Picking up the second cup of coffee and strolling back into the bedroom, he stared down at the sleeping form curled up in the middle of the bed. Exhaling slowly, the older man set both cups down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, mentally wincing as it squeaked loudly beneath his weight. He placed a hand on Nigel's shoulder, shaking it slightly. The smaller man groaned, gently swatting Oscar's hand away, causing the larger man to chuckle. "Come on, Nig, it's time to get up." He whispered, leaning forward and gently picking up the male's cheek.

The baker peeked underneath the pillow. "What time is it?" He asked groggily.

Oscar turned his head toward the clock. "Almost ten." He answered. "I brought a peace offering." He said, holding up the cup and gently shaking it in the air.

The smaller male made a noise in the back of his throat, pushing himself up into a sitting position and snatching the cup from the other male's hand. He took a long sip of his coffee before sighing with relief. "What are you doing up so early?" He questioned it a couple of minutes later.

Oscar felt his mouth fall open slightly as a swirl of emotions started bubbling in his lower stomach. Swallowing the lump in his throat, the critic fidgeted with his fingers for a couple of minutes. "My editor called me." He responded.

Nigel lunged to his knees, almost spilling the hot drink onto himself. His eyes grew owlish as the edge of his lip twitched nervously. "Did she find anything out!?" He demanded, drawing closer to the older male.

The critic rubbed the back of his head, chewing the inside of his cheek, eyes falling onto the bed. "Well, she found the company that wanted to buy the building and talked to them. She said that they're willing to have a meeting with you to discuss a deal that they drew up for you." He explained, slowly studying the smaller male's expression.

Nigel's eyes narrowed slowly, lips pressed tightly together. "Fuck that, they probably want to try and trick me into a lifelong debt or something." He shouted, crawling out of the bed and storming toward the bathroom.

Oscar scrambled off the bed to follow the other male. "I know you don't want to, Nig, and I wouldn't force you. But think about it: if you go and pretend to listen to their deal, it'll give us time to stall and come up with a plan against whatever ridiculous claim they have." He said, placing his foot in the doorway as the baker glared at him.

The smaller male scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You think that loan sharks, or whatever the fuck they are, will fall for that!?" He shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

The larger male relaxed slightly, taking a few steps forward. "I honestly don't know, Nigel. But if we don't come up with something, you'll lose the only thing that matters to you. And I can't let that happen. It's worth a shot," he replied.

Nigel turned his head to face Oscar, tears swelling in the corner of his eyes. "It's not the only thing that's important to me..." He whispered.

Oscar smiled softly, gently cupping his hand over the smaller male's cheek. "I know you're scared, but I need you to trust me. I would never do something intentionally to hurt you." The critic replied. After a couple of minutes of silence, Oscar wrapped his bulky arms around the smaller male. Nigel let out a choked-out sob as he buried his face into the other male's neck, fingers tangling in Oscar's shirt. The critic ran his chubby fingers through the smaller male's hair, inhaling his scent while gently rocking him back and forth. "It's alright, I got you, Nigel. Let it out." He whispered, tightening his grip around the baker while softly petting his head.

Nigel gently pushed himself from the larger male's arms, wiping the tears from his face. A shaky breath escaped his mouth. "I trust you. Let's do it." He replied.

***

Nigel impatiently drummed his fingers on the table. Teeth grinding against his bruised lip as he swallowed the blood and bile in his mouth. He knew that this was a bad idea; the baker had dealt with loan sharks and other types of people like them before. They always caused his stomach to twist into knots and anxiety to gnaw in his chest. The smaller male still didn't remember how he convinced Oscar to stay at the apartment, a small part of him regretting that decision. The other half knew that the fatter male probably wouldn't be able to bite his tongue long enough to get through the business transaction.

A smirk formed on the baker's face at the thought of Oscar mouthing off to whoever the fuck he was meeting. The warm feeling that washed across Nigel's chest quickly vanished as an older male in a dark suit sat across from him. The baker shifted nervously in his chair, grabbed his already cold coffee, and took a long drink while the male fixed his thick black-rimmed glasses. "I'm glad you decided to meet with us." He stated, after clearing his throat.

I didn't want to, but my boyfriend convinced me. Nigel let the sourness in his mouth die out before opening his mouth. "I'm not even sure why I came. I'll hear you out, but don't expect anything to come out of this." He replied.

The businessman studied Nigel for a moment. A soft hum vibrated from the back of his throat. "Right. We'll hopefully agree afterward." He started. The male leaned to the side, pulling a large signing page from his black back, setting it in front of him, and flicking it open. Their eyes scanned the page for a few minutes before holding out the golden pen.

Nigel glanced at the pen and then down at the contract, chewing the inside of his cheek. He already knew what they were offering, and if he were more gullible, the man's plan would have worked. Fortunately, Nigel had sent the contract to his editor, who personally reviewed it after discovering that she had taken night classes in law. Exhaling deeply, the baker set the pen back down on the table and brought his hands together. "Are you even going to tell me about the deal, or do you just assume I'm stupid enough to sign without reading it?" He asked.

The male smirked, clearing his throat once more. "You're a lot smarter than you let on." He said, exhaling loudly and leaning back in his seat. "Very well then, we'll allow you to continue your...business. But I expect you to give us fifty percent of your income." He stated, bringing his hands together as well and setting them in his lap.

Nigel's phone rattled beside him as the phone flashed at him; scooping up his phone The male stared at the screen for a couple of seconds. The baker nodded his head, closed the signing page, and pulled it onto his lap. Watching as the other male's expression flickered from amusement to annoyance before falling back to neutral. Nigel drank the rest of his coffee before tossing it into the trash next to him. "I'll think about it. Thank you for your time." He said, bowing slightly.

The older man waited for a couple of minutes, a large grin forming on his face as he pressed his lips together. His green eyes flicked toward the back of Nigel's head. The baker would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the intensity of those narrowed eyes burning into his neck. "You only have a month before we tear down your building, deed or no deed," he stated. "You have a chance to save your building; it's going to be a hell of a lot easier for you if you'd just take the deal." He continued, pushing himself from his seat and picking up the small bag next to him.

The smaller man swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as his hands shook at his sides. Slowly turning to face the businessman, he asked, “And what happens if I don’t?” Part of him feared the answer and wanted to walk away before the other man had a chance to respond. However, another part of him was too curious; there were only a few things that truly mattered to Nigel.

In a matter of seconds, the man stood in front of Nigel, causing the baker to swear that if he didn’t watch himself, he would think the businessman was supernatural. The smaller man inhaled sharply as his heart jumped into his throat, turning to ice as they stared at each other. "Let’s just say it won’t be just your building that I’d take from you. Partners can be quite a shackle to others if used correctly," he replied.

Anger sparked in the smaller male's chest as he narrowed his eyes. Hands curled into a tight fist as Nigel clenched his teeth tightly. Don't hit him, don't hit him, don't hit him. Minutes passed before the smaller male relaxed slightly. The anger in his chest still puttered inside barely as he shifted from foot to foot nervously. "You're the stupid one if you think that Oscar wouldn't go quietly." He seethed.

The man leaned forward, and Nigel fought the urge to take a couple of steps backward. "Then I suggest that you think really hard about our offer." He answered, fixing his rimmed glasses once more. "We wouldn't want anyone that shouldn't get involved and hurt." The older male added, tipping his head toward Nigel before spinning on his heels and disappearing in the crowd before the baker's eyes.

Chapter Text

~Oscar's P.O.V.~

The critic had not stopped pacing since Nigel left the apartment hours ago, and Oscar's stomach remained clenched from the expression on the baker's face as he kissed him on the cheek before departing. Writhing his hands together while nibbling on his bottom lip, his assistant sat on the couch a couple of feet away, typing on her laptop. The woman sighed, adjusting the thick black glasses resting on her nose. "Can you stop pacing? You're going to burn a hole in your carpet," she demanded. The critic paused mid-step and then glared at the women, huffing softly in response while starting to pace once more. Eyes flicking toward the clock and exhaling loudly, the chubbier male's hands were now trembling while his shoulders coiled with tension. Time seemed to tick by slowly, and Oscar was almost ready to grab his jacket from the hook and try to find the missing baker. "I'm sure he's fine; our plan was flawless." His assistant stated, snapping him out of his train of thought.

Oscar opened his mouth to argue when the front door caused the fatter male to snap his attention toward the door. The tension in his shoulders slowly disappeared as he watched Nigel walk into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the end table in the entryway. Oscar quickly rushed toward the door, wrapping his thick arms around the smaller male, burying his nose into Nigel's hair, and inhaling his scent. The baker smirked softly, putting a hand on the other male's arm. Osar pulled back a couple of minutes later, brows furrowing slightly. "Are you okay? What did they say?" He asked.

Nigel bobbed his head a bit, brushing past the older male, and padded into the living room. Tipping his head toward Oscar's assistant, he plopped down next to her. "First, I am fine. All they did was say some empty threats; they fell for the extension as well, but they won't wait too long." The young baker explained, holding out a hand. He thanked the woman as she handed him a bottle of water and a small bowl of fruit.

Oscar joined them a few minutes later, sitting across from both of them. Leaning forward and stealing an orange slice from Nigel while bouncing his knee softly, "How long do we have?" He spoke quietly.

Nigel bit down on his bottom lip, and Oscar noticed tears pricking the corner of his eyes as he glanced down at the floor. Foot silently, as he sniffled lightly. "They didn't say, just that they'd be watching closely and I should think about my answer or someone will get hurt." The baker answered, voice wavering slightly.

Nigel bit his lower lip, and Oscar observed tears in the corners of his eyes as he looked down at the floor. He sniffled gently and tapped his foot discreetly. "They didn't say, just that they'd be watching closely and I should think about my answer or someone will get hurt." The baker responded, his voice shaking slightly. The smaller male glanced around the room, studying both Oscar and his assistant, pushing himself up from the couch. "Maybe we should just give them what they want. They said I could keep the shop, so it wouldn't be too bad." He argued, throwing out his hands to the side.

The critic raised his hands to his lips, shook his head, and gently moved his gaze toward the other male. "You worked too hard for that bakery, Nigel. We're not going to hand it over to a few thugs." He argued with a harsh sneer.

The smaller male opened his mouth to argue, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Nigel's lip curled into a scowl, his brow knitted fiercely, and the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes began to fall on his pale cheeks. But was interrupted quickly by Oscar's assistant, who cleared her throat loudly and stepped between them, hands on their chests. "Shouting at each other isn't helping the situation either. Now, if you both want to calm down, I have an idea." She snapped sharply. Both men huffed, and Oscar slumped back against the couch, arms crossed over his plush chest, while Nigel did the same. Rolling her eyes, the woman groaned and fixed her glasses again before slowly standing. "It's a long shot, and I don't anticipate it working. But we could attempt reaching out to the original owners who sold Nigel the bakery to gather the necessary documents before the deadline. That's a way the loan sharks have no choice but to back off." The small woman explained, holding out her hand.

Oscar was the first to speak up, adjusting in his seat slightly as he laid his hands on the curve of his abdomen and relaxed somewhat. "I'm guessing you have some sort of clue where they are, or you wouldn't have brought this up." He responded, raising an eyebrow.

The shorter woman hesitated, looking at her laptop for a bit. Oscar could see the gears in her brain turning as she attempted to form the words. After a few minutes, she nodded. "I have a few ideas, yes." She responded.

Nigel groaned, slamming his head back into the couch, the rage in his gut rising to his chest as he hissed loudly, pulling himself from the couch and turning toward Oscar. "How can you sit there and fight for something you don't understand!? You visited the bakery once and insulted me while being a grouch. Did you ever think I didn't need your help?" He yelled, panting gently.

Oscar stood calmly, fists curled into a little fist at his side as he took a few steps forward. He wrapped his large arms around the smaller baker and pulled him into his chest. "I understand you're scared... It's okay. He whispered.

The anger in Nigel's chest suddenly extinguished as hot tears started streaming down his face once more. The baker buried his face in the other male's shoulder, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. "I guess we can try, but I doubt it will work. We don't even know if they're alive or not," he replied lowly.

***

A week went by in a blur, and Oscar's eyes burned from the amount of time he spent looking at his computer screen. He'd sent Nigel back to the bakery to try and distract the smaller male, which worked for a couple of days, but then the baker started coming back to the apartment demanding updates. If the critic had to be honest with himself, he was also starting to have doubts about his assistant's plan. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the male grabbed his empty coffee cup, and then the chubbier male pushed himself off the couch and sauntered into the kitchen, ignoring his stomach bobbing with each step. Oscar placed a hand on the side of his stomach, biting down on his lower lip. He didn't realize his eating had gotten out of control until now. Mentally wincing at the stack of take-out containers as well as dessert containers littering the coffee table. Oscar poured himself some more coffee, adding creamer and sugar quickly before taking a long drink. Exhaling softly as the tension in his shoulder slowly slipped from his body, he hated admitting that engorging himself well past full was his comfort now, but part of the critic didn't care. Waddling back into the living room, the larger male plopped back down onto the couch, taking another long sip of his overly sweet coffee, before finally going back to work.

It felt like hours had passed before the apartment door was abruptly slammed open. Nigel strutted inside, closing the door behind him before striding over to Oscar. "Have you found anything yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning the coffee table for several moments as the corners of his lips twitched slightly. Oscar noticed the mix of desperation and pleasure in the smaller man's voice as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned with a garbage bag, he began cleaning off the coffee table.

Oscar watched him for a moment before turning his attention to his notepad. "I have a couple of numbers and addresses to check out, but other than that, I'm sorry, Nig." He replied, running a hand through his greasy hair.

The younger male paused, staring at Oscar for a long moment before nodding and kissing him on the cheek. He then walked into the kitchen to take out the garbage. A few minutes later, he returned and slumped down next to Oscar. "Have you eaten anything yet?" he asked, quickly changing the subject. Earning a short-curd nod from the larger male, Nigel smiled and turned his attention to his phone, scrolling for a couple of minutes before he ordered pizza and a couple of two-liter bottles of soda. "Should be here soon. Is there anything I can help with?" he quizzed, pocketing his phone.

Oscar looked down at his notepad again. "You can check out some of these phone numbers I found," he suggested, extending the paper. Nigel carefully took the paper and pulled out his phone again to begin with the first item on the list. Afterward, they settled into a comfortable silence. Meanwhile, Oscar searched through the files sent over by his assistant, along with a few addresses she had left, before adding them to the list. They worked well past midnight, and Oscar was beginning to feel exhausted. He groaned as he leaned back against the couch and stretched, revealing a glimpse of his lower belly as his shirt rode up. Oscar noticed Nigel staring, and a small wave of playfulness washed through his chest. When the smaller male quickly looked away, his cheeks were bright red from embarrassment. Rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes, the critic gulped down the rest of his coffee and yawned into his fist. He jolted slightly when a knock came from the door.

Nigel placed his phone and pad onto the coffee table before bouncing off the couch. "It's probably food; I'll get it," he said, racing toward the front door. The baker opened the door, grinning widely at the deliveryman holding three boxes of pizza and a plastic bag of drinks. He quickly took the items, placed them on the kitchen counter, and then paid for the order. After gently closing the door behind him, he began plating the food. Nigel plated four slices and poured a large glass of soda for Oscar while plating two slices and a small cup for himself, walking back into the living room and setting the food down, taking a couple of bites of his food before going back to work.

The critic arched an eyebrow, glancing down at his plate, mentally wincing at the pain that radiated from his stomach. He was full already after his third slice of cake. Nigel wanted him to test for the Easter event at the bakery. But the tingling in the back of his brain caused a wave of giddiness through him as he picked up the plate and took several large bites. Leaning his head back against the couch and burping loudly into his fist, swiftly pushing his already straining sweatpants underneath his lower belly, and watching the pale skin surge forward, engulfing his lap. Oscar made a mental note to step onto a scale tomorrow morning when Nigel wasn't around; as much as the older male wanted to tease his boyfriend, they had to focus on the bakery. Easter was a couple of weeks away, and the younger male was too stressed about which desserts to add to keep up with anything else. Which Oscar was secretly happy about, but he wouldn't tell anyone that.

Two slices turned into four, and Oscar complained, pressing his chubby fingers into the side of his stomach and burping loudly. Quickly downing the rest of his soda, while Ngel slid the half-eaten piece as well as the untouched pizza onto his plate. Oscar opened his mouth to argue but couldn't find himself to as he huffed, picking the setting plate onto the curve of his stomach. "Are you staying over tonight? Or is it going to be another long night at the bakery?" The fatter male quizzed, downing the half-eaten slice quickly.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Oscar barked out a laugh, "I wouldn't mind if you did, but don't expect me to move anytime soon." He replied, slapping the side of his bloated belly for emphasis, watching it wobble violently.

The smaller baker blushed brightly, ducking his head slightly as he exhaled softly. He watched the older man downing the second slice of pizza, pawing at his stomach while whining and panting heavily. "I'll stay..." he whispered. He then turned his attention back to his phone, while the living room was filled with soft snoring just a few moments later. Nigel raised his phone to his ear, listening to it ring and half-expecting it to either go to a disconnected message or voicemail; he knew the caller would never call back. After a few rings, the line clicked, and an older gentleman answered. Nigel felt his eyes widen in surprise, and he had to fight the urge to grab Oscar's hand and shake him awake.

"Hi, is this Mr. Johnson?" 

Chapter Text

Oscar's head snapped toward Nigel, his mouth full of pizza. His eyes widened as he swallowed the food. He tossed the plate onto the coffee table and shifted closer to the larger male, who chuckled softly while gently pushing Oscar's shoulder. "Hi, sir. My name is Nigel. I don't know if you remember me, but you sold me your bakery a couple of years ago, and there seems to be an issue with the paperwork. I know you're probably busy, but I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to meet if possible." He said. Oscar silently groaned, swatting the smaller male's hand away as he tried to get closer, making grabby hands. The other male rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the couch. The older male let out a slightly louder groan as he face-planted into Nigel's spot. Rolling onto his side, one hand draped across his plush side while he reached for the abandoned slice of pizza and began eating once more. Eyes focused on the smaller male who was now pacing in the living room, talking to the previous owners about his situation, small fingers tightly gripping a handful of hair and tugging softly. Uneasiness swelled in the critic's chest as he continued watching Nigel, the food in his mouth felt heavy as his brain was screaming at him to spit it out before Osar threw up. This was their one chance to save the bakery; if this plan didn't work, then Nigel would lose everything.

The critic's nails dug into his side as he glanced down at the half-eaten slice of pizza. He scrunched up his nose in disgust before tossing it back onto the coffee table. After exhaling softly, he pushed himself back into a sitting position. He relaxed his hand slowly, letting it fall beside him on the couch as he took a sip of his drink. A few more minutes passed before Nigel reappeared next to him, leaning his head against the couch as he sighed loudly, arm draped across his face. Oscar glanced down at the other male's grip around his phone, wincing as the device groaned from the pressure. Swollowing the lump that formed in his throat the larger male slid his hand closer toward the baker, gently poking Nigel's hand with his pink and waited a few minutes before entangling their hands together. "What did he say?" Oscar asked.

Five painstaking minutes passed before Nigel slowly moved his arm from his face, as well as his hand around his phone loosened. Head leaning to the side a bit to glance at the older male, the critic could tell tears were swelling in the corners, just threatening to spill over the younger male's eyes at any second. Nigel's attention shot toward his lap as he gently sat straighter, the corners of his lips twitching as he searched for the words. "Mr. Johnson would be more than happy to meet with us and look over the paperwork." He started. The baker fidgeted with his fingers for a couple of seconds before sighing softly, Nigel's shoulders coiling tightly from tension and nerves. "But due to his health, I'd have to fly out to him in Nevada." The baker explained, throwing both hands into the air.

Oscar studied the smaller male for a few moments, smirking softly as the larger male gripped Nigel's wrist and pulled him into his lap, causing the baker to yelp loudly. The critic gently leaned his forehead against the other man's, rubbing his chubby hands along Nigel's shoulders. "That should be easy enough; I can book the ticket and hotel for you," Oscar whispered, lifting his head slightly before beginning to gently pepper Nigel's chin with kisses.

Nigel's cheeks burned with a mixture of emberessment and giddiness. "What if I want you to come with me?" He quizzed in a soft tone.

The older male grinned widely, planting more kisses on the smaller male's chin as well as across the bridge of his nose. "All you have to do is ask, and I'd follow you anywhere." He replied.

If you had asked Oscar which part of the process he thought would be the hardest, he would have said packing. His phone was constantly vibrating loudly on the coffee table where he had left it, while Nigel paced nervously around the apartment, unable to find anything. On top of that, Oscar felt an uneasiness lingering in his stomach. He wasn't quite sure how they managed to get out the front door and into the car parked outside his apartment. If it wasn't for his assistant was already waiting next to the car, one arm wrapped around her tablet while she adjusted her glasses every few seconds, the larger male would have thought it was a fever dream. The critic nodded his head toward the female, swiping the small manilla envelope in her hands, arching an eyebrow toward her assistant. The woman smiled, hugging her tablet. "I gathered everything I could find about the bakery as well as all the paperwork that was filed in the archives. This should be everything, but don't hesitate to call me, and I'll send everything through e-mail." She said.

Oscar smiled warmly, tucking the papers in his jacket pocket. "Thank you, are you sure that you want to stay here? I can book an extra ticket." He asked.

The small woman waved a hand in front of her while shaking her head. "No, no, please. I'd be much more productive if I stayed here, plus you know I can't stomach flying." She argued. They said their goodbyes and climbed into the car; the older male ignored his belly gently brushing against the wheel.

The drive to the airport was silent between the men. Nigel had his head leaned against the cold window, eyes trained on the passing scenery that sped by them. His hands curled into small fists on his lap while the baker gently chewed on his bottom lip. Oscar inhaled and exhaled softly, gliding a hand across the car and gently squeezing the other male's arm for reassurance as they parked the car and rushed to catch their flight.

***

As soon as the pair exited the plane, Oscar felt his stomach twist with anxiety. His hands trembled faintly at his sides as they slowly walked through the airport and grabbed their luggage. Half of the critic knew why he was nervous, they were meeting a stranger, fifteen hours away from their home, asking about paperwork that could or could not be made up. Oscar quickly shook the creeping thoughts to the back of his head, chalking it up to watching too many horror movies. A small part of the critic knew that the older male was just being paranoid. His eyes shifted toward Nigel, who held a neutral expression on his face.

The younger male hadn't spoken since they had gotten in the car. His small, round eyes focused on anything but Oscar. The larger male tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest as he gently brushed his hand against Nigel's, and the baker recoiled. His eyes glanced down at their hands before walking ahead toward the rentals. The critic knew he shouldn't take it to heart, that they'd talk when the younger male was ready.

Sighing Oscar followed close behind Nigel. Packing the trunk of the rental car while the baker climbed into the passenger seat. After the bags were packed the older male climbed into the car. Growling softly as the steering wheel softly pressed against his belly. It felt like hours passed as they drove to the hotel, the anxiety and fear gnawed violently at Oscar's stomach.

Hands tightened around the steering wheel as the male chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on with you? Or are you going to continue ignoring me?" Oscar snapped after ten minutes.

Nigel flinched, ducking his head slightly, as he slowly turned his attention toward the older male. The critic watched the younger male swallow, his hands tightened into balls. "I'm just nervous about meeting with Mr. Johnson Oscar. I'm not ignoring you." He replied.

A spark of anger ignited in the larger male's chest. The critic's blood rushed toward his ears, causing the world around him to seem muffled while his heart thudded against his ribs. "Look, I'm not trying to fight. But you have Nigel, every time I try to touch your hand, you recoil and glare at me like I'm trying to kill you." Oscar responded.

Oscar watched as the tension in the other male's shoulders slowly disappeared. Hands unclenching a bit while Nigel exhaled loudly. "You're right, I'm sorry. I haven't been meaning to ignore you, Oscar, I'm just so scared." He admitted.

The anger in the larger male's chest quickly exhaled, replaced with a flash of sadness. The older male smiled softly, setting a hand on top of Nigel's, running his thumb across the smaller male's knuckles. "It's going to be okay. Even if this plan doesn't work, I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a bakery, Nigel." Oscar soothed, pressing his lips against the back of the baker's hand. By the time both men managed to get to their hotel and check in, they were dead on their feet. Oscar tiredly tossed their bags into the corner of the bedroom, face planting onto the bed. Shortly afterwards, Nigel appeared next to him, following the older male's actions, groaning into the silken sheets. The pair lay there for a couple of minutes, staring at the ceiling, until Oscar was the first to move. Propping himself up on the heels of his hands as he slowly turned his attention toward the other male. "It's getting late, I know you want to get this over with. But we should get some dinner and call it a night." He said, reaching out and running his fingers through Nigel's hair.

Nigel's eyes slipped closed as he leaned into Oscar's hand, humming softly. Minutes passed before the smaller male opened his eyes again. He scanned the hotel room for a couple of seconds before sighing and faintly nodding his head. "Y-Yeah, I guess you're right. Do you want to order while I jump in the shower?" the baker asked, nuzzling the older male's shoulder. Oscar watched as Nigel rolled off the bed and padded toward the bathroom. The critic then grabbed his phone from his pocket and scrolled through the ordering app for a long moment. His stomach growled softly as he browsed through a selection of fancy restaurants, scrunching his nose slightly in response to the prices. After a couple of minutes, he came across a diner that looked appealing and clicked on it. Scanning the menu, Oscar decided to order a club sandwich with fries and a slice of chocolate cake for himself, while he chose chicken strips and fries for Nigel. After pocketing his phone, Nigel exited the bathroom shortly afterward. The baker quickly gave Oscar a peck on the cheek as Oscar slipped off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

While Oscar was in the shower, the younger man quickly got dressed and strolled into the small living room. He grabbed a drink for himself and Oscar from the fridge before picking up the remote from the coffee table. A soft knock came from the door, prompting Nigel to rush over. He grabbed his wallet from the small stand beside the door. After paying for their food, he snatched the plastic bag from the bellhop and thanked him before closing the door with his foot. Smirking, he watched as Oscar padded out of the bedroom, his belly hanging low and swaying with each step. Oscar ran a hand through his damp hair and kissed Nigel on the cheek as he grabbed his food before disappearing into the living room. Tossing the plastic bag into the trash, Nigel quickly followed behind the male dumped down into the seat next to him as they ate silently and watched TV. 

Chapter Text

The next morning was much slower than usual. Nigel was the first to wake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he gently leaned over and kissed Oscar on his chubby cheek. Before pushing himself off the edge of the bed, he padded into the bathroom for a quick shower. Afterward, Nigel quickly gets dressed, staring at the still-sleeping critic before smirking and walking toward the kitchen to order food, then pulling out his laptop and answering emails. The baker worked for a few hours in silence, smiling softly as Oscar shuffled out of the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he disappeared into the kitchen, inhaling a cup of water before reappearing and slumping down next to Nigel. His belly wobbled as the older male's tight white t-shirt rode up slightly, revealing his navel. The younger male forced himself to focus on the computer screen, cheeks burning brightly with shame as his member twitched a bit. "I ordered some breakfast before we have our meeting with Mr. Johnson. I didn't know what you wanted, so I just ordered some breakfast burritos." Nigel said. The older male nodded his head slowly, leaning his head down against the other male's shoulder. Nigel smirked, running his thin fingers through the critic's messy hair before turning his attention back toward his laptop as soft snoring filled the hotel room shortly afterward.

After the pair ate breakfast, Oscar waddled back into the bedroom to get dressed while Nigel typed the address into his phone. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter before slipping on his shoes at the small entryway. After the older male was dressed, they both exited the hotel, loaded into the rental car, and then began driving. The drive through the city was silent. Nigel watched in awe as the bright neon signs of different stores and casinos illuminated the pinkish-orange-colored sky. "Maybe if we have time before going home, we can explore the city." The baker suggested turning his attention toward the fatter male.

Oscar smirked, "Sure, we'll have a lot of celebrating to do anyway." He answered. If the older male was honest, he wasn't even sure if this plan of theirs would work. A small part of him worried that whoever Nigel had been talking to was secretly someone who worked for the loan shark. Or maybe a third bidder is just taking advantage of the baker. But the other half had faith in his partner, trusting Nigel's intuition about his supposed Mr. Johnson. Mentally wincing when the smaller male set a hand on his thigh, gently squeezing with a large smile.

Nigel gently traced his finger over a couple of holes in Oscar's sweatpants, causing the male to bite back a moan as he tightened his grip around the steering wheel. "I was also thinking I could make you a celebratory dinner for everything you've done for me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, Oscar." He whispered, gently pecking the fatter male on the cheek. Oscar's cheeks burned brightly pink as he let out a soft squeak, eyes turning owlish as his thigh jerked violently, causing the other male to laugh once more. The baker gently patted the older male's leg, turning his attention back out the window, watching the scenery pass by them quickly. They drove for another ten minutes silently before Oscar pulled into a run-down apartment complex. The older male scanned the empty parking lot, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Are you okay?" Nigel quizzed, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah. Let's get this over with."

Oscar followed closely behind Nigel; the wooden stairs creaked under his weight, sending a small wave of anxiety down his spine. Sweat poured down either side of the older male's head as he panted heavily, leaning against the railing, "Come on, tubby, we're almost there." Nigel called from the top of the stairs. A sharp spike of pleasure coursed through the critic as Oscar whined lowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt before shuffling up the stairs. By the time they reached the fifth floor, Oscar's shirt was soaked with sweat, cheeks pink with exhaustion, while gulping down large mouthfuls of air while leaning against the dirty wall. Nigel watched the heaving man for a moment; the older male turned his attention toward the smaller male, smirking softly, and waved a hand toward him.

The baker spun on his heels and quickly skipped down the hallway happily, knocking on the molded apartment door, then took a few steps back and waited. The hallway grew silent, and if Nigel was honest with himself, he was starting to doubt the whole trip when the apartment door slowly creaked open. Shortly afterward, a skinny older man hobbled out of the shadows, his gray hair receding from his head. Tired grey eyes stared at Nigel for a couple of minutes before softening into a smile. Nigel's hands trembled at his side a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and the baker swallowed thickly.

A few minutes of silence passed before the older male spoke. "You must be Nigel; please come in. I've prepared tea." Mr. Johnson beamed, slowly turning on the heels of his feet, disappearing further into the apartment. Nigel glanced down the hallway, his lips pressed into a thin line as he gazed into the dimly lit corridor. Exhaling slowly before stepping over the threshold, he closed the door softly behind him. His eyes took in the dusty walls filled with various family photos as he walked into the living room, slowly lowering himself onto the couch. A few minutes passed before the older male emerged from the kitchen, stumbling into the living room. "I apologize for the mess; I am getting ready to move across the country to live with my daughter. With my wife gone, the house has become too quiet for my liking. I'm also not as young as I used to be." Mr. Johnson informed him, holding out a small teacup.

Nigel nodded his head, "I'm sorry for your loss." The baker whispered, his eyes falling onto his lap. The younger male took a long gulp of the brown liquid while humming softly. After ten more minutes of idle talk, Mr. Johnson periodically replenished Nigel's cup and eventually placed a small plate of cookies on the table. The baker finished his tea and sighed after eating a few and saving the remainder for Oscar. I don't mean to be impolite, but I'm a little rushed, sir. You claimed to have located your wife's bakery's old records. After placing the teacup on the coffee table, the baker answered.

Mr. Johnson took a couple of sips of his tea, glancing around the living room. "Oh yes, I'm sure I have them somewhere. After you called, I made sure to set them aside so I wouldn't lose them in the move." He explained. "But to be honest, I have so many piles I lost track of them; please enjoy your tea while I look around." The older gentleman said, waving a hand toward Nigel. Before pushing himself off the couch and hobbling toward a tall pile of files. Tracing a finger down the spines of the folders, muttering underneath his breath, before pulling a thick file from the pile. Walking back toward the couch while holding out the dusty brown file. Nigel swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared at the thick folder, hands shaking as he reached out and set it onto his lap. Mr. Johnson silently sat back down in his large chair next to Nigel, sipping his tea slowly.

As he cautiously opened the folder and looked over the crumpled documents, the baker's heart pounded against his ribs. Nigel felt as though hours had gone by before he finally found the contract; tears stung the corner of his eyes, and his lip wobbled a little. He folded the necessary documents carefully, put them in his pocket, closed the folder, and then placed it back on the coffee table. "T-Thank you." The smaller man sobbed, his pale face smeared with tears.

The older male chuckled lowly, setting a wrinkled hand on top of Nigel's. A soft chuckle was emitted from the older male as he spoke. "My wife loved that little bakery. If I can help you keep her dream alive, then I'm more than happy to help." He answered.

The tears that were swelling in Nigel's eyes worsened as he continued sobbing. Mr. Johnson simply sat beside him, keeping a hand on top of the baker's until he finally wiped the tears with the back of his hand. Inhaling sharply while his lip wobbled uncontrollably, once Nigel calmed down, he thanked the older male for the tea and cookies before walking toward the doorway. Waving one last goodbye at the older gentleman before slipping out of the front door, a mixture of relief and giddiness washed through the older male as he slowly sauntered down the poorly lit hallway, hands clenched around the folded documents in his hoodie. A smirk formed on the younger male's face as he stared at the empty spot where Oscar was. Shaking his head as he ran a hand through his messy hair. A large part of Nigel wanted to scream with joy. Everything was going to be alright now; the loan sharks wouldn't be able to buy his bakery, and his and Oscar's relationship was still slightly rocky, but they were figuring it out.

Another part of the baker wanted to jump up and down like a little kid, but the small nagging voice in the back of his head stopped him. Nigel sighed, shoulders relaxing finally as the younger male made his way down the creaking staircase. Climbing into the driver's seat of the car and chuckling lowly when he noticed that the older male was asleep. Nigel stared at the older male, fighting the urge to take out his phone and take a picture. Osar was leaning against the window, cheek squished against his shoulder, while his chubby fingers were gently pressed into the curve of his stomach. Oscar's shirt was rolled up to his navel, revealing the large strip of pale flesh as his belly slowly rose and fell as he slept. Nigel started the car, jolting the older male awake. Oscar snapped his head toward the baker, relaxing slightly when he recognized the other male. Sitting up fully while rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning loudly. "H-How did it go? Was the old man able to help us?" He quizzed groggily.

The baker pulled a tiny stack of documents from his sweatshirt pocket and waved them in the air. "More than helped." The younger man smiled and protruded his tongue at the older man. "I told you he wasn't going to murder me." He joked.

Oscar huffed, rolling his eyes, while leaning his head against the window once more. "You won't be laughing when one of these times you run into a serial killer. You'll be wishing I warned you more." He quipped back quickly.

The younger male barked out a laugh, pulling out of the driveway and starting to head toward town once more. "You've been watching way too many murder mysteries, Osc," Nigel said, gently hitting the older male on the shoulder with the stack of papers.

"So now what?"

Nigel hummed, "I've always wanted to try Basque cuisine, so I was considering grabbing dinner first. If you're not too exhausted, we may then go exploring; if not, we can always have a full party tomorrow." The baker recommended.

Oscar leaned back in his seat, hands resting on the curve of his stomach as the male yawned once more. "Well, you know I'm always down for some food." The critic smirked, running a hand down his belly. "But to be honest, walking up all those stairs tired me out, so I kind of want to go back to the hotel and sleep." The older male added,.

Nigel smiled softly, leaning over and gently patting the top of Oscar's belly. "Of course, love, let's get you fed and into bed." He whispered. 

Chapter Text

Nigel was the first to enter the hotel. His eyes scan the living room, and the corner of his lip twitches when he notices the three plastic bags on the coffee table. Nigel pulled the larger male in the apartment, tossing his keys and shoes into the corner before pulling Oscar into the living room. While the older male peeled off his boots and jacket, the baker slumped into the couch, scooping the TV remote from the coffee table and flicking through the channels for a few minutes until he found a movie. Shortly afterward, Oscar slumped down next to Nigel, the couch squeaking softly from the critic's weight as he leaned back slightly, hands resting on the curve of his stomach. "I ordered a ton of different stuff; whatever we don't finish, we can save for tomorrow before we head back home." He grinned. After Nigel found a movie, he tore into the bag, holding out a food container and a bottled soda before snapping open the clamshell and starting to eat his Chinese. The larger male smiled back, patting his stomach as he growled softly, and then nodded his head slightly before the critic started eating his food. They ate silently. At some point during the movie, Nigel leaned his head against Osar's plush arm, eyes watching him eat for a couple of minutes before scraping the other half of his meal into the critic's food container. Oscar chuckled lowly, wrapping a large arm around the smaller male's waist as he continued eating.

The first container of food was devoured quickly, and Oscar tilted his head back, exhaling sharply as he let out a loud burp into his fist. The overweight male slightly spread his legs, allowing his large belly to rest comfortably between them. The bottom of Oscar's stomach pressed against the cool couch, while his upper belly spilled over his lap, taking up half of it as he burped again, groaning softly. He let out a small groan as Nigel stroked his large belly, kissed him on the cheek, and assisted Oscar in finishing his first bottle of soda. The baker gently snaked a hand underneath the tight t-shirt, grabbing a small handful of pudge, and softly started massaging, smirking as the older male leaned his head back, eyes slowly closing. The smaller male patted the large globe, watching it wobble for a few seconds before leaning forward and grabbing a second clamshell of food, popping open the lid, and then setting it on the large curve of Osar's stomach. "You can't be full yet; I bought you all this food. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you?" Nigel was quizzed.

Oscar felt his cheeks flush while a warm sensation spread in the critic's lower stomach. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as they locked eyes, swallowing hard. His hands trembled slightly as he gave a faint nod, parting his lips just as Nigel took a generous forkful of food and offered it to him. The baker continued feeding the older man for several minutes before he turned to his own meal. The living room settled into a comfortable silence as Oscar managed to finish his second helping of food before the movie ended. He groaned softly as a loud burp echoed off the walls. The critic's head lolled to the side, his hazy eyes observing as the tight t-shirt clung awkwardly to his large, pale belly, rolling up slightly as he shifted. “Is your shirt getting too tight?” the baker asked with a grin. “My little piglet is already outgrowing his clothes. We're going to have to get you a whole new wardrobe when we get home.” Nigel said. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he cooed softly as his small fingers grasped the hem of his shirt.

The younger male's eyes flicked down toward the critic's round boobs, reaching over and gently cupping a hand around Oscar's breast and softly squeezing. Earning a loud gasp, the heat from Osar's lower belly coursed its way further down, and as the critic jumped slightly, the curve of his stomach bounced against his moobs. Nigel smirked mischievously as he leaned forward, lips pressed against the pale flesh, and then gently bit down and sucked. "Fuck! Nigel!" Oscar screamed, hand flying toward the smaller male's hair, grabbing a small fistful and quickly tugging. The larger male curled his toes, digging his heels into the carpet as he moaned lowly. Minutes passed before Nigel finally lifted his head, tracing a finger along the already bruising skin before gently kissing the hickey. Oscar pouted slightly, cheeks bright pink with embarrassment, as he turned his head away from the male. "Jerk..." he muttered.

Nigel threw his head back and laughed, pushing himself away from the older man. "Come on, don't pout. You don't look cute with your face all scrunched up like that," he said, his smirk growing. Then, the smaller male draped himself across Oscar's belly and purred, "I prefer to hear you moaning instead." Oscar squeaked, his pink cheeks flushing even brighter. Silent minutes passed before Nigel began to chuckle softly. He gently pushed himself up, saying, "I forgot how cute you look in pink." He planted a kiss on Oscar's chubby cheek before turning his attention to the small stack of food. "Do you think you can handle more, or should I give you your reward now?" he asked.

"M-More...P-Please..."

Nigel nodded, grabbing another clamshell of food and holding it out for Oscar, who gently accepted it. The baker switched to another movie, and they ate in silence once more. Three clamshells turned into six, and before Oscar had a chance to argue with the baker, six turned into eight. Oscar knew he was well past full; the tightness in his belly sent waves of both pain and pleasure through his body. The critic's excitement grew as he spread his legs wider, his large, bloated belly taking up most of his lap and knees. The already stretched fabric of Oscar's sweatpants tore further before his eyes, revealing his expanding thighs, which were marked with bright pink stretch marks. The larger male bit back a moan as his thick hands ran down his large belly, his member twitching violently as the male burped into his fist. The living room was filled with Oscar's soft panting, his cheeks dusted pink, as his pleasure-hazed eyes flicked toward the empty, torn plastic bags. His dick pressed against his tight boxers already leaking pre-cum as Oscar bit down on his tongue to keep himself from touching himself as well as moaning. "I'm getting so fat; I ate everything without even thinking." The older male thought, his gaze slowly traveling down toward his taut belly. "Let's be real, I'm well past fat with how much I've been eating lately." He added, leaning his head back against the couch, panting heavily.

Nigel inhaled sharply, sucking on his teeth as he studied the older man for a couple of minutes. He glanced down at his half-eaten food, then at the stacked, dirty, empty containers and soda bottles piled on the coffee table. The baker's eyes slowly shifted to the straining waistband of Oscar's sweatpants. He bit down gently on his bottom lip as he watched Oscar place his hands on either side of his overly bloated belly, softly digging his fingers into the pink, taut flesh while burping and groaning loudly. Nigel's dick leapt in his tight jeans as the critic leaned back against the couch, releasing a low, guttural moan. He bit down harder on his lower lip, causing coppery blood to spill into his mouth. Forcing his gaze to his lap, Nigel took a few more bites of his food before holding it up. The smaller male watched as the critic's head slowly turned toward him, his glazed eyes locking onto Nigel for a few seconds. Then, the larger male snatched the container from Nigel and shoveled food into his mouth. The smaller male sat frozen for a few seconds before setting a hand on the other male's stomach. Gently massaging the overly taut skin as Oscar continued eating. "Don't force yourself, Osc; I don't want you to get sick." The baker whispered.

Oscar hated that Nigel was right. The older male placed the food container on his leg, swallowing the food in his mouth. The smaller male smirked as he took the container from the larger male and set it back on the coffee table. "I will admit, though, that was pretty hot," he purred, curling himself against Oscar's side. The smaller male stayed there for a few minutes before lifting his head and smiling widely. "I guess I can't call you my little piglet anymore; you're more of a big fat hog," he teased, gently pinching one of Oscar's fat rolls that protruded from his sides. Oscar yelped softly, causing the other male to chuckle as he draped a hand over Oscar's stomach, pressing against his side and resting his chin on the larger male's shoulder. Nigel's warm breath made Oscar shiver, and he swallowed thickly as Nigel continued, "How about I give you your reward now, since you've been such a good boy for me?"

A low whine emitted from the older male's throat as his hazed eyes stared at the smaller male. "P-P-Please." He rasped. Nigel pushed himself off the couch, taking hold of Oscar's hand. Once the critic was on his unsteady feet, they waddled into the bedroom. The baker peppered Oscar's cheeks and chin with kisses, peeled his tight clothing off, and watched as Oscar gently kicked them into the corner. Nigel then gently pushed the critic down onto the bed, ignoring the loud creaking of the wood. Climbing into bed, Nigel straddled Oscar's lap. Fingers gently traveling up Oscar's chest, circling the dark hickey on the older male's moob, leaning forward as he gently nibbled on the older male's bottom lip, causing Oscar to whine softly. "C-Come on, Nig, d-don't tease me." Oscar sobbed, grinding his hips against Nigel's pelvis. Wordlessly, Nigel's lips moved toward Oscar's perked nipple, flicking a tongue over it a few times as the critic writhed underneath him, heels digging into the sheets as he let out a breathless moan. With one hand, Nigel pinched the older male's nipple, while quickly wrapping his tongue around the other nipple and began suck. Oscar gasped loudly, cursing under his breath while flinging his head back against the pillow. The critic's hands gripped the pillow behind him tightly as he screwed his eyes closed, moaning loudly.

A few minutes passed before Nigel came up for air, watching Oscar gulp down mouthfuls of air as his moans melted into low whines. "Sing for me, baby." The baker whispered, his slender fingers trailing down the other male's thick thighs, continuing further down until he gently prodded Oscar's wet hole. "Fuck, baby, you're already soaking." He stated, slowly pushing two fingers into the larger male. Nigel gently pumped his fingers, watching as the male writhed and moaned, before adding a third finger, amusement dancing in his eyes as Oscar arched his back, hips bucking into the younger male's fingers.

"N-N-Nig, fuck, I'm close!"

"I've got you, baby. Come for me," Nigel whispered. The smaller man felt a chuckle rising in his throat as he gently dug his fingers into Oscar's hip. Sweat trickled down either side of the older man's face as Nigel added a fourth finger, prompting Oscar to let out a high-pitched whine. He bucked against Nigel's hips, large strings of white fluid covering Oscar's chest. The room was filled with both of their heavy breaths. Nigel slowly crawled off the fatter male, smirking as he glanced at his fingers before sticking them inside of Oscar's mouth. "Now be a good boy and clean daddy's fingers," he demanded. It felt like time seemed to slow down around them as the pair stared at each other for a few seconds. Before a small smirk formed on the older male's face, and started sucking the smaller male's fingers. The baker settled next to the larger male, his small fingers carting through Oscar's messy hair.

"That's my good boy." 

Chapter Text

Oscar hoped to enjoy one last day of relaxation before heading home, but Nigel, as usual, pushed him to his limits, testing the critic's patience. Although it wasn't entirely unpleasant, it was undeniably exhausting. Ever since they managed to get the paperwork, Nigel has changed—not in a bad way, but enough for Oscar to start noticing. For one thing, the baker has become clingier and more affectionate, often wrapping his thin arms around Oscar whenever he gets the chance. He also tends to grab and massage Oscar's plump belly whenever they are close together. The smaller male has also discovered his sex drive. Whenever Nigel was behind the older male, he would squeeze Oscar's neck or pepper it with kisses, his hands trailing down Oscar's belly and hovering teasingly above his crotch. The critic's cheeks turned pink at the mere thought, quickly shaking the thought to the back of his head as he slid out of bed. Padding into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed and walking into the living room, noticing that the younger male was missing.

Anxiety bubbled in the critic's chest as he continued through the apartment, mouth curved into a frown, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Exhaling softly, the male ran a hand through his damp hair, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and quickly chugged it. Burping loudly, the critic scratched the large curve of his stomach, ignoring the soft growls emitted from the large orb. Oscar placed a hand on his stomach and looked around the kitchen again before taking a couple of eggs from the fridge. He was still full from last night, but the older male wasn't sure he'd be able to wait until Nigel got home from whatever he was doing. After grabbing a pan from the cupboard, the critic melted the butter, cracked the eggs into a bowl, stirred them, and poured the mixture into the hot pan. After a few minutes, Oscar added salt and pepper, along with a handful of ham and cheese. He let the eggs cook for a couple of minutes before setting the pan aside.

Then, he tossed a couple of tortillas onto the burner. After the tortillas browned, Oscar took them off the heat and added his egg mixture before rolling them into breakfast burritos. Taking a large bite of one of the burritos and shuffling into the living room, slumping on the couch, and ignoring the loud creaking. The critic spread his legs slightly to let his stomach rest comfortably on his lap, while his lower belly spilled between his legs, covering the couch below him. Oscar ate silently, eyes trained on the TV, burping into his fist as he scarfed down the rest of the first burrito. The second breakfast burrito went down quickly; by the third, Oscar buried his hand underneath his massive belly, panting slightly as he shoveled another bite into his mouth. The older male hummed softly, gulping down air as he stared up at the ceiling. His brain was too clouded with pleasure to register the stinging pain in his sides.

A few minutes passed before Oscar quickly scarfed down the rest of the food, groaning loudly. He burped into his fist, leaning his head back against the couch as he rubbed his hands over his taut skin. A wave of pleasurable pain surged through his spine, making him shiver slightly. His glazed eyes drifted down to the tight T-shirt that clung to his large belly. The fabric was already developing large holes around the hem and collar, and the faded image was marred by smaller holes scattered across it, exposing Oscar's pale skin. The weight of his breasts pressed together, causing his nipples to gently brush against the soft fabric, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Oscar inhaled softly, groaning slowly as his thick fingers gently dug into his side, wincing as a sharp pain shot across his stomach.

I may have overdone it. Biting down on his bottom lip, Oscar let his head tilt to the side. Minutes seemed to slip by, and as time passed, it felt like all the energy in the older man was suddenly drained away. His hands, which had been massaging his overly bloated stomach, slowed slightly. The critic's eyes slowly closed, and his labored breathing echoed through the small apartment. Soon after, Oscar's hand slid off his large belly and fell to his side with a soft thump. The older man's brain didn't register the sound of the door opening and softly clicking shut. Light footsteps reverberated off the paper-thin walls, and shortly after, a soft chuckle came from the doorway. "Looks like you tried to stuff your face again. You couldn't even wait for me to get home, little piglet?" Nigel sighed. The younger male gently set the plastic bags onto the kitchen counter, tossed his shoes off, and padded further into the apartment. He set his keys into the bowl on the coffee table and then placed his hands on his hips, pouting slightly and shaking his head while running a hand through his hair. "What am I going to do with you?" He breathed softly.

Nigel scooped the empty plate from the spot next to the larger male, leaned forward, and quickly kissed Oscar on his fat cheek. Chuckling under his breath as the critic whined in his sleep, batting at the air for a couple of seconds before settling down once more. The baker dropped the plate off into the sink, making a mental note to wash the dishes before they left, and padded toward the bedroom, jumping into the bathroom for a quick shower. Afterward, Nigel changed his clothes and then grabbed the large throw blanket from the bed. Waddling back into the living room, I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and then finally curled against Oscar's side. Draping half of the blanket over the larger male before he started flicking through the channels to find something to watch.

***

Nigel turned to glance at the clock above the TV before looking back at Oscar, who was still snoring loudly beside him. At some point, Nigel pushed the baker away and curled into a small ball. His arm draped over the couch arm, and his cheek was pressed against a drool-covered pillow. The baker smirked, running his fingers through the older male's hair before gently pushing himself off the couch and walking toward the kitchen counter. Chewing his bottom lip as he took out the small plastic dog muzzle and leather cuffs from the plastic bag, giddiness bubbled in the male's chest as his hands trembled, fingers brushing against the soft dog ears and tail. Nigel exhaled softly, laughter lodged in his throat as he continued pulling out a couple of smaller store-bought cake slices.

Laying them next to the row of items. A small wave of anxiety and fear also washed through the baker's chest. Swallowing thickly, his eyes shifted back towards the sleeping figure behind him. The younger male had been planning this for months now. He meant to bring the topic up earlier, but then the loan sharks got in the way. Threatening Nigel's life's work, which only fueled the anxiety that wavered through the smaller male. Unable to calm himself down as different thoughts lingered in the back of his head.

If Nigel had to be honest with himself, ever since the baker talked himself into putting his plan into action tonight, too many thoughts swirled in his head. The main was Oscar thinking it was too weird, and this was going to be the final straw before realizing what Nigel put him through was too much. The younger male rubbed the back of his head, shaking the thought to the deep part of his brain. They have done weirder things, and Oscar never left; if the critic wanted to leave, he would have by now.

The younger male glanced down at the row of items once more. Grabbing the three cake slices from the counter and then setting them into the fridge, staring at the four remaining food containers from last night before glancing back towards the clock, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was only a few minutes away from being lunchtime, and Oscar was sure to be hungry when he smelled food and demanded that the baker feed him. Nigel stared down at his phone, tapping it against his chin a couple of times before stuffing the device back into his pocket.

Snatched the four food containers from the back of the fridge and set them on the counter. And then afterwards, grabbed the leftover uncooked rice and eggs, dumping both of the chow mein onto a plate, and then finally shoved it into the microwave. It would have to do for now. Nigel wasn't planning on making a very big lunch to begin with, just something to tide Oscar over before dinner and hopefully the big event. A few minutes passed before the microwave beeped loudly, snapping the male out of his train of thought. Wincing softly as his eyes slowly shifted back towards the sleeping lump soundly sleeping on the couch.

Nigel continued down the line of food containers, stabbing a plastic fork in the middle of each plate before sticking them into the oven to keep warm. Once the food was heated up, tapping his foot gently against the tiled floor, the younger male writhed his hands together for a few minutes before exhaling loudly. Trembling fingers running through his messy hair once more. "Fuck it." The baker muttered under his breath. There was no way the younger male would be able to wait until dinner. The anxiety and excitement were pooling in Nigel's chest; the baker was pretty sure if he waited any longer, he might explode.

Nigel quickly gathered the items off the kitchen table and padded toward the bedroom, setting the plates down onto the nightstand next to the bed, while Muzzle and other things were placed into the bed. The baker took a couple of breaths before he sauntered back into the living room, inching closer toward the couch. As Nigel stared at the larger male, all the anxiety seemed to disappear as a soft smirk formed on Nigel's face.

Crouching down, the baker gently placed a hand on the other man's shoulders and shook him softly. "Osc, I made lunch," he whispered, waiting a few moments before shaking Oscar again. "Come on, Oscar, you don’t want the food to go to waste, do you?" Nigel teased lightly.

The older male groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes for a few seconds. Before starting at Nigel, he groggily groaned slightly louder before rolling over to face the back of the couch. "Five more minutes..." The critic complained loudly, waving a hand towards the younger male.

The baker cackled loudly, tossing his head back as he sat on the edge of the couch. "If we wait five minutes, then the food will get cold and you'll miss out on your surprise." Nigel coaxed lowly, patting Oscar's pudgy side.

Oscar's ears perked up as the larger male turned his head slightly, eyebrow arched. "Food?" He parroted back.

Nigel snorted and pushed himself back to his feet, hands on his hips. "Of course, that's what grabs your attention," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. The baker watched as the other male rubbed the sleep from his eyes before forcing himself upright with a grunt. The younger male helped Osar to stand. Nigel stayed behind the larger male as the critic waddled into the bedroom, tired eyes scanning the room before resting on the items on the bed. Nigel shuffled beside him, biting his lip and ducking his head slightly. "I-I-I was thinking we could try something new," he stammered, nervously picking at his nails.

Oscar was silent for the longest moment, scratching his stomach before turning his attention to Nigel. "Sure, whatever you want, baby," he replied softly, climbing into the bed. Nigel's heart raced as he observed the other man fluffing his pillows before tossing them behind his head. He shifted slightly, his belly spilling forward and to the sides, hovering above the bed.

The baker moved closer, scooping up the pillows and setting them aside. He then turned his attention to the four plates on the nightstand, smirking as the critic's stomach growled hungrily. Swallowing thickly, Nigel crawled into bed, positioning himself in between the critic's thick thighs, running a hand down the stretched fabric. Before leaning forward and gently kissing up Oscar's thigh, up toward his lower belly, causing the larger male to gasp. Nigel gently pulled Oscar's sweatpants down, followed by his boxers, leaned forward, and grabbed the lube from the drawer. "Before you start eating, we need to make sure you look the part." He whispered, slathering lube across his three fingers. Using one to probe the other male for a few seconds before slowly inserting his finger. Oscar gasped louder, leaning his head back against the pillow, letting out a low moan. After a few minutes of pumping, Nigel added a second digit, observing the critic screw his eyes shut tightly, fingers digging into the sheets next to him. "N-Nig, f-" The older male gasped, digging his heels into the bed while arching his back.

Nigel wordlessly started pumping faster, shortly afterward adding a third finger into Oscar's leaking hole. Minutes passed before the baker slipped his fingers out of the other male's, a chuckle bubbling in his throat as the critic keened lowly. The younger male leaned to the side, grabbing the husky dog's tail plug and tracing his fingers over the cool metal. Eyes flicking over toward the larger male, who shifted nervously, cheeks dusted pink, while Nigel slowly prodded the plug against him. Oscar squeaked, body jerking slightly, before moaning loudly when Nigel inserted the plug. Leaning back, Nigel stared down at the soft tail, running his fingers through the faux fur and purring lightly.

"Such a perfect fit, you look so cute. My good boy." The baker was praised. Nigel gave his hips an experimental wiggle, letting out a loud squeak while biting down on his lower lip, cheeks bright pink and eyes hazed over with pleasure. Nigel gently straddled the other male's lap, spinning the ears in his hands a few times before clipping them in the critic's hair. The baker smiled softly, softly rubbing the ears while his other hand massaged Oscar's stomach, earning a short purr from the critter. "Why don't you start eating while I get you prepped?" Nigel suggested, nudging his head toward the nightstand with a mischievous smirk. Oscar whined lowly, his tired eyes flicked toward the nightstand before grabbing the first plate with a shaky hand. Nigel watched the male for a couple of minutes, waiting patiently as the older male shakily shoveled a large forkful of food into his mouth. The baker waited for Oscar to swallow before pulling out the sleek black remote from his pocket, the smile on his face growing wider as the critic's eyes turned owlish. "If you can finish two plates without touching yourself or coming, I'll reward you," Nigel said.

Oscar swallowed the food in his mouth, wide eyes slowly glancing at the plate and then back at Nigel. Before nodding softly, he shoveled two more forkfuls into his mouth while the baker flicked the remote on, turning the vibration up to the second level. The critic let out a choked sob as his cock twitched violently; pre-come leaked from the older male's member as he forced himself to focus on the plate sitting on the curve of his stomach. The rest of the first plate went down smoothly. Nigel quickly turned the plug off, gently running a hand over Oscar's large belly, watching the older male shiver violently. "N-N-Nig, please...I-I-Iet me come." The critic begged, sobbing, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as his shaking hands tightened around the sheets underneath him. Blood beaded along Oscar's swollen lips, his head buried deeply into the pillow behind him as a weak cry escaped his mouth. "I-I-I-I need to come." He continued, draping an arm over his face.

The younger male exhaled softly. "Come on now, don’t hide from me, darling," Nigel whispered as he gently moved the other man's arm. "You only have one more plate to finish, and I’ll let you come. Don't you want to be my good boy?" The baker continued to rub the dog's ears gently. Time seemed to slow around them as Oscar released a shuddered breath, grabbing the second plate from the nightstand and yelping loudly as Nigel turned the vibrator up another two levels. Osar slammed his head against his pillow as his trembling hands snapped back toward his sides, digging into the pillow behind him as the hot tears filling the corner of his eyes spilled down his face. Hips shaking as the older male curled his toes tightly, breathy moans bouncing off the paper-thin walls. Nigel made a mental note to send an apology basket to his neighbors. Heat pooled in the baker's lower stomach as he watched the older male writhe underneath him, begging Nigel to permit him to come while his hips ground against the plug.

The male ran his tongue across his lip, while his trembling hand reached down and unzipped his jeans, moaning in relief as his aching cock. "F-Fuck, baby." He gasped, fumbling to unbutton his jeans, and then began stroking himself. Oscar's cries grew louder while his hips started bucking harder. Nigel glanced down at the abandoned remote, scrambling to pick it up from the bed, and turned the vibrator all the way up, letting out a moany yelp as Oscar came against his chest, while large strings of cum shot from Nigel, coating his hands and the sheets with his own come.

The apartment was filled with both of their heavy breathing as Nigel slumped to the side, turning the remote off. The critic squeezed his eyes shut, draping his sweat-coated arm over his eyes. "S-S-S-Sorry...." Oscar gasped.

Nigel gently patted the other male's leg, chuckling. "I-I-I-It's okay; I didn't think you'd be able to make it through the whole session anyway." He replied. "Besides, I can always punish you when we get home." He grinned.

Oscar shot a glare at the younger male underneath his arm. "M-M-Maybe I want to punish you for a change." He challenged.

"S-S-Sure, whatever you say, baby."

Chapter Text

Oscar glanced down at his plane ticket and then slowly looked back at Nigel, who was still packing his suitcase. Nigel trudged around the small hotel room, leisurely picking up clothes and chargers, stuffing them into his already overflowing luggage. They both knew this day was coming, and the critic would be lying if he said he was ready for the bloodbath that awaited them. If the older male had his way, they'd never return home and hide away in their small hotel room, enjoying each other's presence. As well as maybe Nigel continuing to indulge in the critic's overeating habits. But that wasn't in the cards. Oscar knew that the baker wouldn't give up on his little bakery back home; he'd miss the atmosphere too much, as well as the customers who had supported them throughout the years. It was too selfish to ask that much of Nigel, so Oscar continued to keep his thoughts to himself while watching the younger male continue sauntering around the room as slowly as humanly possible. The older male drummed his fingers patiently on the table, chin tucked into his hand, while his almond-shaped eyes followed the smaller male around the room. Glancing down at his phone, which was a few inches next from his hand, while chewing on his bottom lip.

At one point, the baker left the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed some leftover food that he thought would survive the trip and stuffed it into his backpack. Oscar couldn't help but let out a sigh, leaning his head back slightly to stare at the popcorn plaster, as if it were more interesting. "Are you sure we need all this stuff, Nig? If we forget anything, we can just have someone mail it, love. We're going to miss our flight." He questioned, keeping his gaze towards the ceiling.

Oscar couldn't see the expression on the other man's face, but a chill ran down his spine as Nigel turned his head toward him. "I want to make sure we have everything," he said calmly. "It costs too much to have anything shipped. Besides, I don't want to wait four months for my shirts to get back home or risk someone stealing them."

The older male ran a hand through his messy hair, nodding his head faintly. "If you say so, love." He muttered, letting his head fall back down into his hand. Another ten minutes slowly ticked by as Nigel continued to pack, and as time trickled by, the more Oscar's stomach tied into a knot. Half of him knew that the younger male probably didn't even realize he was stalling; the baker was just being cautious and wanted to try and savor as much of the memories the couple shared in the two weeks they'd been here. But a small part of Oscar couldn't stop the small voice in the back of his head; he wanted to be supportive since this was a big deal for both of them. Nigel was more than him, but at the same time, the critic was worried that if Nigel wasn't pushed, then they'd never get home in time. It was as if the baker gave up before they even tried fighting.

The whole situation was tricky; if Oscar pushed too hard, then it would end up in them fighting again, which was something the critic didn't want. They'd just gotten back onto the same page after what felt like months of dancing around their relationship. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the older male let out a slow breath before pushing himself from the chair that he was shocked held his weight and waddled into the living room. "Nig, I know you want to make sure you have everything. But we have to go, or we'll never get home." He whispered, gently wrapping his thick arms around the other male's shoulders, and then pulled Nigel into his chest. Oscar watched Nigel's head dip slightly, shoulders sagging as he remained silent; fear quickly replaced the nerves that were twisting inside the older male's stomach as he inhaled softly. "Are you sure this is about making sure you have everything, or is this about not wanting to go home?" He quizzed.

Nigel was silent for a long moment before pulling away from Oscar's grip. He took a few steps forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Maybe..." he trailed off, exhaling softly. The tension in the room seemed to intensify as Oscar swallowed hard, a million thoughts racing through his mind, and his hands trembled at his sides. "I want to go home; that's where I grew up. But I can't stop thinking about all the what-ifs. The more I dwell on them, the more I feel like all of this is pointless," he continued, rubbing the back of his head, his eyes fixed on the ugly brown curtains, and his lips pressed tightly together.

Oscar stood frozen, his mind screaming at him to move, but his feet felt anchored to the carpet. The critic stared at the younger man for what felt like hours, bile and saliva forming on his tongue as his heart pounded in his chest. After a few more minutes, Oscar found the strength to move, placing a large hand on either side of the baker and swallowing the lump in the back of his throat roughly. "Nig, we've talked about this already," he said calmly. "I won't let anything happen to your bakery or you, even if I have to pour everything I have into this fight. You're too important to me to let you lose what's important to you."

Nigel spun on his heels, his teeth clenched tightly as he gripped the front of Oscar's shirt. "What about you, huh? What about what you want, Oscar? Is getting bigger and choosing to gain weight instead of focusing on your career really more important to you?" He demanded in a low voice, his head bowed slightly. The older male watched the smaller male's shoulders shake as soft sobs filled the small hotel room. "What if you wake up one day and regret everything, me turning you into this slob, and hate me forever for it? Me forcing you to help me with this stupid loan shark war that could make you lose everything you worked for?" He shouted.

Oscar smiled gently as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The older man placed a strong hand on the smaller man's head, pulling him closer and burying his nose in Nigel's hair. "You can be so frustratingly foolish sometimes, Nig," he whispered. Thick tears streamed down the baker's cheeks, darkening the critic's shirt sleeve as his fingers tangled in the tight fabric. "You think I would have let you feed me all that junk food if I didn't believe you were my forever? I love the weight, Nigel. It turns me on every time you're straddling me on my lap, feeding me to the point where I feel like I'm going to explode. I love the sensation of my clothing growing smaller and smaller until it can't contain my fat belly anymore. Buttons popping open and flying across the room make me want to drool and melt. I do this because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, getting so big that I can hardly walk anymore." He continued.

Nigel wiped his snotty nose on Oscar's shirt, looking up slowly. "You mean it?" He choked out.

"Of course, I do, Nig."

They settled into a comfortable silence as Oscar continued to hold the smaller man. Eventually, the baker gently pushed himself away from Oscar's embrace. "I guess that means I ruined your proposal, huh?" he sniffled, wiping away the tears that lingered at the corners of his eyes.

Oscar chuckled and said, "Nah, it just means I’ll need to work extra hard to keep it a surprise," reassuring the other man gently. The critic watched as the baker moved back toward his luggage, gazing at the overpacked suitcase before speaking again. "Are you ready to head home now?"

"Yeah..."

***

From the moment they landed, the tension didn't decrease; it only intensified. Nigel remained unusually silent, which troubled the critic, but he reasoned the baker would speak when he felt like it. The younger man fiddled with the seam of his sweater, avoiding eye contact, as Oscar loaded the rental car. Nigel waited until they both got into the car. He observed Oscar grunt and shift as his large, round belly pressed against the bottom of the steering wheel. The older man muttered under his breath while scrambling to push the seat back, allowing his belly to spill forward and rest on his knees. A soft smirk formed on the smaller male's face as he placed a hand on the other male's large thigh. "Do you think we can get some food? I'm hungry after this morning and the flight." He asked while Oscar started the car.

The critic remained silent, merely nodding his head as he began to drive toward the nearest location. They soon parked at an old diner, settling into a creaky booth that was too small for the older male's girth. As well as Oscar knew, it would likely collapse at any moment if the older man allowed Nigel to feed him as much as the younger male wanted. The female waiter stared at the critic's bulging belly for a few minutes before taking their drink orders and disappearing into the kitchen. The older male watched the other male twirl his fork between his fingers while bouncing his leg nervously, teeth digging into his bottom lip. "After we finish eating, we should stop at the office and come up with a plan with Emily." He stated softly, earning a curt nod from the other male. When the waiter brought their drinks and took their orders, an uncomfortable silence filled the air.

The conversation had devolved into empty small talk, lacking any genuine connection. Even when the woman brought their food—a moment that could have been lighthearted and teasing—it was met with awkward silence. Oscar sighed, paying for the meal and then following behind Nigel closely, allowing the younger male to drive and climbing into the passenger seat. Oscar rested his head against the window, watching the scenery whiz by. As they slowly approached the large office building's driveway, he turned to Nigel, entwining his fingers with the smaller man's and giving them a gentle squeeze. "Everything will be okay," he whispered, before letting go and allowing Nigel's hand to fall back onto the middle console. Oscar then slid out of the car. The automatic doors whooshed open softly, revealing a large lobby.

They nervously stepped into the large building, and Oscar's round eyes scanned the crowded room, observing different interns scurrying around the floor room. The critic inhaled deeply, placing a hand on the curve of Nigel's back as they walked forward and stepped into the elevator. Once the sleek metal doors slid open, Oscar was the first to exit, stepping into a large room filled with cubicles. Emily was the first to notice them; her eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face. She rushed toward Oscar and wrapped her thin arms around him. Nigel watched them converse silently, his arms awkwardly pinned behind his back as the shorter woman laughed at something the critic had said. They were led into a small office located in the back of the room. The smaller woman closed the door behind them as Oscar lowered himself onto the couch with a soft grunt. Belly wobbling roughly before settling back on the critic's thick legs. "So what's the plan?" He asked.

Emily's gentle eyes shifted from Nigel to Oscar. "Well, we have both good news and bad news," she began as she sat down in the office chair.

"What's the bad news?" Nigel asked lowly.

The assistant pursed her lips, exhaling softly, while fixing her glasses. "The loan sharks may try to take you to court over this issue. If that occurs, I can't promise we'll win, even with the contract. They could argue that the previous owners were exploited due to their age," she explained, extending a hand.

Oscar reached over, grasping the smaller male's hand, pulling it into his lap. "And the good news?" The critic asked eagerly.

The shorter woman smirked. "We might be using intimidation tactics. If that's the case, the loan sharks will back down before we even reveal the contract with the original owner," she replied.

Nigel exchanged glances with Oscar before turning his attention toward Emily. "Will that even work?" He quizzed meekly.

Emily remained silent for a long moment. After a couple of minutes had passed, she gently removed her glasses and placed them in her lap. "These kinds of people prey on the unsuspecting, believing they won’t fight back if they intimidate their clients enough. Since you met with them and showed that you weren’t scared, we might have the advantage in terms of intimidation," she said. The worried expression on the smaller man’s face prompted Emily to take a deep breath. "Look, I know it’s a long shot, but it’s the best option we have. I promise I’ll do my best to help you win, Nigel. But remember, I’m just a food critic assistant, not a legal expert," she added.

"Okay...Let's fight back...." 

Chapter Text

Nigel bounced his leg impatiently; his heart was pounding heavily inside his chest. The male swallowed the lump in his throat, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants leg. His eyes nervously shifted between the clock above the door and Oscar. The larger male looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Nigel wanted to be mad; a small part of him was mad. The problem was that Nigel didn't know who he should be mad at. He was to blame for letting this all happen, even though he knew in the back of his mind there wasn't anything he could change. Alternatively, Nigel wondered if he should be mad at Oscar. Now that was where the baker knew he was being stupid; Oscar was risking everything for the baker. The fatter male was risking everything: his career, his reputation, and his life. Oscar didn't have to do any of this for him. The critic could have left that review of Nigel's bakery and scrubbed his hands clean of Nigel. But no, the older male allowed Nigel to take over his life practically and was sitting next to the smaller male, trying so hard to keep the one thing Nigel cared about. The baker quickly pushed the emotion to the back of his head, focusing all his hate on the situation at hand. The loan sharks were twenty minutes late.

The door to the conference room squeaked open, and Nigel could feel his heart lodge inside his throat. Two businessmen trudged through the threshold of the doorway, and the pair scanned the room silently before finding their seats across from one another. Setting their briefcase down onto the table with a soft thump, time seemed to tick by slowly as Nigel observed them fix their thick-rimmed glasses. Minutes seemed to pass before one of the men cleared his throat. "Have you come to your senses yet to make the right decision?" he questioned.

Nigel clenched his fists on his lap, slightly curling his lips into a soft snarl, and narrowed his eyes. "No, I won't sell you my bakery because it's not for sale. I have the contract with the previous owner, and you can't legally seize my business since I have all the proper paperwork. I've also made every payment since taking over," Nigel said.

The room fell silent with tension as eyes shifted nervously around. A grin appeared on his pale face, and the corners of his lips twitched slightly. "Then I suppose we'll need to take this matter to court," he said plainly.

Time seemed to freeze around Nigel; his blood rushed to his ears, muffling everyone's voices around him. A hand wrapping around his thigh jolted Nigel from his train of thought. The baker slowly turned his head towards Oscar and was met with a mixture of pure fear as well as concern. "Are you okay?" The older male mouthed. Nigel opened his mouth, but only air came out. The male quickly closed his mouth, his eyes slowly glancing down toward his lap before faintly shaking his head. Nigel didn't register them, leaving the conference room, his hand hung loosely in Oscar's larger one. The pair silently continued further out of the building, back into the parking garage, before Nigel's legs started wobbling violently, and hot tears pricked the corner of the male's eyes as his legs gave out. Oscar wrapped a protective arm around the smaller male, as Nigel gripped the front of his shirt tightly, tears streaking down his face as his shoulders trembled. "Shhh, I got you. Let it out." Oscar whispered, gently rubbing the baker's back as he sobbed loudly.

"It was s-supposed to work..."

The older male softly kissed the other male's forehead. "I know it was, don't worry, we'll get them." He whispered. Oscar led Nigel back to the car, assisting the smaller man as he buckled his seatbelt before gently closing the door. The drive to the critic's house was quiet. Oscar glanced over at Nigel, who was taking soft breaths. Finally, Oscar broke the silence. "I was thinking we could order some food and watch a horror movie, or one of those cheesy Christmas Hallmark movies you like." When Nigel didn't answer, the older male sighed once more, turning his attention back towards the road. Once home, Nigel was first to climb out of the car; the baker silently opened the car door and sauntered into the house. Oscar observed the male, biting down on the bottom of his lip while leaning forward, resting his head against the steering wheel. A million thoughts were whirling through his head as his shoulders trembled slightly. Minutes passed before Oscar numbly found himself getting out of the car and entering the apartment, noticing the lights were still turned off, as well as that the bedroom door was closed.

Osar walked further into the apartment, the floor creaking slightly from his weight. He tossed his keys into the small bowl next to the doorway before disappearing into the kitchen. Grabbing a couple of sodas and a half-eaten take-out container that Emily had left behind from the fridge. The critic shuffled into the living room, lowering himself down onto the couch and scooping the remote from the coffee table. The sound of the TV drowned in Oscar's ears as he continued flicking through the channels, his eyes drooping slightly as exhaustion crept through his body. After the male found something to watch, he tossed the remote to the side, stirring the leftovers for a couple of minutes before he started eating. Oscar stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth, leaning his head back slightly while placing a hand on the curve of his stomach. Burping into his fist, the critic shifted in his seat, his belly wobbling as it slid in between his thick thighs. Oscar mentally winced, slipping his fingers in between the tight waistband of his slacks, grunting softly as the metal button creaked lowly.

The older male quickly scooped another forkful of food into his mouth before he started fumbling with the metal button, which flicked open with ease. Sighing with relief, the fatter male's belly pushed down the zipper of the slacks, engulfing his lap quickly. Oscar went for another forkful, pausing when the fork scraped against the bottom of the take-out container, grumbling under his breath. The fatter male set the container next to him while his stomach growled loudly. "Shut up, you're not helping the situation." He muttered, crossing his arms, pouting slightly.

Chapter Text

Nigel fiddled nervously with his tie, growling in frustration as the fabric wouldn't cooperate. "Here, let me help," Oscar whispered, slowly stepping in front of the baker. Ignoring the pain that blossomed through his stomach, the critic knew it was a bad idea to stuff himself before the court date, but between nerves and Nigel in his slump, it was the only way to quell the voices in Oscar's head. The older male ignored the way the metal button of his brand new slacks was already digging into his navel, as well as ignoring the way the fat rolls on his hips were stretching the waistband to its already short limit. The older male felt his cheeks heat up slightly when he noticed the small, round white buttons pull apart from the girth of his balloon belly, revealing a perfect diamond view of pale flesh. Oscar bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste copper, begging whatever god was watching over them not to let Nigel notice.

As well as prayed silently in the back of his mind that his suit jacket wouldn't rip when he slipped it on before they left. If Nigel did notice, the baker didn't comment; the smaller man watched the larger man in the mirror, his eyes narrowing as the critic swiftly tied the fabric. "There, now you look handsome," Oscar said proudly, running his hands down Nigel's arms. The tension in the room was thick, thick enough for the critic to notice a shift between them; he knew it wasn't Nigel's or his own fault. They both were on edge, and because of that, the couple barely spoke to each other besides a few short sentences. Oscar hated the silence, but the older male knew that whenever Nigel was plagued by his own thoughts, it was tough to snap the younger male out of the deep fog of his own thoughts. So Oscar would dwell in the silence until Nigel was ready to talk; as much as he hated it, he'd eat out his feelings later when Nigel locked himself inside the bedroom after the hearing.

They both moved towards the door; Oscar scooped his suit jacket from the hook and slipped it over his shoulders. Pausing when the larger male could already feel the fabric tighten around his shoulders and belly, the critic mentally cursed as he tugged the flaps together, sucking in his stomach, fumbling with the button for a few minutes before exhaling slowly, wincing as the plastic buttons creaked. Oscar silently helped Nigel into his jacket, grabbed his keys from the small bowl, and followed the smaller male out of the apartment. The critic was half expecting Nigel to make a run for it, to try one last-ditch effort to escape his problems. But no, the smaller male continued through the parking garage, walking a few paces in front of the older male, hand stuffed into his pockets and kicking loose gravel across the concrete floor. They both climbed into the car, and Oscar flinched when the smaller male slammed the car door closed behind him. "You know, even if we don't win, I'll help pay for a new building for your bakery, Nig." The critic said after a few minutes of silence.

"Just drive..."

Oscar opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it, rolling his eyes before staring at the car. He was too exhausted to argue any longer. The drive to the courthouse felt suffocating; the tension between them was boiling over, and neither was too stubborn to attempt to ease it. A small part of Oscar wondered if this was normal. He understood that couples fought; that was a staple in any relationship, and any couple that claimed otherwise was delusional. However, this was more than a trivial argument; it was something that scared Oscar to the core, making him doubt if they would survive it. He couldn't predict what would happen to Nigel if they didn't succeed today. Honestly, another part of him was too frightened to even contemplate that possibility. As Oscar pulled into the parking spot, he was the first to unbuckle his seatbelt and rush out of the car. He leaned against the back of the vehicle, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling deeply. Shortly after, Nigel exited the car, holding a thick manila folder close to his chest for safekeeping.

They walked side by side, both keeping their eyes trained in front of them even when their fingers gently brushed against one another. Entering the courtroom was another story; the overwhelming smell of aftershave and perfume caused Oscar's head to spin. The lobby was overly crowded; everyone was touching shoulders while they traveled back and forth down the hallways. Bile coated the older male's tongue, and nausea bubbled in his lower belly. Oscar's hands trembled at his sides as his eyes slowly shifted down toward Nigel's hand, noticing that the smaller male's hand was also shaking. The larger male gently closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply before his fingers slowly entwined with Nigel's, giving a gentle squeeze. Nigel gasped softly, his head snapping down toward their hands before he relaxed slightly, a soft smile forming on his face as he exhaled. An unspoken apology hung in the air around them, but Oscar considered it a small victory.

He understood that it was the stress—driven by the fear of losing everything—that was clouding the baker's mind and fueling the anxiety creeping into the back of his thoughts. It will only get worse if they lose. A small voice in the back of his mind supplied. Oscar quickly pushed the thought aside. No, he couldn't dwell on that. He needed to focus on the positives: they had the documents as well as the signature. They were going to win. They had to win. The pair walked deeper into the building, discovering that finding the courtroom was more difficult than expected. After locating it, Oscar allowed Nigel to enter first before he followed.

***

Hours dragged by as Oscar sat silently in the back of the courtroom, his thick thigh bouncing with impatience. The critic clenched his lower lip, running his thumb over his knuckles and taking a shaky breath. For the past ten minutes, the trial had been a back-and-forth; the judges appeared exhausted with the case but still listened fairly to both sides. Her small, round eyes gradually shifted toward Nigel, who was nervously fidgeting in his seat as his lawyer whispered to him. Anxiety and fear bubbled in Oscar's lower stomach as he gently dug his fingernail into his plush skin, eyes scanning the jury's faces for a few minutes. Most of them looked bored while a select few feverishly took notes about the case, relaying it to another jury member before turning their attention back toward the judge. Minutes seemed to tick by before the judge inhaled and exhaled slowly, picking up her gavel softly. "We'll be taking a short break while the jury votes on their decision. Participants, please be back in the courtroom in half an hour." The judge announced, gently slamming her gavel down.

Osar watched Nigel in his seat for a moment before his gaze shifted to the loan sharks brushing past the older man. He let out a sigh and pushed himself out of his chair, shuffling closer to the smaller male. Gently, he placed a hand on the baker's shoulder. "How about a snack break?" he suggested, barely noticing Nigel's faint nod in response. The smaller male stood quietly, squeezing past Oscar and walking a few paces ahead of him. They wandered around the hallways for a few minutes until Oscar finally spotted a vending machine. He gently grabbed the smaller male by the arm and led him towards the machine. After quickly inserting a few bills and pressing a couple of buttons on the keypad, the critic watched as two sodas were dispensed, followed by two bags of chips. He held them out for Nigel, who took them gently.

Nigel gripped his hand around the cap of his soda, clenching his teeth tightly while Oscar took a large sip of his own drink. "What do you think?" He asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

Osar cocked his head to the side, staring at Nigel for a few seconds. "What do you mean?" He questioned.

"The case..."

The critic paused for a moment, his eyes shifting downward. "Oh," he whispered, "it's hard to tell what the jury is thinking. But I honestly believe we're a shoo-in for the win," he continued.

Nigel nodded, sipping his soda slowly. "What if we don't? I can't ask you to buy me another building, Oscar. You've done enough just by being here," he said.

The older man leaned against the wall, slipping a hand into his pocket as he thought to himself silently. A couple of minutes passed before Oscar let out a loud exhale, tilting his head back slightly with a wide smirk on his face. "I've already told you that I want to help you because I love you, Nigel. That bakery means everything to you, and it isn't right for you to lose it to a bunch of bullies. Yes, we might lose, but just because you do, it doesn't mean your dream has to die. We can move to England, and you can find a building there," he said.

Nigel smirked, a slight blush appearing on the smaller male's cheeks. "England was lovely." He muttered under his breath.

Oscar made a soft noise in the back of his throat, pushing himself off the wall, and cupped a hand underneath Nigel's chin. "Stop thinking you're going to lose, and it's the end of the world. And start thinking about all the opportunities that will open IF we do lose." He said.

Nigel took a few steps forward and rested his head on Oscar's shoulder, wrapping his thin arms around his neck. He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks when he realized his fingers were no longer connected. "I'm sorry," he murmured against Oscar's shoulder. "With everything that has been happening, it's hard not to think about all the things that could go wrong."

The critic snorted, wrapping his arms around the thinner male. "I know, don't worry, I already have a way you can make it up to me," Oscar replied with a mischievous smirk.

The baker rolled his eyes, gently hitting the other male's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Pervert," Nigel muttered.

The couple stood in the hallway for a few more minutes before the smaller man exhaled and tossed his trash into the can next to him. Oscar noticed that everyone was beginning to head back into the courtroom, gently squeezing Nigel's hand as they walked behind the others. The baker paused at the threshold, swallowing the lump in his throat before exchanging a weary glance with the other man. "It'll be okay. Remember what we talked about," he whispered, slipping his hand from Nigel's, and then Oscar ran his fingers through the younger man's hair. When Nigel didn't move, the older male's large hand traveled down to the small curve of the baker's back. Nigel fought the urge to squeak; the tension in his shoulders curled tighter as the smaller male turned his attention towards the crowded courtroom, and the baker's hand trembled at his sides. Minutes passed before Nigel slowly moved forward, ignoring the whispers of the loan sharks as he passed their seats. Nigel could feel their eyes burning into the back of his neck, causing the anxiety in the smaller male's stomach to intensify. Everyone gradually found their seats, and Oscar gave Nigel one last peck on the cheek before Nigel let go of the older man's hand and walked over to his seat.

The judge cleared her throat, causing the room to fall into an eerie silence. "The jury has reached a decision," the judge announced, her eyes scanning the courtroom. "We are granting Mr. White the right to own his bakery," she said, slamming her gavel down.

Chapter Text

Oscar drummed his fingers on his desk, his tired eyes fixed on the empty document in front of him. With a small sigh, the critic leaned back in his office chair, feeling the lower part of his round belly press against the wooden desk while the upper portion spilled slightly over the edge. He glared at the prominent bulge, bringing his thick hands to either side of his abdomen and grabbing two handfuls of flesh. Oscar knew he was well past the point of being overweight; his stomach had already been brushing against his knees when he and Nigel had dealt with the trail a few weeks ago. Now, it seemed his weight had ballooned once again, especially when he tried to get dressed that morning. None of his slacks could fit past his thighs, and his button-down shirts lifted and rolled up underneath his moobs.

The small white buttons were either too spread apart due to his girth or missing from his attempts to fasten them while leaning down, opting for the older male just working in overly tight boxers and shirtless. Oscar bit down on his lower lip as his eyes slid over toward the three brownies that the smaller male had left last weekend. Nigel had pouted when the older male told him they were fine and left in a hurry, leaving the two trays in the kitchen. The critic leaned forward, mentally wincing as the office chair creaked loudly, spreading his large thighs to allow his belly to slip in between his legs and spill off the edge of the chair. Oscar let out a shaky breath, quickly stuffing the overly sweet brownie into his mouth, groaning as the familiar pain blossomed in the middle of his stomach and stretched towards his sides.

It was only going to get much worse with Nigel back in his bakery, preparing for the holiday rush of customers. The smaller man seemed to pop into his apartment every weekend, begging Oscar to try a new recipe that he insisted had to be on the menu. Oscar exhaled slowly, scratching the side of his stomach, watching the overly bloated ball wobble violently as he stuffed two more brownies into his mouth. Moaning softly as the peppermint chocolate coated his tongue, the critic's stomach groaned with protest as he picked up the last brownie. Oscar pushed himself forward, burping heavily into his fist while groaning as the curve of his stomach pressed against his large moobs. Panting softly as the larger male brought a hand to the side of his stomach, wincing slightly as Oscar shifted in his seat.

The creaking beneath him grew louder until the leg of his chair suddenly snapped. The critic let out a loud yelp as his hefty body slammed against the carpet. Oscar whined loudly, flailing his pudgy limbs in the air as he attempted to rock himself onto his feet. The sound of the door opening and closing sent a wave of fear through the older male, who whimpered louder, while Oscar managed to roll himself onto his side. A soft chuckle caused the critic to freeze, his eyes slowly traveling up, meeting Nigel's soft eyes. The baker's hand was on his hip while his other hand was holding what smelled like freshly baked cupcakes. "I can't even leave you alone for a few hours before you stuff yourself so full you're breaking furniture." The younger male sighed, placing the tray down onto the desk, and then turned his attention back towards Oscar.

"What am I going to do with such a gluttonous piglet?" He chuckled softly while helping the fatter male into a sitting position. Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but only air came out as Nigel crouched down beside the male and ran his small hand across the curve of the critic's overly full stomach. Gently poking and prodding the taut skin, earning a few whimpers and moans from the other male. Oscar could feel his cheeks burn as his dick leaped in his tight boxers as the critic bit down on his lower lip.

The apartment was filled with Oscar's heavy panting as the younger male checked him over for a few minutes before firmly gripping the critic's wrist, pulling him onto his knees, then shortly afterwards, his wobbly feet. "What were you even doing at your desk? I thought Emily forced you to have the week off." He asked, snatching the cupcake tray from the desk and leading Oscar into the bedroom.

Oscar slowly lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed, burping loudly into his fist. Groaning softly, the critic let Nigel help him into the bed and then scooped up the TV remote. "Em was contacted by a high-end cafe that wanted to send me some samples to write a review on," Oscar responded groggily."But then I got distracted by your brownies and couldn't stop eating them." He continued.

Nigel hummed softly, leaning forward slightly, and then started rubbing Oscar's belly. Gently pressing into the round orb, earning another gasp and short whine from the older male. "Jeezus, Oscar, how much did you eat?" The younger male quizzed, squeezing and massaging the other male's plump sides.

Oscar blushed, turning his head away from Nigel. "Both pans..." he muttered.

A mixture of pleasure and excitement washed through the baker's stomach. The younger male stared at Oscar's stomach for a few minutes before Nigel smirked softly, climbing further into the bed. His small hands traveled down towards the older male's lower belly. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." He replied, grinning widely.

"Both pans!"

In one swift motion, Nigel straddled Oscar. "Just couldn't help yourself, could you? Such a piggy that you're not satisfied until you stuff your face so full you're in pain. He cooed softly as both his hands gently grabbed the critic's breasts and squeezed them. Oscar closed his eyes tightly, biting back a moan, while nodding violently. Nigel continued massaging the other male's breasts for a few minutes, observing Oscar writhe underneath him.

The baker pursed his lips. "Aw, poor baby, in so much pain and nobody to take care of him." Nigel purred as he slowly rubbed his hands down towards the curve of Oscar's stomach. The older male opened his mouth to speak, but only air came out. Oscar's heart was pounding against his chest while blood rushed to his ears, causing the room to spin around him. The critic brought his shaky hands up to Nigel's hips, gently digging his nails into the younger male's skin as a shuddered breath escaped his mouth.

The baker chuckled lowly, quickly lunging forward and capturing Oscar's lips with his own. Hungry kissed the older male as his hands continued squeezing and massaging the critic's plump belly. They kissed for what felt like hours, until the baker finally pulled away. Staring at the older male for a long moment before bending down, his lips brushing against Oscar's navel. "N-Nigel..." Oscar gasped, leaning his head back against the pillows, biting down on his lower lip until copper engulfed his mouth.

The critic's brain barely registered the younger male's breathy laugh, which was followed by Nigel's hot tongue lapping Oscar's stomach. "F-fuck!" The critic cried out. Oscar held his breath as Nigel bent down once more, only to gently kiss the older male on the forehead and crawl off of Oscar. The heat that was bubbling in Oscar's lower belly fizzled out, leaving him relaxed with frustration and discomfort. "Jerk. You did that on purpose." The critic pouted.

Nigel barked out a laugh, placing a hand on his hip. "Maybe; guess you'll just have to wait for me to get off work tonight." He teased. The baker spun on his heels, scooping a fresh shirt from the corner of the room, and tossed it towards the larger male. "I'll leave those cupcakes there for you if you get hungry later. The recipe wasn't good enough, so they're trash," Nigel continued, waving his wrist in the air.

Oscar puffed out his cheeks, narrowing his eyes at the younger male. "So now I'm just your trash compactor?" He scoffed.

The baker bit back a laugh that was bubbling in the back of his throat. Clearing his throat loudly, "Not a trash compactor; you're more of an overweight raccoon that refuses to leave and begs for all my leftovers." Nigel quipped quickly.

Oscar caught the shirt effortlessly, muttering under his breath as he slipped the tight garment on. Sticking his tongue out towards the younger male when Nigel padded to the bathroom. The older male exhaled loudly, his eyes slowly gliding to the cupcakes on the nightstand. "What did you make me this time?" The critic called, scooping a glop of frosting with his finger and lapping it slowly off his finger.

Nigel exited the bathroom a couple of minutes later, his gaze following Oscar's as a large smile spread across the younger man's face. "I'm trying out some new holiday recipes. I wanted to stick to the peppermint theme we have going this week, so I made peppermint patties with a dark chocolate glaze," He explained. Oscar hummed in response, his eyes still focused on the cupcake tray while his thick fingers drummed lightly against his stomach.

The baker let out a soft snort, leaned down, and gave the fatter man a gentle peck on the cheek before striding towards the doorway. "Make sure to let me know how they turn out. I want to perfect the recipe before the Christmas rush," he instructed before disappearing through the door. The critic waited for the soft click of the front door before pushing himself into a sitting position. The faded T-shirt he wore had rolled up a couple of inches, revealing Oscar's navel. He shifted slightly, letting his thighs spread as far apart as possible while his lower belly spilled forward, engulfing the bed beneath him, and his upper stomach covered his knees. Oscar knew he was well past full; the pain radiating from his sides toward his belly served as a painful reminder of just how stuffed he was. The thought of more food made his stomach lurch, causing a wave of nausea to swell inside him.

But pleasure overtook logic inside the older male's mind as he reached for the cupcake tray, setting the cool metal on the curve of his stomach, while chewing on the inside of his cheek. One won't hurt; besides, it's Nigel's fault I worked up another appetite. Oscar slowly peeled back the paper, his mouth watering as the scent of peppermint filled the air. As soon as the frosting touched his tongue, he let out a loud moan, his eyes rolling back in his head. Leaning against the headboard, he eagerly shoveled the cupcake into his mouth, panting heavily as his moans transformed into soft groans. One cupcake became two, then two became four, and suddenly four became six. After six, the rest is history.

RIIIIIIIP

Oscar's eyes widened as his head snapped down towards his stomach, noticing a large rip along the side of the T-shirt as well as a series of smaller tears along the sleeves. The critic's heart pounded against his chest, his eyes slowly traveling down towards his boxers, noticing a couple of large tears along the waistline as well as some along his left leg. Oscar watched small rolls of fat ooze from the tears, causing the small holes to grow before his eyes. The older male bit down on his lip as pleasure coiled through his body, Oscar's member jumping violently against the tight fabric. This caused the male to gasp harshly, which melted into a low whimper shortly afterward. The heat that bubbled in Oscar's lower belly seemed to boil at that point as the male gently rocked his hips, clamping down on his bottom lip as his whimpers morphed into loud panting moans. Time seemed to blur past the critic as he started rocking his hips faster, his shallow breathing bouncing off the walls until Oscar threw his head back against the headboard, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he moaned loudly, releasing on himself.

A long moment passed before Oscar blinked back the black dots that danced across his vision; the heat that swelled in his body was replaced with a mixture of emotions as his pleasure-dazed, filled eyes slowly glanced down at the large wet patch on the front of his ripped boxers. Noticing most of the buttons were torn from the tight fabric, as well as new tears appearing along Oscar's crotch, exposing a thick sliver of the critic's underbelly. The fatter male cursed under his breath as his brain slowly registered the pain that radiated through his belly and sides. Whining softly as he brought his large hands to either side of his belly and began massaging the dusted pink skin. Minutes slowly passed as Oscar burped loudly into his fist, the pain slowly morphing into a sharp throbbing pain. He knew he overdid it; he should have stopped at the brownies, taken a nap, and probably waited for Nigel to get off work to feed him the cupcakes. But of course Oscar's gluttony overtook any logic or caution, and now the critic's stomach felt like it was going to explode, as well as his clothing being ruined.

Oscar winced as he slid towards the edge of the bed, ignoring the large spike of pleasure coursing through his dick. The fatter male pushed the scalding heat to the back of his mind, rocking himself off the bed and then waddling towards the bathroom. Yelping loudly when his fat rolls caught in the doorframe, Oscar grunted loudly, pressing his palms on the frame, and pushed himself through the small door, growling when his large, pillowy ass caught in the door. The critic grunted once more, unsticking himself from the door. Panting heavily, Oscar flicked the water on in the shower, peeling the sticky boxers and shirt off and letting them plop onto the ground, before his eyes caught the scale hidden underneath the skin. The critic's gaze flicked between his stomach and back to the scale before the fatter male waddled towards the sink, using his foot to slide the scale from underneath the sink. Oscar swallowed thickly, forming small fists at his side, before stepping onto the scale, holding his breath.

695 

Chapter Text

~Nigel's P.O.V.~

The wind and snow howled outside, rattling the thick glass windows as the chatter inside the bakery grew louder. Nigel's frosting-coated hands smeared across a stack of white boxes as he quickly packed pastries for customers, slipping some defective treats that couldn't be sold or that customers complained about into the doggie bag he had accumulated for Oscar. Frustration settled into the male's chest hours ago, when the second-to-last rush stormed through the bakery. Blue eyes flicked over toward the clock hanging above the doorway, lips curling into a snarl as he continued packing the massive order in front of him. Nigel loved his customers—don’t get him wrong. Seeing their eyes light up every time they took a bite of dessert warmed his heart. However, he had promised Oscar that he would be home early so they could start their Christmas movie marathon. Nigel was also eager to test out some of his new recipes on the larger man. Today, he planned to feed Oscar to his limits, maybe even beyond, which could potentially ruin some of Oscar's old clothes that were desperate to be discarded but too stubborn to let go. The mere thought sent waves of different emotions through the baker.

Nigel inhaled and then exhaled softly, wiping a glop of frosting from his forehead before passing the large order out. He waved goodbye to the customer and swiftly moved on to the next one. Time seemed to blur together as the younger man continued, forcing a smile while packing pastries. By the time he finished with the last customer and locked the bakery doors, it was well past midnight. He had missed their date, and it was now Christmas Eve. A mixture of emotions boiled through the smaller male's chest as he numbly walked into the back room, gathering all the bags he'd collected throughout the day into a cardboard box and his coat. Flicking off the lights, the world around Nigel seemed to disappear as he slipped out the back door and onto the street. Tears stung the corners of his eyes before spilling down his frozen cheeks, while his clouded eyes burned a hole into the box full of desserts. When Nigel finally made it back to the apartment building, he shakily pulled his keys from his coat pocket, blinking back tears as he fumbled with the lock. Slipping into the warm apartment and ignoring the pain from his pink cheeks, which stung as they slowly warmed up.

The older male looked up from his laptop, staring at the smaller male for a moment before tossing the device to the side. "You're home. I was so worried you got lost or were robbed by an angry customer. I almost called Emily to fetch you." Oscar called from the living room. Rocking himself back and forth until he managed to pull himself onto his chubby feet, he then waddled towards the front door, belly wobbling violently. The critic glanced down at the box and then back at Nigel. "Here, let me get that for you. You warm up in the living room." Oscar whispered, his warm fingers brushing up against Nigel's cold ones, and gently took the box from him before disappearing into the kitchen.

Nigel watched the older male disappear around the corner before shrugging off his wet jacket. Wordlessly walking further into the apartment and then plopping down onto the couch, staring at the Christmas movie Oscar had playing in the background as he worked. His blue eyes shifted down towards his fingers, watching them tremble, flexing them slightly as the pins and needles traveled from his frost-coated fingers up his arms. Oscar appeared in the living room a few minutes later, holding out a small mug of hot chocolate for the smaller male. The critic waited for Nigel to take the cup before sitting down next to him, the couch creaking loudly from the weight. "I can only guess how today went, but if you want to talk about it, I'm here." He stated, sipping his drink.

The smaller male gazed at the marshmallows floating in his mug while the quiet world around him gradually began to come back to life. The first sound he heard was the Christmas carols playing on the TV, causing him to flinch internally. "I missed our date," he muttered.

Oscar took another sip of his cocoa, waiting for Nigel to continue. When Nigel remained silent, Oscar leaned forward, the large curve of his stomach pressing against his chest. He set his mug down on the coffee table and gently took Nigel's hand in his own. “Nig, I’m not upset about you missing our date. I knew you’d be busy this week with the holidays, so I wasn’t worried about it,” Oscar said, running his thumb across Nigel’s knuckles. “I was actually more concerned about you getting robbed or hurt than anything else,” he admitted.

Nigel was quiet for a moment. "I had plans..." he whispered.

Oscar chuckled softly, took the untouched cup, and set it down on the coffee table. Then, he pulled the smaller male into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around the baker. "We can do them later, once you get some rest. You look exhausted, like you’re about to pass out," he said. “Whatever you brought me from work can wait until morning; right now, we need to get you into bed,” Oscar continued. Nigel hummed softly, pushing the larger male onto his back and snickering as the critic yelped loudly. The smaller male climbed on top of the larger male, draping his small arm across the heavier male's chest and resting his cheek against Oscar's shoulder. The critic smirked, pulling the throw blanket off the back of the couch and covering Nigel and himself. Running his thick fingers through Nigel's hair, using his other hand to gently rub the larger male's back. Shortly afterward, the apartment was filled with a mixture of Nigel's soft snoring as well as the movie playing on the TV.

oOo

When Nigel woke up the next morning, he realized he was in their bedroom instead of the living room. He groaned, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye, while using his other hand to feel the warm space beside him. Nigel paused, frowning as he noticed that Oscar wasn't beside him. Soft voices echoed from the living room. He pulled the covers off and slipped out of bed, padding toward the closed door. Poking his head out, he scanned the brightly decorated living room and noticed the coffee table covered with an array of desserts and takeout boxes. A small table beside it was similarly cluttered. The couch was strewn with various blankets and pillows, and stacks of movies sat on each side table. Nigel shuffled further out of the room, his eyes widening slightly as he spotted Oscar sprawled out on the couch. Oscar's stomach was stuffed inside a skin-tight plaid shirt divided into three large rolls of fat, which pushed against the metal buttons of his shirt, causing them to strain and create gaps where thick rolls of fat oozed out. The sleeves of his shirt were tattered and littered with various holes.

The baker's gaze traveled down, suppressing a moan as he noticed Oscar's thick legs and thighs stuffed into jeans. The critic's love handles spilled over the waistband, which dug into his sides, creating a few smaller rolls of fat beneath them. A small smirk formed on the baker's face as his eyes traced the large tears along the inside of the other man's thighs. Tight boxers were cutting into Oscar's plush skin, leaving angry red lines against his pale complexion. The metal button and zipper of his jeans were missing, replaced by safety pins that were already bending and creaking, barely containing the older man's belly. "I was surprised you were still able to fit into those. Lately, you've been such a greedy piglet that I was starting to worry we wouldn’t have anything to contain your girth," The baker called, startling the fatter male slightly. Nigel walked over towards the couch, eyes observing the untouched food, before flicking over towards the critic and smiling wider. "Such a good boy waiting for me; bet you're starving. Waiting all morning for me to wake up and feed you, basically wasting away." The smaller male cooed, rubbing a hand across Oscar's belly.

Oscar bit down on his lower lip, letting out a low whine as he leaned his head back against the couch. Nigel’s hand slowly made its way down to Oscar’s belly button. His slender finger slipped through one of the gaps in Oscar’s shirt and gently brushed across the sensitive skin, earning a small gasp from the larger male. "C-Come on, Nig, I've been good. Please, I'm starving." Oscar begged. Nigel traced his finger around Oscar's belly button a few more times, causing the larger male to writhe and whimper. With his other hand, he grabbed a brownie from the platter and held it out in front of Oscar's mouth. The larger male's eyes flicked toward Nigel as if waiting for permission. Nigel smirked and nodded his head, watching as Oscar quickly devoured the brownie, moaning softly. This went on for a short time until Nigel took the half-eaten platter and set it on the curve of Oscar's stomach. As Oscar stuffed desserts into his mouth, Nigel got off the couch and opened a one-liter soda. He poured a cup and set it next to Oscar, then browsed the movie stack, pulling out Frost the Snowman and putting it in the DVD player before returning to Oscar’s side.

Oscar burped loudly into his fist and set the plate down onto the couch next to him. He made grabby hands toward the food on the coffee table, causing Nigel to snicker softly as he replaced the plate with some breadsticks and pizza. The baker's eyes fell on Oscar's jeans, noticing the first safety pin tearing from the fabric, which then launched across the room, disappearing beneath the TV. The room fell eerily silent as the older man's belly surged forward, and loud tearing and creaking filled the air. Oscar's cheeks flushed pink as the tears along his thighs spread further up, revealing more of the overweight man's boxers, which were also missing some buttons. The baker purred softly, sliding his slender body across Oscar's shoulders, trailing his lips up the other male's neck. "Good boy, one of many more," Nigel praised, gently tapping Oscar's belly and watching it wobble violently. The critic shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks tinged pink with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.

After a few minutes, Nigel finally pulled away from the other man. He added a few more slices to Oscar's plate before turning his attention back to the movie. The critic ate silently, wrapping one arm around the smaller male. By the time they were halfway through the movie, Oscar had eaten the first box of pizza and breadsticks, switching between alfredo pasta and salad. The older male whined, shifting slightly as his stomach pushed his legs further apart. One of the buttons from the plaid shirt shot from between Oscar's legs, disappearing toward the bedroom. Shortly afterward, a second safety pin snapped open. Oscar moaned, leaning his head back as his stomach surged forward, bouncing against the bottom of the couch. This movement sent a shockwave of pleasure through him as the older male's shirt rubbed against his nipples. The seams running down Oscar's legs split further, allowing more fat to ooze from the torn clothing. Nigel ran a hand over Oscar's exposed belly, a large grin forming on his face, while Oscar stared up at the ceiling, panting softly.

The baker glanced down at the half-eaten bowls, then picked up a fork and took a bite of pasta. "Finish your salad and pasta, and we can get you out of those tight clothes," he said. Oscar slowly lifted his head, his eyes clouded as he stared at the smaller man, then looked down at the half-empty bowls. He burped into his fist once more. The older man opened his mouth, allowing Nigel to feed him the rest of the food. Once the bowl was scraped clean, the baker carefully took the bowls and added them to a small pile next to the couch. Meanwhile, the smaller man observed the third safety pin and barely flicked it open, watching in amazement as Oscar's stomach filled his lap, spilling over past his knees. While the rest of the buttons exploded from the tattered shirt, bouncing off the coffee table and disappearing into the pizza box. Nigel felt his dick throb as Oscar's heavy panting echoed off the thin walls.

Time seemed frozen around the pair as the baker continued staring at the larger male. A few minutes passed before Nigel found himself moving. "Good boy, you did such a good job, Osc." He paused lowly, gently peeling off the tattered shirt and jeans, adding them to the growing pile. "You did such a good job; you deserve a break and belly rubs." Nigel cooed. Afterward, Nigel straddled Oscar's lap and then gently started massaging the other male's bloated stomach. Oscar tilted his head back against the couch, his low whimper gradually turning into moans. His eyes closed as Nigel moved downward toward the other male's lower abdomen, drawing a few gasps and burps from him. Leaning forward, the baker softly trailed his lips around the critic's navel before moving upwards to Oscar's upper belly. Oscar gasped loudly, his body jolting slightly as his hand flew to Nigel's hair, thick fingers tangling in the messy locks. "N-Not fair." The older male panted, dazed eyes shooting a glare at the smaller male.

Nigel smiled as he waited for Oscar to loosen his grip before pushing himself off the couch. "I'm going to clean up a bit before we start the next course," he said, picking up the pile of boxes and dishes next to the couch. As he walked towards the kitchen, he called back, "Hope you like chocolate cake," and winked at Oscar before disappearing into the kitchen. Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat, his dazed eyes slowly lowering to his dusted pink belly. His member twitched slightly as he bit down on his lip, and then his gaze flickered up towards the food still scattered across the table. Gently pressing his fingers into the side of his bloated stomach, Oscar grunted softly and bit down on his lower lip. He realized he was getting full quicker than he had anticipated. With the soda, breadsticks, and pasta weighing heavily in his stomach, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer if he kept eating at this rate. Oscar's hands slowly traveled down to his boxers, fingers tracing the large tears along the waistband and crotch, causing the critic's already leaking member to twitch violently. Nigel returned to the living room a few minutes later with a few more liters of soda, picked up the cake plate, and climbed onto Oscar's lap, bringing one of the large slices up towards the critic's mouth.

Oscar reluctantly opened his mouth and took a large bite of the moist cake, moaning as the combination of peanut butter and chocolate coated his tongue. The first slice went down smoothly, as did the next four slices. The critic licked the frosting from the edge of his lip while Nigel held up a fifth slice. By the time he reached the seventh slice, Oscar started to slow down, his shallow breathing warm against his taut skin. The critic's cheeks were pink with exhaustion as he cradled his lower belly, whimpering softly. Oscar knew he was well past full, but the pleasure coursing through his body clouded any remaining logic in his mind. At some point, his boxers finally gave way, the worn black fabric being engulfed by Oscar's distended belly, which was now spilling past his knees. The older man gulped down air as he forced the eighth piece into his mouth, his fat fingers coated with peanut butter and thick chocolate. "Such a glutton, eating himself past full and coming all over himself without being touched. Naughty piglet." Nigel cooed, hand rubbing hard against Oscar's lower belly. Oscar moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut as he swallowed the cake in his mouth.

"T-Too full, p-p-please, Nigel."

The baker placed the empty cake plate back onto the coffee table, scanning the food with blue eyes, and smirked. "Tell me what you want, Pigglet," he stated, as the smaller male cooed, his hand traveling further down the other male's belly.

Oscar opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was air. Teeth clamping down on his lower lip as his hips bucked violently. "P-P-Please, I want to come." The critic begged.

Nigel's smile grew wider as he snaked his hand underneath the other male's lower belly. His thumb gently flicks across the tip of Oscar's rock-hard cock. The baker flung his head back, whimpering loudly as his nails dug into the couch cushion, his hips bucking a few times against the smaller male's hand. "Does that feel good, baby?" Nigel quizzed as he started pumping his hand.

Blood spilled across the critic's tounge as he gasped loudly. "Yes!" Oscar cried, arching his back slightly. "P-P-Please, Nigel, I want it. Please let me come." The critic breathed breathlessly. Nigel leaned forward, pressing his lips against the other male's taut belly as he started pumping his hand faster. Osar's shallow moans grew louder, as well as Oscar's incoherent mumbling, as he bucked his hips wildly against the smaller. The baker made a mental note to send an apology basket to their neighbors afterward. The critic came on Nigel's hand a few minutes later, panting heavily as sweat slid down either side of his face.

Nigel slowly climbed off the larger male, sauntering into the kitchen to wash his hands before returning to Oscar's side a few minutes later. "Good boy. Let's get you cleaned up and into bed." He murmured. 

Chapter Text

Oscar slowly peeled his eyes open, groaning softly as he gently dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Rubbing the small black dots that danced across his vision away, yawning, the critic shifted towards the edge of the bed. Scratching his stomach subconsciously before rocking himself onto his feet. Waddling towards the bathroom, Oscar flicked the light on before turning the shower on. He peeled his sweat-soaked clothing off, kicked it into the corner, and then finally stepped into the shower. Once the critic was finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and shuffled back into the bedroom, pausing when he heard the soft sound of the TV playing in the background. Oscar quickly got dressed and walked into the living room, noticing the room was brightly decorated with lights and small plastic Christmas trees.

Nigel had his back turned to Oscar, apron gently swaying back and forth as the smaller male hummed and danced. His thin arms were tightly wrapped around a metal bowl, stirring a light brown batter. The older male smirked, padding towards the smaller male and wrapping his arms around Nigel's shoulders, causing the baker to jolt violently. "You scared me, you jerk." Nigel groaned, gently hitting Oscar's chest with the back of his hand. "You're supposed to be asleep still. I don't have anything ready." The smaller male whined, wiggling out of the Critic's grip, setting the bowl down onto the counter.

Oscar hummed, pulling the younger male back against his chest, and then buried his face into the crook of Nigel's neck. "Whatcha making?" The larger male quizzed.

Nigel's cheeks burned as he let out a shaky breath. "Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. But since you're a curious Piglet, I am trying out a new Christmas cupcake for the bakery." He replied, scooping the batter into the cupcake liners. "I'm going to pass them out during the Santa Present Exchange Event next week." He continued.

Oscar chuckled lowly; the Critic's hot breath tickled the smaller male's neck. "Cute little Christmas Elf." The critic muttered, slowly untangling himself from the other male, and leaned against the counter to watch him.

Nigel barked out a laugh as he placed the cupcakes into the oven. Sauntering towards the cupboard and pulling out a large mug, she then filled it with coffee. "It would be better if I had help from Santa himself." He replied, holding out a cup of coffee for the other male.

The larger male carefully grasped the cup and took a slow sip. "I doubt you'd manage to fit me into a Santa suit, Nig. I barely fit into the little clothing I have left now," he said. Nigel remained silent for a moment, his cheeks darkening, while Oscar raised an eyebrow. "You're already considering it, aren't you?" He asked, prompting Nigel to quickly look away. Oscar could see the tension coiling in the smaller man's shoulders as he silently began rinsing the bowls and cups. Nigel's small frame trembled slightly, and Oscar couldn't tell if it was due to fear or the baker's effort to control himself.

A comfortable silence surrounded them as Nigel began preparing another batch of batter. The scent of vanilla and lemon wafted through the kitchen, making Oscar's stomach rumble with hunger. "Why don't you go into the living room, watch the movie, and relax? I'll bring you a couple to sample when they're done," Nigel suggested with a gentle smile. He patted Oscar's belly and then leaned in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. Oscar returned the kiss before waddling into the living room, lowering himself onto the couch, ignoring the loud creaking, and leaning back against the couch while watching Frosty the Snowman on TV. Time seemed to pass slowly around the couple as the critic leaned against the arm of the couch, cheek resting against his hand, while his other hand was resting across his stomach.

At some point in the movie, Nigel appeared next to him with a small plate of a mixture of cupcakes, setting them down next to the male before returning to the kitchen shortly afterward. Oscar glanced down at the plate, his mouth watering slightly as the smell of apple and caramel filled the air. The critic picked up one of the cupcakes, peeling away the wrapper before eagerly shoving the cake into his mouth and biting back a moan of delight. He quickly grabbed a second cupcake, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as a low moan escaped his lips. Oscar's sleep-filled eyes focused on the movie in front of him as he continued eating, caramel and lemon frosting coating his pudgy fingers. Minutes passed before Oscar's frosting-coated fingers scraped against the empty plate; the critic's eyes quickly flicked down, a whine bubbling in the back of his throat. The older male pouted, lapping the remaining frosting on his bulky fingers before crossing them over his chest.

A chuckle escaped Nigel's throat as he walked into the living room, startling Oscar slightly. "What are you pouting about now?" He quizzed, moving the plate to the coffee table before slumping down beside Oscar, setting a hand on his thigh. Before the critic could answer, the smaller male's eyes lingered towards the plate as a soft smirk formed on the baker's face. "Is Santa being greedy again and wanting more cupcakes?" Nigel asked, leaning forward and sprawling himself against Oscar's plush arm. Oscar could feel his cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure as he nodded faintly, observing the smaller male uncoil himself from the larger male's arm, pushing himself off the couch, and then disappearing into the kitchen once more. "I was saving these for next weekend, but I suppose you've been a good boy this year and deserve a treat." The smaller male purred, reappearing next to Oscar a few minutes later.

Nigel held out another small plate. Oscar stared at the coconut cupcakes shaped like polar bear paws, quickly picking one up and stuffing it into his mouth while humming with delight. "Per...fect..." the critic mumbled, snatching another cupcake from Nigel. Nigel remained silent, his blue eyes watching Oscar consume the desserts before curling up next to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around Oscar's large stomach. Oscar ate quietly, frosting and crumbs smearing across his exposed belly while Nigel focused on the movie, gently stroking the bigger man's side. Oscar shifted slightly, burping loudly into his fist as his stomach rested between his thick thighs. The critic's underbelly spilled over the couch a bit, while his upper stomach engulfed his knees. The couch creaked under Oscar's weight as Nigel pushed himself off to change the movie; his phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

The baker took a deep breath, scooping the empty plates from the coffee table and setting them on the counter, before turning his attention to the buzzing device. His expression tightened for a moment before he brought the phone to his ear. Silence filled the apartment, causing a wave of anxiety to rush through Oscar's chest as he observed Nigel's face flash various emotions—anger, disappointment, fear, and then anger again. The smaller male pinched the bridge of his nose before nodding his head and muttering a reply into the phone before quickly hanging up, tossing his phone onto the counter. Turning his back towards the critic as he gripped the counter tightly, teeth clenched tightly. Oscar finished the food in his mouth. "Nig? You okay? What happened?" He called. When the younger male didn't answer, the critic rocked himself onto his feet, thick legs wobbling slightly, Oscar grunting softly as he regained his balance, shuffling towards Nigel. The larger male paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, before setting a hand on the other's shoulder. "Hey, what happened?" He whispered.

Oscar watched as Nigel's shoulder tightened, his small frame shaking violently. The critic could see tears welling in the corners of Nigel's eyes as he sniffled softly. "The professional Santa we hired found out about the loan shark incident and doesn't want to be associated with a potentially failing business," he explained, letting out a shaky breath. "Since he canceled, one of my assistants informed me that we might have to cancel the whole event, especially since two people called out sick with the flu."

The older man remained silent for a few minutes, nodding his head and exhaling softly. Oscar stepped closer, pressing his stomach against Nigel's back as he wrapped a thick arm around the baker's shoulders. "Hey, it'll be alright. I'll call Emily to help out. I'm sure she can spare some time from the office," Oscar said with a shrug. The critic glanced up at the ceiling for a moment; half of Oscar knew that nothing they would find would fit him. He was too big for any costume, so they'd have to improvise, which was a fifty-fifty chance of success. However, a small part of Oscar's mind was overruled by excitement and pleasure. He couldn't wait to see the look on Nigel's face when he squeezed himself into a costume that was too small. The larger male bit down on the inside of his cheek before looking back down at the shorter man. "I'll even dress up as Santa," he added, trailing off.

Nigel wiped the tears streaming down his face with the back of his hand, slowly turning to face the larger male. Sniffling softly as his blue eyes examined Oscar for a few seconds. "No suit is going to fit you." He whispered.

Osar chuckled softly, "We'll improvise! If we get a red tracksuit and a black belt, nobody will notice the difference." He argued, gesturing towards the smaller male.

The baker snorted and rolled his eyes as he wriggled free from Oscar's grip. He brushed past Oscar, running a hand through his messy hair. "What about the employees who are sick? Emily, you and I won't be enough to handle everything, Oscar!" He shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

"Nigel, you have to calm down, or you're going to give yourself an aneurysm."

The smaller male slumped in his chair, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to shout,” he said, his voice trembling. “We’ve been planning this event since our victory over the loan shark, and I just wanted to give something back to the community.” He began to sob.

Oscar smiled softly, walking toward the other male, and set a hand on Nigel's shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's okay, I understand. I'll call Emily in the morning and see if she can find some extra people to help us out with the event. Just take a deep breath and tell me what you need." The critic answered.

The baker took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, his hands still trembling. "We need at least three more people to help out, including a Santa. I have to prepare extra products just in case we run out of the new cupcakes," he listed. Oscar pressed his lips against Nigel's head before slipping into the bedroom, scooping his phone up from the dresser. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Emily's name.

Oscar: Hey, I need a favor; it's a huge one. - 9:00

Emily: Must be if you're texting me instead of banging your hot boyfriend ;)—9:05

Oscar: Must you be gross this late? Anyway, Nigel ran into a snag with his event. I need you to ask around the office and see if anyone wants to help out. - 9:07

Emily: Can do, boss! Anything for our favorite baker, I'm sure I can find a few people. Although they probably want some product in return. - 9:10

Oscar: I'll talk to Nigel about payment. Just meet us at the bakery at nine tomorrow. - 9:11

Emily: You got it, boss! - 9:12

Relief washed over Oscar as he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and tossing his phone onto the bed. He waddled back into the living room and noticed that Nigel hadn't moved from his spot; he had his legs pulled up to his chest. Oscar placed a hand on Nigel's shoulder, startling him out of whatever daze he was in. "Emily said she would meet us at the bakery tomorrow with help," he announced.

"Okay..." 

Chapter Text

Oscar looked down at the red, fluffy cotton tracksuit and the thick black belt, then glanced at his stomach. A wave of anxiety and fear settled in his chest as Nigel threw two large, thick black boots toward him, urging Oscar toward the bedroom before sprinting to the bathroom. The larger male set the costume down on the bed and peeled off his tight sweater, ignoring the way his belly wobbled as he continued undressing. Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat as he picked up the tracksuit. He exhaled softly and slipped his legs in first, biting his lip when the fabric snagged around his thick thighs. Glancing down, Oscar couldn't help but let out a whimper; his thighs looked like sausages that were overly packed in their packaging. Fat rolls rolled up toward his hips, with his love handles pressing tightly against the garment. The bright red material creaked and groaned softly as he continued pulling the tracksuit on. Pausing as his lower belly pressed tightly against the tracksuit, Oscar winced when a few seams along his hips split open, allowing small rolls of fat to spill through the small holes. The critic squeezed his eyes closed as more seams tore, causing slightly larger rolls of fat to ooze out. A few minutes passed before Oscar slowly continued, pulling the snug fabric together and zipping up the tracksuit.

As he did, his larger belly pressed against his upper belly, creating the illusion that his two stomachs formed one gigantic orb. Oscar let out a shaky breath as the metal zipper creaked loudly. He then carefully lowered himself onto the bed, feeling his belly rest heavily against his knees. A few more seams split down Oscar's side, allowing the critic's love handles to spill out even further. Next was the belt, and half of Oscar hoped that whichever god was watching him, the cheap plastic would cover the tears, while the other half of his mind was filled with excitement as his eyes examined the pudgy flesh that oozed through. Running a finger over the split seams, ignoring the way his cock leaped against his thigh. The male quickly pushed the throats to the back of his head, running a shaky hand over the curve of his stomach. Before swiftly turning his attention back to the costume, he quickly buckled the overly tight plastic belt around his stomach, followed by the boots and hat. Oscar knew the suit wouldn't last the whole event; if he was lucky, the tracksuit would last long enough to please Nigel before the too-tight fabric split fully.

Oscar pushed himself back up onto his feet, his cheeks warming slightly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A few minutes later, Nigel stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in his bright green and white costume. The small silver bells around his ankles jingled annoyingly loudly. Nigel paused in the doorway, eyes scanning the larger male, as a predatory smile slowly formed on the baker's face. "I knew you would look hot stuffed in a Santa suit, but I didn't think you'd be that hot, Oscar." He muttered.

Oscar puffed his cheeks slightly, large hands splayed out on the side of his stomach. As the larger male shifted slightly, letting his belly slip in between his legs, spreading his thighs further apart, revealing the series of tears running along the critic's inner thighs. "I don't know if this is a good idea, Nig. I don't think this costume will last very long tonight." He huffed.

The baker stepped away from the doorframe, kneeling before the older man and softly kissing Oscar's large belly. The critic squeaked, flinching slightly as he bit his lower lip. "I think that's a pretty good idea," he said. "It gives me a chance to showcase my prized Piglet, hoping he stays well-behaved while amid pastries in his torn costume." He hummed, lips moving up the critic's stomach.

Oscar could feel his cheeks heat up as he quickly turned his head to the side. "Pervert..." he mumbled.

Nigel pushed himself back up onto his feet, placing his hands on his hips, grinning widely, "Not my fault; you look hot." He replied.

Oscar rolled his eyes, gently hitting the smaller male with the back of his hand. "Okay, pervert, behave yourself. You're supposed to be one of Santa's elves." He replied, waddling out of the bedroom, getting stuck against the bedroom doorway for a brief second before continuing towards the front door.

Nigel hugged his jacket closer to his body as they stepped out into the December night. His small frame trembled slightly while Oscar locked the apartment door behind them. They walked shoulder to shoulder as Nigel stuffed his hands into his jacket, pressing himself against Oscar's hip to block out the freezing wind. "One thing I hate about December is the cold weather." He complained, earning a soft chuckle from the other male. The pair walked for another ten minutes until Nigel noticed the bakery lights illuminating the darkened corner street. Ears perking up slightly when he also noticed Emily and a few coworkers huddled outside in a small group, trying to stay warm.

Emily turned her head, scowling at both men for a few seconds before her expression quickly shifted to a soft smile. "There you two are! We've been waiting for you for hours and nearly froze to death!" she complained loudly. Emily's brown eyes shifted toward Oscar, taking note of his massive belly squeezed into a bright red tracksuit. Oscar anticipated that the editor would tease the critic or comment on his sudden weight gain, especially since they hadn't seen each other in a while. However, nothing came. The smaller woman simply adjusted her thick glasses and folded her arms over her chest. "As requested, I've brought some volunteers to help out with your event. They don't expect much—just a few free samples," she continued.

Nigel barked out a laugh, "Sure, no problem!" He replied, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of leftovers for everyone." He beamed, unlocking the bakery doors, observing everyone rushing inside for warmth.

OoO

As soon as Oscar waddled towards the large chair in the corner of the bakery, decorated with a plastic North Pole, Christmas lights, and fake snow, he knew that the costume wouldn't last long. When Oscar sat down, the zipper strained under the weight of the critic's belly, snapping apart and revealing a few inches of pale, pudgy flesh. More tears ripped along the sides of the costume, allowing additional rolls of fat to spill out; fortunately, the chair and the belt managed to cover them. The large man scanned the crowded bakery, watching as children tugged their parents from stand to stand, eager to see Nigel decorate cookies before dashing to another booth. The older man let out a shuddering breath, his eyes slowly widening as his stomach growled lowly. A few children smiled at Oscar, who nervously waved back at them, silently watching as each child dug through their goodie bags. They began to approach Oscar's chair, setting a cookie, a cupcake, and a brownie on the table next to him. "For your journey home! It's a long way to the North Pole," one little girl commented before dashing off into the crowd with her friends.

Oscar turned towards the desserts, shooting a glare down at his stomach as it growled slightly louder. Every warning bell was ringing in the critic's mind as he slowly reached over to pick up the cookie. The smell of peppermint and chocolate wafted up to his nose, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes drifted down to his stomach, where his large hand rested on the side of his round belly, pressing tightly against the straining zipper of his costume. He knew he shouldn't indulge, as he was already pushing the limits of the suit's durability. Oscar feared that the tight fabric would tear further; just the thought of the bright red tracksuit splitting open across his stomach, causing it to fall into his lap while his large, bloated belly engulfed his knees, and his lower belly spilled over the edge of the chair, and at the same time the cheap black belt and buttons might go flying, potentially traumatizing one of the many children around him sent a wave of different emotions through him.

Oscar had always had a weakness for sweets, especially those made by Nigel. His caution was often overshadowed by pleasure, leading to a familiar situation that he found himself in whenever he indulged too much. There he would be, his hefty frame stuck in the middle of a broken chair or some piece of furniture, his pudgy arms and legs flailing in the air as Nigel watched him like a shark circling its prey. Oscar swallowed thickly, his hands shaking slightly as he brought the cookie to his mouth and took a large bite. He fought back a moan that threatened to escape him as his eyes rolled back slightly in delight. Leaning his head against the couch, he quickly scarfed down the rest of the cookie and reached for a glass of milk, chugging it down eagerly. The cupcake and brownie followed shortly afterward. "Glad to see you enjoying yourself finally," Nigel whispered, his small hands massaging the curve of Oscar's stomach as he set another cup of milk on the table. The baker gently pecked the older man on the cheek before slipping back into the crowd. A few minutes passed before another group of children excitedly approached the larger man, placing a couple of desserts on the table before dashing off.

Oscar shot a glare in Nigel's direction, fully aware of what the younger man was planning. Despite knowing he should be upset, Oscar felt an unexpected sense of acceptance. Both men understood that Oscar could easily pout and refuse to eat for hours, playing his part for a little while before retreating to bed for the night without any real consequences. However, they also knew that the pull of hunger and temptation would eventually overwhelm him. If he was lucky, Oscar might hold out for an hour or two before the hunger drove him mad, forcing him to give in. He hated how predictable he was, but a small part of him no longer cared. He had given in to being the overweight house pet months ago and couldn't remember his life before meeting the baker. Oscar inhaled the next batch of treats, ignoring the snugness of the suit growing tighter around his stomach as he continued to eat. Two groups of kids turned into four, and each one handed Oscar two or more treats as he jotted down what presents they wanted. The thick eggnog sat heavily in his bloated belly.

Once the children were out of sight, the fatter male shifted, placing one hand beneath his belly and biting down on his lower lip as he watched the zipper being pushed down further. His belly surged forward, engulfing his lap, while soft tears filled his eyes. His lower belly spilled through the gaps in the suit, pressing between his thighs and spreading them apart slightly. The black belt pressed tightly against Osar's belly, causing him to flinch. Meanwhile, two more groups of children rushed toward the chair, eagerly emptying their goodie bags onto the table. "Santa, Santa, I brought your favorite cookies!" One of the children exclaimed, proudly arranging thick brownies in a row. She chattered enthusiastically about different toys, pausing occasionally to ensure that Osar was enjoying her treats. The critic counted twelve groups of children before he started to slow down. More of his lower belly spilled through as the tears continued to grow, pushing his legs further apart. His zipper revealed the large curve of Oscar's belly, giving anyone who dared to peek a full view of his over-bloated stomach. Oscar panted softly, his cheeks flushed pink from exhaustion, while pain gradually spread throughout his abdomen. His belly rested heavily in his lap as his belt was slowly engulfed by the expanding mass.

With dazed eyes, he stared at the line of children, his stomach lurching at the thought of more desserts. Oscar couldn't determine whether the soft creaking sound was coming from the belt or the suit itself, and a wave of panic surged in his chest. He scanned the crowded bakery for Nigel, who was surrounded by mothers, likely either begging for his recipes or trying to hire him for their children's birthday parties. The creaking sound gradually grew louder as the thirteenth child bounced into Oscar's lap, placing mini cupcakes along the table, followed by a few tarts. The critic found himself half-listening to the kids' speeches; his body was on autopilot as he brought one of the overly sweet tarts to his mouth. Time seemed to freeze when the child slipped off his lap, disappearing into the crowd just before a loud pop filled the room. Oscar's eyes widened in shock as the belt rocketed from underneath his belly, shooting into the fake snow. He glanced down in horror as a series of loud, tearing sounds followed suit. Now free from its confines, his belly surged forward, filling his lap entirely, while his lower belly spilled over the edge of the chair, forcing his legs to brush against the chair arms. Biting down on his lower lip until copper coated his tongue, he dug his nails into the fake wood as the zipper finally gave way, ricocheting off the plastic decoration and disappearing into the faux snow.

The older male was thankful nobody was around, and Nigel closed the 'North Pole' as Oscar's whines melted into low moans as his bloated belly bounced violently, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Panting heavily, he barely registered the blurred figure of Nigel draping a coat over his exposed belly, disappearing behind the curtain as he urged everyone to continue enjoying the party as he escorted Santa back to his sleigh. The brisk, cold air bit at Oscar's belly as Nigel hurriedly pulled the larger man down the sidewalk. Oscar whimpered and moaned softly, his head buried against the side of Nigel's shoulder as he waddled beside him. Time seemed to fly by for the dazed critic as Nigel pushed them both into the apartment, tearing the tight jacket from Oscar's shoulders and staring at the exposed, bloated gut that swayed slightly. "God, do you know how hard it was not to jump you right there, Osc?" he muttered, gently guiding the heavier man into the bedroom. He smirked as Oscar's round, fat rolls caught in the doorframe. Once Oscar was freed, he waddled towards the bed, while Nigel gently removed the tight boots from his feet and tossed the white buttons attached to a thin string into the trash bin.

When the older male simply grunted, Nigel paused, smiling softly as he pressed his lips against the side of Oscar's head, trailing them along the male's forehead. "You did so good for me, piglet." He praised lowly. "Eating whatever was put in front of you until you burst out of your costume, I was starting to worry you weren't going to eat anything tonight." Nigel continued. Oscar silently listened to the younger man ramble on while he peeled away the tattered clothing. Nigel's cold lips pressed against Oscar's warm, taut skin, causing the critic to gasp softly. The baker glanced at the small pile of ruined clothes, his lips pressed into a scowl before breaking into a proud smile a few minutes later. "We're going to have to get you some new clothes, piglet. I don't think we have anything that fits you anymore; you've outgrown everything," he commented, chuckling lowly. His small hand slid beneath Oscar's belly, lifting it slightly before letting go. He watched as the massive orb of flesh bounced and swayed, then he added with a mischievous smirk, "Too fat for any clothing; I might as well just get you a collar and call it good with how quickly you keep growing." With that, he gently pressed his thumb against the bloated flesh before slowly gliding it across Oscar's navel, eliciting another pitiful whimper from him.

Nigel continued for a few minutes, his smile growing wider with each gasp and moan that escaped Oscar's lips. The critic let out a labored breath, opening his mouth slightly, but only air came out. The heavier male stood silently for a moment before speaking again. "T-T-Too full...T-too much..." he muttered, his dazed eyes looking up at Nigel. "P-P-Please, Nig..." he whimpered softly. The baker inhaled and exhaled softly as his hands moved up to Oscar's hair, gently pulling before slowly releasing it. Oscar's muddled brain barely registered the words softly tickling his neck as Nigel pressed a series of kisses down the critic's neck towards his shoulder blade. Carefully brushing past the larger male, he pulled the covers up before lowering him down onto the bed. Pulling the covers up over Oscar's chest, I switched off the lamp and began to spin on the heel of my boots. Just then, Oscar quickly grabbed my wrist, pulling me down onto the bed. "Stay, please Nig." he mumbled groggily, wrapping his strong arms around me and burying his face between my shoulder blades. Nigel smiled gently as he snuggled under the blankets, pressing his body against Oscar's warm skin.

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, and he knew it was either Emily or one of his employees wondering where he had disappeared to. Nigel knew that Emily would draw conclusions pretty quickly after she noticed Oscar was missing as well, and the smaller male couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as well as excitement fill Nigel's chest. The smaller male relaxed against Oscar's soft chest, exhaustion finally catching up to the baker as his head lolled to the side, resting against the fatter male's plush arm before falling asleep shortly afterward.