portamivia Posted December 21, 2022 Share Posted December 21, 2022 No no no, I’m not ready to give up on Gabriel! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jwood Posted December 21, 2022 Share Posted December 21, 2022 9 hours ago, ploder4 said: Just 420? Why not 500? Lol Might be even nicer to aim for 4.20 and 690 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ploder4 Posted December 21, 2022 Share Posted December 21, 2022 I also agree that we need more physical information on Auggie. More so because we need a comparison again. Gabe has always been much bigger, but if physics are going to remain true-ish than the difference between the two will reach a breaking point. The relationship at this point would be Auggie staying by manipulation rather than love. Gabe wants Auggie to stay. Gabe does love him and vice versa, but he has to manipulate Auggie to keep him because of one thing that Gabe can't provide... yet. This is where I get the feeling of that "ultimate ascension." If Gabe can manipulate Auggie into a relationship, he might be able to manipulate Auggie to do anything. I can't wait to read more. 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted December 26, 2022 Author Share Posted December 26, 2022 Chapter 28 I finished cleaning myself up, grabbed a towel, and stormed out into the kitchen. Gabriel was still dripping dry, a towel hung casually around his waist. Because of how huge his legs and ass were, one leg poked out of the flap created by the towels overlapping. He was blithely making breakfast, still whistling. I got closer to him, passing by the paper with our House Rules posted. To my furthering surprise, I saw that rules 1, 4, and 7 had all been crossed out in thick, black magic marker. “What the fuck was that?” I asked. Gabriel turned around, still smiling. “A taste of what you’ll get if you marry me,” he said, leaning back on the counter, his arms slightly behind him, his biceps flexed in a display of his size. His torso was still slick with shower water and red from the heat. “We just washed each other.” “True,” Gabriel said. “For you, a sexual fantasy; for me, a shower I was going to take anyways." “Where did you even learn to try something like that?” “Google. My exact search was ‘satisfy husband, no sex, gay.’” He actually said the word “comma” each time. “I’ve got a whole bunch of tricks in store for you.” This was absurd. “You couldn’t possibly have enjoyed that.” Gabriel went back to preparing his breakfast. “You did.” He breathed on the fingernails of his right hand and polished them on his chest. “Very much, if I may brag.” He reached to grab a pan from the overhead hook. “I ejaculated semen from my cock,” I said bluntly. Flustered, Gabriel dropped the pan and blanched a pale shade. “There’s the Gabriel I know,” I said. “Fine,” he admitted, bending over to pick up the pan. “Giving you one of those things fucking sqweeked me out. I left the shower so I didn’t vomit on you.” “Then why did you do any of that?” “Until that happened, nothing we did was weird or disgusting to me.” He pointed at me with the pan. “And I didn’t blow my cover that your finale grossed me out while it was happening. I get points for that.” “Points?” I asked. “What the fuck, Gabriel?” “If I’m going to be your husband, I have to find ways of satisfying you.” “I never agreed to marry you.” “Technicality. Only a matter of time,” Gabriel said. Then, he continued. “I could probably do what we just did in the shower once a week. Maybe more if I get over the ick factor of the final scene. The fireworks at the end was the only sexual bit.” “We were both naked.” Gabriel shook his head. “I never had a problem with naked. That was your hang-up.” “You touched my ass.” Gabriel looked at me blankly. “The fleshy part. I was cleaning it.” Then it hit him. “Right. You’re a gay guy. Asses are innately erotic to you.” I took the pan away from him and put it on the counter. “Asses are pretty much innately erotic to all allosexuals.” “But we poop with them,” Gabriel said. “Think of every movie, TV show, or commercial you’ve ever seen that has a hot woman in it. They show her ass.” “Yeah, but… that turns people on?” I raised my eyebrows in incredulity. “There’s being asexual, and there’s being clueless.” “I thought it was withholding the reveal. When a hot woman’s onscreen, cameras like to pan up. I thought it was teasing. Holding off on showing her boobs in close-up.” He was fucking with me, right? “You’re kidding me.” “I used to think it was a way to delay showing her face,” Gabriel admitted. “I’ve come a long way.” “T&A, Gabriel. T&A. Tits and ass.” “I had heard that expression,” Gabriel said, resuming his breakfast preparations, “but a lot of people—men, women, gay, straight—use the word ‘ass’ when they mean ‘sex.’” He paused briefly, then said, “And I’m suddenly realizing why.” He grabbed some bacon out of the fridge and started frying it. I was surprised Hank let him have bacon with the strict diet he was on. “You’re just now, in your mid-20s, discovering the ass is an erogenous zone, and yet you want to be my husband.” Gabriel’s face lit up. “Hey, if asses are erotic, that opens a whole new realm of ways I could satisfy you… without actually having sex with you.” He smacked his own ass, and the sound of meat slapping meat resonated in the kitchen. “I got a whole lot of ass to play with. Some of the suggestions Google had make more sense now.” He looked at me inquiringly. “Do you like being spanked?” “There’s no fucking way I’m answering that.” “Why not? If you’re into spanking, I’m down to try it.” That sentence was so shocking that I momentarily lost the ability to speak. Gabriel continued. “I assume it’s naked spanking. Are you naked, or am I naked?” I was still speechless. Gabriel’s face showed his sudden realization. “Both of us are naked.” He knocked on his head like it was a door. “Duh, Gabriel. Think it through.” He looked me in the eyes and said, “I’d go full naked if you were standing up or hunched over a bed or table or something like that. But I would prefer at least underwear if I’m going to bend you over my lap.” To clarify, he added, “Me and you.” I was still silent. Gabriel looked at me, curious. “Are you worried with all my strength I’d beat you black and blue?” He shook his head firmly. “I’d never hurt you. Never. I’d go extremely gentle at first, and slowly increase the power until we found the sweet spot.” I was still silent. He scrutinized my face, trying to figure out why I had stopped talking. When a new idea struck him, he asked, “Oh, would you want to spank me?” He turned back around and chuckled. “No offense, Auggie, but you could spank me with this frying pan using both arms and a running start, and my mighty ass wouldn’t feel it.” “I don’t like spanking,” I said to end the madness. My decision to move out had broken Gabriel. He had completely lost his fucking mind. He had convinced himself I would actually marry him, a man who had no need for sex or romance—a man who had no desire for sex or romance. I had to find a way to talk some sense into him. “Fair enough,” Gabriel said. “You know, I’m glad we’re having discussions like this before the wedding. Would’ve been embarrassing if I’d tried that out on the wedding night.” That gave me an in. “You know what people do on their wedding night, right Gabriel? I assumed you did, but now…” Gabriel turned on the burner. “I know what people do on their wedding night.” He shrugged. “It’s not required by law.” “You know what people do at the end of the wedding ceremony, right?” “They kiss,” Gabriel said dismissively. “That one does seem to be a mandated part of the ceremony.” He shrugged again. “Come here,” I said, hopping on the counter. “I’m cooking.” “Real quick.” Gabriel turned down the burner and walked over to me. When he was right in front of me, I used the vantage of my elevation to grab his head close to me and plant a giant kiss on him. Gabriel pulled back violently. “Warn a guy before doing that, Auggie!” “You want to marry me, but you don’t want to kiss me?” I taunted. He walked back up to me, put his large hand behind my back, and pressed his lips against mine. My brain lit up like the Fourth of July. Gabriel’s warmth surrounding me, his beard scraping my face, the nerve endings in my lips responding to his softness and tenderness. I’d waited years for this. But, after that first explosion of bliss, as I sat there, something felt off. Gabriel was barely moving. In fact, he was holding his breath. And his lips were firmly shut tight. I could practically hear him count “one-one thousand, two-one thousand, three one-thousand,” in his head. He ended the kiss, and intensely said, “I know you like being kissed. I’m working on it.” “A valiant first effort,” I said honestly. “But I could tell you were uncomfortable.” “Work in progress,” he echoed. “If you want to help me out, grow a beard.” “Help you out?” I was flabbergasted. “I’ve known you for seven years, Gabriel. No matter how many times you kiss me, I know you’ll never want to kiss me. You wouldn’t want to do anything romantic with me.” “Just because I don’t feel romantic doesn’t mean I can’t be romantic. I’ve known you for seven years too. I know what you want from a man. What you deserve from a man. I’d buy you flowers. Cards and teddy bears on Valentine’s Day. Candlelit restaurant on your birthday. Moonlight strolls. Sunrise swims. Small surprises just to show you you’re important to me.” He shook his head. “Fuck, Auggie, I’m likely to be more on top of these things than an alloromantic guy because I’m looking at them from the outside in.” Was he actually being serious? Gabriel’s voice was low and sincere. “I don’t want you to settle. I want you to have the man of your dreams, and I’m going to prove to you that I’m him.” I couldn’t tell if this was absolutely cockamamie or endearingly sweet. He turned the burner back up. “If you’d stop interrupting me, I could finish making you breakfast.” “You’re making me breakfast?” I asked, hopping off the counter and looking at the frying pan full of bacon. “Once I’m done frying the bacon, I’m making you pancakes in the same pan,” he said. “I don’t eat meat,” I reminded him. He showed me the packaging, tapping the Morning Star label. “That’s like Auggie 101,” he teased. “I know you better than that.” “What’s the gag?” I asked. “This isn’t some trick. I got your favorite brand of vegetarian bacon, even though I can guarantee you it tastes nothing like real bacon. And I’m not making the pancakes from scratch, but from a box of Bisquick, the same brand your father used when he made breakfast on Sundays. I even got you that sugar syrup pretending to be maple syrup that you like. It’s all empty calories, but I thought it would be a nice surprise. Symbolic, too.” Fake bacon. Fake pancakes. Fake syrup. They were all fake, but they were my favorite breakfast. His symbolism was loud and clear. He pointed to the dining room with the spatula. “Take a seat. The coffee should be ready in five minutes.” As I moved to leave the kitchen, Gabriel blew a kiss at me and said, “I love you, Auggie.” My heart trembled. He was cooking me my favorite breakfast without being asked or prompted. He blew me a kiss after I’d told him his kisses needed work. He said, “I love you,” without me saying it first. Gabriel was trying. He was actually trying. He heard my objections, and he was trying to overcome them. Could this actually work? 22 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted December 26, 2022 Author Share Posted December 26, 2022 Chapter 29 The following day, I had lunch with Trina and Sheila. I needed perspective, and I could trust them to give it to me. “Could it actually work?” I asked after explaining everything—Douglas breaking up with me, Gabriel’s proposal, and our romantic morning. Sheila scrutinized me closely. “Is this one of those conversations where we tell you what you want to hear, or is this real talk?” “Real talk,” I said. “Get out of that apartment,” she said flatly. “What?” Trina asked. Sheila turned to her, confused. “Were you going to give a different answer?” “Yes. I think they should get married.” As I thought. There was no obvious, straightforward answer. I sat silently while they volleyed back and forth. Sheila turned to look more fully at Trina, nearly ignoring me. “It’s too soon. Douglas just dumped him.” Trina shook her head. “He was never fully committed to Douglas. He’s not even all that sad about it. He barely cried. It doesn’t count.” “Doesn’t count? They were together for months, one of those exclusively.” “During which he lived with Gabriel the whole time,” Trina pointed out. “That doesn’t count,” Sheila said. “The timeline really doesn’t matter,” Trina redirected. “Gabriel’s marriage proposal changed everything.” “That’s the reason Douglas dumped him. Auggie wasn’t even single when Gabriel proposed.” Trina shrugged. “That makes it more romantic to me.” Sheila scoffed. “Romance nothing. That was a business proposal. He keeps listing the goods and services he could provide Auggie. It’s as romantic as a bill of lading.” “Did we hear the same story?” Trina asked. “Here’s a man who doesn’t feel one iota of romantic spark, and he’s bending over backwards to make Auggie feel happy and loved because he does, in fact, love him. I don’t think Johnny loves me that much, and we’re married.” “It’s an act,” Sheila said, turning back to Trina. “He admitted as much. It’s an act he’s putting on because, through no fault of his own, he’s fundamentally incapable of real romance.” “If an act is convincing enough, it might as well be the real thing. And Auggie’s feelings aren’t fake. Gabriel’s doing these things to show Auggie that he honors those feelings.” Sheila rolled her eyes. “Please. This is emotional blackmail. He knows Auggie loves him. He’s doing these things so Auggie feels too guilty to leave, full stop.” “He’s doing these things because he values and respects Auggie.” Trina pounded the table. “You’re kind of making my point for me. Auggie sees value in Gabriel beyond sex and dating. He sees worth in Gabriel’s existence and company. He sees something worthwhile in just being with Gabriel. His love for Auggie is true and thorough. It’s deeper than a romantic love. Gabriel’s doing these things because he can’t reciprocate the feelings Auggie has but wants Auggie to know how much he cares.” “You just made my point,” Sheila said, emphatically gesturing with both hands. “You said it yourself: Gabriel can’t reciprocate these feelings.” She looked me squarely in my eyes. “Be his friend. Be his best friend. Fine. Don’t live with him and deny yourself real love.” Trina scoffed. “It is real love. He knows he can’t meet all of Auggie’s needs, so he’s filling in the gaps he can, and he’s giving Auggie the freedom he needs to meet those other needs elsewhere. He gave Auggie a blank check to have sex outside their marriage. I’m sure he’d even be okay with Auggie having romantic dates if Gabriel wasn’t scratching that itch.” “You just described a roommate,” Sheila said. “That’s the arrangement between two roommates, not between two husbands.” They went on and on like this for half an hour. When my lunch break was over, I interrupted them. “I’ve heard both of you. I really have. There’s just under three weeks left. I’m going to try it. I’m going to give him a chance. If he can convince me in three weeks, I’ll stay.” Trina smiled; Sheila grimaced. “And,” I continued, “I’m going to look for an affordable apartment at the same time in case it doesn’t work out.” “Sensible,” Trina said. “You’ll need it,” Sheila demurred. I had planned on filling in Gabriel on my plan when I got home from work, but instead, he thoroughly distracted me. Gabriel was lounging on the couch only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. All his hair and muscles were hanging out, and his giant bulge weighed his shorts so heavily that the band drooped lazily, exposing the root of his thick, meaty cock. “Welcome home, Auggie,” he said cheerily, spreading his legs to give me a full view of his crotch. “See anything you like?” “What are you doing?” I asked, dropping my keys by the front door. “Breaking Rule #8. Earlier today, I figured out why I insisted on adding that rule all those months ago, and I’m letting that go. Go ahead. Comment on my body. I know you want to.” He looked adamant, but I didn’t want to play along. “You’re gorgeous. You know you’re gorgeous,” I said, a little confused. “Ah, but I know you like complimenting my body. Go ahead. Compliment it.” This seemed important to him, so I decided to try. “You look good with chest hair,” I said, starting lightly. “Really?” he asked delightedly, looking down and fluffing his chest hair with his hands, causing his biceps to crash into his chest. “I’m more than happy to keep it if you like.” He looked at me pointedly. “You have a captivating smile.” Gabriel had never commented on my appearance before. He’d commented on my physical fitness, sure, but not my appearance. I looked down, and I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “And you’re adorable when you blush.” That just made me blush harder. “Do you really mean that?” I asked, looking back up. “Sure do. Now, go ahead.” He flexed his biceps and inflated his chest. “Tell me what you like about my body.” “You’re immense,” I said, my voice unsteady. “You’re the biggest man I’ve ever seen. If I saw a picture of you online, I’d think it was morphed.” He bounced his pecs, then stood up to flex his quads. “Even my legs?” he asked, his thick, meaty legs dancing as he flexed them. “Your legs are bigger than my torso,” I said, astonished. “The light in your eyes is magic,” Gabriel said. “I have never seen anyone who could glow with such glee and wonder.” I could get used to this side of Gabriel. “I can tell the diet and workout plan Hank has you on is working. You look more cut and vascular than I’ve ever seen, and your abs are incomprehensible.” “Thank you,” he said, running his hands idly up and down the ridges of his abs. “When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I want to see is your perfect face.” My head was swimming. “No man has ever said such nice things about me.” “Never?” he asked, surprised. I shook my head. “They’ll tell me I look nice, and they’ll compliment my ass, but normally it’s the big guys like you who get the compliments.” “I like your size,” Gabriel said, walking over to me. He towered above me, but he put his chin on my head and held me close. “You’re just the right height to do this. And when we watch movies, you fit right into the crook of my arm.” He rocked me back and forth. “Your body is made for me to cuddle.” I did not expect this when I got home. I melted into Gabriel’s arms. He held me there, silently, for ten minutes, just rocking me back and forth. The hardness and warmth from his muscles, the spicy exotic tinge of his cologne and natural musk, the gentle swaying. I could’ve stayed there forever, but after ten minutes, his stomach growled. “I’ll get dinner started,” I said, ending the embrace. “No need,” he said calmly. “Please. You already made me breakfast, and I’m the better cook.” “No need because Johnny and Trina are taking us out to dinner. To celebrate our engagement.” I didn’t fully believe it. “Trina didn’t tell me anything about this at lunch.” “I wasn’t supposed to tell you either, but I don’t know how to get you dressed and to the restaurant without telling you we’re going to a fancy engagement dinner.” Internally, I laughed at his honesty. Out loud, I said, “Dress code?” “Johnny’s exact words were ‘yes tie, no jacket.’” With that, I quickly dressed in my nicest collared shirt and fanciest tie. When I came out into the living room, Gabriel was there, looking confused. “I bought these pants two weeks ago,” he said. “And they don’t fit.” He wasn’t exaggerating. His thighs looked fit to explode, and his ass was so mighty and round that I didn’t know how he was going to sit. Most tempting of all, his crotch bulged so intensely that the teeth of his zipper showed and strained. “You’ve been steadily getting bigger for weeks now. How is this a surprise to you?” He put his hand in between the waist and his abs. It fit easily in the space, not even pushing out the fabric. “It’s loose around the waist. I’m used to things getting tighter and tighter. This is loose.” I chubbed up a little at the reality of how huge and cut he was, but out loud I said, “That is strange.” “Can you tie my tie for me?” he asked, dismissing the bizarreness of his pants. “I had trouble with these before I passed 350 pounds. Now, my pecs and bis are so massive they’re on opposing teams.” I walked up to him and did his tie. I pulled it up to his Adam’s apple, noticing how thick his neck was—a true bull neck. As I straightened his tie, my hands danced over the swell of his pecs. His chest was so massive that some of the buttons were threatening to pop. “Thanks, Auggie,” he said simply. I drove us to the restaurant, and as we got to the valet parking, Johnny and Trina pulled in behind us, so we decided to wait for them. Johnny was holding Trina’s door open for her. They were dressed resplendently. I suddenly felt underdressed. “Fuck,” Gabriel said. “Was I supposed to open your door? Was I supposed to drive? Is that how this works now?” Johnny walked over to greet us. “The answer is yes, Gabriel. You should always do things like this for the one you love. Especially if you’ve blown a surprise.” Gabriel tensed, like he’d gotten an answer wrong on a test. I put my hand on Gabriel’s arm, calming him. “If I were a woman, maybe the answer would be yes. But when it’s two dudes, the rules are a bit more grey and fuzzy.” “Evening, all.” Trina said. “Evening,” Johnny said. He was grinning so broadly I thought his face would crack in half. “Did I call it, or did I call it?” Johnny crowed. “I said you’d be engaged by New Year’s, and it’s not even Halloween.” Trina and I exchanged a knowing look. “You were right,” Gabriel said. Quietly, Johnny pulled Gabriel aside. “Don’t let him lie to you. Auggie loves romantic mush like having his door opened for him.” “Even those of us who like romantic mush are capable of opening doors,” Trina said. To make a point of it, she held open the door for all of us. The maître d’ showed us to our table, and I was surprised to see a table set up for six. “Who else is coming?” I asked. “Sheila and Norm were supposed to come,” Trina said as Johnny held out her chair for her. “But they called an hour ago to cancel.” Gabriel held out my chair for me, so I took my seat. As Johnny and Gabriel took their seats, Johnny explained, “They gave an excuse, but it was clearly a lie.” “It’s my fault,” Trina said. “Sheila and I had a silly fight at our lunch with Auggie.” “About what?” Gabriel asked, concerned. Trina and I both knew the real answer would cause a long conversation we were not in the mood for, so we locked eyes and psychically intuited the answer that would encourage no follow-up questions. “Tampons,” we said at the same time. Trina continued. “We’ll make up soon enough, but she probably thought it would make dinner awkward.” “So,” Johnny said loudly, changing the subject, “what did you two get up to last night? I bet it was eventful.” His innocent, breezy voice didn’t fool me. I knew Johnny well enough to read the subtext. He was asking if we’d had sex. Gabriel was unaware of any such subtext. “Auggie broke up with Douglas because we’re getting married. That was pretty eventful.” “I was there for that part,” Johnny said, glossing over Gabriel’s revision of history. “I meant afterwards.” “Nothing after that,” Gabriel said. “Nothing?” Johnny asked, a little surprised. “Nothing,” I confirmed. “That’s disappointing,” Johnny said. Johnny’s face betrayed just how disappointed he was. “Disappointing nothing,” Gabriel said, finally catching on to Johnny’s subtext. “I got a good night’s sleep so I’d be well-rested for the shower Gabriel and I shared this morning.” “That sounds more like it,” Johnny said. Gabriel looked poised to brag about giving me an orgasm without touching my dick, so I warned, “Gabriel, don’t finish that story in front of my brother.” Gabriel nodded, admonished. “There’s more to tell?” Johnny asked, elbowing Gabriel, trying to goad him into telling. I looked Johnny straight in the eyes. “I have five good stories about you that Trina hasn’t heard yet. One involving a jar of relish.” “What looks good?” Johnny asked, changing the subject again, scared I’d tell the relish story. He picked up his menu to punctuate the sentence. Trina laughed loudly, delighted that I could go head to head with her husband. “More to the point,” I said, looking through the menu, “what can I even eat here?” “What can I eat here?” Gabriel echoed, looking forlornly at the menu. “Vegetarian entrees are on the last page,” Johnny said to me. Then, he added, “and Hank sent your dietary restrictions to the kitchen earlier today,” to Gabriel. “Makes my life easier,” Gabriel said, putting down his menu. I oohed in anticipation at some of the vegetarian options. Then, I pondered, “I wonder if there’s chicken broth in the mushroom risotto.” “It’s on the vegetarian page,” Johnny said. “That’s no guarantee,” I assured him. Trina smirked and said, “I’m going to order the poached salmon.” I laughed. “Johnny must love you if he lets you eat fish in his presence.” To Gabriel, I explained, “he can’t stand the smell, even if the smell is only in his imagination.” Johnny nodded. “It’s true. But I’ll get Russian dressing on my salad to retaliate.” “Do, and you’re sleeping on the couch,” she said. “Better than sleeping with the Queen of the Fishwives,” Johnny teased. With a risqué note in her voice, she replied, “If you displease the queen, you’ll lose your head.” Knowing he’d been beat, Johnny placatingly suggested, “How about I order us a chocolate souffle for dessert?” Trina looked tempted, so he added, “I’ll ask for two spoons and let you eat the whole thing.” She crossed her arms and relented. “The queen is pleased,” she said playfully. “You’re forgiven and can sleep in our bed. But you’re showering and brushing your teeth first.” Johnny leaned over and kissed her on the neck a few times. “God, I love this woman.” The whole time, Gabriel had stared at them as though he were taking notes. I was used to their mock fights; it was their main mode of flirting. Gabriel, still new to the dynamic, was getting a free show. When the waiter came over to take our order, Gabriel said, “Before I order, I have to ask, is there any chicken broth in the mushroom risotto?” The waiter said, “Seafood stock.” Gabriel shook his head and said, “That won’t do. My fiancé will have the cauliflower gratin with the ravioli nudi appetizer to start. I believe my order’s already in the kitchen.” “Excellent. Soup or salad with the gratin?” Without missing a beat, Gabriel said, “Salad, house dressing on the side.” The waiter collected our menus and went on to take Johnny and Trina’s orders. While they were sorting things out, he turned to me and asked, “Was that romantic or presumptuous?” “Both,” I said, impressed at his boldness and seamlessness. “But you nailed my order.” Dinner progressed lightly and deliciously. When the rest of us were only halfway through our entrees, Gabriel had already finished. Johnny pointed to Gabriel and said, “You had twice as much food as me, and I’m not close to done yet.” “I was famished. It takes a lot to keep this body fueled,” Gabriel responded. “Where does it all go?” he asked, dumbfounded. By way of answer, Gabriel flexed his left bicep. It grew to an enormous size, overfilling his sleeve. As Gabriel twisted his fist back and forth to make the muscle dance, his sleeve ripped. Exasperated, Gabriel put his arm down to his side. “You need some new clothes, big fella,” Johnny said, pointing out the obvious. “Tell me about it.” Gabriel scooted back in his chair to get more comfortable while hiding his torn sleeve. “I was just showing Auggie. With this new plan Hank has me on, my waist is too loose, and everything else is too tight.” “Don’t let Hank take all the credit,” Johnny said. “You’re the one who’s doing the workouts,” I chimed in. “I meant the drug,” Johnny responded. “The drug is causing your body fat, minimal though it may be, to redistribute. We actually predicted something like this because of the most recent tests we ran.” Trina, irked that her husband would steal Gabriel’s credit, redirected our attention. “I have a needle and thread in my purse,” she said, rummaging through it. “Johnny is prone to catching furniture corners and exposed nails, and he’s gotten clothes stuck in so many doors that I just started carrying them around.” She handed Johnny the needle and thread, and Johnny beckoned Gabriel to follow him. “I’m not going with Trina?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t sew; he does,” Trina clarified. “I just carry the supplies in my purse.” When Johnny and Gabriel came back from the bathroom, Gabriel’s sleeve admirably repaired, he turned to me and said, “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?” “Typical work day.” “Feel like playing hooky?” he tempted. “Why?” Johnny answered for him. “I want Gabriel to get some new clothes for a photo shoot. Some sharp duds. One nice suit. Fashion stuff. We’ll need them to promote the next stage of the study and to drum up interest in the product once it goes to market. I’m pitching Gabriel as our poster boy.” “And,” Gabriel said, “I insisted that I don’t know what I look good in.” Johnny added, “And I suggested that my baby brother was more qualified in that department.” “Are there even fashionable clothes that will fit him?” I asked. “I’ve been shopping at big and tall stores, and then having them tailored,” Gabriel said. “You’ll tell me if they exist.” “You know this will break Rule #6,” I said. “Sort of the point,” Gabriel admitted. Johnny cleared his throat. “He didn’t tell you the best part.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I was getting to that. Johnny wants me to buy costumes. To wear for you.” I looked at Johnny leerily, my eyebrows raised. “Don’t knock it,” Johnny said. “Costumes spiced up our honeymoon.” Trina smiled fondly. “He tries a little harder when he’s dressed like a cowboy.” “Yee-ha,” Johnny said in agreement. I could’ve lived without that mental image. “We don’t have to do that part,” I said to Gabriel. “You don’t have to buy costumes for me.” “Oh, but that’s the part I was looking forward to,” he teased. 20 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted December 26, 2022 Author Share Posted December 26, 2022 Chapter 30 I called out of work the next day. I didn’t actually have any sick days left, but it wasn’t as though they would bring armed guards to my house. One day without pay wasn’t the end of the world. Gabriel and I were at the big and tall men’s shop in the mall when it opened. “They have a limited selection,” he explained, “but they tend to get the most mainstream designers, and they’re willing to special order things—things I can’t access online.” When we got there, a pleasant, rotund man with thick gray hair and chunky glasses greeted us. He was impeccably dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, disguising just how plump he was. From the moment he started talking, I could tell he was as gay as me. “Gabriel!” he shouted. “My favorite customer in the world is back! And, oh, he’s even bigger! Come, come! Show Papa how big you’ve grown.” He began poking and prodding Gabriel’s arm, gesturing for Gabriel to lift it. “Greetings, Octavio,” Gabriel said flatly. “Tavi!” he insisted. “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Tavi! Or Papa! Or any other little pet name your dirty mind can think of.” He continued urging Gabriel to flex. “Octavio is so formal.” “It’s what your name tag says,” Gabriel remarked, pointing to the thin blue placard on the man’s lapel. “Flex for Papa. Come on.” Gabriel, looking visibly uncomfortable, flexed his arm. Octavio cooed when he saw Gabriel’s giant peak reach its summit. “It’s enough to make a grown man weep!” He fanned himself with his hand. “Are you sure you won’t run away with me? We could spend weeks doing unspeakable acts to each other before my bank account ran dry.” His tone was charming and lighthearted, but I hoped he was professional enough not to treat to all his customers this way. As though I were a shield, Gabriel positioned me between him and Octavio. “This is Auggie. My fiancé.” Octavio looked me up and down. “I don’t see a ring on his finger, so I’ll have to take you at your word.” He bent over and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. My nose was assaulted with his perfume, a floral medley prominently featuring gardenia, followed by the faint scent of talcum powder. He surrounded my body, pinning my arms to my sides, and in a menacing tone so quiet only I could hear him, he whispered in my ear, “When he grows tired of you, Papa Tavi will swoop in and steal him.” He ended the hug, kissed my right cheek, pinched my left one, and was all smiles and kindness again. “What can I get for you today?” Gabriel explained about the photo shoot and said that there should also be some special orders waiting for him, one of which he wanted to try on in-store. Octavio fluttered off to retrieve some pieces that had just come in. “He is terrifying,” I said. “Undoubtedly,” Gabriel agreed. “But the straight salesmen are worse. Extremely unhelpful, veiled insults, open insults, unwilling to place special orders, just this side of violent… I’ll take creepy and flirtatious.” “You like this store?” I asked. “When you’re a guy my size, you take what you can get. He’s been picking out my clothes for weeks—even back when I still needed office clothes.” “Gabriel, darling, baby, pussycat! Papa Tavi has a dressing room waiting for you,” Octavio called from across the store. When both Gabriel and I came over to the dressing room, Octavio glowered at me and said, “The boy can wait out here.” Gabriel came back out of the dressing room two minutes later. He was partially wrapped in a mint green Oxford shirt, but his chest was far too big—he couldn’t even come near fastening the top four buttons. His giant, hairy pecs were on full display. His arms looked like stuffed sausages, and the sleeves stopped halfway down the forearm; the cuffs were unbuttoned. When Gabriel turned around, we could see that if he breathed in too deeply, he’d tear this shirt clean off his back. The pants—a pair of black dress pants in a luxurious fabric—were no better—he couldn’t even get them part-way up his thighs, let alone squeeze in his massive ass and giant genitals, so his boxers were all that was between him and indecent exposure. “I need bigger sizes, Octavio.” “Funny,” Octavio said. “This was your size the last time you were here. Let Papa Tavi fix it.” With that, Octavio was off again. “I like the color,” I said meekly. “There’s no way this shirt would have fit me two weeks ago. He did this on purpose, right?” “Probably,” I said. Octavio came bounding back with the same shirt in a larger size. It looked like a circus tent flapping in the breeze behind him. Slung over one arm, he had the same pair of pants, also in a larger size. To me, it looked like my entire body could fit easily into one leg. Clearly, part of Octavio’s game was going from too small to too large. “Try these, Gabriel.” Gabriel took the clothes, and when he came back out, I was dumbfounded. Those clownishly large clothes fit Gabriel well. The chest was comfortably buttoned, he fit all of his equipment in the front of the pants, and his ass looked lovingly caressed by the back. The only downside was that the shirt billowed around his waist. And I mean billowed. This shirt was made for an extremely obese individual, so Gabriel’s taut, firm waist was surrounded by several inches of air before any fabric. “Yeah, this color is perfect,” I said, “but we’ll have to tailor it to show off your trim midsection.” “Allow Papa,” Octavio said, producing three clips. He clipped Gabriel’s shirt in the back to tighten it around his stomach. With the clips in place, he led Gabriel over to a nearby mirror. Head on, Gabriel looked like a fashion model. Okay, a superhero moonlighting as a fashion model, but it looked amazing. He looked chic, and the little tuft of chest hair poking up through the unbuttoned collar was scintillating. “Is there a bigger size?” Gabriel asked, turning back and forth in front of the mirror. “This fits perfectly,” Octavio protested. “I’m a growing boy,” Gabriel said. “Are you ever.” Octavio fanned himself again with the other hand, his pinky ring catching the fluorescent lights of the store. “Our next size up is the biggest size. After that, you’ll need to special order.” “Do you like this outfit, Auggie?” Gabriel asked, turning to see how well the pants fit his ass, giving me the full show of just how delicious his legs looked in those pants—thick, bulging, sturdy. “It’s perfect,” I said. “Then let’s do both, Octavio. The bigger size and the special order.” “Of course,” Octavio said. “It’s not like I’m paying,” Gabriel mused to himself. I looked at the mass of fabric clipped to his back. “With the amount of fabric you’re having removed from the middle, I could make another shirt,” I said. Gabriel said, “Too true,” and went back into the changing room. Octavio looked down at me, a bitter, hateful fire in his eyes. We stayed, locked in that death glare, until Gabriel came back out. What I saw knocked me backwards, nearly causing me to topple over. Gabriel was in a crisp black suit, with a black dress shirt underneath. The lines were clean and sharp, highlighting the sharp contours of his face. His chest proudly stuck through the opening in the suit jacket, and the suit jacket buttoned snugly around his waist. His cock bulge was obvious, but with the black-on-black aesthetic, it looked daring rather than obscene. In fact, the whole ensemble made him look like a stealthy James Bond, if James Bond had a beard and had been beefed up with an extra 200 pounds of muscle. I was literally dumbstruck. Octavio was similarly stunned silent. “What do you think?” Gabriel asked, turning around. “I know I’m not wearing shoes, and I don’t have a tie, but the basic idea…” Turning around gave us a full view of Gabriel’s superb, massive ass, which was dreamily robed in gorgeous, silky fabric. It was the most breathtaking thing I had ever seen. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and all the saints, and angels, and apostles!” Octavio said, snapping out of his stupor. Gabriel turned around, shocked by that outburst. “Is it bad?” he asked. “I thought it looked good, but…” I put my hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” I was practically quivering at how beautiful he looked. “Okay, then,” he said. “I’m glad I had it made. And, it was designed so it can be altered and let out as I get bigger.” “You have to wear that for the photoshoot,” I said. “Nah,” Gabriel said. “The pale green is for the photo shoot.” “But the suit…?” I was confused. “Is for our wedding,” Gabriel said. “Rush order.” “This was a rush order?” I asked, confused. “You could’ve fooled me.” Gabriel positioned me so I was standing in front of him in the mirror. “You wear a monochromatic suit with a black tie. I wear this with a tie the color of your suit.” He put his hands on my shoulder. “What do you think?” My head swam with the ideas. “Royal blue,” I declared. “I look amazing in royal blue.” Over his shoulder, Gabriel asked, “Would a blue tie go with this, Octavio?” Octavio didn’t answer. He was trying to catch his breath while fanning his face with both hands. “That’s a yes,” I said. Gabriel began swaying me back and forth as he spoke. “We’ll get married in an old hotel. One of those places that has a function hall. The guests can stay upstairs. We’ll dance until midnight. Instead of carrying you across a threshold, I’ll carry you upstairs to our room. One-handed ‘cause you’re so light. The next morning, I’ll drive you on my motorcycle to our honeymoon, your arms wrapped around my waist the entire ride up. Matching helmets saying something goofy, like ‘His & His’ or ‘Just Married’ or ‘Honeymoon or Bust.’ I know you like glamping, so we’ll spend a week at a luxury cabin, surrounded by trees and nature, but every modern convenience inside. Every morning, I’ll chop us some wood, shirtless of course, for a roaring fire. We can sleep right in front of the fire, on a bearskin rug.” He leaned in really close to me. “How’s it sound?” “Like heaven,” I said, a tear escaping my eye. “Good,” Gabriel said. Leaving me to my imagination, he turned around to address Octavio, who by this time had caught his breath. “Octavio, I have been told by some of the other customers to ask for items off the rack.” “Off the rack?” Octavio said, intrigued but unsure. “Oh, sorry,” Gabriel said. “That’s not how I was supposed to ask.” Gabriel cleared his throat. Calmly, making sure each word was perfect, he said, “I need to peruse Octavio’s private, off-the-rack collection.” Octavio smiled broadly. “Right this way,” he said, beckoning us to follow him by curling and uncurling his pointer finger. Gabriel followed Octavio, but I stared where I was. “C’mon, Auggie,” he called excitedly. “This is the good part.” I followed Gabriel—still barefoot and in his immaculate suit. He was following Octavio to a back room. Once we were there, Octavio locked a door behind us and flipped on a green light switch. “Most of our customers are too shy or embarrassed to look at the sexy clothes,” Octavio said, “but big men want to feel sexy too. I keep our erotic line back here.” Octavio looked Gabriel up and down again, judiciously. “Oh, how I’ve wanted to get you back here with me,” Octavio said. “Of course, in my fantasies, the boy wasn’t here,” he added, practically spitting the words. Gabriel began looking through a rack of silk pajamas next to a shelf filled with individually wrapped costumes, but Octavio lightly and playfully smacked his hand. “Foolish man,” Octavio said. “You’re far too big to fit into anything over here.” He pulled us further back into the room. “Unfortunately, for a man of your daunting physique, the prêt-à-porter selections are ironically quite slim. I’d be happy to special order, but if you want to buy it today, you have four options.” “Okay,” Gabriel said. “What are the choices?” “I’m afraid they’re quite basic, tame, and vanilla.” The way he said “vanilla,” he practically licked the word. He took us to a rack all the way at the back of the room and showed us the selection. “Fireman, cowboy, policeman, astronaut.” “It’s like they asked a five-year-old what he wanted to be when he grew up,” I said. Despite the lackluster selection, each costume looked surprisingly high quality—durable, stylish, and each with a matching hat or helmet. “There’s a caveman costume you might have fit into, but…” Octavio didn’t know how to finish the sentence, “you’re big everywhere.” This time, he licked the word “everywhere.” “Kind of rules it out.” “What do you think, Auggie?” he asked, putting the cowboy hat on. “What do I think?” “I’m buying it to wear for you,” he said eagerly. “Whatever you want, I’ll get it.” Octavio demurely cleared his throat. “If I may say, in my experience, it works best if you pick the costume that makes you feel the sexiest.” I could practically see the words “Error 404: File Not Found” flash in Gabriel’s eyes. But, he quickly gathered himself and lied, saying, “I feel the sexiest if he thinks I’m sexy.” Deft. I was proud of that answer. I snatched the cowboy hat off his head. “In that case, nix the cowboy. Johnny’s ruined them for me forever.” Gabriel nodded. “Former lover?” Octavio asked, I suspect trying to stir the pot. “My straight brother who is an over-sharer,” I corrected. I pushed the astronaut to the side, saying, “On you, this would look like a silver Hefty bag.” Gabriel took the remaining two costumes off the rack, still on their hangers, and held them in front of him one by one. “That leaves cop or fireman.” “The cop matches your motorcycle,” I said. “Ooh,” Gabriel said, excitedly, flipping the costume around, showing me a plastic bag of accessories attached to costume. “It comes with handcuffs and a baton.” He tried on the policeman’s hat. He looked at me expectantly. “I could pretend to arrest you.” His tone said, “I know from research that that’s kinky but am not sure why.” The odd combo of formal suit and policeman’s hat was somehow working for him. However, I was 99% sure Gabriel had no idea what most gay men would use that baton for. “Or,” Gabriel said, taking off the cop’s hat and replacing it with the fireman’s helmet, “I could rescue you. Be your hero instead of your antagonist.” Then, inspiration hit him. “And on our honeymoon, there’s gonna be an axe and a fireplace. We could figure a scenario out with that.” He was taking the concept of “role play” a bit literally. “I don’t know…” I admitted. “If these don’t do it for you, we can do a special order.” I stayed silent. Gabriel nudged me with his elbow. “C’mon, Auggie. What’s your deepest fantasy?” He was sincere and ready to please. “I don’t think you want to hear it,” I admitted. “You might not want to watch movies with me anymore.” “Oh,” Gabriel said, realizing the obvious. “You like action movies differently than I do.” I nodded. Gabriel turned to Octavio. “Could you special order me a sexy martial arts gi, or a Robocop costume, or a…” Gabriel snapped a few times and pointed at me, indicating I should finish the sentence. Looking down at the floor, I said, “Commando uniform from Predator.” Gabriel nodded, knowingly. “Dutch. That could be fun.” Octavio grinned, the thought of a half-naked, sweaty Gabriel traipsing through his head. “I could get all three.” “Done,” Gabriel said. Our business concluded, we paid for Gabriel’s purchases, including his small box of special orders—t-shirts, jeans, and workout clothes—and left the store. When we got to the car, Gabriel physically relaxed. “I’m glad we got everything we needed in one stop.” “We wouldn’t have if you hadn’t special ordered,” I pointed out. “Once I get to a stable size,” Gabriel said, buckling, “I’m going to get a whole new wardrobe. It’ll be the last time I go clothes shopping for a year.” A question that needed answering sprung into my mind. “What do you expect your ultimate size will be?” “I’m shooting for 400,” Gabriel said. “Anything past that is gravy.” “A 400-pound groom,” I mused. “That’ll be a sight to see.” Before he pulled out of the parking spot, he looked at me and said, “I’m so happy you’re getting excited for the wedding. And if my idea for the honeymoon isn’t up your alley, just let me know. I haven’t made any definitive plans.” He’s asking about the honeymoon. He bought those costumes. He wanted me to let him know. Honeymoon. We’d have to talk about it eventually. I started plaintively, “Octavio thinks we’re fucking.” “Everyone thinks we’re fucking,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly. “Everyone.” “Let me try this a different way,” I said. “Why do people take honeymoons?” “It’s an extended sex vacation,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly. “Okay, good. And what would we do on our honeymoon?” I asked. “I wouldn’t have offered a honeymoon,” Gabriel said, “if I wasn’t planning to give you a honeymoon.” He technically hadn’t answered my question, but his non-answer intrigued me. 28 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
actorsarecool Posted December 26, 2022 Share Posted December 26, 2022 I’m hoping Gabriel breaks not only 400 pounds (here’s wishing that it’s closer to 500 by the time he’s done!) but also that dam that opens the sexual floodgates. If the last few chapters show, I’m thinking he would be an absolute juggernaut in that department. But if the story keeps him from having sexual feelings - that would be completely fine. Thanks for such a thrilling story! 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted December 26, 2022 Share Posted December 26, 2022 Auggie needs to get out of there. There’s something quite sinister about Gabriel’s whole performance; combined with his toxicity and manipulative streak… 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
W0lven Posted December 26, 2022 Share Posted December 26, 2022 I'm kind of scared for both of them 'cause as much as they both want to be in each other's life, they're heading for trouble fast 3 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted December 26, 2022 Share Posted December 26, 2022 Dang more roller coasters . . . . Hope everything will be all right in the end 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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