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Trevor had never been big on vacations. His boyfriend, Adam, wasn’t either, but he was the sort that after a few years of spending most of their time hanging out in either their small apartment or the usual date places got a bit antsy about proper couple activities, and so after a few back-and-forths they’d packed up for a few days somewhere reasonably far from home.
They probably should’ve read the warnings about the local fauna a bit more carefully, but in fairness it had mainly been on Trevor for wanting to check out that unmarked cave. Things had gotten a bit out of hand in there, and now here he was, back on his couch at home but with his stomach full of eggs. Currently it was pushing against the fabric of his largest sweatshirt—a little more than usual thanks to the enormous dinner he’d eaten.
He’d been hungry a lot lately. Like right now, in fact. It was hard to believe considering it hadn’t even been long enough for the evidence of his latest overindulgence to disappear, but as Trevor’s hands absentmindedly rubbed at his swollen middle he found it really didn’t feel that uncomfortable. A bit tight, maybe, but nothing compared to how he’d felt before he got more acclimated to the sensation of having something inside him pushing up against his organs all day.
His hands moved more purposefully now as he gave his stomach an experimental probe. The soft flesh beneath his fingertips gave way easily. Hardly packed, really, and barely any discomfort either. It wouldn’t be overextending himself to have a little more. If he wanted to. Dinner must’ve been an hour ago by now anyway. Trevor’s mind drifted to the French pastries sitting on top of the fridge. He knew they were there because Adam had announced it when he brought the slightly greasy white box home after work, but Trevor had been too engrossed in eating a bag of Cheetos while waiting for the food to cook to pay him much attention, which seemed like more and more of an egregious oversight the longer he thought about it.
Before Trevor could follow that train of thought, Adam put down his phone and stood up from the couch. He was still dressed in his work clothes, the crisp buttoned pants and collared shirt slightly exotic to Trevor at this point. He suspected he wouldn’t fit into any of his button-ups right now, at least not without doing a bit of damage to them.
“I’m just gonna get changed real quick,” Adam said, ignorant to Trevor’s ogling of his ability to wear non-elastic pants. “You good?” The last part was something that seemed almost reflexive from him these days, on top of all the other little ways he’d started trying to make his boyfriend feel better: picking up some of his chores, giving him the best seat, getting the door for him, buying him entire boxes of pastries for no reason. It was sweet, and Trevor wondered if he even knew he was doing it.
“Yeah, of course,” said Trevor, “although since you’re going through the kitchen, do you think you could bring back some of those things you picked up from the bakery today? Or uh, the patisserie or whatever.” Adam glanced back at him as he said that, and Trevor tried his best to look as casual and non-full as a man containing twenty-to-thirty eggs alongside three bowls of spaghetti could. God, he really was hungry. Even thinking about what he’d already eaten today just had him wanting more of it.
Fortunately, Adam didn’t seem to have noticed, and just smiled and said, “sure, which ones?”
“Oh, there’s different kinds? I didn’t actually get a chance to check them out yet.” Trevor could see Adam mentally composing a list of the pros and cons of every single pastry he’d bought, so he cut him off with a quick, “just bring the whole thing, I’ll pick out what I want.”
“Sure.” Adam leaned over for a quick peck and headed off into the kitchen, which he emerged from mercifully quickly holding the bakery box. Trevor blurted out some kind of thank you and narrowly avoided snatching it from Adam’s grasp as he handed it over. Trevor set the box on the coffee table, dimly aware of Adam leaving the room again, and carefully scooted forward to allow himself to open it without squashing his belly too much. The feeling of it rolling out and over the waistband of his sweats was barely noticed as he lifted the lid and beheld the array of treats waiting for him.
Unlike Adam he had never been an expert on the various breeds of fancy junk food, but that didn’t particularly matter because every single one of the tiny combinations of dough and sugar on display was making him giddy with excitement. There were twelve in total, and Trevor spotted four croissants, what he was pretty sure were two eclairs, and a bunch of smaller things stuffed with chocolate, fruit, and cream. God. Trevor could barely move, it was so satisfying just looking at them. How was he even supposed to choose which ones to eat? It was almost too much.
Almost. Trevor was broken out of his trance by a rumble from his stomach, reminding him why he was sitting there staring at pastries in the first place. He snapped his hand out to grab the nearest one, which so happened to be one of the croissants. Trevor leaned back so he could sit up to eat and felt his stomach shift again as he gave its contents more room to breathe. How could he have believed he was full earlier?
Trevor wasn’t really conscious of bringing the croissant up to his mouth and biting down, only of the sudden euphoria of filling his mouth with flaky, buttery pastry and—oh god this was one of those ones with the chocolate inside it, he could taste it mingling with the tender dough, a dark, rich sweetness, and Trevor eagerly opened his jaws for more—only to find his hands empty. He’d eaten the whole thing in two bites. Trevor groaned a bit around his mouthful of bread and chocolate. It had been so good, but he really wished he’d had more of a chance to savor it, so he reached for another to correct his error.
Trevor swallowed and brought the next croissant to his lips. The first bite was just as much of a satisfying crunch as the last time, but as the taste of butter flooded through him, he noticed, with some slight disappointment, that this one was just a regular croissant. He was able to take it slower this time, and as he chewed he eyed the remaining two croissants. He’d only been planning to have one of them, but the first, deliciously chocolate one had disappeared so fast it felt like he hadn’t even eaten it, and he wanted another taste. They were light anyway.
After dithering between the two Trevor grabbed the one that seemed slightly bigger, hoping that meant it had more stuff in it. Unfortunately, this theory was proven wrong when he took a bite. Damn it. He moved to put down the half-eaten croissant, but then Trevor remembered Adam never ate things someone had already bitten into—apparently it was “gross” and “gave you mouth germs.” Trevor would end up being the one to finish it anyway, so he figured he might as well eat it now while he was still hungry.
It really was good, for a plain croissant, but as Trevor finished the dessert he still found himself thinking of chocolate. The final croissant sat there, taunting him even as he sat back and rested his hands on his stomach to think. He couldn’t imagine Adam buying an uneven number of croissants like that, so this one probably was chocolate as well. The two regular ones hadn’t been part of his plan either—this was the one he had actually been trying to eat. It would be kind of a waste to ignore it.
Trevor grunted as he leaned back over the box to get a better look at his chocolate options. There were the chocolate eclairs, or the chocolate croissant, or the chocolate tart, or the chocolate croissant, or the little round things with chocolate drizzled overtop them, or the chocolate croissant he clearly couldn’t stop thinking about. Trevor decided not to torture himself anymore and picked it up and placed it in his mouth.
The small moan that escaped him at that moment was, in his opinion, entirely warranted. This thing really was just as good as he remembered, and he took slow bites, luxuriating in the sheer flavor of it. Even though he ate slowly this time around the croissant seemed to disappear just as soon, and Trevor opened the eyes he hadn’t realized were closed to confirm that yes, there really wasn’t anything left in his hand.
The next pastry was snatched up almost unthinkingly, one of those small chocolate things eaten in an attempt to prolong the feeling. As Trevor chewed on that the fact that he’d eaten all four of the croissants meant for him and Adam set in. He felt slightly guilty, but there were still eight—no, seven—of the pastries left, more than enough for the both of them.
Speaking of which, Trevor had been wanting to try some different flavors. The little chocolate things really were good, he thought as he stuffed another one in his mouth, but not too different from the chocolate croissants. He was starting to feel a bit of pressure in his stomach too. Probably best to go for something light, which meant one of the creampuffs.
The little dessert was nearly overflowing, cream spilling out of its tiny shell, and Trevor licked a bit off his fingers before he placed the pastry in his mouth. Biting down on it felt like eating a cloud—even the dough was so light and airy that Trevor’s teeth felt hardly any resistance. It was surprisingly sweet too, an almost cloying explosion of sugar. Trevor tossed the next, equally insubstantial bite back and felt vaguely unsatisfied. Maybe he’d appreciate the next one more.
Now that he’d prepared himself for the sweetness Trevor was able to pick out more subtleties in the taste, and he found the slight vanilla of the filling complemented the crumbly white pastry beautifully. His mouth was filled with delicious sweetness, and he swirled the cream around until it melted away leaving him with nothing but a faint taste of sugar coating his teeth. Something light had definitely been what he needed.
Still, he needed something more substantial to follow that up and cleanse his palate. One of those things with the fruit on them would probably do it. As he reached over he felt a pang in his gut—shouldn’t have bent down so quickly, he thought, massaging the cramp out as he leaned back. The fruit thing was strawberry, his favorite, and in his excitement he took a slightly too ambitious bite. Definitely shouldn’t have eaten that quickly either.
He was really starting to feel heavy now, but he ignored it as took another strawberry tart. There were just the eclairs now, which his brain told him was important, somehow, although definitely not as important as putting more food in his mouth. The strawberry was so juicy compared to the buttery pastry, with just a hint of tartness. He panted—when had he started panting?—in between bites, the effort of eating so quickly on so full an abdomen intensifying.
His stomach was beginning to tingle, and without the distraction of something to eat Trevor could feel dull pain emanating from just below his ribs. He made the only sensible decision he could and grabbed an eclair to keep his mind off it.
It was a lot richer than he was expecting. The cream was heavy and it mixed with the chocolate topping and dough to create a thick paste inside his mouth. As he attempted to chew he couldn’t feel anything another than the rich sweetness of it squishing around his mouth, and for a brief moment he worried he wouldn’t be able to swallow it, but with some difficulty he pushed the mixture down his throat. It felt like it couldn’t get much farther than that though, his stomach clogged as it was with food.
God, had he really eaten that much? In answer, the final eclair seemed to stare back at him, the sole survivor of a box that was once twelve strong. His guts churned as he realized just how much he’d eaten. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to put away an entire box of baked goods.
Well, not an entire box.
When Adam returned, wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants, Trevor realized that it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since he’d started. He looked up, mouth full of eclair, as Adam gaped in poorly hidden shock at the sight of him.
“So,” he started, faux-casual, “which ones did you have?”
Trevor was too busy chewing to answer, and Adam came down to sit beside him instead. As he plopped down on the couch Trevor felt everything inside him—eggs, dinner, entire box full of pastries—lurch, and it was all he could do to keep his final mouthful down. He could fell Adam watching him as he swallowed, hard.
“Well,” he said, and holy shit he was out of breath. “I had uh. I had all of them.”
“All of them.” Adam said, looking between his boyfriend and the decidedly empty box on the coffee table.
“Yeah, all of them.” Trevor felt somewhat proud of that fact. Adam just looked at him again, face softening.
“You have something on your face,” he said, and without warning leaned over to wipe the corner of Trevor’s mouth. Neither of them needed any prompting as Adam brought his finger to Trevor’s lips and he sucked on it, greedily lapping up the last, sugary dregs of his binge. He also welcomed it as Adam rubbed his hand along Trevor’s overstuffed belly, lightly at first and then harder as Trevor tried not to moan.
He closed his eyes and leaned back gently, only to open them again with a gasp as Adam’s hand made contact with bare skin. Trevor looked down only to realize that he could not, in fact, look down, as his stomach was doing an excellent job of blocking his view. He felt Adam tug a few times at the hem of his sweatshirt before giving up, and he realized what was going on: it had ridden up while he was eating, and was currently nowhere near large enough to cover all of him.
“Might need to get a few new ones of these, huh,” said Adam with a grin. Trevor smiled back.
“Might need to get some more pastries too.”