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The table was practically groaning underneath the weight of all the dishes placed upon it. Joints of roasted meat glistened in the candlelight, the meat itself so tender that it was almost falling off the bone. Dishes of potatoes were crammed in any available space, and Eren had never seen so many different varieties in one place; there were mashed potatoes, boiled potatoes soaked in butter, roasted potatoes and thinly sliced potatoes that had been fried in oil. He ignored the small platters of vegetables, as did most of the other people sat at the table, but instead focused on the plates of sausages wrapped tightly in rashers of bacon and the mounds of soft, floury rolls that were so unlike the hard, grainy bread they ate back at the barracks.
Not for the first time, Eren was grateful that Armin had been the one asked to spend some time behind Wall Sina with him. It meant that Armin could handle the boring political talk while Eren attempted to eat as much as he possibly could. He knew that it was extremely unlikely that he would ever get to eat such decadent food in the future, so he was determined to make the most of it.
Somehow, the food tasted even better than it looked. Eren piled a little of everything onto his plate, even the dishes he had never tried before. While he had never tasted horseradish sauce before, the tart taste went amazingly well with the rich and savoury slices of beef. The pork made Eren's mouth water, and even the chicken was bursting with flavour, completely unlike the boiled, tasteless chicken that they were served back at the barracks. But it was the beef that Eren kept helping himself to, and fortunately, the beef joint seemed endless.
The mashed potatoes melted on Eren's tongue, so buttery and creamy that they almost classified as a dessert. The roast potatoes followed, unbelievably fluffy on the inside, while delightfully crisp on the outside. Eren found himself eating one after the other, only pausing to help himself to more from the closest serving bowl. When it became empty it was promptly replaced by one of the waiting staff flitting around the table, and Eren didn't so much as hesitate before helping himself once again, tipping several roast potatoes onto his gravy-soaked plate.
The rich taste of the food only came second to the warm, heavy feeling settling in Eren's belly. He could feel it bloating outwards underneath his shirt, seemingly becoming rounder with each mouthful of food. A shiver soaked Eren's spine as the waistband of his pants began to bite into his sides. A quick glance downwards revealed that his stomach had swollen outwards, curving from just under his breastbone to somewhere between his hips.
Eren risked a quick glance either side of him. The middle-aged gentleman on his right was caught up in a conversation with yet another middle-aged gentleman. Armin, who was sat to his left, was currently being talked at by an incredibly pompous looking older man. For once, the attention wasn't on Eren, and he took the opportunity to slowly place his hand against his stomach.
He felt so full. Eren could feel the warmth of his skin through the material of his shirt. His stomach was still soft underneath his probing fingertips, but definitely more prominent than it had been before dinner. Spearing a roast potato onto the tines of his fork, Eren kept his hand spread across his steadily rising belly. He fancied he could feel it growing a little underneath his palm with each roast potato he ate, and that spurred him into eating as many as he possibly could.
“Hungry?” Armin asked after a while, by that point Eren was all too aware of the fact he had eaten more than his fair share of roast potatoes.
“Little bit,” Eren ran his tongue over his lower lip, catching the taste of salt and grease, “I still can't get over how much they eat here.”
Armin tipped his head to one side, strands of blond hair falling across his forehead. “Same here. I don't think I can manage much more of mine. Do you want it?”
Eren's gaze flickered down to Armin's plate. It was still mostly full from the few pieces Armin had picked out for himself, like Eren he had tried a little of everything. Without further prompting, Armin reached across to swap his and Eren's plates.
“Thanks,” Eren couldn't even try and hide how happy he was on receiving an entire plateful of food, some of which had disappeared from the table by that point in the meal, “You're still not used to all this food, huh?”
Armin shook his head before taking a sip of water. “Not at all. I'm still impressed that you took to it so quickly.”
By this point, Eren was starting to feel full. His stomach let out little distressed grumbles underneath his palm as he continued to eat, savouring the cuts of meat and sausages that were still warm enough to enjoy. Eren listened with half an ear as Armin was drawn back into conversation with the older man sat next to him, if Eren recalled he was some sort of higher up in the military. Eren kept eating as he listened, but was still caught off guard when the older man's gaze swept past Armin to Eren, his moustache twitching upwards into what could only be a knowing smile.
“You've got quite the appetite on you,” the older man noted, amusement lacing his words, “Don't they feed you down in the barracks?”
Eren swallowed his current mouthful of food. “Sure they do. Just not like this.”
Armin looked distraught at Eren's choice of words, but the older man just burst into laughter. Eren tried and failed, to mask his own guilty grin.
“Eat as much as you want,” the older man gestured with his wine glass to Eren's rapidly emptying plate, “I insist! You should eat up too, blondie.”
A flush spread across Armin's cheeks at the nickname, and he looked relieved when the older man drained the rest of his wine and turned to start a conversation with someone else. Eren swept his last sausage through the remnants of mashed potato and gravy and ate the entire thing in two bites. His stomach was taut under his hand, there was barely any give as he prodded at it with a cautious finger. While the soft material of Eren's shirt was nice and loose against his swollen belly, the stiff material of his pants was much less forgiving.
“He said to eat up,” Eren elbowed Armin in the side, “C'mon. Didn't Levi say that we had to do everything they said? Even if it's 'unimportant bullshit that only a load of stuffed shirt bastards are gonna care about'?”
“I doubt that he meant we should eat until we can barely move,” Armin murmured, his eyes dipping down ever so briefly to Eren's bulging midsection, “Maybe you should slow down a little.”
Eren scoffed as he leant forward to reach for another helping of mashed potato. “What's the worst that can happen?”
Though Eren had to admit, his pants were cutting into his bloated stomach far more tightly now. A sharp jolt of pain shot through his midsection as he reached for more food. He swore that he could feel the stiff material of his pants creak in protest, pressure building somewhere around his belly button. Gritting his teeth, Eren pushed through the discomfort, turning his head slightly to give Armin what he hoped was a reassuring smile, with just a hint of smugness creeping into it.
It all happened so quickly. It felt as if someone has flicked Eren hard in the stomach, the building pressure seeping away at an alarming speed. He looked down at himself just in time to see his overstuffed stomach swell outwards through his open fly. A cold realisation trickled down Eren's spine as he stared at the curve of tanned flesh, some part of his mind unwilling or unable to recognise it as belonging to him. It was round and undeniably fat and was heavy enough to push down his pants zipper without so much as an ounce of resistance.
“Eren!” Armin's horrified whisper only confirmed that Eren's wardrobe malfunction hadn't gone unnoticed, “What did you do?”
“Button popped open,” Eren ground out between his gritted teeth, fumbling blindly at his waistband, only feeling the loose thread that was left behind, “Shit. The button's gone.”
Eren was acutely aware he should have been more worried, especially when he caught Armin's distressed expression out of the corner of his eye. But there was something exhilarating about the fact he had eaten enough to pop a button. Swiftly tugging his shirt down to cover his exposed stomach, Eren's heart began to race. Knowing that he was concealing an overly stuffed and bared belly from view was doing something to him that he couldn't even begin to explain. The idea of having to hide his own overconsumption and decadence was strangely arousing, which in turn only added to the ever-growing issues with his pants.
“We should go,” Armin hissed out of the corner of his mouth as servants started to clear the table, effortlessly sweeping the almost empty platters and dishes onto a series of wheeled trolleys, “Come on.”
There was something a little exhilarating about Armin taking charge. Eren was vaguely aware of excuses being made for the both of them, and the next moment they were walking back to the guest room that had been assigned to them during their stay behind the innermost wall. Each step sent a renewed pulse of arousal throughout Eren, both his stomach and groin throbbing in response. Somehow, the fact that he was helplessly turned on in a situation where it should have been the last thing on his mind only served to deepen his arousal.
“Are you okay?” Armin's soft voice filtered into Eren's thoughts, “You look a little flustered.”
Guilt clawed briefly at Eren's insides on seeing Armin's concerned gaze, and he quickly shook his head. “I'm fine! Really. Just,” he gave the side of his stomach a meaningful pat, “- amazed, I guess. When the hell did I get so fat?”
“You're not fat,” Armin furrowed his brow, his lips pursed into that thoughtful frown Eren was so very fond of, “You've just... you're just... carrying a little extra weight right now.”
“Don't downplay it,” Eren ran the tip of his tongue over his suddenly dry lips, “Give it to me straight. Tell me how fat I am.”
“What?” Armin stopped walking, his eyes creasing in confusion, “Eren, really, you're not fat. Maybe a little chubby but-”
Eren's breath caught in his throat, seconds later he had Armin pushed up against the nearest wall, his overstuffed stomach filling the space between them. His hands slid down Armin's thighs, reaching back to cup his backside. Eren's fingers sank into the soft cheeks, drawing a gasp from Armin that was quickly smothered by Eren's lips. Armin's hand found Eren's waist, his fingers were only just able to hook into the waistband of his increasingly tight pants. Eren groaned into the kiss at that little realisation, at the sensation of Armin's slender fingers being trapped by his own flesh. A twinge of discomfort shot across his belly as Eren pressed himself further against Armin, desperate to feel as much of that body against his own.
“Eren,” Armin murmured as they both broke back for air, “We need to... room.”
Eren wasn't sure how they made it back to the room, but they stumbled through the door, Armin being the only one of a sound enough mind to lock it after behind them. Ridding himself of his shirt, Eren coaxed Armin down onto whichever of their beds was the closest, taking a moment to drink in the beautiful sight of the blond splayed out underneath him. Eren straddled Armin's thighs, lowering himself until his distended belly brushed against Armin's flat midsection.
“You got so big,” Armin noted breathlessly, spreading his small hands out either side of Eren's rounded stomach, “You're, um... enjoying it, aren't you?”
Was Armin asking if Eren enjoyed being so full that his stomach was protruding out in front of him? Or was he enquiring about whether Eren liked having his overstuffed belly touched like that? Perhaps he was even referring to the fact Eren had eaten enough for his button to pop open? Eren couldn't tell what Armin was referring to, and knowing Armin he could be asking about all three at the same time. All that Eren knew was that he enjoyed them all immensely, and he confirmed it with a short nod.
Armin's warm fingers began to massage Eren's stomach. He worked methodically, rubbing little circles in the areas that felt the tightest, and more sweeping circles across the parts that weren't quite as tense. Eren squirmed pleasantly underneath every single touch, his belly gurgling gently as Armin deftly erased some of his discomfort. His skin was so sensitive when it was stretched so tightly, even the softest touch sent shivers down Eren's spine. A small groan slipped from the corner of his mouth, the tension he hadn't realised he'd been carrying seeping away from him.
“I don't know how I didn't notice this,” Armin murmured against Eren's lips, his fingers tracing the small bulge of fat protruding over the side of his waistband, “It's very prominent.”
“What about me? I'm the one who's been carrying around all this extra weight,” Eren grunted a little as he switched their positions, rolling into his back and pulling Armin down on top of him, “You've got no idea what all of this is doin' to me.”
A soft whimper left Armin as Eren's hands cupped his backside, a spark of arousal shooting through him as Armin's own hardness brushed against the curve of his stomach. “I th-think I have some idea.
Young and inexperienced, they fumbled their way together, hands skimming curves and soft flesh that had often been hidden underneath Eren's uniform. Eren's breath caught as his gut seemed to invade every moment between them, heavy and round and unrelenting. Armin was small and warm in comparison, his pale face flushed as they fell into a rhythm together. So pent up from the button popping that had started it all, it didn't take long for Eren to reach his release, followed quickly by a flustered Armin who trembled a little underneath him.
For a moment they led together on the bed, side by side. After fastidiously cleaning them both up, Armin settled at Eren's side, his cheek pressed against his chest, one of his arms draped across his stomach. Eren slipped his arm around Armin, his fingers carding into the slightly damp strands of hair. The contented little noise that came from the blond made Eren smile, and for a moment he lowered his head to nudge it against Armin's own.
Moments of intimacy and peace like this had been rare down in the barracks, and Armin must have been reading Eren's thoughts. “I'm going to miss this,” Armin confessed quietly, “We're due to return at the end of the month. How did it pass so quickly?”
“The end of the month?” Eren repeated in surprise, “Just four weeks? Shit, really? There's no way,” he added warily looking down to the prominent rise of his belly, even when it was considerably less bloated, “- that I'm gonna get rid of this in that time, right?”
“I mean,” Armin shifted slightly, trailing his fingers across the curve of Eren's midsection, “If you started watching what you eat, maybe got up a little earlier in the morning to exercise, you could probably lose a little weight before we went back.”
“Or?” Eren tilted his head to meet Armin's thoughtful gaze.
“Or,” Armin stretched cat-like before settling back down against Eren, encircling his belly button with the tip of his finger, “You make the most of an opportunity we're never going to get again in our entire lives. Eat everything you want, sleep in until we're needed. You'll end up dropping the weight once we're training again.”
Eren stifled a groan into Armin's hair. “Levi is going to have a fit. Shit, and Jean! That bastard is going to be so obnoxious, you just know he is.”
“Captain Levi has probably seen it happen before,” Armin reminded him, “He might not be happy about it, but in some strange way, I think he'll understand.”
“And Jean?” Eren grimaced to himself, “I can see him now, just smirking in that horsey way of his, going all 'Oh wow, look at Jeager, I'm surprised they didn't use you to block the hole in Shiganshina'.”
Armin rolled his eyes but couldn't quite hide his amused smile. “He's going to antagonise you no matter what. That's a given. Mikasa's going to be pleased that you look so healthy now. Connie and Sasha are going to be beside themselves with jealousy that you've clearly had the chance to eat so much good food.”
“You're encouraging this?” Eren's hand swept over Armin's bare thigh, fingers trailing across the pale skin.
“No,” Eren could feel Armin's warm blush against his skin, “I've just not seen you this happy for a long time. That's something I always want to see more of.”
It was remarkable how quickly Armin could still make Eren's insides turn into goo with just a few words. “Really?”
“Really,” Armin confirmed, nuzzling his head up against the curve of Eren's neck, strands of hair tickling against his skin, “You know better than anyone how short life can be. Is it really so wrong to make the most of it?”
As Eren drifted off into a blissfully peaceful post-sex doze, he couldn't help but wonder just how big he could get in just four weeks. A slow smile spread across his face, it was inevitable that he would have to go up a uniform size, but the thought of getting large enough to pop open the button of those pants sent a brief shiver of excitement through him.