Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The warmth of the early sun that flitted through the trees reflected the end of summer. The foliage was a little less green and Bill had been on earth long enough to notice the subtle changes that indicated fall was on the horizon.

A cool breeze nipped at Bill’s skin as he sat on the porch, cup of coffee in hand. He held the mug a little tighter, the warmth seeping through to his fingers. While he had come to enjoy the beauty of fall, he thought farther ahead to the long cold winter that would inevitably trail behind it and frowned before pulling the cup to his lips.

Best to enjoy the warmth while it lasted.

Bill usually awoke before everyone else in the shack. Judging by the way the sun hung low on the horizon, it would be another hour or so before the elder Pines twins were up for the day. Soos and Melody would soon follow them.

But for now, Bill enjoyed the quiet of the world.

He didn't know what had prompted the change. Prodding into his own memories as a human, it felt like one day he woke up and the world around him looked a little brighter. The song birds and chittering bugs brought a sense of peace and he no longer needed the chaos to drown out the endless buzzing of self hatred and guilt that plagued his existence.

Well.

That wasn't entirely true, he knew what changed.

He had changed.

Bill frowned as he gave it deeper thought. It probably had something to do with being around “healthy” mindsets, and the fact that he started developing healthy thoughts of his own.

After learning the circumstances of Bill’s arrival and his failed sentencing to the Theraprisim, Shooting Star became annoyingly incessant about hosting her own therapy sessions with him. She was freakishly good at reading people and before Bill knew it, he was spilling his deepest darkest confessions to her.

She listened with no judgment and sympathized with him. It was the first time in his billion years of existence he felt seen and understood.

Who knew relying on others wasn't just a gimmick for weak losers.

Bill snorted into his mug.

Sometimes he truly hated his own humanity that had forced him to heal. He thought of where he'd be right now if he had succeeded in worldly domination of dimension 46’\.

He found that it left a bitter taste in his mouth instead of the satisfaction it might have brought him four years ago.

Who could have ever imagined so much change was possible under the right conditions.

Being better just for the sake of it was a bitch and a half but Bill thought about the emptiness that had always been settled deep in his chest long before he was ever human. It wrapped around his organs, holding them hostage. There was always the looming threat of that pit growing until there wasn't room for anything else, consuming him completely.

It used to bubble constantly, sitting just below the surface of his skin but as the years passed, Bill found it started to loosen and fill as the connections around him formed into genuine relationships.

Although, with a little prodding and lots of self loathing, that pit was always easy to bring back to the surface. Bill thought for a moment about summoning it, but he quickly realized he didn't want it there. The anger and loneliness didn't quite fit into the life he had made for himself.

He took a sip of his coffee and wrinkled his nose to find it had gone lukewarm.

Sighing, he figured it was probably time to head in anyways, the rest of the Mystery Shack’s residents would be rising soon.

Bill stood up with a stretch, his shoulders ached where he had been hunched over on the bench. Maybe Sixer was right about fixing his posture but Bill blamed the Axolotl for giving him an already aged body that was sore and weak all the time. He guessed it was to hinder any attempts of a physcial attack he might have once taken on the residents of Gravity Falls.

Pushing through the door and making his way to the kitchen, Bill’s stomach began to grumble as he excitedly recognized the smell of bacon frying.

On his way, he took note of the walls full of new pictures of that summer’s memories. He hated to admit it, but the house already felt so empty without the younger Pines twins wrecking their havoc, gone for the end of summer. The three months flew past and Bill was a little sad to see them go. It had been fun having them around.

He stopped suddenly in the entry to the kitchen to take in the sight of Ford standing at the stove. Concentration knitted in his brows while Bill remained unnoticed.

“Heya, hot stuff!” Bill grinned and Ford’s expression relaxed as he turned to acknowledge him where he stood in the doorway. “When'd you get up?”

“Not long after you,” Ford stated, turning his head back to the stove. He cursed softly as a piece of bacon popped and specks of hot oil splattered against his forearm.

“I didn't wake you did I?” Bill crossed the small kitchen to the microwave. As the mechanical buzz filled his ears, Bill leaned his back against the counter, planting himself right next to Ford so they faced each other. He slouched lazily as his elbows folded behind him, keeping him propped up.

“No,” Ford answered sheepishly, a six finger hand reaching out to rest on the counter next to Bill’s, their arms brushing. “I was planning on being up early anyways.”

Bill hummed, finding a loose thread on the cuff of Ford’s sweater he quickly ran it between his fingers. He could sense there was more Ford wanted to say and he was right as Ford quickly filled the silence between them.

“You know, um-” Ford lifted his hand from Bill’s grasp to run his fingers through his graying hair. He gave a grounding tug before he continued awkwardly.

“Well today marks three years since you were sent to Gravity Falls and I thought- well since you don't have an actual birthday that can be marked on a regular calendar I thought we could- you know, celebrate.”

Oh.

“You're giving me a birthday?” Bill couldn't help as a laugh bubbled up in his chest.

“Well when you say it like that,” Ford grumbled with annoyance, turning his attention back to the stove.

Human’s were so sentimental with their feelings. The desire didn't resonate with Bill, the strange need to celebrate the same day every year because it had marked the passing of time was so foreign to him.

But he supposed that was when he had unlimited time. Now, each year that passed him by was another year closer to his body’s expiration. What happened after, he wasn't so sure but he did his best not to dwell too hard on it because he'd made that mistake before and it sent him into a spiral that lasted for days.

Bill mulled it over for another moment.

“That sounds nice,” It wasn't what Bill wanted to say, but he learned Ford was weirdly sensitive to rejection.

It was his own trauma or whatever emotional issues he had. A decent amount of which had been caused by Bill, but hey! They were working on it.

“I'm glad you said that or else I would have made this breakfast for nothing,” Ford paused before adding sheepishly. “And I wouldn't have asked Stanley to pick up a cake.”

“I would have eaten it anyways,” Bill shrugged as he tried to reach for a piece of finished bacon. Ford smacked at his hand half heartedly.

“I know you would have,” Ford teased before poking at Bill’s rounded belly which earned a indignant grunt from him.

“You like it, you freak,” Bill grumbled, swatting away Ford’s hand, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Ford grinned as his hands shot up in a “you got me” pose. Bill relaxed a little as Ford returned to his cooking, a comfortable silence settling between them. With the bacon finished, he started preparing eggs to scramble.

Okay, so Bill had gained a bit of weight. Sue him! When he'd arrived in Gravity Falls, food was just a necessity to fuel his body and nothing more. As he and Ford grew closer over the years, food was around and constant and maybe Bill liked it that way.

Ford’s love language was providing and the best way he found to provide was through food.

Bill had a bad day? Ford baked cookies.

They fought? Ford took them out to dinner to make up.

Nightmare? Hot chocolate in the kitchen.

In a lifetime where food hadn’t always been easily accessible, it made sense why Ford always wanted to make sure Bill was well fed.

These days though, Bill could probably do with a little less feeding if the tightness of his pants was anything to go off of.

He had just got them at the start of summer too. He thought back to that morning as he sucked in his belly to get them done up and figured new clothes were on his (expanding) horizon. Bill made a note to himself to get on that sooner rather than later otherwise he would be stuck with nothing that fit properly.

But aside from a new set of clothes here and there, neither Bill or Ford really complained about the accumulated weight.

There were comments from the rest of the shack’s residents of course. Dipper and Stan took to making fun of him for his increased appetite as Bill often took seconds and sometimes even thirds at dinner. He always laughed sarcastically, flipping the bird whenever Mabel wasn't looking (what she didn't know wouldn’t hurt her, Bill had made enough charitable donations to her swear jar).

Mabel, Soos and Melody were much kinder in their approach, often telling him he looked happy and settled. Bill quickly learned that was code for domestic and fat.

Bill didn't mind though, as long as Ford was happy, he didn't give a shit about what he looked like.

And Bill gathered that Ford was more than happy with the changes in his body. When they fucked, Ford’s hands always found themselves planted on his belly. Gentle fingers turned into groping touches as if Ford couldn't get enough of his expanded waistline.

Sometimes after dinners where Bill ate far too much, he often found himself retiring to their room early. Ford was never far behind, always ready to sooth Bill’s overfilled gut with lots of gentle rubs and words of encouragement.

Bill’s train of thoughts were interrupted as a fork was lifted to his lips.

“Do these need more salt?”

Bill wrapped his lips around the fork, making eye contact with Ford as he slowly pulled the utensil from his mouth.

“Mhm,” Bill hummed, they were rich and fluffy and loaded with cheese. “They're perfect.”

“Good,” Ford smiled. “Set the table?”

“It's my birthday, isn't it?” Bill rolled his eyes but obliged him.

As he reached above Ford for plates, Bill’s hand lingered for a few moments longer than it needed to on his hip.

Bill and Ford weren't big on PDA, especially in the kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. However, the sly touches felt secretive and exciting even though the whole house knew there was some sort of romance going on between them.

Their affection was usually reserved just for them. Bill didn't need the rest of the household ogling him everytime he wanted to hold Ford’s hand. He had needs too, contrary to popular belief!

As Bill set the table, Ford began bringing over plates of food. Fat sausages and bacon, eggs, and a heaping stack of cinnamon sugar pancakes that had been keeping warm in the oven.

Perfect timing as Stan shuffled into the kitchen, yawning appreciatively as Bill poured him a mug of steaming coffee, setting it at the table. Soos and Melody streamed into the kitchen behind him, dressed and ready for another day of work in the shack.

The fall usually brought a slow season with a handful of stragglers visiting the shack here and there. It would only be another couple of months before they closed up shop for the winter, Melody and Soos would be visiting her family out east for the holidays.

Stan and Ford had done their years of adventuring and when Stan decided retirement suited him, Ford quickly followed in his footsteps.

Well, Ford was as retired as he could be. He had started working on a new journal, still cataloging his findings of Gravity Falls. Bill had started trailing behind on whatever adventures Ford found himself on. He had come to enjoy spending the time with Ford, usually those moments became the highlight of Bill’s week.

“Smells good!” Soos complimented Ford before turning to Bill who had just taken his own seat at the table. “Happy three years in Gravity Falls, dude!”

Bill nodded in thanks, starting to pile food on his plate unceremoniously. Kindness was something that still made him uncomfortable at times and he wasn't always sure how to accept it.

Bill ate as Soos and Stan started shop talk, Soos asking for advice about something business related that Bill didn't care too much about. Melody started adding her own thoughts to the conversation and soon the whole table was chatting amicably.

Ford watched Bill slowly polish off his plate. As Bill took his last bite of eggs, he sat back in his chair contentedly.

“More?” Ford asked quietly as their counterparts continued talking loudly amongst themselves.

“Yeah, why not,” Bill shrugged. He normally kept his breakfast light but it was good and those pancakes were practically calling his name. Ford passed the plate to him and Bill loaded a couple more on his plate before reaching for the rest of the eggs and bacon.

After the second plate, a comfortable fullness had washed over Bill and he subtly pressed a hand to his belly giving a gentle rub. He flushed a little as he realized Ford was watching him from across the table. Bill considered doubling down, but he really didn't want to walk out of a full kitchen with a hard on.

Early into his earthly experience he learned that was considered rude. Who knew.

As breakfast wound down, Soos and Melody excused themselves to open the shack and Stan followed to help out for the day. With Wendy back to school in Washington, they were down a staff member for a few weeks until they closed for the season.

Ford started to clean up, clearing Bill’s plate for him.

“So what's on the itinerary for today?” Bill asked. “Considering it's my birthday and all.”

“Oh,” Ford turned to look at him with surprise. “I had something planned today for my research on banshees, I didn't realize you’d want to do anything.”

Bill shrugged, it wasn't a big deal.

“Want to come with?” Ford asked before his face softened. “It’s a little bit of a hike but it'll be more enjoyable with a partner.”

“You’re such a sap,” Bill teased, warmth coiled in his belly as he bumped his shoulder into Ford’s.

***

A bit of a hike was an understatement.

Bill huffed and puffed as he tried to keep on pace with Ford.

Man, he was out of shape.

Ford was presumably in a body older than his own and he managed just fine. Stupid Ford and his stupid exercise regime.

Ford kept taking breaks to stop and admire a piece of foliage here and there and Bill knew it was to spare him the dignity of having to ask for a break.

As Bill was about to ask how much further, Ford broke out into a sprint.

“Here!”

Ford rushed forward and Bill quickly followed, his body slower but still managing to keep up just behind Ford.

Just as quickly as he started running, Ford stopped dead in his tracks. Bill couldn't help but nearly crash into him at the sudden stop, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

A beautiful clearing spread out before them, a picnic blanket set up and a wicker basket sat neatly on top of it. Bill couldn't help but notice a bottle of red wine and glasses set up beside it as well.

Realization dawned on Bill’s face. He had been set up.

“Ford,” Bill gasped as he collapsed on the forest floor. “If you ever make me run like that again for a picnic I think I'll kill you.”

A laugh from Ford, real and genuine broke the silence of the forest. Despite his best efforts, it made Bill giggle as well. Ford reached a hand down to help Bill up and he took it graciously.

They didn't let go even after Bill was standing and steady.

Ford led him to the blanket and gestured for Bill to sit first, like a gentleman.

“This better be worth it,” Bill grumbled as Ford hushed him.

An impressive range of chocolate covered fruits were tucked carefully into the basket. Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, kiwis. God, Ford spoiled him.

Ford quickly uncorked the bottle of wine before pouring out two glasses for them.

“Thank you,” Bill said as Ford handed it to him. It was a little too genuine to be solely for the glass.

“Of course,” Ford smiled in understanding.

He reached out a hand to lay it gently over Bill’s, who in turn wrapped their fingers together. It was peaceful like this out in the open. It felt nice that their affection wasn't confined to their shared room for once.

They laughed and ate and drank as the sun rose higher in the sky. The warm rays easily made up for the nip in the air.

It only took a couple glasses of wine for Bill’s face to flush as he leaned back, letting the cool breeze wash over his skin.

Ford topped him off and Bill could tell he was feeling a little tipsy as well by the way his fingers fumbled with the cork.

“So your plan was to get me drunk in the middle of the woods and have your way with me?” Bill laughed as Ford thought about it a little too hard.

“Yes, precisely,” Ford pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose where they had started to slip.

“You're a sick man, Stanford Pines,” Bill reached out a hand to run it gently through Ford’s hair.

“Mhm,” Ford hummed in agreement.

He lifted a chocolate covered strawberry from the dwindling tray of fruit and pressed it to Bill’s lips. Bill accepted it graciously. Ford’s fingers pushed into his mouth and Bill ran his tongue over them, sucking the chocolate residue from the digits.

Bill was arguably still pretty full from breakfast. His belly felt round and distended and awfully restricted by his clothes, even more so from the several glasses of wine that further weighed down his stomach. That didn’t matter too much though because Ford had that look of determination in his eye and Bill was set on finishing the assortment of decadent fruits for him.

Ford shifted closer to Bill, pressing another strawberry to his lips. Ford used his empty hand to push Bill’s shirt over his stomach and deftly undid the pants button that sat uncomfortably under his gut. The release of pressure had his belly expanding further into the space, pushing the zipper down and slotting between the flaps of the pants.

“I didn't realize these were so tight already,” Ford admitted breathlessly, reaching a hand underneath his belly to soothe the red, angry marks from where his pants dug into his hips.

“Everything is tight,” Bill complained as one of his own hands joined Ford and gave a little rub. “I need new shirts too. They’ve started riding up again.”

Ford pulled the shirt down again and sure enough, it sat in a way that suggested it would expose soft flesh at the slightest movement.

“You're fat,” Ford observed excitedly as he pushed another fruit into Bill’s mouth.

“Gee thanks,” Bill rolled his eyes as he chewed but delight spread warmly in his chest.

“No,” Ford shook his head. “You've been chubby for a while but lately….”

Ford trailed off. Thinking took so much effort when he was drunk.

“You just look bigger. You are bigger.” Ford paused, his pupils blown as he pinched gently at Bill’s full side before shrugging. “You're fat now.”

“Hmm,” Bill mulled it over, looking down at where his own belly sat heavy and round in his lap.

He supposed there was a bit of truth to Ford’s words. Bill had been catching himself growing surprised at his own size as well lately. He found himself bumping into furniture he used to slip past with ease, unused to the added mass of his body.

And when he looked in mirrors, his face was noticeably rounder as well. Even without ducking his chin he could see the padding of fat that sat under it.

The thoughts made Bill’s dick twitch in his pants.

“Do you not like it?” Ford asked nervously. Bill hadn't noticed the look of worry forming on his face as he became lost in his own thoughts.

“It's a bit late to be asking that, don't you think?” Bill rolled his eyes. Leave it to Ford to start worrying six months late. “Of course I like it, IQ.”

“Good,” Relief flashed on Ford’s face for a moment before the troubled look was back again. “You'd tell me if you didn't, right?”

“When have you ever known me to do something I don't like?” Bill asked pointedly.

Ford thought about it for a moment.

“Never.”

“Right,” Bill said. “Now please keep feeding me.”

Ford nodded enthusiastically, lifting bite after bite to his mouth. Bill graciously accepted each one, putting on a show of just how much he enjoyed each piece.

“I’m so full,” Bill panted, palming his full gut, it felt warm under his hands.

A grunt escaped from the back of Ford’s throat as he ran a hand over the crest of Bill’s full belly.

“I think you're going to have to roll me back,” Bill added in a thick, sultry tone. “There's no way I'm walking after this.”

Ford dropped the piece of fruit in his hand back on the platter in favor of pressing his lips against Bill’s.

Bill hummed as he granted Ford access to his mouth, parting his lips slightly. He tasted sweet from his own samples of the ripe fruit.

Bill protested as Ford pulled away but it died in his throat as Ford’s mouth pressed hotly against Bill’s pulse point on his neck. His heart thrummed rapidly and he moaned a little as the wet kisses continued further down his throat.

Ford paused grunting uncomfortably as he tried to find a position that didn't make his knees ache.

Bill whined in annoyance but took a moment to sit up a little more and stretch out his back after realizing Ford wasn't going to be getting comfortable anytime soon.

“Being old sucks,” He complained, rubbing his elbow where it had been digging into the ground. “You should have brought a mattress out here or something.”

“You're not even as old as me,” Ford barked a laugh.

He sat next to Bill in defeat. Even if they could find a comfortable position, the soreness afterwards wouldn't be worth it.

“Actually, I think I've got a few million years on you,” Bill scoffed, picking a stray leaf from Ford’s hair.

“Your physical form,” Ford clarified. “You're probably only 50? Meanwhile I just turned 62.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

They both sat in silence, Ford pressing his shoulder firmly against Bill’s, their fingers twined together.

“I was serious when I said I wasn't walking back.” Bill reminded him. He was still uncomfortably full and he didn't think he could button his pants again even if he wanted to.

“Hm, I didn't really think that far ahead,” Ford admitted, reaching his empty hand over to soothe the fullness again. Bill hummed in approval.

Ford took a few minutes to really admire Bill’s body. Pressing a chaste kiss to Bill’s cheek as his hands worked themselves into soft flesh.

His belly sat pronounced and comfortable, resting entirely on the tops of his thickened thighs. Ford stuck his hand underneath Bill’s gut, his whole hand engulfed under the roll of fat. The sight made Ford’s mouth water.

“If we start walking back now,” Ford bit his lip. “I'll suck you off while you stuff yourself on your birthday cake.”

Bill laughed before seriously thinking it over. Ford stood and reached out a hand to help Bill up, he considered it for another moment before taking Ford’s hand in his own.

“You've got yourself a deal.”

Chapter Text

“I can't believe I let you talk me into that.”

Bill collapsed onto the bed with a groan. Ford grimaced as muddy boots hung over the edge, caking their bedspread with dirt. Inspecting the damage, Ford quickly untied the shoes and dropped them to the floor to which Bill grunted in appreciation.

Early into their relationship, Ford had learned to pick and choose his battles.

Dirty shoes in the bed was one he would always go to bat for. Ford opened his mouth to snark at Bill but thought better of it. He had just dragged Bill three miles into the woods, got him drunk, stuffed him, then made him hike three miles back.

Maybe he didn't quite have a winning argument there.

Ford sighed, opting to crawl into bed with Bill instead. The sheets could be washed anyways.

With careful movement, Ford positioned himself over Bill who opened an eye lazily. The expression of mild annoyance that seemed to be semi-permanently stuck to his face melted away into a suspicious smile as Ford leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“You're in a mood,” Bill remarked as Ford pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. He still tasted sweet from the decadent fruit they had shared earlier that morning.

“What, I can't appreciate you?” Ford smiled down at Bill affectionately.

A hand reached up to pull Ford’s glasses from his face before casting them to the nightstand.

“Nope, not allowed,” Bill pushed Ford’s shoulder and Ford gave into the motion, furthering himself down Bill's body. “Not unless you're willing to do a certain appreciation that you promised.”

“We just got back!” Ford laughed. “You don't want to wait until after dinner?”

“Nah, I'm ready for cake now,” Bill grinned. “I’m digested! Enough. Besides, that hike really worked up an appetite.”

Ford sat up from where he had been crowded over Bill in order to do his own investigating. He pulled Bill’s tight shirt over the crest of his belly and Bill pulled it the rest of the way off to cast lazily on the floor. Ford gave a poke, feeling for the tautness in his stomach. Bill gave an uncharacteristic squeak and defensively pushed Ford’s hands away.

“Would you stop doing that?” Bill snapped, sitting up to protect his belly from Ford’s teasing touches.

“Sorry!” Ford laughed before relaxing his face. A slight grin still tugged at the corners of his lips as he did his best to hide his amusement.

Bill rolled his eyes but leaned back again allowing Ford to continue his inspection. Ford quickly took the invitation to unbutton Bill’s pants once again. He watched hungrily as Bill’s stomach expanded into his lap.

It had taken a lot of work to get them done up, but between Bill and Ford, they had managed to get the ill-fitting pants buttoned just below his hips.

Skilled hands roamed over Bill’s sides, giving tentative squeezes at the softest parts of his belly before traveling up to the tight curve of his stomach.

“I don't know, still feels pretty full to me,” Ford teased, gently working his fingers into the flesh.

Bill was right about not being as full as before. Some of the bloating had already dissipated but his stomach was still distended as it worked on digesting everything Bill had crammed into it that morning.

“Mm, not full enough for cake though,” Bill winked, heavy and exaggerated.

“You're going to spoil your dinner,” Ford shook his head but he was already lifting himself from the bed to retrieve the cake from the kitchen.

“Probably not,” Bill shrugged and it was the truth.

Soos was making his famous spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tonight for Soos’s Spaghetti Sunday. Bill looked forward to it all week and he wasn't planning on missing out just because he was a little full.

“Probably not,” Ford echoed as he left the room.

He returned a few moments later, a delicately ribboned box, plate, fork and milk jug all balanced between his arms. Ford made swift work of carefully depositing his goodies on the bed and Bill reached for the box, quickly uniting the ribbon and pulling it open.

A beautifully decorated chocolate cake sat in the box and Bill admired the thick coat of frosting that covered it.

Oh yeah. This was going to be worth it.

The bed dipped as Ford tucked himself neatly next to Bill and he carefully began to cut the cake into eight uniform slices. He deposited the first one on a plate that he smoothly handed to Bill. It was a triple layer cake with thick helpings of whipped chocolate cream between the sheets of pastry.

“Mmph!” Bill moaned in delight as he hungrily took his first bite.

He let the flavors melt on his tongue before swallowing thickly and gesturing for Ford to pour him a glass of milk. The cake was so rich and thick but the sweetness of the frosting perfectly balanced out the airy cake. Bill quickly washed it down with a swig from the cup.

Ford watched intently as Bill devoured the first slice, taking his time to really enjoy each bite of the fattening dessert.

As Bill chewed the final forkful, Ford was ready with the next wedge, dropping it onto his plate. Bill wasted no time in pulling the plate closer to him, bringing another mouthful of dense cake to his lips.

After Bill’s second and third servings, a fourth was quickly loaded on his plate. He took a forkful of the dessert before pausing in consideration. A smile crept up his lips as he delicately pressed the fork to Ford’s mouth. Ford looked at him skeptically for a moment before accepting it.

“It's good, isn't it?” Bill asked excitedly, lifting another bite to Ford’s lips before he had even finished the first.

“Very,” Ford replied after he swallowed thickly, turning his head to reject the second mouthful. “Bill, I don't-”

“C’mon Sixer,” Bill prompted, cutting him off with a sly smile. “One slice isn't gonna kill you.”

Ford shot him a slight glare but hesitantly opened his mouth to accept anyways.

On occasion, Bill had given him bites of food from his own fork when he wanted Ford to try something but never like this. Ford found it oddly intimate, being hand fed in this context. His insides warmed as Bill’s eyes began to darken with lust at every bite Ford took from him.

As Ford chewed around the last forkful, he sighed as he swallowed, his stomach felt tight from the large piece of cake that now sat heavy in his abdomen.

“Full?”

“A little,” Ford said in honesty.

“Good,” Bill purred, reaching out a hand to run it up Ford’s side.

The affectionate movement made Ford flush under the sudden attention but before he could show Bill how much he truly enjoyed it, the hand was gone.

Bill reached out to pull another slice from the box and began to dig into it with gusto. Ford frowned a little, he had been half expecting Bill to feed him the next slice as well but he shrugged it off as an obscene moan slipped from Bill’s lips, cramming each bite of his fourth serving into his mouth.

The sound sent a wave of pleasure through Ford and he shifted uncomfortably as his pants began to tighten.

It was after this slice that Bill began to slow a bit. He gently reached for Ford’s hands that had been rubbing soothingly into his sides and repositioned them to the roundest part of his belly in request. Ford immediately put his hands to work as Bill took a few sips from his glass.

“Need a moment?” Ford asked.

Bill grunted as he shifted his position from where he had been sitting in favor of leaning his back against the headboard of the bed. He settled in against the soft pillows and spread his legs out further, trying to give his full stomach as much room as he could manage.

“Nah, I'm good,” He replied, with a shake of his head, much more comfortable in his new position. “Can you get me more?”

Obliging, Ford reached for the sixth slice from the box and Bill’s fifth. There were only two left and judging by Bill’s current state, Ford figured this would probably be his last one.

He quickly took advantage of Bill’s exposed position to straddle his lap. Ford gave a lazy grind where Bill was half hard in his pants and desire sparked in his chest as he listened to Bill stifle a moan at the sudden pressure. Bill reached his hands out to still Ford’s hips against his own.

Resting the plate on the bed next to them, Ford began to feed Bill, pausing to rub his distended belly in between each bite.

About halfway through the slice, Bill stopped Ford’s hand where it waited at his mouth. Bill grabbed the fork from him and sloppily shoved it towards Ford who accepted it graciously.

“Planning on following in my footsteps, Fordsy?”

Ford choked around the bite he was chewing, the question sent further heat to his stomach and groin.

“N-no,” Ford cleared his throat but a subtle flush was creeping up his neck. “Wasn't planning on it, no.”

“That's a shame,” Bill grinned slyly. “You'd look good with a few extra pounds on you.”

Ford grunted as another bite was pushed into his mouth. By the time Bill finished feeding him the rest of the serving, his own stomach was feeling tight with fullness.

He tried his best to repress the ache of his now fully hard cock straining against his pants but he couldn't help but moan as Bill’s hand steadily crept up under his sweater to palm his bloated belly.

“It suits you, y’know,” Bill reasoned, giving the taut flesh a tentative squeeze as he rolled his hips up into Ford, searching for a pressure against his fully hard cock.

Bill rucked up the sweater and spent another few moments examining the barely there curve of Ford’s full stomach. Ford began absentmindedly rutting his hips against him and Bill took the opportunity to pull his hands away.

“I think I'm ready for my gift now,” Bill panted, from fullness or from his own lust, Ford wasn't sure but his head spun at the sudden redirection.

Bill was evil like that. Ford could be a bit of a prude and Bill took delight in slowly getting him hot and bothered and comfortable with something only to make him beg for it later on. Bill relished at the disheveled mess Ford was in his lap, meeting Ford’s frown with a lazy grin of his own.

However, Ford obliged, lifting himself up from Bill’s lap. He hastily pulled Bill’s pants further down his hips, exposing his swollen cock. Precome beaded at the slit and Bill moaned as Ford’s hot breath teased the sensitive skin. He whined for a moment as Ford lifted himself to press a sloppy kiss against Bill’s mouth but he quickly relented, granting Ford access as he parted his lips.

Just as Bill began to deepen the kiss, Ford broke away and before he could protest once again, hot kisses started at his belly as Ford mouthed wetly at the overworked skin.

Bill bit his lip and gripped at the sheets as an experienced tongue dipped into his navel.

Ford was a degenerate.

Bill wouldn't have it any other way.

Needy fingers threaded through Ford’s hair, pushing his head further down to Bill’s aching cock. Ford got the hint and quickly wrapped a wet mouth around Bill, carefully sheathing his teeth. Bill hissed above him, reaching for his stomach to give Ford a little more leeway as he began bobbing his head up and down the sensitive shaft.

Ford’s tongue circled around the head of Bill’s cock and he nearly saw stars as Ford then took Bill so far into his own throat he nearly gagged. Tears rimmed his eyes as he began to increase the speed and pressure around Bill’s throbbing cock.

“Fuck, Ford!” Bill cried out. His stomach coiled tightly as his hips unwillingly jerked. The movement had Bill’s dick grazing the back of his throat and Ford almost choked but he determinedly continued on with the same intensity.

Bill’s hands scrabbled at Ford’s shoulders as he spilled into his mouth. Ford graciously sucked down every drop as Bill’s hips suttered, eventually stilling beneath him.

Ford pulled off him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a proud smile. Bill reached for the front of his sweater, pulling Ford in for a bruising kiss that tasted like cum and chocolate cake.

***

“What happened to the cake I got for Bill?” Stan questioned, staring at the counter where the box had been sitting that morning.

Bill and Ford shared a look and Ford awkwardly fiddled with his sweater sleeve, unable to meet Stan’s eyes.

“Y'know what, I don't want to know,” Stan put a hand up to silence Bill as he opened his mouth to speak. The look of smugness on his face told him everything he needed to know.

“You two are in charge of the grocery bill from now on.”