Chapter Text
When Stiles had first come to the kingdom, his king was a slender shadow of a man, haunted by his past, his kingdom suffering. Slowly after many years of struggling and slow recovery, and with much help from Stiles, the kingdom and its king were prospering again. The Harvest was an annual festival, held for centuries, where the villagers thanked the king for their prosperity and good fortune by presenting him with a feast. The first two years of the Harvest had meager feasts, but as the bounty of the fields and streams increased, as did the Harvest. The celebration did not end until the king had finished all his gifts. A well-fed king meant his kingdom and people were thriving.
This was to be the 10th Harvest Stiles had attended, and Derek had grown exponentially along with his kingdom. Derek sat on his throne, Stiles by his side, politely acknowledging each family as they dropped off their bounty. Stiles watched the table next to him fill up; nearly overflowing by the time the last family had set their basket down.
“Your people have outdone themselves, my King.” He picked up a plate of pheasant, tearing off a piece of succulent meat and placing it in Derek’s mouth. “Perhaps you should not have overextended yourself so much at lunch.”
“Strange. Seems I recall someone insisting I finish the entire plate of treacle tarts.”
“His highness seemed hungry,” Stiles grinned.
“When am I not?” Derek asked, accepting another bite.
Derek still marveled at how easy this was. Before Stiles had arrived, he had struggled to finish everything at the feast, meager those it was, often making himself sick to avoid the disappointment of the villager. With Stiles, it was effortless. Stiles knew how to gently push Derek to his limits. He would constantly give Derek a variety of food, making sure he never tired of one thing, rotating between savory and sweet. It was tradition, of course, to have the king’s partner feed them at such feasts, for Stiles to show off how well he provided for Derek. But it was still an incredibly intimate thing between them, Stiles feeding Derek bite after bite, keeping up light, teasing conversation the entire time.
Stiles buttered a slab of bread and held it up for Derek to take. While he was eating, Stiles rested his hand on Derek’s generous love handles, which were brushing up against the side of his chair. “I do hope your new throne will be ready soon.”
“This one is not yet a year old.”
“Still seems rather smug.”
“Another few inches would be welcome.” Derek conceded.
“I was thinking closer to twelve inches.” To prove his point, Stiles picked up a small box of truffles. Derek was leaning back enough on his throne, giving his belly plenty of room in his lap, and also allowing Stiles to easily rest the box on the crest of his considerable belly. He could have easily rested on the man’s massive rear, but instead just placed a hand on the small of Derek’s back, resting on his ass.There was no space between Derek’s thighs and the side of the chair anymore and his sizable ass was squishing against the back of the chair.
“Must be all late night desserts my husband has been bringing me.”
“I can’t have the kingdom thinking I am not keeping their king well fed.”
“Well,” Derek said smiling, popping the last truffle into his mouth, “better help me finish all this food then.”