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Unspokenly, Valentino and Vox mutually harbored sly intent when they agreed to go out to dinner tonight.
Upon arrival, Vox got straight to work on devouring the bread basket. Before they even ordered drinks, Vox’s mouth was stuffed full, crumbs decorating the front of his blazer as the waiter tried to decipher his requests.
“I’ll take your fettuccini, and give that extra cheese,” he spat incoherently through a stick of bread, somehow still managing to appear charming.
Valentino unfurled Vox’s silverware without being asked, setting the utensils aside and hooking the napkin into Vox’s shirt for him. “He wants your cheesiest fettuccini,” he translated patiently, honeyed sweet.
The waiter scurried away after grabbing both of their orders, but Vox continued to make a meal out of the bread.
“You’re hungry tonight,” Val observed with an adoring glint in his eye.
“I had a small lunch,” he justified automatically, sprinkling garlic powder over his bread before popping another stick into his mouth.
“You ate six pancakes, amor. And you finished both of our milkshakes.”
He nodded enthusiastically, spitting crumbs as he talked. “Exactly! It was small.”
Val giggled, indulging. “Well, order as much as you want, cariño. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
—
By the time the food arrived, Vox had downed a whole Coca-Cola, plus a refill. He leaned across the table to grab his plate of fettuccini, his belly sloshing audibly as he moved. “Ah, fuck,” he groused beneath his breath, mildly strained. Not a moment after, he burped loudly into his mouth.
Grrrrkgh.
Vox sighed in relief, now satisfied on two fronts: his proper dinner was served at last, and he worked up what was bloating his belly.
Valentino faintly scowled at the rude sound, but withheld comment. At least he had attempted to muffle it within his mouth. Val could give him a bit of grace for one burp.
—
Valentino had barely dented his soup when Vox was scraping the excess cheese off the bottom of his plate, licking it off his fork.
“God, that was divine, Val.”
A pulse of warmth spread within Val’s skirt at the open admission. Vox leaned back in the booth, rubbing his stomach. His shirt pulled tighter now than when Valentino had helped put it on him earlier. The middle buttons strained, his belly stretching the clothing.
“It tasted good to you?”
Vox lifted his head to answer, beginning, “It was fucking fantas—” But a big, creamy belch cut him off.
BRRRRUP.
Several nearby diners glanced over.
Valentino’s mouth fell agape in patent offense. “Vox!”
Vox’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at his own body’s interruption. His mouth curled, smirking at Val. “Well, pardon me.” He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
“Baby,” Val hissed, spoon hovering over his soup bowl. “We are in public. At least cover your mouth.”
Vox shrugged, nonplussed. He casually swiped cheese off his mouth with a napkin. “That was my compliment to the chef.”
—
Vox did not let his food settle for more than a minute before he was waving the waiter back over to their table. After studying the menu with adorably focused intent, he finally ordered. “I’d actually like to try a bowl of your chili. And go ahead and bring us some lava cakes, while you’re at it.”
“How many would you like, sir? One for you, one for the missus?”
Vox’s grin sprouted wider, confidence pouring off him in waves. “Bring us five.”
—
While Valentino still worked on his soup, Vox slurped up his chili in a few bites. He seemed oblivious to how much he dripped, too transfixed.
Val slid out of his chair with an enamored chuckle, then sidled in next to Vox. “Baby, you’re dribbling.” With Vox’s napkin, Val wiped up the mess on his belly.
“Val, honey, I’m trying to eat.”
“You’re making a mess, amor.” There was no bitterness or disgust in his tone, even as he lovingly chided him. His eyes crinkled as he watched Vox’s throat work the food down. His belly rumbled with every few bites.
rrrrghrgh… rrrghl…
Val hummed delightfully. His hands fell upon the swollen belly and began to rub circles. “Your tummy is being noisy.” Little gurgles rumbled against his palms.
Vox breathed deep and satisfied as soon as Val began to massage him. He hummed through his spoonful of chili.
“Does that feel good, honey?”
“Val, you have magic hands.” His eyes fluttered closed, reveling in Val’s effective work. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded breathily, before a long, deep belch pushed its way up.
Buuurrrrrrrgghh.
Vox immediately chuckled upon releasing it. He sneered at Val, who was seated only a few unfortunate inches from his face.
“Baby!” Val recoiled, his antennae flicking erratically at the sudden burst in his face. “That’s gross!”
“Sorry, hon,” he flippantly excused himself. “Had to get that out.” He leaned forward, kissing Val on the cheek. His breath smelled potently of too many foods combined, stewing in his belly.
Val didn’t sulk for long, their collective enjoyment still winning him over. “Are you still hungry, bebé?”
Vox grinned, shark-toothed and ravishing. “Is that rhetorical?”
He pulled a plated lava cake up to Vox at the table. “You’ve still got dessert waiting for you.”
Vox nearly drooled, wasting no time before digging his fork into the chocolate. He shoved a gigantic first bite into his mouth, groaning in satisfaction as the flavors melted into his mouth. “God.”
Valentino continued to work his hands into Vox’s thick belly, aiding in his digestion. He wanted Vox to comfortably pack away as much food as he could hold.
He scarfed down the first cake as though he were famished. He then plowed through the next four with vicious intent. Valentino took a few bites, but the bulk of the dessert was for Vox.
—
“Alright, the check’s clear,” Vox announced proudly, pushing the folder away after scribbling in a tip. “Time to bug out.”
The dismissal was so casual. Vox thoughtlessly pushed out of the booth to leave.
…But he promptly flopped right back down.
“...Shit.” His belly groaned agitatedly, the heaps of food swimming around, audibly brewing up gas. On cue, Vox raised a fist to his mouth, releasing a thick burp.
BRRRRRRUP.
Val immediately shot him a glare. “Excuse you.”
“Jesus,” Vox laughed at himself, smug and satisfied with his own belches. “You hear that one, Val?”
“Me and everybody else in the restaurant, probably. Conchino…”
Vox wasn’t bothered by the scolding. “I think it helped clear some space.” To test it, he tried to stand up again.
He got a little further this time, but his belly still pressed threateningly against the table. “Oof,” he grunted, falling back down again. “Goddamn it, Val. I’m too damn full for this.”
“Ohhh, papi…” Valentino was overjoyed at the display, reaching all four arms out for him. “Come on, handsome.” Interlocking their hands, Val eased him out of the seat.
Once out, Vox stumbled slightly, immediately cradling his bloated belly. “Woah.”
grrrllgh…
An audible churn resounded between them, a clear sign of his fullness. But Vox appeared more satisfied than distressed.
Val hooked an arm around Vox’s elbow as he practically waddled out to their limo.
—
Back at the Tower, Valentino immediately ran a bath.
Vox, stripped of his clothes, moved with deliberate caution as he lowered himself into the tub.
Immediately upon being enwrapped in the warm water, Vox melted. “Ohhh, that feels nice.”
“Is it warm enough for you?” Val grinned fondly, watching as Vox rubbed lazy circles on his bloated tummy.
“It’s delightful, Val,” he admitted earnestly. He gazed up at him through halflidded eyes. “Thank you.”
Vox hummed, overcome with affection. He gently nudged Vox’s hand off his belly, recusing it of the job—and replaced it with two of his own. Valentino massaged devout circles into the gurgling belly. It stuck slightly out of the water with its fullness, bubbles flowing off the sides of the chubby mound.
A faint rumble could be heard beneath the water, before a robust burp made its way up. Vox did not bother with stifling it in any way, even more emboldened in the privacy of their bathroom.
BRRUUUP.
He huffed satisfiedly afterwards, then flashed a proud grin, daring Val to scold him. “Oh, that feels better.”
Valentino struck a mild face, his lip curling as the slight odor wafted through the bathtub’s steam. “Nasty.”
It didn’t deter Vox. If anything, he stretched out more, kicking his legs up against the tub’s walls. “Keep it coming, Val. You’re saving my stomach here.”
Suddenly, Val’s face twisted in unbridled concern. Judgment washed away. “Does it hurt?”
“Oh—no, no, I’m alright.” Vox realized his mistake, picking up Val’s hand to press a kiss. “I’m okay. Just trying to digest, that’s all.”
Valentino studied him closely, probing his face for a lie. Vox seemed honest enough. He smiled up at Val assuringly.
“...But you feel better when you burp?”
Vox sneered playfully. “So much better.” To prove it, he lifted a fist and burped into it, then flashed him a grin afterward. “See? Better already.”
Val nodded apprehensively, but let himself relax a little. “Okay, honey,” he conceded. Val just needed to massage his tummy with the salts and suds.
After a few minutes of Val silently working, Vox punctured the softened atmosphere. “Did you enjoy dinner tonight?”
“Hm?” Val hummed distractedly, fixated on one particularly tight knot in his belly.
It seemed to work, pushing up a short but deep burp.
BRRP.
“Oh,” Vox stammered, pleasantly surprised by the relief. “Why, thank you, Val.”
“...Dinner?” With the task solved, Val finally processed the question in full. “Of course, bebé. The soup was yummy.”
“Well, I’m sure it was, Val, but…” Vox trailed off for a beat, looking down. He mulled over the words in his mind.
As soon as he noticed the cyan flush creeping onto Vox’s screen, Val understood. He sprouted a grin. “…Did I like watching you scarf down all those plates?”
Vox huffed a laugh, the water rippling as he pulled his knees towards himself in the tub. “You could say that.” Suds poorly concealed his groin’s growing stiffness, his arousal pulsating through him at the mere discussion. “...Well, did you?”
He was so painfully earnest. For once, Vox’s face was nakedly vulnerable, gazing up at Val with dangerous hope. If Val ever forgot how badly Vox innately yearned to please, moments such as this reminded him.
“I adored it,” Val affirmed, leaning down to give his tummy a kiss. It tasted soapy through the water, but he still returned to peck it a few more times. The tummy twitched and recoiled, tickled by Val’s lips.
Rrrup.
An adorably polite burp burst out of Vox’s mouth as a result of Val’s gentle presses. Vox actually flushed, scandalized by the lack of control. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, far less smug than the burps from before.
Valentino could not help an unbridled giggle at Vox’s sudden, endearing bashfulness. It was so adorably out of character, warming Val’s chest from the inside out. Vox was relaxed, content, and fed, enough to make himself comfortable. Valentino enjoyed nothing more than seeing his man in bliss like this.