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If Eddie had to describe what dating Buck is like in one word, it would be indulgent.
Buck lets Eddie indulge in everything— whether it be love, food, sex— if Eddie were to ask, Buck would gladly give it to him while asking if he’d like even more. It was jarring to Eddie at first, being loved so selflessly and openly, and he struggled a bit to allow himself the smaller joys of being with the love of his life, but it did get easier.
So it shouldn’t come as a surprise to him that he’s gained some weight after a few months of being together, but he freaks out a little when he first starts to notice the long, thin streaks slowly starting to stretch across his hips and over onto his actual ass.
When he tries to bring it up to Buck, he’s met with an eager hand palming and kneading his newfound softness instead of disgust.
They don’t end up talking about much of anything that night. They’re too busy tangled up in one another, curious hands exploring both the hard and soft edges of each other’s bodies. Eddie’s hands on Buck’s tummy, Buck’s hands on Eddie’s thighs, it’s a free for all for the two of them.
Buck has always been the bigger one of the two. He’s never been one to shy away from food either, always scarfing down his meals like they might be his last, and he loves cooking, so there’s always plenty to go around. Triple layer lasagna for dinner on Monday, Nutella stuffed pancakes with a side of fresh fruit for breakfast on Tuesday, Tia Pepa’s signature chilaquiles for lunch on Wednesday, so on and so forth; all of it made with love.
How could Eddie even think of saying no to any of it?
Especially not when Buck is looking at him like that, watching Eddie devour whatever he puts in front of him like a hawk does its prey, something dark and sinful in his gaze. If Eddie could think about anything other than the way his gut is pressing uncomfortably against the top of his jeans, he might even have noticed that there’s a mischievous little glint in those beautiful blue eyes of his.
It dawns on Eddie a few weeks later, when he has officially outgrown his favorite pair of jeans (ones that he’s had for literal YEARS, mind you), that Buck is doing this on purpose. He likes it, Eddie realizes.
And when Buck walks in to find Eddie struggling to button said jeans, belly softer and jigglier than he remembers it being, straining the denim on both sides of the zipper as he pulls, he finds out just how much Buck likes him like this.
Buck’s hands are all over him, rubbing gently in soothing circles, his lips kissing tenderly at the red marks that were left from when Eddie was wearing an older pair of sweatpants earlier that day, and it feels so good that Eddie lets him. He leans back, sighing a little in relief as Buck peels the tight jeans off of his thick thighs and tosses them to the side, already knowing that they’re going to end up in bed.
And they do. It’s some of the best sex of Eddie’s life.
He starts to seriously reconsider his relationship with food after that.
Sure, he likes eating, but between having to prioritize feeding his younger sisters while his parents worked, fighting to make it back to his family while in the middle of an active warzone, and then the stress of navigating his role as a newly single father for most of his young adult life after, food has never been high on the priority list. It’s just something he needs in order to keep on going.
Hunger, in all of its forms, is a basic human instinct to Eddie. Nothing more. He’s never really allowed himself to think about it in any other way beyond that; survival.
Somehow, Buck must have realized that about him too.
He thinks about it on his drive home from therapy. According to Frank, Eddie has some control issues that he needs to work on. His homework for this week is to let himself lose control, whether it be something big or small, to allow himself to relax and not worry about anything other than whatever he decides to be doing at that moment.
He needs to indulge.
He sets his keys down as he walks into the house, toes his shoes off, and sets his stuff down on the kitchen table. It’s Friday, which means that Buck won’t be here until late and Christopher is spending the night at his cousin’s after school, so Eddie is basically on his own for the rest of the day.
He starts heading towards his bedroom to grab some clothes before turning back towards the bathroom. It’s routine, getting home and washing away the heaviness of therapy with Frank before allowing himself to do anything else, so it’s exactly what Eddie does. He doesn’t think, just allows his body to go through the motions of cleaning himself, and soon enough he’s turning the water off and hopping out.
He changes quickly, without thinking.
The bathroom is quiet as Eddie stands in front of the mirror, still a little damp. The fog from the steam is beginning to dissipate, so he wipes the condensation away, revealing his reflection. He stares at himself for a moment, a little nervous and unsure of what to expect, but it’s… still him.
Sure, his jaw is a little softer now, his once-sharp features now a little fuller, and his shirt fits differently, doing practically nothing to hide his paunch, but he finds the changes to be subtler than he thought. He shakes his empty belly, feels how flabby it is now under his fingertips, but he doesn’t move. He just watches the way his body jiggles.
It’s unmistakable though. He’s gained some weight, and the evidence is continuing to show itself on his body.
He used to be so careful, so regimented about his appearance, the gym routine, the meals, keeping everything tight and controlled, but that was before the relationship. Before being with Buck.
He should feel ashamed with how much he’s let himself go, how far he’s allowed himself to stray from what he should look like, but oddly enough, he doesn’t find himself feeling like that at all. Instead, looking at himself reminds Eddie of late-night takeout after their shifts and lazy Sunday mornings tangled up in the sheets.
His body is proof that he can be loved without conditions or expectations, and there’s comfort in knowing that.
Before he can even think about it, Eddie heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge. He already knows there is an abundance of food waiting for him, leftovers and desserts and anything else Buck decided to get, all organized neatly in labeled tupperware containers. He stares at the plethora of options, excitement and nerves swirling around in his chest, and then his stomach lets out an irritated rumble.
He’s hungry. He wants to eat whatever Buck has made for him. He wants it all.
There’s no point in serving himself on a plate, knowing that he’s going to inevitably come back for seconds, and then thirds, and maybe even fourths, so he simply heats up the whole container of five layer macaroni and cheese in the microwave to save himself the trouble. He also pulls out the 2 litre of soda that’s been sitting at the back of the fridge for a while and remembers that Buck had bought two pints of his favorite ice cream a few days ago, so he brings that with him too as he settles himself in the living room.
He throws something on the T.V, a random reality show that he’s probably not going to get invested in, and starts chowing down. Mindlessly, he shoves forkfuls of food into his mouth and washes it down with soda. He doesn’t think, doesn’t worry, simply allows himself to focus on whatever silly challenge is happening on screen and enjoys the feeling of thick, velvety, rich cheese sliding down his throat.
By the time the first episode ends, Eddie has finished the entire platter and drank about a quarter of the 2 litre. He can already feel the weight of the food pressing against his ribcage, his stomach stretching with all the carbonation and fizz, but he still wants more.
He looks at the pints of ice cream sitting on the coffee table in front of him, the Ben and Jerry’s cow almost daring him to keep going, so he does.
The ice cream glides smoothly across his spoon and there’s a cold chill that bites into his mouth as he eats, a sharp contrast to the warmth that still lingers from the mac n’ cheese that he demolished earlier, but he doesn’t hesitate. He shovels the ice cream in, sucking down the cold sweetness in such a hurry that it dribbles out of the corner of his mouth, feeling it melt on his tongue as it slides down his throat.
The coldness spreads like wildfire throughout his chest before settling into his belly, mingling with the warmth, and the combination is almost overwhelming. The smooth, sweet texture of the ice cream makes his stomach gurgle while the mac n’ cheese’s heaviness sits comfortably like a cozy weight in his lower belly.
He takes another bite, more urgently this time, determined to finish both pints.
The first is gone in a blur, and with a satisfied grunt, Eddie eagerly cracks open the next one. He can feel the ice cream swirling through his chest, sending little shivers all the down to his belly where it settles into a frosty lump sitting on top of everything else. As he licks his spoon clean, his belly rumbles, so he leans back before rubbing in slow circles over his gut and letting out a small burp.
The air feels heavy in his stomach, but he refuses to unbutton his jeans. Instead, he slides his fingers under the waistband, pressing it down beneath the edge of his belly, and feels the warm skin of his growing gut protruding slightly over his jeans.
It feels good, letting himself indulge like this, and he thinks of the other leftovers just waiting to be finished in the fridge. He goes back for seconds and thirds, grabbing container after container without care, only greed and gluttony on his mind.
The remnants of Buck’s leftovers are scattered in front of him, enough to feed a small army, and Eddie feels like he’s somehow stepped into culinary paradise. The mashed potatoes from last night’s dinner are still just as creamy and the ribs just as tender, still practically falling off the bone now that they’ve been reheated. He hesitates for a moment, feeling a tightness in his chest— a voice that sounds eerily similar to his father’s telling him to slow down, to watch his intake, but it’s easily ignored.
He picks up the container, piling up his fork with mashed potatoes, and shovels forkful after forkful into his mouth, chewing mechanically. It’s almost like his brain has completely given up on forming any rational thoughts, and with each mouthful he feels himself giving in a little more to the pull. Buck made this, so Eddie won’t stop eating until it’s all gone.
He doesn’t even want to. The thought of stopping, of putting the plate down, seems absurd.
The mashed potatoes come and go with hardly any effort. Eddie can feel the tightness growing, but he ignores it in favor of shoveling more into his mouth. The heat from the leftovers warms him, the kind of warmth that spreads out evenly from his stomach, and he feels like he could just melt into the couch forever. His shirt is riding up, the fabric stretching across his bloated stomach and clinging to his body.
It’s a tight, uncomfortable reminder of just how much he’s already eaten.
Eddie moves sluggishly, each bite taking more effort than the last, but still, he reaches for another forkful. He hiccups as his body fights the growing pressure inside of him, his breathing becoming shallow, labored, but he can’t stop. This is it, the indulgence, the feeling of complete and utter surrender.
His stomach, now swollen and protesting, begins to feel like it might actually burst. He doesn’t care. He’s not thinking about the consequences, he’s not thinking about anything but the slow, warm, comforting way Buck’s leftovers are filling him up. The pleasure of stuffing himself, losing control— giving in entirely to his natural gluttony.
He reaches for the last container. His movements are heavy and his chest is tight with every breath. His jeans, having already been a bit uncomfortable after the two pints of Ben and Jerry’s, are now digging into his sides. His shirt has completely abandoned covering the swell of his belly, huge and distended, the fabric clinging so tightly that it barely hangs over his belly button. He can practically feel the skin stretching, can feel his body betraying him as he leans forward for another bite.
His breath is shallow, strained, and still, he eats. The mac n’ cheese is gone, the two pints of ice cream never even standing a chance, and the last of the mashed potatoes and ribs are disappearing into him like they’ll never stop. Each bite is mindless, automatic, and he doesn’t even realize how full he is anymore. He can barely remember what’s happening, his mind hazy, blurry and food drunk.
When the last bite disappears into his mouth, he leans back onto the couch and groans as the weight of his stomach settles heavily in his lap. He rubs with both hands, the feeling a little foreign— too full, too tight. He can barely move right now, but a part of him doesn’t care.
“Oh God…” He wheezes, his voice high-pitched as he pats his belly gently. He can feel his heart rate picking up in his chest, a combination of fullness and the effort it takes to keep his eyes open, as a burp begins to bubble up from inside of him. It surprises him as it escapes, loud and guttural.
He vaguely recognizes the sound of the front door unlocking, doesn’t even attempt to move when he hears footsteps fade away into the kitchen and the rustling of what he assumes are grocery bags, and only half-registers Buck walking into the room and staring at him. There’s a mix of concern, fondness, and just barely concealed lust in those piercing blue eyes.
“How are you doing, baby?” Buck asks, his tone more curious than worried.
Eddie doesn’t answer right away, his eyes closed as he lets the full weight of his overeating finally sink in. The room seems to tilt, the buzz of discomfort making it hard to focus, but finally, he opens his eyes and meets Buck’s gaze.
“I think… I think I’m gonna die,” he gasps, voice straining as he massages his bloated belly in slow circles. “I can’t move. I can’t even breathe— fuck, I’m so full.”
Buck, ever the asshole, chuckles softly. He leans on the doorway, arms crossed, watching Eddie’s misery with a wicked grin.
“Maybe you should’ve stopped at two containers of leftovers,” he says teasingly.
Before Eddie can even come up with a rebuttal, a burp comes out, loud and forceful. He winces, and then another follows, ending with an uncontrollable hiccup that bubbles up from his chest. He slouches further into the couch, his body surrendering completely to the discomfort, and another burp rattles through him.
Seeing Eddie’s face all pinched up has Buck moving towards him. He presses soft, soothing kisses along Eddie’s forehead, down his cheek, and onto his jaw. His hands find Eddie’s belly, taut and warm under his touch, applying just enough pressure to soothe.
More burps begin to escape Eddie as Buck’s hands work their magic, and Eddie moans softly, half in embarrassment and half in relief.
“There we go, big guy. Let it out,” Buck murmurs into his ear, continuously pressing soft kisses to wherever he can reach.
Eddie glares at Buck, but it lacks any real heat. “If you’re going to have your hands all over me, at least unbutton my pants first. They’re so fucking tight, it feels like my circulation’s getting cut off.”
Buck laughs, but does it anyway. It takes him a bit of finagling, Eddie’s stomach fat having to be lifted just so Buck can actually see the damn button, but once it’s undone the zipper flies down by itself. Eddie’s heft surges forward with its newfound freedom and he moans as it jiggles in the aftermath.
“God,” he sighs, “I didn’t realize I was this big. Jesus Christ…”
“Any room for more?” Buck asks, eyeing the barely drunk 2 litre of soda sitting on the coffee table.
Eddie shakes his head. “I’d probably throw up. I’m barely digesting everything I’ve already eaten as is.”
Buck nods. After a few more minutes of belly rubs and sweet kisses, he seems to decide it’s time for Eddie to get off the couch. “Alright, let’s get you to bed then. You’ll be more comfortable there.”
Eddie whines a little in protest, but he doesn’t argue as Buck gingerly helps him to his feet. As soon as he stands though, his hands fly to his belly. He cradles it almost like a pregnant woman would, loudly letting out an involuntary moan as the movement jostles his stomach. The sound of the sloshing is almost comically loud in the otherwise quiet house.
“Buck,” Eddie pants, taking a slow, wobbly step forward. “I swear to God…”
“You’re doing amazing,” Buck says, biting back a laugh as Eddie shuffles forward at essentially a snail’s pace. Each step is accompanied by a mix of groans and soft burps, with Eddie glaring at Buck between them.
“This…” Eddie stops as another burp comes up, “is all your fault, by the way.”
“And yet you love me for it,” Buck grins, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s waist to steady him.
By the time they reach the bedroom, Eddie is practically collapsing into Buck’s arms. His belly sloshes with every tiny movement as Buck eases him into bed, fluffing pillows and arranging the blankets around him with care. Spread out on their bed, round and heavy, Eddie watches Buck’s fingers twitch in anticipation.
He can only imagine how wrecked he already looks right now, with flushed cheeks and parted lips, his chest rising and falling with slow, labored breaths. It’s all because of Buck. Eddie did this for him, let himself grow big and pliant, knowing that he would be taken care of in the end, filling and feeding and spoiling himself until he ended up exactly like this— completely at Buck’s mercy.
Buck swallows. He wants to touch, grope and knead at the softness of Eddie’s thighs, but he won’t. Not without permission.
“What’re you waiting for?” Eddie asks, voice low and sultry. “I’m all yours.”
Buck’s hands immediately find Eddie’s waist, his fingers sinking into the new soft, doughiness there. He’s careful as he moves, grinding down slowly against Eddie’s thigh, his own breath hitching when Eddie lets out a whimper and shifts against him.
“Buck,” Eddie moans, thick and needy.
Buck groans in response, dipping down to mouth at Eddie’s jaw as he trails wet, open mouthed kisses down his throat. His hands roam freely, squeezing at the love handles that weren’t there before, stroking down Eddie’s hips and pressing his thumbs into plush skin. Eddie gasps, writhing, and he feels the rumble of a choked-off burp against Buck’s lips. He huffs out a laugh, rolling his hips just right so that Eddie moans for him again, desperate and sweet.
“Full, baby?” He whispers, dragging his lips up to Eddie’s ear.
Eddie nods, clutching at Buck’s arms and pulling him closer. “So full, but I need you.”
Buck groans again, this time deeper, much more raw, and Eddie knows that he’s done for. Buck takes his time opening Eddie up, exploring every inch of skin with reverence as he sticks a finger, then two, and Eddie can only respond to Buck’s touches with little sounds that he knows only serve to drive Buck even further into his lust-induced haze.
Eddie’s damn near shaking with anticipation by the time Buck shifts to line himself up. He presses in slowly, moaning at the way Eddie clenches around him, how he trembles as Buck sinks in deeper until finally bottoming out.
He moves carefully at first, keeping his weight off of Eddie’s belly, hands continuously moving as they stroke over every new curve, but Eddie is so warm, so tight, so impossibly good that Buck loses himself in it. He rolls his hips in deep, steady thrusts that have Eddie gasping and arching beneath him.
Eddie’s breath stutters, his hands grasping at Buck’s shoulders, as his body tenses and shivers with every movement. His mouth falls open again and Buck watches, entranced, as another quiet burp slips out. It’s followed by a soft, wrecked little moan that has Eddie seeing stars with how tight Buck’s fingers are gripping around him.
“God, Eddie,” Buck groans, voice rough with need. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s jaw, then the mole that sits just underneath his eye, then the damp strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead. “You’re incredible. Fuck, you’re too good to me.”
Eddie can’t even respond, the sensation of everything inside of him almost too much, but still not enough somehow. He whines as his legs tighten around Buck’s waist, urging him on, and Buck, always eager to please, is more than happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, pounding into Eddie and losing himself in the heat, the weight, the perfection that is Eddie beneath him.
And when Eddie finally shatters, gasping Buck’s name and knowing that Buck will soon follow after (his hands still gripping, still worshipping, holding Eddie like he never wants to let go), he will understand what Frank has been trying to get through to him for weeks now.
He is allowed to be hungry, and he is loved for it.