Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fusing cow DNA with other farm animals as a way to make them fattier; more efficient than hormones, the animals would enlarge quickly with only one shot. There’s never been a breakthrough this big in modern society; pun intended. Namjoon is sure of it. It will mean a lot less animals to feed more people, less produsage of synthetic hormones, less costs of maintaining the animals overall. Their DNA’s changed to the evolutionary advantage of the grazing animal: natural and exponential fat storage. 

The math has already been done, the approval for the funding of the project already spent on Namjoon’s further investigation. An absurd amount of money, more than the recently graduated food engineer could ever even phantom for one of his experiments, was given to him. They said it would be huge. Easily becoming a nationwide thing, if not international. Yeah… he was still struggling to grasp it himself. 

A mixture of giddiness and anxiety became a constant cocktail in his stomach during the testing process. Thousands of chickens with his fusion shot and thousands without, grown in the very controlled environment of the lab funding him. Growing under the exact same circumstances, just to see which one (if any) would show signs of Namjoon’s elixir. It took months of preparation alone and it would be nearly 4 years of experimenting with different animals testing their reaction to the shot, before Namjoon’s project was approved by the government. And started to be used by different food distributors around Korea. 

It’ll be huge; pun intended. 

“Surprise!” The roar erupts through the entirety of Namjoon’s apartments as he turns the lights on. Just having come home from work to find the entirety of his friend group inside his apartment. Startling him enough to drop his bag, for his hand to press against his chest. Past the stammering of his heart he can see the little chibi cow decorations all over his and Jungkook’s apartment. A hand painted “Congratulations!!!” sign crosses the living room, and the room is filled with black and white balloons. 

“Oh my god. You guys are the WORST!” Namjoon whines but it has no bite to it. And the wide embarrassed smile on his face gives him completely away. He doesn’t even get to say a proper thank you before arms wrap around him into a tight hug. Only realizing a second after that is Jungkook’s muscular arms keeping him in a tight grip. But then feels Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok and (reluctantly) Yoongi. A choir of congratulations surrounded him in warmth far beyond physical. 

Only when he is released from the group hug is that he can eye the renovation his and Jungkook’s apartment has undergone for the night. There are little chibi cartoon cow cutouts stuck all over the place, the napkins are cow printed, and the congratulations sign looks messy enough to have had everyone’s participation in its making. 

It's been years of work and this was the reward and praise he didn’t know he needed. Making his: “You really didn’t have to.” show the lump that forms in his throat and tight from the way his face scrunches up. 

“Aish, you’re always such a cry baby.” Even if he is rolling his eyes as he says it, Yoongi’s voice sounds just as thick as he tugs Namjoon back for another hug, tighter than he remembers it being in the group embrace. 

“Yoongi is just emotional because he went to 6 different stores to try and get some of your chicken, Joon-ah.” Jimin comments with a knowing smile. False, Yoongi is emotional because Namjoon is his best friend and he is incredibly proud; it's known throughout the room, they don't need to say it. 

“It- It sold out so quickly.” He mumbles out, still obviously teared up but hidden in the safety of Namjoon's shoulder. Teared up about the chicken, obviously. 

“Enough sentimentalism.” Seokjin whines, grabbing Namjoon’s hand before he tugs the hugging pair towards the set table. “The food will get cold!” All Namjoon can do is chuckle at the way Yoongi nuzzles to hide just a little bit longer in the crook of his neck. 

“Leave some Namjoon for the rest of us.” Seokjin scolds as Namjoon is sat at the edge of the table and peeled away from a grumbling Yoongi who quickly recomposes himself. Even if it looked like Seokjin would be the next one to cling to his side, it was Taehyung who beat him to it, pressing a kiss to Namjoon’s forehead with a smile. 

“Congratulations, hyung.” The deep voice but bright puppy-like gaze that stares down at him makes warmth spread across Namjoon’s chest, returning the wide boxy grin with one of his own. “Your chicken smells delicious.”

“Yah! Namjoon had no influence over the frying of tonight's dinner.” Jungkook erupts from his and Namjoon’s small kitchen with oven mittens that hold a big tray of fried chicken. It does smell pretty good. Even if the youngest is frowning, the wide grin gives him away.

“I just hope you didn’t use any of those healthy replacements for frying oil.” Taehyung mumbles leaving his spot above Namjoon to cram himself in their table that's definitely not meant for seven people to sit at. 

“I supervised him, don’t worry.” Seokjin’s cocky smile grows, nodding softly in reassurance. 

“You know avocado oil has a lot of benefits!” Hoseok interjects, finger accusing in Taeyung’s direction. 

“Never said it didn’t, I just don’t want it anywhere near my fried chicken.” Jimin’s nose scrunches up a little. 

“I heard it gives you gray hairs.” Yoongi’s tone is nonchalant, probably just to provoke outrage from the health freaks at the table, if his bullshiting smile is anything to go by. 

“No it doesn’t.”  The youngest whines, frustration evident in  his voice. It hasn't been the first time this has happened.

“Why do you hate every single healthy thing I bring to the table?” Hoseok’s tone sounds a lot more tired, pout beginning to form on his face completely turned to Yoongi.

“I don’t hate them. I just like seeing you try to defend that stuff.” The gummy smile Hoseok gets in return makes every bite clinging to his words melt away.

“Don’t put me on the same level as Hoseok! You know I love fried chicken.” Jungkook starts serving everyone a couple of pieces. They’re bigger than average, perfectly golden and crispy. 

“You are still kind of a health freak, come on.” Taehyung chuckles a bit. 

“Jimin is far worse!” The accusing finger makes all his eyes turn to him. Though Jimin looks completely unaffected.

“Yeah but I mind my business. Instead of trying to defend avocado oil.” His giggles slip through before he finishes the sentence, and they’re contagious. Spreading through the room; even Hoseok. 

“Can’t we just focus on Namjoon??” He whines, even if Namjoon found himself being more than comfortable hearing them bicker. Because of this project Namjoon had barely gotten any time to spend with them, unless it was the occasional shared meal watching one of Jungkook’s dramas when he didn’t arrive home too late. Seeing them all together now for him, he forgot how loved they make him feel. 

How much he missed them… How much he missed out on all this time consumed by his work. 

That finally will stop being a problem now.

“I just want to see your reactions to it.” Even if he is calm as he says it, his excited grin must give it away how eager he is. Namjooon hadn’t even tried it himself, he doesn’t really eat that much meat. Ironic, he knows. 

All health disputes are put aside in favor of the nervous smile in Namjoon’s lips. As they eagerly bite down onto the new cow-fused chicken; and Namjoon feels his stomach tighten not biting into his before he catches the way all of their faces light up, eyebrows shooting up and frowning, shocked by the taste. It doesn’t soothe him until he hears the choir of moans. 

“Oh my god Namjoon-ah!” Seokjin groans, barely waiting to swallow before he is taking another bite. Jungkook is shaking his head in an expression he knows (only by years of being his roommate) means the food is sublime. Yoongi's eyes are wide, and Jimin’s completely closed. Taehyung isn’t waiting for the shock to pass before reaching for another mouthful. And Hoseok looks completely stunned. It's a stilled moment in Namjoon’s mind, that one second imprints in Namjoon’s mind before the moment breaks and everyone starts scarfing down the food. 

He is so entranced in the sight he doesn’t even bother with his own chicken thigh on his plate. Mesmerized at the ways his friends tug at the crispy skin and pick the bones clean at record speed. With a level of desperation he doesn’t think he’s ever seen in any of them, ever. If they are doing it just to show support, he is very touched. 

If it's genuine… he doesn’t want to dwell on his feelings if this starved hunger is genuine. 

Even if his staring was maybe becoming suspicious, the loud chatter interrupted by constant chewing as comments of praise keep on rolling helplessly out their tongue before another mouthful is shoveled in. But it's Namjoon’s disinterest with his dish that strikes Yoongi. “Joon-ah, aren’t you going to try it?” He asks not bothered to stop chewing while he does. Cheeks full of what he guesses is Yoongi’s second piece already. Though it's probably everyone’s second. 

“Oh–right.” He smiles embarrassed down at his plate, feeling caught even if not intentionally. He grabs the piece and takes a bite into it. 

Yeah… The fusion only  gives the meat a stronger taste; a taste he still doesn’t really like. But he recognizes how his elixir managed to change it from a regular chicken thigh, and people seem to love it! His taste doesn’t matter, Namjoon still considers it a win. After a single bite he is taking a sip of his beer just to wash the taste away. Stunning Taehyung next to him. 

“You’re not gonna finish that?” Even if the question is casual, his expression screams disbelief as he watches Namjoon’s nearly untouched dish. 

“Nah, I have some leftover noodles.” He smiles and passes it in Taehyung’s direction, who eagerly takes it. A little stack of clean bones stacked on his plate; Namjoon was too caught up watching them to focus on how much they all ate. But one quick glance at the tray Jungkook prepared was enough to let Namjoon know… they were close to done with it. 

How are they not full?! It looked like enough food for everyone to take home at least some leftovers. Yet here they were, eagerly leaning closer to the tray to take out the last few remaining pieces. Small victorious smile in Jimin’s and Seokjin’s faces as they get to snatch the last two pieces; not waiting any longer to start biting into it. 

It's as if they could not control themselves after having a bite, the shock of their fullness only hitting after the last bite. He notices when Jungkook’s grease covered hands fall on the table and he leans back on the chair with a deep groan. Though Namjoon doesn’t get time to register the blush that grows on his face; because Hoseok is gasping for air, his breathing is a little heavy from what Namjoon can only assume is the extortion of his stomach. He can practically hear with each sharp breath the way the fullness is coaxing air out of Hoseok’s lungs. 

Yoongi is licking at his fingers, though he starts eager and becomes lazier with every passing second that he isn’t shoveling food into his mouth. Taehyung is the same, dropping the clean bone, throwing his head back against the backrest of the chair, groaning quietly. Surprisingly Jimin beats Seokjin in finishing those last pieces first. A small moan in complaint as he swallows the last piece, as if he was doing completely for the sake of just having as much chicken as possible.

And when Seokjin is the last one, he leans back and actually has the conscience to meet Namjoon’s eyes. Smiling a little in disbelief, his eyes drowsy with how fully he must feel. 

“Great job hyung.” Jimin chuckles, eyeing the rest of them. “Managed to shut us up!”  Even if he giggles heartily afterwards there's definitely that breathlessness to his voice. And even if they all try to laugh along, it looks like they’re closer to passing out. 

No one has room for dessert. The silence isn’t uncomfortable as it is… peaceful. Jungkook vaguely hints to the fact he made brownies and bought ice cream, but he doesn't even sound excited to bring them. Hell, he doesn’t even sound excited about getting up his chair. 

“I’m so happy you guys liked it…” Namjoon smiles, eyeing all of their blissed but lazy expressions. 

“‘Like it’ sounds like an understatement.”  Taehyung only lifts his hands off his stomach to do the air quotes before they fall back down. Namjoon tries not to stare. Especially not the way Taehyung’s big hands rub gently at his stomach. He hates himself for trying to spot if there's a bloat at all. There must be, even if the oversized clothes hide it. 

“I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good.” Yoongi comments while whipping his lips. 

“Maybe because you barely eat any real food at all.” Seokjin retorts, before turning to Namjoon. “He has a point though, Joonie. It was amazing.” His voice sounds a little thick with the grease of the not avocado oil that fried all this chicken. 

“I was honestly worried my stomach wasn’t going to be able to handle it.” Hoseok says with an unapologetic look even if it earns a chorus of groans from some of the people at the table. “Yah! But I ate it and it settled in nicely!” 

“We know. It's just you say that about every food, hyung…” Jungkook says with a smile that doesn't have any malice in his voice. 

“I keep saying he should get his bowels checked.” Jimin mumbles with raised eyebrows and a matter-of-factly tone. 

“If we keep talking about it he’ll work himself up to a stomach flu.” Namjoon chuckles as he says it, and even if Hoseok agrees he is still pouting about the fact that it's true. He is just glad the conversation shifted to something other than the evident stuffed states of all his friends. 

Though it becomes evident when it's time for all of them to rise from their seats and go. Even if they stayed a whole other 40 minutes talking, Namjoon sees the way they hold onto the table to stand up, lethargic. Some even hold onto their bloat; making it impossible to ignore even through baggy clothes. They’re back to sounding a little exerted as they each greet Namjoon goodbye. Urging him to meet again soon, making him promise not to disappear again; in a way that's joking and pouty but holds some true feelings behind both parts. Namjoon is glad to swear he’ll stay in touch. Even Jungkook chiming in that he won’t let the older go too long without seeing any of them. 

It's nice. Feels warm. Their attention soothing as it spreads across his chest. 

“Tonight was a success. I’m cleaning tomorrow though.” Jungkook announces piling all the dishes by the sink, sighing tiredly. But Namjoon can’t help but think if it's actually from the time of day and not from the insane amount of food he ate. 

“That's alright, I’ll clean.” Namjoon smiles offering genuinely. Jungkook put together this whole celebration for him after all. But the youngest looks distraught, eyes widening and frowns almost instantly. 

“No.” He states simply but so stubborn it earns a deep giggle out of Namjoon who takes a step closer to Jungkook. 

“Come on, you basically took charge all night.” 

“Nooo.” His tone is less stern and a lot more whiny. “You’re the man of the hour!” Namjoon keeps walking closer to him and that's when Jungkook decides to stand his ground. Getting in the way of Namjoon’s trail to the sink. “Yah!” He shouts an amount that may not be acceptable for the time that it is. 

“Shouldn’t the man of the hour have unlimited access to his own apartment?” He knows Jungkook is trying to be serious but he missed these types of arguments so much Namjoon can’t help but cackle as he tries to move past the muscle wall of his friend. 

“No! He is forbidden from any type of chore!” He is giggly as he tries to move past Jungkook before getting easily blocked. “It's the law!”

“Says who!?” Namjoon looks down with a grin that hurts on his face and a childish sparkle in his eyes. He hasn’t gotten the chance to behave like this, he didn't even have the energy, in so long. 

“Me! I’m the law around here!” He grits as Namjoon, that's even a little bigger than Jungkook presses to him. Dropping the sneak strategy to opt for brute force to push him away. But his plan falters when, in pressing flush against Jungkook’s torso Namjoon feels the distinct taut bloat pressing against his own empty stomach. Hard and rounded out from the younger’s distinct shredded abs. 

He tries not to widen at the sensation, body feeling warm all over as he quickly separates. 

“Okay fine.” Namjoon hopes his eyes didn’t dart down to check if what he felt was actually there or just a hallucination of his. “But I’m helping tomorrow.” His voice doesn't leave any room for question.

“Deal.” Jungkook smiles, finally pleased. Draping an arm over Namjoon’s shoulders, height difference getting only slightly in the way. “Wise choice.” He says escorting Namjoon to his room. 

“I missed you…” Jungkook adds when they’re finally by the older’s door. Tone softer and smile genuine and gentle. 

It's contagious, Namjoon feels his own expression softening. “I missed you too, Kook.” There's one last tight hug, one that he feels Jungkook melt to as his one chest tightens with love. Almost warm enough to ignore the taut outline of Jungkook’s stomach against him. Scolding himself for even registering it. Namjoon just feels proud that his invention managed to make his friends happy and full. 

Though after they separate, Namjoon gets to be alone in his room. The first time in years that he isn’t stilled and awake with stress or falling asleep from exhaustion. He lets himself think about it, the feel of Jungkook’s bloated belly. The feeling of pride it sent along his body… Pride and something else, an unsettling feeling he can’t quite put the finger on. 

By the morning when he wakes up, for the first time waking up past 7 am and well into 10:30, Jungkook has already cleaned the kitchen and is coming back with groceries. Most of which consist of the line of Namjoon’s cow fused products. He is reminded once again of this feeling.

Chapter Text

“Is that…?” Namjoon starts rubbing his face a little sleepily. He hasn’t rested that well in he doesn’t know how long. So he is still figuring out what's hiding in the armful of reusable bags Jungkook carries into their apartment. 

“I decided to change the macros of my diet!” 

“Inside voice, and English." He mumbles without malice as Jungkook begins unloading what he now sees is the line of cow-enhanced products Namjoon made. Distinct warmth spreading across his body. Of course he didn’t doubt the genuinity of his friends’ reactions to the food last night. But that doesn’t mean it would become a product they’d start to regularly buy. 

“My meal plan.” He explains with a much softer tone, looking with a face that screams his self restraint; ever the morning person. “I will change it so I start eating more protein.” No one should look so cutely excited talking about diets. But Namjoon feels endeared anyways. 

“Ah, I’m glad Kook-ah…I think.” He chuckles, despite being a food engineer he’s never really caught up with those trends in diet culture. It's obvious in his tone, and by Jungkook’s fond roll of eyes if looks like he is endeared by the older too. 

“I don’t know if you heard. But this new brand of meat came out, with all these nutritious enhancements.” Jungkook’s eager smile turns sarcastic as he explains to Namjoon, he’d be offended if he didn’t look so cute while sassying him. “It's the perfect time for a bulk.” 

Now that's a term Namjoon recognizes. It's not his first rodeo in one of Jungkook’s bulking seasons. The gym rat of his roommate has tried all sorts of diets to ‘bulk’, though his metabolism always gets him back to this lean chiseled body. Giving up after failing to gain a single pound of anything really, no muscle or no fat he can turn into muscle. 

He might also know the term from some other place. But it's something Namjoon chooses to ignore in every one of Jungkook’s bulking seasons. 

“You think my brand will do the trick?” He asks with an equally ironic smile. “Finally?” Namjoon considers it a win when Jungkook’s smug expression completely drops.

“That was foul, hyung.” He tries to deadpan seriously, but his bottom lip is already pushing out in a pout. He is such a brat. It's partially Namjoon’s fault, he admits. He just can’t resist Jungkook, especially when he is giving him that look.

His hand brushes the youngest’s back. “I’ll unpack. Since you didn’t let me clean up.” Namjoon says with an accusing tone that holds no bite to it. “Like we agreed to.” 

“My only oath is to the Namjoon-celebration ceremony.” He smiles unapologetically, but luckily he does let the older take charge as he begins to unpack everything. He had been so busy with work he knew for a fact Jungkook had to take care of most of the chores. Yes, he’d agree to contribute more to bills and expenses, but that doesn’t make Namjoon less of a shitty roommate. When Jungkook moved in with him, he had reassured Namjoon that he would be a great roommate; and yes, the overall hygiene of this place significantly improved since Jungkook’s arrival. But Namjoon didn’t want it to be something to be used against the younger. 

It looks like he brought every item that had Namjoon’s brand’s name on it. Everything from the cuts of other animals with the cow DNA fused into it. To the beef that had been genetically enhanced on its own. The eggs and dairy products as well too; Namjoon will have to try those. 

This is nothing different than the beginning of most of Jungkook’s dietary plans, where he buys everything for one thing with the (usually successful) plans of sticking to it as much as he can. But for some reason seeing that his roommate’s diet will consist mostly of Namjoon’s creations makes a sense of giddiness spread across his chest. He is willing to call it pride, Jungkook’s enthusiasm feeding his ego. 

He is gently being shoved aside as Jungkook reaches for the eggs Namjoon had just put into the fridge. The older frowns a little puzzledly. “You didn’t have breakfast yet?” He looks up to the clock on the wall. “Jungkook, how long have you been up?” His tone isn’t as scolding as it is plain worried. 

“I wanted to have a breakfast that matches my new meal plan!” He explains pulling the eggs and the bacon (all with Namjoon’s brand on it) out of the fridge. 

“You better not be trying intermittent fasting along with the bulk.” Namjoon says sternly but Jungkook smiles. 

“That would defeat the entire purpose of a bulk, hyung.” Jungkook’s tone is gentle as if he were talking to a child. “And even if it didn’t, I could never. I don’t even know how Hoseok does it.” He snorts, moving everything to the counter. “Bacon and eggs, hyung?” 

“Just eggs.” Namjoon says idly, pulling out some bread and cream cheese (Jungkook really bought everything he saw that had the ‘cow enhancement’ label on it). They work around each other easily, Namjoon has his back to the younger but he hears the sizzling of bacon and the whipping of the eggs before they get thrown in  a separate pan as well. 

They barely got to exist together like this. Namjoon relishes in the comfortable silence before he is walking to the table, two coffees and two toast; giddy at the domesticity he didn’t realize he missed. Namjoon had been worried about his return to everyday life being too abrupt or uncomfy. But it feels like everything is the exact same as he left it when he began investing himself in this project. 

Or at least it feels that way until he sees Jungkook sit in front of him at the table. 

He’s lived through many of Jungkook’s failed attempts to bulk, yes. But the way his plate is filled looks closer to the type of bulking Namjoon has looked up for himself . It's never been this much food. Even if Jungkook planned on splitting the eggs between the two of them, nothing excuses that pile of bacon. 

“Oh wow.” He can’t help but chuckle at the sight as he begins to serve some of the eggs onto his toast. “I forgot how serious you are about your diets.” But none of Jungkook’s past meal plans had heat coiling at Namjoon’s navel in excitement like this bulk. 

“It's especially easy to be excited when the food I’m eating tastes this good.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows teasingly with a mouthful of bacon and eggs already pushing past his lips. Earning a groan out of Namjoon. 

“Is this how all our conversations are going to go now?” The annoyance in his voice is only superficial, staring amused at Jungkook that shovels all his eggs and bacon onto the toast to take a bite big enough to spill from the sides of the poor bread slice. “A constant plug of my brand?” 

“You’re lucky to have such a supportive friend, hyung.” His cocky look is contrasted by the sound of his voice, muffled by the food he is chewing on. 

“Unlucky to have a roommate with the same manners of a pig.” Namjoon retorts with a smile. Sassiness coming through in self defense to the sound of the younger’s quick ravenous chewing. 

“That just means I’m enjoying it.” He deadpans. Namjoon considers it a win when Jungkook’s pout comes through, frown losing its power of intimidation with his bottom lip pushed out. Cheeks momentarily still stretched with food before he swallows. 

Namjoon takes pity on him. “I know, Jungkook-ah.” A deeply sweet reassurance he only reserves for Jungkook’s puppy eyes shows in his voice. “Don’t let hyung stop you.” He picks up his plate, after having a normal sized breakfast but still somehow leaving an obscene amount in the plates. Jungkook is usually good at guessing portion sizes. 

He guesses his roommate hasn’t had to cook for two people in a while. 

Though that guess falters a little when after cleaning his plate Namjoon turns to a Jungkook that's absolutely scarfing down the rest of the eggs and bacon. Looking so entranced and starved Namjoon doesn’t even dare move from the kitchen; not wanting to intervene and possibly stop Jungkook from… enjoying his breakfast. 

It's his ego, it's definitely his ego making warmth spread across his body. Eyes glued to Jungkook’s eager and messy hands that use the toast to scoop up as much of everything as he can. Messy but completely uncaring. Namjoon doesn't even think Jungkook is hungry at all, small hums of pleasure leaving his sealed lips. 

As if he had been holding back this whole time Namjoon was there. Which, he didn’t even think was possible after his starved eating when the older was there. Now downright gobbling down the food with cheeks stretched from the mouthfuls he pushed past his lips. Quick and eager with a rhythm that matched someone in an eating contest (Not that Namjoon had any business watching those…). 

He should start to look away, it was easy to contain himself last night. But now that the excitement of the surprise party, or the shock of the first try of his food, he can't help but see this for what it really is…. uncontrollable gluttony. 

Not the bulk, not hunger, but the enhanced taste of Namjoon’s invention. 

By the record time in which Jungkook does finish the food, leaving the plates as clean as Namjoon remembers them being yesterday, the older really doesn't have an excuse to be looking anymore. Quickly turns back to the sink as if he was still cleaning his single plate and mug. Eyes shut close as his hands run through the cold water, in a desperate attempt to cleanse the image of a gorging Jungkook that imprinted in his brain. 

Though it's especially hard when there is an unfiltered burp that erupts from behind him followed by a whine. “Hyunggg” And oh if that's the absolute opposite Namjoon needed to hear right now. “Can you clean mine too?” If turns to look at the sight, it might be over for him. 

“Sure, just bring it over.” He comments as idly as he can master. Now really having to play pretend to clean the plate and mug. The sound of running water is not enough to hide the loud groan of Jungkook standing up, and the soft pause he takes before his steps bring the plates and mug over to Namjoon. But by then, the sound of his faint but deep breaths is too close to ignore. 

“Thank you, hyung.” He sighs, a little too dramatically for someone who offered to clean three more things. It makes Namjoon smile before he feels Jungkook wrap his arms around the older’s middle in a back hug. Nothing uncommon between the two, except for the tight pressing of Jungkook’s bloat against the small of Namjoon’s back. Taut and round in contrast to the rest of his roommate’s usually shredded torso. 

Namjoon’s jaw is tight as he cleans the already spotless dishes. He manages to push out a soft chuckle anyways. “Kook, it's really nothing.” 

“Oh I know. I’m just enjoying not being alone first thing in the morning.” He teases lovingly and Namjoon feels guilty that he isn't genuinely enjoying his first free morning, genuinely. Instead too entranced by the warmth coming from Jungkook's middle. 

“You know most people would be glad to have someone pay their part of the rent but have the whole apartment to yourself.” Namjoon smiles as he says it, the guilt of disappearing for so long easy to joke about. Especially after he got to experience, extremely closely, the way his endless efforts made Jungkook this…. fulfilled. 

He feels full against Namjoon’s back for sure. 

“Well, I’m sorry for loving you.” His pouty tone is jokingly exaggerated and Namjoon’s torso shakes with giggles. “I’ll make sure to never talk to you ever again.” 

“Oh yeah?” He closes the tap and turns around, smile growing on his face as he looks down at a pouting Jungkook. Blushing that the bloat is pressed to his front now. “Am I gonna get the silent treatment?” 

The younger only eyes him a bit before turning his nose to the side, chin up and closed eyes. “What do you think?” He says ironically. 

“I think you’re still talking to me.” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, smile only growing at the way Jungkook blushes pushing himself away. This time only huffing without speaking another way. 

“I love you too, by the way!” Namjoon yells out through his chuckles hearing his roommate’s angry stomps into his room. 

….

“I know!” Jungkook mumbles, though loud enough for Namjoon to hear from the kitchen. Leaving him with a warm cozy feeling. He’s glad to be back. 

His first free day he had managed to sleep past his usual. But it seems his year long habits die hard as he eyes the 7 am mark on his phone. 

Either that, or the sound of the blender going off in the kitchen. 

It's a slow pace till he nears the source of noise. He is sure their neighbors are also wondering who’s making all this uproar this early, on a Saturday no less. Jungkook has his back to him, cutting something on the counter before he pours it into the blender just for it to start again. 

“Hey.” Namjoon greets but it's far too quiet. Only repeating himself louder. “Jungkook-ah…” It's only when he taps the younger’s shoulder that he turns over his shoulder. Grin immediately grew on his face. 

“Oh! Hyung hi!” The blender is still going on, thus his roommate’s loud bright tone. That and maybe Jungkook’s inexplicable ability to be a morning person, by free will. He turns it off, a brown mixture thick in the blender. Namjoon hadn’t realized how much he missed the silence. Too in awe of Jungkook’s genuine bright smile. 

“What are you cooking this early?” He lets his hand stay at Jungkook’s shoulder, rubbing slowly as he stays by the younger’s side. 

“Just my pre-workout.” Ah, he guesses he should’ve seen it, judging by the empty carton of Namjoon’s enhanced milk, Jungkook’s preferred cocoa flavored protein powder and a banana peel on the counter. “Did I wake you?” He turns to Namjoon, guilty look on his eyes, plumper bottom lip bitten under those bunny-like teeth, tip of his nose close to Namjoon’s. 

He can’t bring himself to be honest. “No, no, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon chuckles, rubbing the expanse of Jungkook’s broad back. “Want some breakfast with your shake?” The offer isn’t loaded with intention, rather politeness as Namjoon begins to grab the ingredients for his own breakfast. 

“Technically, this should have enough calories for a full workout…” His lips purse cutely. Grabbing the jar of powder to look at the nutritional facts. “But I am bulking…” He comments, looking up at Namjoon. Round eyes staring at Namjoon with something he doesn’t want to decipher. A hint of awareness, as if dueling with a craving Jungkook knows he shouldn't indulge.

Namjoon is probably reading too much into it. At least he tells himself that so this weird tugging at his chest goes away. Instead giving Jungkook's back one last pat before declaring. "I'll make us some breakfast."

“Make sure it has some protein, hyung.” He grins even wider when he seems to get an eyeroll out of Namjoon. Giggling as he takes his tall glass of protein shake to the table. 

“I can barely cook as is, don’t get picky.” Namjoon eyes the younger with a playful threat in his voice. But he is already grabbing the things he knows Jungkook would love. 

And maybe… some things he would love Jungkook to have. 

Though it seems Jungkook finished the bacon they had yesterday during the day (or maybe he finished it all in that one sitting). So he’ll have to improvise, though it does seem Jungkook put some of the leftover chicken, the one they made for his surprise party, frozen. He is certainly not capable enough to fry it. But he is sure he can make something protean for his bulking roommate. 

Namjoon is certain he didn’t take long, but Jungkook’s tall glass is still nearly empty of the thick milkshake it had inside. “Oh wow.” He can’t help but comment. “Will you even have room for this?” The plate he sets down has two chicken omelets, courtesy of the Enhanced eggs, butter and chicken of Namjoon’s brand Jungkook bought. It's cute he really aimed to try every single one of his products when they launched, Namjoon doubts they’ll become regular household products; but he still appreciates Jungkook’s enthusiasm. 

“I’ll have to make some.” The thickness in Jungkook’s voice affects Namjoon more than he is willing to admit. “You never cook for me!” It sticks to him even as he beams, grinning up at the older and eagerly grabbing the chopsticks. “It even smells good.” This time, the teasing in his voice is louder than the thickness of the shake clinging to his voice. 

Namjoon’s warm expression drops. “I want my omelets back.” He deadpans sitting beside the younger. Heart warming at the giggles that break through. 

“Thank you hyung, love you.” The shit eating grin is somehow sweet and bright. But Namjoon thinks that even if it wasn’t he’d cave in anyway. By the time the smile finishes growing on his face, and he starts opening up his mouth to reply, Jungkook is already gobbling down the food. 

He can't help his perplexed stare, eyes following the trail of the mouthful JUngkook’s chopsticks pick up and the fast trip they make to be shoved past his lips. Namjoon isn’t sure if he is even taking time to chew at all. It lasts only for a second before he schools his stare away from his roommate, smiling a little tighter on his face as he sighs. 

“You’re so easy to win over.” Namjoon says instead. Eyes finding solace into his coffee instead of the man gorging away next to him. He is so loud too. Namjoon takes a long “relaxed” sip. 

Jungkook gasps. “Take that back.” Even if his head snaps accusingly to turn to Namjoon, it's not that impactful with the way his cheeks are stretched cutely with food. “I’m not easy!” 

“Anyone willing to eat food that I made, is at least desperate.” He eyes the younger looking down at Jungkook’s plate (already close to half empty) and accusingly back at his eyes. Maybe he imagines it, but he swears Jungkook’s cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. 

“Don’t let it get to your head.” He rolls his eyes, quickly smiling once he swallows the mouthful. “It’s just for the bulk.” Namjoon lets himself smile.

“I don't know… You’re eating says otherwise.” Convincing himself to make his grin cocky enough to not look teasing. “You can just tell me it's good.” 

“Never.” Jungkook grins brightly with stretched cheeks, his actions telling of how much he is enjoying it; warmth seeping through like an open book. He is so easy to read. 

“Eat up, brat.” The nickname has the loving tone it’s always had when they bicker. Though it never came out of Namjoon’s lips while the younger was displaying such gluttony. Honestly, even if he is sure he cooked it differently than the fried chicken they had last night, it smells quite the same. 

Unappealing to Namjoon but apparently absolutely maddening to Jungkook. His eating only becomes more hurried, more famished once they both drop the conversation. Not bound to having to focus on what Namjoon says and letting himself get completely absorbed by the flavor of the food. Joking confidence and all… Namjoon is 100% certain his cooking doesn’t deserve a reaction quite like this. And he is even more undeserving of feeling this particular way about said reaction. 

He finishes in record time, Namjoon making an effort to try and remember Jungkook’s always been a particularly fast eater. But it doesn’t make the sight less impactful. He drops the chopsticks on the plate and leans back; he doesn't have to look to know Jungkook must be bloated. Hell, he’s probably been bloated ever since he finished that shake. 

Eyes closed and a cute little frown,  as soft deep breaths slip out his ajar lips. Namjoon does look down to follow the trail of Jungkook’s tattooed hand to settle on the center of his stomach Evidently rounded out against the tanktop, taut looking with the gentle rubbing of his hand. Namjoon can’t even imagine working out after a breakfast like that… By the puzzled look on Jungkook’s face, it seems like he is wondering the exact same thing. 

There's a shift in the air now that there isn’t food there to keep them both distracted. Namjoon feels the bubbling shame at the pit of his stomach, the feeling that Jungkook in this state was something he wasn’t supposed to see. Maybe it's the slight pink on his cheeks or the slowed down pace of his deep breaths, or the look in his face… Looking down at himself as if he never even intended to eat this much that fast, as if he had completely lost control of himself…

Namjoon surprises himself when he talks, joking tone a dangerous choice in the tense air of their kitchen. “So… Did it have enough protein for you?” It shouldn’t feel as bold as it does, but they’d never found themselves in a situation like this. Though… he wonders if Jungkook is lucid enough to notice that shift.

To notice anything beside the slow rhythmic circles he is rubbing on his bloat. 

He smiles, looking up at Namjoon. It looks so genuine it convinces Namjoon that no, Jungkook doesn’t feel anything at all. I mean… He feels the bloat for sure, just not the shift in atmosphere.

Guess Namjoon is just a pervert. 

Now he feels bad for the bright bunny grin Jungkook is directing to him. “It was perfect, hyung.” He looks so happy, Namjoon is a monster. “I'm gonna have such a great workout now!” His hands slam on the table as he stands up with a grunt. “I’ll get going then. Sorry for waking you up.” Namjoon tries to look up at Jungkook with a smile that's somehow able to hide the way the younger’s bloat right in his face is affecting him 

“Don’t worry about it. My sleeping schedule is still a little fucked.” He chuckles, rubbing up and down Jungkook’s arm. “Have fun! I can clean up. You got us groceries.” 

“You’re the best, hyung,” Namjoon pretends not to hear the slight exertion to Jungkook’s voice. He can’t be out of breath, not from his doing. Luckily, Namjoon doesn’t get to dwell on it, since his roommate is grabbing his gym bag, putting on his sneakers and rushing out. 

He feels himself calm down once he got to cleaning all the dishes. It's probably all the social distancing he did because of work that turned Namjoon into such a perverted freak. Sometimes the only other people he’d get to talk to being porn videos he’d be half awake to jerk off too. No wonder he is reacting like this around Jungkook. 

It's just a matter of re-socializing himself… He hates to admit it, but it's obvious this long 2-year project took a toll on his social skills. Making him a depraved horny mess, mistaking everything for one of those tacky porn premises. Hyperfixating on Jungkook’s eating pace or if he is bloating or not. If his roommate noticed, he was polite enough not to find him repulsive. 

It's alright, though. Namjoon is going to get himself back on track to being a completely normal, only slightly awkward, guy he was before. 

As long as Jungkook’s bulk goes as planned.

Chapter Text

Namjoon forgot what going out felt like. Though he’s realized he kind of missed it, standing in front of the crowded food truck.Not that he didn’t enjoy Jungkook’s company, but their constant meal sharing… He needed some change of setting. A break from Jungkook’s bulking, his whines after being stuffed and the stolen glances at the rounded curve of his distended stomach. 

 He has been here before, when Seokjin first opened it, of course. Not that it looked like the small startup it was when Namjoon last visited. People crowded at the front as the poor employees took orders and gave out tickets. He knew better than to try to find Seokjin here, the head-chef was far too busy to be taking orders. 

He walked around the truck with certain awe in his eyes. Not that he ever doubted Seokjin, he was there through the entire preparation of his first own project, hearing endlessly about it. But he can’t help the giddy pride as if he was seeing it for the first time. Walking around it to the side door the older had told Namjoon to wait by. It was a monday, there shouldn’t have been this many people. 

Call it his ego, but he can’t help but think it might have something to do with the big “Now partnered with Enhanced™!” sign hanging at the very front of the truck. After all, this was the reason Seokjin invited him to come, Namjoon had gotten him the contact of a distributor. 

Seokjin calls it a favor, Namjoon is just touched that the chef wants to incorporate his products into his restaurant. It takes a couple of light-speed intense cooking before the crowd begins to dissipate into the arranged tables scattered around. The wait is worth it when he sees Seokjin come out the door, all in black with his tight apron, light sweat making his skin glisten and a tired but wide smile on his face.

“It's my favorite meat distributor!” He beams, taking off the black latex gloves off his hands as he makes his way down to Namjoon. Not letting the younger respond before enveloping him in a hug. 

“Not your meat distributor, I just gave you a phone number, hyung.” He rolls his eyes through his smile, quickly hugging back. Noodle-y when it comes from Seokjin, but somehow warm nonetheless. 

“Well I don’t care, thanks to you I sold almost my entire stock tonight!” His voice gets higher and louder, the way it does when he is excited. He separates from the hug only to reach for the pocket in his apron and pull out two burgers wrapped in foil. “And I say almost because I saved two for us!” 

“That's not good for business.” He teases but can’t help cup Seokjin’s cheek lovingly. 

“Joon, Joon-ah. I literally do not care. I haven’t served this many people since I worked at a chain!” His arms wrap back around Namjoon to attempt to pick him up and spin him. Or that’s what the younger guesses form the grunt and the way pathetic inches Namjoon is lifted off the ground. 

“Cute.” He says with an adoring smile once he is set down. Admiring the way Seokjin’s cheeks seem even redder than when he left the furnace of his small truck kitchen. “What did you bring?”

“Double bacon cheeseburgers, pickled onion and my spicy mustard sauce.” He shows the two wrapped meals with a cocky smile. “I got you the seitan version, no bacon either.” He looks even prouder of that statement. And to be fair, Namjoon is really touched. 

“I’ve been so tired of trying my own food.” He pouts taking the wrapped burger Seokjin offers him. “Just because I made it, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” The older takes out two foldable chairs. 

“Well, in defense of everyone else, the rest of us mortals think they’re delicious.” He presents Namjoon with his seat with a royal-like bow. It earns a scoff but it still manages to make the younger blush as he takes a seat. 

“Means a lot coming from my favorite chef.” Namjoon can throw roses back too. Grinning knowingly at the burn of the older’s ears turning distinct red. A success. 

“It’s been really fun playing with all the new flavors you literally created.” And when Seokjin’s complement comes back without a joking tone, but a sincere smile. Namjoon considers himself defeated. “Try it.” 

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He’s always adored Seokjin’s cooking, ever since the older took pity on his poor neighbor and the smell of burnt noodles came from Namjoon’s apartment right in front of his. But every time still feels like the first, especially when he is trying a new recipe. Especially when said recipe feels like it was prepared with him and only him in mind. He is moaning around the mouthful of burger, and he can feel Seokjin’s eyes on him; silent but pleased with the younger’s reaction. 

“I feel watched, hyung. You should eat too.” He whines a little bit. 

“I wanna know what you think!” Seokjin argues back but he is already unwrapping the tin foil off his burger. 

“I loved it, now eat!” Namjoon is tugging at the older’s arm now. “You’re the one that just finished a 6 hour shift.” Luckily, he seems to finally comply, taking a bite of his own creation. 

Maybe it wasn’t so lucky, Namjoon thinks to himself as he stares at Seokjin’s reaction. The moan completely unashamed, despite them still being somewhat in public; just behind the truck, and only a few meters away from where many customers must still be eating their meal. Face scrunching up and eyes rolling back into what seems an orgasmic expression. Softly shaking his head he barely waits till he is swallowed down to take another gigantic bite, one that stretches his cheeks to the point that it should be ridiculous. 

The problem would seem to be that Namjoon’s body isn’t reacting as if it were ridiculous at all. His own biting of the seitan burger slowed down and on autopilot. Much busier with the sight of Seokjin, someone who eats amazing delicious food on the daily basis, relish something he made out of Namjoon’s products. It's ironic that  just a few seconds ago it was him whining about feeling observed; yet now he can’t look away. 

Unlike Jungkook, Seokjin had always been well mannered around food. Spending a lot of time in fancy restaurants, looking for new inspirations. But this… He looked completely famished, he probably was; Namjoon wouldn’t blame him after working all night. But it still feels so unlike the older to act this way around food. Always able to stay objective and collected, looking for things to improve on himself. 

He doesn’t look in control, he doesn’t look like even the slightest bit of his mind is reserved to thinking about critiquing his own work. There’s a fleeting voice in the back of Namjoon’s head telling him he is only staring because it's meaningful that a man with this much knowledge of food was enjoying his creations, and considered them worthy enough to use for his cooking. Yeah… it's probably that.

Seokjin is done before Namjoon can doubt his intentions any further. 

“I think I’m going to get some more, do you want anything else?” He is already standing up. 

“I thought these were the last two left?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, trying to keep his eyes on Seokjin’s face. And not the way the knot of his apron is tight enough to show the bloat that would otherwise be covered under his baggy shirt. 

“They were, but I’m sure I can come up with something for dessert.” The joking wink he throws the younger’s way shouldn't affect him the way he does. But then again, Namjoon can’t seem to catch a break, even outside the apartment. Seokjin quickly comes back with two ice cream tubs; Namjoon’s enhanced protein brand, of course. 

“Ah, Jungkook uses these for his milkshakes…” He comments, smiling only enough to hide the war flashback that those ice creams (and more specifically, those milkshakes) bring. 

“I haven’t tried them yet! People bought most of them so I hope you like…” He checks both the tubs. “Mint chocolate or… mint chocolate!” He grins at Namjoon in a way that could make the younger excuse anything…almost. 

“We can just stop by an ice cream shop.” Namjoon deadpans. 

“I actually don’t mind mint chocolate, you know?” Seokjin shrugs as he hands Namjoon what is actually the only acceptable flavor out of the two, and sitting back besides him. 

“Eugh, I can’t believe they made that flavor under MY name!” He whines beginning to eat. Namjoon’s enhanced dairy makes everything feel thicker and sweeter, as if it had been done with heavy cream. “I never would’ve approved of it.” 

“Don’t the people who enjoy it deserve to try some of your products?” Seokjin coos opening the tub. “Besides, it's good for business… probably.” He snorts, finally beginning to eat. And much like the burger, it's that first bite that seems to make the older descend into something hungrier. Like he wasn’t stuffed at all, despite his distending stomach saying otherwise. 

“I don’t care about business! I'm as much a food artist as you.” He shrugs. “Maybe that's why it hurts me to see you like this.” Namjoon has to make sure to scrunch his nose even a little at the sight of Seokjin’s top lip tinted green. Stopped in the middle of his famished eating to look at Namjoon like he had gotten caught. 

“Part of being a ‘food artist’ is being open to new flavors.” Seokjin eyes him, but it's hard to feel critiqued when the older’s messy lips and incessant eating are proof that Namjoon nailed a flavor he doesn’t even like. 

“I did a good job anyways, didn’t I?” Namjoon smiles. And if his eyes darted to Seokjin’s lips a little bit more shamelessly, it's entirely just to admire his handiwork. 

Not that that sounds any better than what he was actually doing. 

Seokjin wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Oh, you did an excellent job.” Namjoon was so transfixed on the older’s lips he is surprised when Seokjin discards the empty tub already in the bin. Namjoon hadn’t noticed he finished. “If these weren’t the last two I would’ve gotten another one.” 

“I’m not surprised mint chocolate was left over.” He retorts, trying to ignore Seokjin’s claim to still have room. But his eyes travel down anyways, to where his apron is tied around his hips. Making a perfect accent to the bloat that pushes out, only making it seem bigger. “Aren’t you full?” 

“I am. But it's just that good.” Seokjin says with genuine awe before he rolls his eyes; probably at Namjoon’s smug expression. He can’t help the way the chef’s praise sends warmth to spread across his torso in pride. 

Pride or whatever reaction his body has to the sight of Seokjin's hand reaching for his bloated belly. “Whatever, I don't want to keep boosting your ego.” 

“Ah… It’s already too late, hyung.” The chuckle tied to the end of his sentence comes out a lot giddier than he intended. But he can’t feel self-conscious about it, when Seokjin has a similar endeared smile despite his rolled eyes. “I’m really glad you like it.” The warmth of his voice doesn’t falter as he sees Seokjin pick up the other mint chocolate tub and coaxes it open. Namjoon catches sight of the poor mint chocolate that looked closer to melted goop than actual ice cream. 

“I don’t know why you were so nervous to begin with, it was a huge success, Joon-ah.” A big but bony hand slaps against the center of Namjoon’s back to rub slowly there, in a similar pace to what the same big but bony hand is bringing the tub of melted ice cream up to his lips. The hand on his back bringing him closer to the older in a way that gives him a perfect angle to look down and ogle, without feeling exposed. Stretched over the poor black apron in a curve that looks ridiculous against Seokjin’s slim body. 

It's a bit more maddening when he catches sight of the bloat beginning to expand. 

With each slow gulp of thick ice cream it pushes further against the robust fabric of the apron. Seokjin’s long neck bobbing with each slow gulp. His manners disappearing as a single mint green stream makes its way down his plump bottom lip, chin and neck; before it sinks underneath the collar of his shirt. 

Namjoon wonders if it will travel down the curve of his bloat as well. 

“I’m especially glad that you like it.” He wants it to sound a bit exasperated, but when Namjoon looks back up (forcing himself to), he is sure it's with enough admiration to make his efforts futile. “Being an actual chef and all.” 

“Aww. You’re a ‘food artist’ too, remember?” His voice is thick with the dairy clinging to his throat, but the endearment is evident in his tone and also in the way he brings Namjoon for a hug, he has to hold a noise in when his torso presses to the side of the older’s bloat. Seokjin’s smile too big for Namjoon to know if he is teasing or if he actually means it. It's only seconds before Namjoon separates that Seokjin is back to chugging down the melted ice cream. 

“I can barely cook for myself without turning the fire alarm on. I’m an overpaid chemist!” 

“What's chemistry if not cooking for nerds!?” It's Seokjin’s turn to sound exasperated, or that's what Namjoon guesses he is trying to do. Because it just sounds cutely whiny, once he isn’t speaking into the plastic tub it proves that point even more, since it reveals the sight of Seokjin’s pout. 

And it affects Namjoon more than he is willing to admit, judging by the smile that grows on the younger’s face and the gentle tone of his voice. “Hyung, just take the compliment.” 

He only really responds once he pulls his face out of the tub, presumably empty form the way he easily discards it with the other. A ring of ice cream tainting all around his lips. Even if he licks them, a habit Namjoon has always struggled averting his eyes from, there remains around the corners of his lips and some of his cheeks remain. 

“Fine, fine. Thank you.” He smiles kindly, and Namjoon can’t help but feel guilty over the way his eyes obviously keep looking down. Even more so when Seokjin is quick to notice. “What…?”

“You have some…” Namjoon doesn’t dare to finish the sentence. Finger gesturing to his own cheeks and chin. The older widens a bit quickly brushing himself off, hopefully in time before it dries and sticks. He chuckles through it, but Namjon can't brush off the twinge of embarrassment that clings to Seokjin’s expression. 

“Pft, I’m lucky I sat us behind the truck.” He makes an effort to rub his face clean and sit up a bit straight, though exhaling a bit from the disturbance that causes to his bloat. “I lost my manners for a bit there.” 

Namjoon can only agree. “I think it's the first time I saw you eat messily.” And it wasn’t even just the ice cream, though he rather keep that information to himself. 

“A food artist’ gotta enjoy his art!” Seokjin grins but there's a bit of defensiveness there; when is there not? 

“You didn’t make this!” The younger giggles- “It was made in a factory and left behind by customers who know better than to eat toothpaste ice cream!” 

“If you’re fishing for more compliments, you can just ask, Namjoonie.” He pats his shoulder leaning a bit closer to the younger, giving him the chance to catch the slight breathlessness of his voice. 

“I’m fine on those, but… can I get a ride home?” Namjoon turns his sight up to Seokjin’s face, more comfortable in the closeness of their noses than the bulging stretch of his stomach. But the older quickly pushes away scoffing. 

“Oh I see how it is.” He scrunches his face, nodding, looking at Namjoon with what he recognizes is fake disdain. “I’m just an accommodation!” He spanks at Namjoon’s shoulder, but it's hardly effective, not with Namjoon’s loud giggling.

“Drama queen! We are literal neighbors!” The younger whines loud enough while trying to protect himself, he is sure some customers turn their head to them. 

“When will you get your license and drive me for a change!? Then you’ll see what it's like to be objectified.” He crosses his arms. 

“That's no way to talk to your meat distributor.” Namjoon purses his lips. 

“You said you weren’t my meat distributor. Can’t use that card anymore.” A wide smile spreads across his lips, entirely amused with having caught Namjoon right where he wants him. 

“No, but I’m your very dear friend, who’ll wait until you close up to go home together?” His smile widens the more he talks, loving Seokjin’s eye roll but equally fond smile.

“Fine.” 

As tough as he likes to pretend to be on Namjoon, there’s no saying no to him. 

He doesn’t mind waiting as Seokjin and his team clean up, stealing glances from where he is sitting to the open door of the food truck, where he sees Seokjin cleaning the greasy counters with one hand, while the other holds onto the bloat. And if he hears faint sounds of heavy breathing, Namjoon convinces himself he is just imagining it; all the ride home too. 

What he can’t pretend to ignore is the text he got from said meat distributor.

mr.jang: namjoonssi!! your cook friend was really nice

mr.jang: he asked for an entire stock last night! but for personal use

mr.jang: you told him that costs him extra right?

Chapter Text

So much free time, Namjoon has started to worry about his amount of screentime again! He doesn’t remember when it was the last time. Not that spending hours upon hours staring at a computer screen in his lab was any better, but grind-culture has led him to think this screentime is worse. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that he isn’t getting better at handling Jungkook’s bulk, and he is too embarrassed to go visit Seokjin at his truck again.

A good thing is he can finally stay up to day with what his friends are doing! 

Though that mostly means keeping up with Jimin. 

It's still a bit hard to believe he is friends with an influencer. Even if Jimin would never let Namjoon call him that. Claiming he’s still the same nutritionist Namjoon shared a few classes at the beginning of their major with. But he is convinced the younger is responsible for making his food line reach the opposite spectrum of the fitness people online (the other extreme side being Jungkook). All of his stories he was promoting some kind of new recipe, some keto diet nonsense that Namjoon would personally never attempt to try; he follows Jimin exclusively for the sake of being a supportive friend.

And Jimin is returning that support back, constantly hyping Namjoon up. It seems like everyday there's a photo of some new recipe he is trying. They all seem entirely healthy on paper, so Namjoon doesn't know why that embarrassing sense of warmth continues to spread to his body at the fact that one of his most health conscious friends eats his products. Must be his ego again. 

It feels like a relief when Jimin texts him. Like another good escape from all the unhealthy food craze he’s seen from Seokjin and Jungkook. 

min-ah: joonie you know how ive been posting about your food all day every day (╥_╥) 

Namjoon feels weirdly exposed. Not that there was anything shameful in watching Jimin’s content… more like the feelings he had surrounding it.

min-ah: i started getting really specific questions about fans that i am definitely not qualified to answer 

min-ah: i was thinking you could do a q&a at my place! (´꒳`)♡

As if reading Namjoon’s mind, and the way his stomach sinks Jimin adds:

min-ah: you dont have to appear on camera or speak! i can do all that but i need that juicy voluptuous brain of yours

you : please never refer to any of my organs like that again

min-ah: so thats a yes? (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

So that's Namjoon’s main point of being here, in Jimin’s very aesthetically (jealousy worthy) decorated apartment. He remembers bits and pieces of his inhabitable dorm in their first year of college, and it feels surreal that the same man now lives in a place that looks like something out of a designer’s pinterest board. In between staring at every fancy lamp he comes across, and Jimin’s excited talking in the kitchen, Namjoon has to remind himself they’re here for “work”. Or well… this is the closest thing to work Namjoon has had in the last week or so. 

Jimin is making them some lemon and garlic chicken pasta. He hasn’t called it a “cheat day” per se, but he is implying to Namjoon that this is definitely a treat for the fitness guru. Especially with how excited he is about the near future of eating it. 

“You know, when you guys start making a ‘light’ version of this cream cheese it's over for me.” Jimin chuckles, pouring a considerable amount of the pack into the pot with the cooked pasta and cut chicken. It smells heavenly, maybe Namjoon shouldn’t judge fitness influencer meals… But then again, Jimin did say this was sort of a treat for him. 

“You don’t use it when you’re not in cheat days?” He asks. Jimin probably doesn’t, judging by the new pack he opened just for tonight.

“Oh I do.” The younger giggles. “But I’ll feel less guilty about it with the light version.” That earns a chuckle out of Namjoon. 

“Eating cream cheese every now and then isn’t going to make you unhealthy.” Of course Namjoon believes that statement. But still… it makes him wonder how many tubs Jimin ate, since he is opening a new one now… 

“That’s what you’ll have to answer when we start recording.” Jimin turns off the stove, dedicating to mixing the creamy sauce with everything else. “My followers started asking me all the time if this is actually healthy or not.” Jimin pouts sitting down, he serves them a cup of wine each too. “I’m just trying to be a supportive friend!” He whines giving Namjoon puppy eyes he never learnt how to resist.  

“You or your fans don't have anything to worry about, Min-ah.” He reassures amused, taking the plate and wine. “How were you thinking of doing this?”

“I was thinking of a live…But we can do something different if you want to stay anonymous!” Jimin’s worried little frown and pouted lips does nothing to calm down Namjoon’s need to indulge the younger. 

Which is how he finds himself agreeing, and convinces himself it's worth it with Jimin’s excited squeal as he reaches for his camera and sets the lights up. Record time before Jimin is back with their heated up plates ready to start. 

“Lets answer some questions, hm?” 

“Don't influencers let people know a couple of hours before the livestream?” He chuckles endeared at Jimin’s excitement. Who only turns with a smug expression. 

“I don’t need to do that.” The cockiness is palpable in his voice, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ready?” Seeing him so confident, makes Namjoon’s stomach do a little flip. He nods quickly, feeling the thrill of excitement. He doesn’t think he’s ever been on camera in front of so many people before. 

“Ready.”  He nods as Jimin starts the live. 

Even if he wouldn't consider Jimin two faced, there's definitely a shift from when the camera turns on. He is polished and bright when the camera is off too, but this persona is more reserved. It doesn’t feel cold by any means but Jimin always made a hard effort to keep some part of his life to himself and not share it. Namjoon personally thinks he did so successfully. He followed Jimin closely on social media when he didn't have time to meet him, and learnt virtually nothing about how his friend is doing. His thoughts are interrupted when Jimin's small talk gets a little more determined. 

“Well there’s probably enough people already! Hi everyone! I’ve listened to your questions and I thought I’d bring with you a special guest!” Even if it's filtered for the camera, Namjoon still feels a particular sort of warmth from the smile Jimin offers him. “This is Namjoon, an old friend of mine, he’s worked on the project of the Enhanced food products and he definitely” He pats the older’s biceps, playfully squeezing a bit. “is more qualified to answer all of you guys’ questions.” 

Namjoon nods, smiling happily. “Happy to be here, so ask away.”

“I’ll be reading the questions and you’ll answer.” Jimin brings a tablet to read from, scrolling through the comments. “Oh! And you can read the recipe of the pasta we are going to be eating in the pinned comment!” He adds beaming. “It smells delicious.” Jimin eyes the plate with yearning before staring at the tablet. 

Namjoon takes the liberty of starting to eat, and Jimin was right. It's absolutely delicious; the cheese and cream aren’t really strong enough to cover the taste of chicken... He tries to appreciate it while Jimin continues to talk. But his eating is slow and uninterested. 

“Ok so first question, and I think this is the most common one, does the enhancement add calories?” He is polite enough to look at Namjoon after asking, but he is quick to dig in, probably having resisted all this introduction to do so. Not just taking one bite but rather continuously eating mouthfuls of creamy pasta, stretching his lips obscenely as Namjoon answers. 

“Not at all. But I understand why people think that could happen, because the Enhanced meals are meant to make you feel fuller with less food.” He explains, he is looking at Jimin but it doesn’t feel like the influencer is paying much attention to him. Instead Namjoon stares at Jimin as he eats urgently, half heartedly whipping his creamy lips before the next bite is filling his cheeks. 

“Right, that’s what happened to me.” It's a mindless comment Jimin throws in the attempt to make Namjoon feel listened to. But he recognizes the way Jimin is staring down at his plate, fighting for control yet succumbing to the delicious taste. And he knows enough to know, Namjoon has to look away. To not entirely humiliate himself in front of the camera. 

“What’s causing the sense of fullness is the enhanced protein added from cow genetics.” He aims his stare at the stream of comments on the laptop the camera is connected to. Staring at himself instead of the gorging star next to him. “Completely healthy, you can just treat my products the same way you’ve been treating them in your previous diet.”

He nods and for that one second of quiet all he can hear is the messy sounds of Jimin’s eating, so he decides to keep talking. Still unable to look the younger's way. “Unless you’re bulking! A friend of ours is, and our line of meats has been helping him out a lot.”

“Ah, our Jungkook-ah is working hard.” Jimin nods at Namjoon, voice muffled by food, cheeks stretched and a bit of sauce messily clinging to the corners of his lips.

“W-what's the next question?”  He smiles tightly at the younger. 

“Oh, right.” Jimin looks down to the comments. Namjoon wishes he could see if they were saying anything about Jimin’s eating. But he also guesses he is the only creep thinking about something like that. “What do you recommend to not become as bloated when eating Enhanced products?” 

Namjoon has to ponder on that one, and he decides to do it with his eyes literally anywhere else but Jimin’s face. “Ah... well, there’s nothing to be ashamed of in being bloated from a good meal!” He has to force himself to not sound overly enthusiastic about bloating. “I’d just recommend what everyone does, eating slower, or it might just be a personal food trigger too. I’m no doctor.” He chuckles and Jimin nods. 

“We are all about fitness but that doesn't mean-” He has to swallow the mouthful of creamy pasta he was chewing on to continue. “That doesn’t mean unhealthy beauty standards people! Bloating is completely normal.” Maybe on the other side of the camera it's not that noticeable, but from right here Namjoon can tell Jimin is pulling comments on autopilot. 

He doesn’t want to think about the implications of an influencer as big as Jimin condoning bloating could do… 

Jimin barely is done with his sentence before he is shoving another mouthful into his lips. Namjoon can only stare at the camera awkwardly. This feels more like a mukbang than a Q&A. He can only look down at his own dish in disinterest, preparing himself for the awkward silence that will only be filled by the detailed nosies of Jimin’s eating. But he is saved from it

Or maybe it's a curse, because Jimin keeps talking. 

“You’re really getting the best of both worlds here.” He is smiling smugly even though he is making claims that Namjoon doesn’t know if he can vouch for; scientifically at least. “A delicious meal that makes you feel satisfied and full, while also being healthy!” Talking while he eats is only making a further creamier mess of his lips and cheeks, some of the sauce pouring in a single stream down his chin. Namjoon doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jimin with this lack of grace, or self awareness. He’s always been so careful about his self image. 

Yet here he was, making a pig of himself in front of thousands of people. 

“Like, so many diets I tried for the channel just ended up leaving me feeling starved. And ever since eating from Enhanced that has not been a problem.” He nods smiling, his voice muffled and his cheeks stretched with the last mouthful of food. It looks downright satirical. “Joonie, are you gonna finish that?”

He doesn’t even have the self preservation to wait until the cameras are off for him to ask. And Namjoon… he doesn’t have any repudiation to stop himself from doing what he wants. 

“Nah, I had some dinner before coming over. You can have it.” His smile is genuine, but for all the wrong reasons. Pushing the plate in Jimin's direction, letting his eyes wander over the state of the younger. He must be obvious because he catches Jimin’s stare on his own. Looking like Namjoon had never seen him before. 

He looked exposed. Quickly whipping the sauce off his chin, and putting his empty plate underneath Namjoon’s, as if he was just asking so he can ‘clean up’. He doesn't know if the camera would even be able to capture it, not even with the ring light, but there’s a hint of pink dusting the entirety of Jimin’s face. 

“So….” Jimin smiled looking down at the table, probably looking through the comments. Oh, what Namjoon would do to read what they say. “Unless there’s any other questions about Enhanced, we’ll get going!” He looks at Namjoon and it's like the crack in his perfect image was never there. But the hasty ending of the live is noticeable. “Anything you’d like to promote, Joonie?” 

“Not really… Just thank you all for letting me come here! And for being interested in the Enhanced food line.” He smiles, bowing his head politely towards the camera. 

“Aish, you’re too humble.” Jimin rubs his shoulder before looking at the camera again. “That will be all then, guys! Thank you so much for watching! Bye Bye!” His voice is downright melodic as he turns off the stream. And for a second, Namjoon worries that the residue tension would hang in the air, with the knowledge that they both know what happened. But Jimin is looking at him with that same loving bright expression that warms Namjoon’s chest without even meaning to. 

“Thanks again for coming and answering people’s questions.” He squeezes at Namjoon’s shoulder before rubbing his nape. “Are you sure you don’t want any more? I get that some people don’t like eating in front of the camera.” 

Not you, though… Namjoon thinks smiling at Jimin. 

“Oh no no, I meant it, I had dinner earlier. I didn’t know it was included with the interview.” He chuckles. Jimin doesn’t aim for the older’s barely eaten plate, Namjoon must’ve assumed wrong. He is already standing up to presumably clean the dishes before flashing Namjoon a flirty smile. 

“You underestimate my services.” A charming wink is all it takes for Namjoon to forget all the assumptions he had made about the younger and the dinner leftovers. Because he’s instead focusing on not feeling whatever Jimin’s allure inevitably causes on anyone. 

“No, I overestimated your communication skills.” He offers his own charming dimpled smile. And he considered it particularly successful when it earns a stream of melodic giggles from Jimin, as he walks to the kitchen. “You didn’t mention dinner in your texts.” 

“I was just excited to see you!” The whine paired with a teasing pout is the last thing Namjoon sees as Jimin walks to the kitchen. “It’s been so long since you came over.” His voice becomes quieter with the sound of the tap being open. 

Now that Jimin is gone, Namjoon purses his lips before pulling out his phone. Curious to see the reactions to their live, it did feel unusually short for a Q&A with a guest. Not that he was eager for Jimin to blabber more muffled questions through the pasta he was stuffing himself with.

There was a certain guilt hanging over him, did his food accidentally ruin Jimin’s image? Not that he considers eating messily enough to cancel someone. But this is the fitness influencer sphere, no amount of internet usage can get him to figure out what  goes on there. Wincing a little he prepares himself for what searching ‘park jimin live’ on Twitter will show him. 

It was a pleasant surprise! And a very rude misjudgement of the community on Namjoon’s part. Most of the users did notice Jimin’s gluttony showing through, but they were delighted to see their idol wasn’t so different from them. Some of them even share their own stories of eating Enhanced products, which Namjoon… definitely feels guilty for reading. 

“People loved the stream!” He beams loud enough to be heard over the running water. “I forget how popular you are sometimes.” 

Jimin’s voice had been only quieted by the sound of him supposedly washing the dishes. But over the sound of the running water, Jimin’s voice now comes out muffled by something else. “Aww, really?” Thickened and enveloped, Namjoon gets up quietly, phone still in hand as he scrolls through. 

“Yeah! Everyone’s gushing about how cute you are… I guess that's the reaction to all your content-.” He halts in his steps. 

The sight that greets him is Jimin, shamefully hunched over the counter. Eating quickly from Namjoon’s plate; hurried enough to not care about the mess of sauce he’s painting on his cheeks and chin. None of the grace and charm that usually follows Jimin in everything that he does present with him in this moment, he looked shameful; embarrassed himself of what he was doing, yet unable to stop himself. 

It’s only worse when Jimin looks up to find Namjoon there. The silence tense with the knowledge that the younger was most certainly trying to be discrete, and ultimately failing. They both knew it, and they both needed to pretend as best as they could to ignore it.   

Nobody expected the person that would perform the best would be Namjoon. 

“See what I mean?” He smiles walking towards a Jimin that's very slowly standing back up straight, as if maybe if he stayed still and calm enough the older wouldn’t notice what he was doing. Namjoon catches a glimpse of his former plate, already close to empty… Jimin had only been in the kitchen for a couple of minutes. 

He idly picks up a napkin walking to the influencer. Who's looking at Namjoon with the same big guilty eyes of a kitten caught scratching the couch. Who knows what he did was wrong but doesn’t know what he’ll get for it. But Namjoon does his best to keep the act on, for both of their dignities. 

“You even look cute eating like a pig.” It was meant to sound funnier, and maybe it would’ve if it weren’t for the tension in the air right now. A miscalculation on his part. But not as bad as the hand that reaches to wipe Jimin’s lips gently, cleaning him off the sauce that he’ll probably cover himself with once he starts eating what's left of the dish again. Probably when Namjoon leaves. 

He should not be thinking about that right now. 

It's him who should be worrying about Jimin’s reaction now, but luckily the younger catches Namjoon’s cues. Confident smile spread slowly on his (now clean) face. “You said you didn’t want anymore.” He retorts, and he is absolutely right. 

I just didn’t think you would actually eat it. He saves that comment to himself.

Chapter Text

Taehyung is a persistent person, even through his overworked disappearance Taehyung never gave up in inviting Namjoon to any of the luxurious events he considers the older would enjoy going to. It made Namjoon’s heart size up as much as it made it sink with guilt. 

So when he got yet another excited text from Taehyung from another art fashion gala asking if he wanted to be Taehyung’s plus one, he cleared his entire schedule. Answering immediately, finally relieved that the one excuse that had been keeping him from seeing Taehyung, didn't make his heart sink any longer. 

He’s always known Taehyung was a model, experimental, bizarre, sometimes grotesque, but elegant and attractive nonetheless. He isn’t a stranger to uglifying himself, but maybe it's the genuinity behind everything he does that makes him alluring nonetheless. At least in Namjoon’s eyes; he knows the model gets his fair share of criticism. But remains prestigious enough to be invited to all these events. “It's because I make headliners even in the conservative news.” Taehyung says, and he is absolutely right. 

However, it doesn’t hit that he is friends with an actual elite until he is picking out a suit for Taehyung to pick him up. Anxieties running high because if he wasn’t going to feel out of his element enough already, he is going to be the plus one of possibly the most enticing, eye-catching person Namjoon can think of. 

Fuck it, if he looks basic enough he can pass as his assistant or something. 

That's what he tries to remind himself of as he watches the car Namjoon doesn’t even recognize the brand off pull up by his and Jungkook’s apartment. But the Taehyung that gets out the car is in a plain all black suit; subtle jewelry, and his untouched curly brown hair. 

“Tae-ah what are you-?” He doesn’t get to finish to answer his question. The younger is smiling softly walking up to him. 

“Is your first time coming to one of these, I didn’t want camera’s following us everywhere.” He immediately aims for a hug, and Namjoon doesn't hold back from matching his intensity. Grinning by the time they separate; nerves already melting away. 

“I think cameras are going to follow you anyways. You look incredible.” He is shameless in the way he eyes down and up his body to his subtle but elegant makeup. Ethereal but somehow approachable. At least now that he knows Taehyung personally. He remembers the intimidation he felt for the beautiful stranger. Before realizing he is just an overgrown puppy with too much love to give and too much memory to remember all the small details of his friends.

“I think they’ll be too distracted over the fact Kim Namjoon was seen wearing anything else than a lab coat.” He jokes admiring Namjoon’s too-basic-to-deserve-praise outfit. Hand gently on his shoulders, turning him for Taehyung to get a better look. 

“Don’t patronize me.” Namjoon deadpans, pushing Taehuyng’s hand off his shoulder and making his way to the car. 

“I mean it!” The younger whines after him. “I’m proud you figured out there was a dress code all by yourself!” The whine is less convincing when the teasing giggle attached to his sentence slips out, rushing to the car as well. Namjoon wants to be annoyed, but the wide grin Taehyung offers their noses immediately close is enough to make it dissipate. Instead his heart stutters a bit, as Taehyung opens the car door for him. 

“Allow me.” His deep voice is warm enough to spread across Namjoon’s cheeks. Door slowly opened for him to get in. “And you can’t call me patronizing.” He is already seated when Taehyung says that; looking up incredulous but smiling. 

“Literally why not.”

“I just want tonight to be special!” Sometimes Namjoon struggles to tie the fierce supermodel he keeps up with on instagram with the whiny baby getting into the car. But he finds Namjoon feels tender endearment for both of them. 

“Tonight is so special already, how did you remember I liked Park Kosuk?” Even if his tone was reassuring at first, Namjoon finds himself turning giddy over the details. 

“Of course I remember! We talked about it that one time!” His argument only makes Namjoon even more baffled. 

“Even I don’t remember when that was.” If he is shaking his head, disappointment is the last thing on his mind. But inevitably gluing his eyes to Taehyung’s dreamy side profile, he looked a little flush himself; as if being an attentive friend was anything to be embarrassed about. “You’re too sweet, Taehyungie.” His hand rubs at the younger’s knee. Regardless of the way the model blushed under Namjoon’s praise, it was easy for the older to steer the conversation somewhere else. Catching up on his projects, future and begones.

“Wait, so your last project wasn’t ‘camp’?” Namjoon asks as they start arriving at the venue, the Leeum Museum of Art coming into view; and soon the line of expensive cars and people coming into the entrance. 

And the paparazzi, of course. 

“Kitsch is very camp adjacent. But not everything that is camp is Kitsch.” Taehyung explains, their conversations always find ways into tangents like this one. “Something else that's camp would be… That clown painting you and Jungkook found in the storage when you got the apartment!” 

“Oh my god!” He whines. “I forgot that thing existed.” The horrifying image of that dusty oil painting, and his and Jungkook’s completely mortified expressions will forever be imprinted on his mind. A single minute of silence before Jungkook mumbled ‘we have to burn it’. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Taehyung smiles at him, not looking all that apologetic. When they had told their friends about it, Taehyung had been the first to whine that they didn’t think of giving it to him. ‘I love paintings with an aura!’ He distinctly remembers the pillow Jungkook had thrown across the room.  

“I still wish you took a picture at least before burning it!!” He continues whining. “I bet it would’ve looked great in your living room.” 

“You know what wouldn’t have looked that good, though? A killer clown ghost.” 

“I’ve always wanted a roommate…” His lips purse out and eyebrows raise in the way where he is trying to get a bullshit point across. And Namjoon has to struggle not to succumb to his charms. 

“You can’t be that lonely to want a killer clown for companionship.” He snorts. “I know lots of people who would volunteer.” Even if he is smiling charmingly at Taehyung, he is met with that pouting baby he encounters sometimes. 

Specifically, whenever Namjoon corners him in Taehyung’s own bullshit argument. 

“But people are annoying and you have to talk to them.”

“Then you don’t really want a roommate.”  He is unphased through the puppy eyes and jutted out bottom lip. 

“I just want to live knowing there’s a powerful presence in the room with me! Is that so much to ask?!” 

“You can have Jungkook for a couple of days.”  Namjoon deadpans, smiling at his own joke. “He naps enough to feel that way.” 

“Oh! That might work.” The way his expression completely changes to somewhat pleased with himself, reminds Namjoon his friend is an actor. “How is his bulk going”? 

“I already have to hear enough about it at home, Taehyungie…” It's Namjoon’s turn to pout, a  rare sight that sends Taehyung into a fit of giggles, looking back at the road with a bright grin. 

It wasn’t so much as ‘hearing about it’ and more like Namjoon had to suffer the consequences of it. He doesn’t really trust himself to start describing in detail how Jungkook’s bulk is going…

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Taehyung chuckles through his apology. “We’re almost here anyways.” He must sense the anxieties that shoot from Namjoon’s stomach, because he is side eyeing the older warmley. “Just follow my lead ok?” 

They park the car in front of the modern light up building, and Namjoon already sees with dread the cameras preparing themselves for who they think it might be. If he walked through alone, he is sure no one would bat an eye. But no, his friend just had to be the most stunning person in every room he walks into. 

It's a blurr. 

No literally, the flash blurred his vision. Taehyung stops halfway through the carpet for cameras to go particularly crazy and even Namjoon tries to follow to the best of his ability.There's no guaranteeing he doesn't look like the lowest chain of human evolution with all those flash making his face contort. They end up inside somehow, Namjooon was just following the hazy silhouette of Taehyung’s frame. 

The shockingly calm atmosphere inside the museum is enough to startle him a bit, blinking back into a normal vision to look around.  The subtle warm lights illuminating Park Kosuk’s paintings beautifully with scattered, but plenty, visitors walking around leisurely. A bar set up and even some waiters walking around with little platters. 

“I didn’t even know you could have food at museums….” He mumbles to Taehyung a bit in awe, and a bit in resentment. They’ll let famous people get away with anything. 

“You can’t, but I think the planners insisted on having the latest Enhanced brand on their latest event.” Taehyung’s smile turns smug and teasing as he reaches for one of the small dishes a waitress offered on her tray. Swiftly pushing the whole appetizer into his mouth, stretching his lips.

Nobody should look that confident while eating that messily. Sauce painting the edge of his lips with what Namjoon assumes is barbecue sauce. 

“I thought you said you didn't want cameras on you.” He hushes leaning closer to Taehyugn to wipe his lips. Even as he scolds his smile is a bit incredulous, blush dusting his chin hopefully concealed by the artsy not really practical lighting. Taehyung lets himself be babied without resistance. “I can already read ‘Supermodel Kim Taehyung, eating like a pig at the Park Kosuk exposition’.” 

The way his boxy smile only seems to widen at Namjoon’s remark makes the older’s stomach clench. “Let them see, your new line of food is too delicious to eat properly.” That doesn’t help the warmth spreading down his navel. 

“Let's just start with the exposition. Before you ruin your reputation even more.” He rolls his eyes, and hopes the conversation dies there, taking Taehyung’s hands in his as he drags him to the beginning of the exposition. The model’s melodic giggle, loud enough to make some head turns in their direction.

“That could never happen!” He beams as Namjoon forces one of the brochures into his hand. Biting his lip even though his smile as he shushes Taehyung who looks so proud of the embarrassed blush dusting Namjoon’s cheeks. 

“That's what you think.” 

“I’ve been going to most events that have Enhanced™ brand catering. And no one’s ever written an article about it yet.” As he says it, another waiter is passing by, Taehyung grabs two appetizers. Doesn’t offer Namjoon one. 

“Wait, you’ve been going specifically depending on what food they serve?” He raises an eyebrow, and has to wait a bit for his response because in the one glance Namjoon took at the painting, Taehyung had shoved the first finger dish into his mouth. 

“Only if it's your food, though.” The answer comes through full cheeks, not waiting to be done with the handful he shoved past his lips to start talking. Swallowing thickly before continuing. “It just makes all these events so much more bearable.” However it's only once those words are out of his lips that Taehyung is shoving the second appetizer into his mouth. 

Namjoon’s eyes widened a little at the sight of his lips stretching far and wide trying to take it all in one bite. Forcing out a weak chuckle. 

“H-here I was… Thinking you were a fellow enthusiast of the arts.” If he shakes head in fake disappointment, it's definitely not to force his eyes away from the model’s slightly red tainted lips and onto the painting in front of them. One of Namjoon’s favorites. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“I am!” He defends himself not waiting till he swallows, again. “I just think being able to eat good food while appreciating it is even better! ” Taehyung’s lips pout, a deadly combination with the swell of his cheeks still chewing down the bite. “These events are too long, I get hungry…” The puppy eyes are staring into his soul. “You want me to go hungry? Is that it?” 

“Aish. No Taehyung I would never-”

“Want me to succumb to the horrible beauty standards of the model industry?!” Dramatically making a scene as he walks closer to Namjoon, who sees right through the self righteous facade. And in his only act of self defense, reaches out for a waitress to come over so he can grab an appetizer of his own. And offer it to him. 

“Here.” 

Dropping the act entirely Taehyung beams. “Thank you, hyungie.” He eagerly takes it, and it's all it takes to shut him up from what was quickly becoming a scene. Luckily quieting him down before any other heads turned their way. And once Taehyung had shoved it past his lips in a single bite, Namjoon didn’t give him more time to argue instead taking his hand and guiding him through the exhibition. Desperately trying to focus his attention on the art, and not on everything Taehyung just said; or the distinct sound of chewing following behind Namjoon. 

“So what do you like about him?” Taehyung asks idly, not letting go of the older’s fingers laced with his own. Even if his voice still sounds a little thick from the greasy finger foods he shoved down in almost consecutive order, Namjoon is more than eager to fill out the silence with literally anything else than Taehyung’s rambles about his food line. 

So he does, taking an ever curious Taehyung through the art gallery slowly talking about the paintings he recognizes, and taking his time to read the small paragraph of information provided on Taehyung’s oil stained brochure. 

You know, Namjoon’s always considered him a great listener. But now he was making sure not to interrupt Namjoon with the constant stream of finger foods he keeps snatching off trays. The demand never ceases as the staff seems to be roaming the place constantly with quickly emptying trays. Sometimes they come across Taehyung full but just as many times they pass them by spotlessly clean. 

From the corner of his eye he can see Taehyung’s eyes follow the staff, with his signature puppy eyes as if to lure them in his direction. He’d love to ask the younger if he is listening to Namjoon at all, just to see him fumble through an explanation; but it's so much cuter to just see him keep track of any tray of food that comes nearby. 

When it's a particularly full tray, he doesn’t even seem to hold any remorse about grabbing more than one or two servings. Trying to stack as many of those tiny dishes in his hand, and Namjoon has to look away before he sees the way Taehyung is even attempting to eat those with only just one hand. But definitely can't miss the sound of him licking at his greasy fingers only a few minutes after the fact. Or the soft labored breathing he starts developing as they make their way through the exhibition. 

Honestly, Namjoon himself isn’t paying much attention to what he is rambling about.

How could he? When he turns to look at Taehyung, he is looking back at Namjoon with wide ‘guilty’ eyes, full cheeks and a hand whipping on his expensive button up. He lets his eyes snake down the model’s body then, catching not only the glimmer of his oily long fingers but the pressing of a bloat against the silky fabric. Curving outwards against the black belt, luxurious fabric catching the curve under the light perfectly. 

Namjoon doesn’t even want to think about how many of these small dishes Taheyung must have eaten for him to bloat in such an obvious way. Stomach protruding even further than the loose fitting blazer could disguise. His messy hand not wiping itself anymore and rather staying on the distended curve of his stomach, subtly rubbing up and down the bloat. 

“What do you think?” He asks more to interrupt his own thoughts rather than to put Taehyung on the spot. Forcing his eyes quickly to the younger’s embarrassed face as Namjoon nods towards the painting ahead of them. 

Taehyung gladly takes the distraction and looks at it with pursed lips. 

“It's all bold strokes but it looks so peaceful at the same time… Really pushing that hate-love relationship about his hometown that you mentioned.” Namjoon can’t help but widen as Taehyung turns to look at him with a small, sauce stained, smile. His chest still gently rising and falling with a bit more struggle than Namjoon remembers it having when they first arrived. “I like it.”

“You were actually listening?” He asks with a smile, but Taehyung’s expression immediately turns outraged. 

“Of course I was! I asked, didn’t I?” The way his eyes widen and eyebrows scrunch up with a kicked puppy look is too much for him to handle, endeared giggles pushing out his chest as he rubs comforting circles to Taehyung’s back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You were just so quiet I thought I might’ve been boring you to death.” That isn’t the entire truth, but truthful enough Namjoon feels no remorse saying it. 

“You didn’t ask me until the last painting either…” He eyes Namjoon with a distinct pout that says ‘keep comforting me’. Lips slightly ajar as if to cover up the breathiness of his voice. And honestly, he had been so entranced with keeping count of how many dishes Taehyung had scarfed down from, Namjoon hadn't even noticed they were on the last one. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyungie.” A warm smile seeps through his words. “You can tell me all about it on the ride home.” The hand on the center of his back scratches along the hair on his nape gently. Making Taehyung succumb and melt, closing his eyes as he nods. 

“Deal. I need to sit down, anyway.” 

The cameras are still there as they head out, even if not in the intimidating hoard that flashed at them when they arrived. But still, Namjoon can't help but notice the way Taehyung’s hand drops the comfy spot it had on the slight curve of his stomach. Rather buttoning it up swiftly before they approach the paparazzi. 

They get into the car, and only then does Taheyung sigh in relief, as if he was the one not used to the public eye. But it's purely just the relief of sitting down. That and the sneaky hand under his blazer that seems to unbutton something else.  Namjoon has to really focus himself to not stare at the undone ends of Taehyung's belt at either side of his hips. Let alone the significantly bigger curve that presses against the now buttoned up blazer. As Taehyung’s thoughts on the exhibition fill the noise that isn’t being taken up by the slightly shallow breathing accompanying his deep voice.

Chapter Text

With everyone so eager to see him, Namjoon nearly forgot about his and Yoongi’s arrangement. For a moment, he was even anticipating his childhood friend to ask him to hang out. But the invitation never came. 

And of course it didn’t. He and Yoongi don’t just ‘invite each other over’. Never have, and never will. They have a strict arrangement. Whenever they want to see the other, with a random burst of memory of their time together as friends, they just warn the other they’re coming over. If it's a bad time, they try again some other time. If the other’s fine, they hang. 

Namjoon is more than ok with writing to Yoongi about stopping by a few hours later that same day. Getting a quick response with a short ‘sure’. The dry response made a smile grow on Namjoon's face already.

Ah… It's like nothing ever changed. 

He is at the door of Yoongi’s apartment, not even changing out of the not-quite-pajamas but not-quite-outside-clothes he had on. And is pleased to see Yoongi in a similar situation to him, long silky hair behind his ears and puffy expression. 

“Hey.” As courtly as it comes out, Yoongi’s warm smile gives him away. And Namjoon must have a similar dumb grin on his face. 

“Hey, hyung. Missed you.” He says it even though it makes Yoongi’s nose scrunch up cutely, close to cringing.  Stepping inside the older’s apartment without having to be let in. Side hugging him with a nice pat on his shoulder. 

“Come on, it's not like you came back from the dead.” His gums are showing, so his complaints and dismisses are so ineffective. “I saw you at that surprise dinner.” 

Namjoon takes a good look at the apartment, before turning over his shoulder to Yoongi who was closing the door. “That was almost 2 months ago, hyung.” Having turned only to see the way Yoongi’s eyes cutely widen and his eyebrows raise. 

“Oh shit.” He giggles, grimacing a little guilty. 

It's usually Namjoon the one to remind them to hang out. Yoongi being his own level of perpetually buried in work, so easily immersed in his projects Namjoon liked to come unannounced just to check that his hyung was ok and well. He wasn’t the best cook but he’d order something for the two of them and guilt trip Yoongi into separating from the few inches he was keeping from the screen. 

Software developers. Namjoon knew what he was signing up for befriending another nerd in highschool. 

He hopes his own immersion into the Enhanced food line didn’t affect Yoongi that much. But… By the looks of it, the older seemed fine. Skin at least a healthy shade of pale, eyebags merely soft creases under his eyes, instead of the dark purple and green Namjoon has seen them get to. His face puffy and soft instead of the sunken cheeks that scared him a little. He looked peaceful, familiar and comforting. 

“Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Namjoon chuckles, opening his arms in response to the guilty look in Yoongi’s eyes. Hesitating for a second, looks down at Namjoon’s invitation and back at his warm softened smile, before he is walking to a gentle hug. 

“I’m sorry I disappeared… I promise I’m fine.”  His face matches perfectly the height of Namjoon’s shoulder, cheek squished against the muscle, as the warm breath brushes the younger’s neck. 

“Hey, I disappeared too. And for a lot longer than 2 months.” Namjoon’s fingers find refuge combing through Yoongi’s dark locks. “Besides… You look really well, hyung.” Nothing but genuine warmth pours on his voice, he is sure Yoongi can feel it vibrate from where their chests press together. 

“You disappeared to make the world a better place.” He separates smiling up at him, touched by the compliment but it only shows in his small grin; since he decides to ignore it entirely. “All I’ve been working on is some stupid pet-sitting app.” 

“That doesn’t sound bad at all!” Namjoon argues with a smile. 

“If people don’t have the time to take care of them, why are they having pets in the first place?” He pushes away from the embrace entirely. 

“Don’t you think you might be projecting your frustrations onto the poor pet owners who want a weekend vacation?” Namjoon’s eyebrow raises, smiling endeared. 

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t budge from its squinted glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.” That tells Namjoon everything he needs to know, soft giggles bursting in. “Are you going to keep interrogating me or can we order dinner?” 

In their many years of friendship, especially when they both became ‘soulless workforce of the capitalist machine’ (Yoongi’s words), it was usually Namjoon the one reminding the older of dinner. So it's a pleasant surprise. 

“Fine, I’m craving pizza, though.” He makes himself at home walking further into Yoongi’s living room towards the couch. “All I’ve had is protein ever since Jungkook started his bulk.” Namjoon plops down.  

“Another one?” Yoongi chuckles, following the younger to sit down next to him. 

“I know.” His genuine exhaustion is covered up by the equally truthful endearment. “He thinks if he just eats Enhanced then his muscles will start to grow.” Namjoon rather not get into the details of it, so he is quick to change the subject. 

“You look really good, though. Especially for someone who hasn’t had human interaction in almost 2 months.” He has to cover up his compliment with a joke if he at least wants Yoongi to acknowledge it. 

“I had plenty human interaction, ass.” He mumbles. “You’re not my only friend you know!?” Looking at Namjoon distraught. 

“Well it looks like it.” Unfazed smile stays genuine and loving. “Is someone else reminding you to eat your meals? Should I feel replaced?” He tilts his head as if to infuriate Yoongi a little more. 

“I’ve been doing that all myself, actually.” See? If he pesters Yoongi enough, Namjoon can get him to acknowledge the compliment. Smug, proud smile looking adorable on his face; something a bit stronger than ‘lighthearted endearment’ tugging at his chest. 

“Wait, really?!” He can’t hide the excitement in his voice. 

“Is it that hard to believe?” The soft giggles that leave his voice, make his whole delivery less intimidating. “It's sorta your fault, though.” 

“So I shouldn’t feel replaced?” Namjoon teases with a raised eyebrow.  “What did I do?” 

How puzzled he must sound makes Yoongi’s smile widen more. “I’m pretty sure the only reason I've been eating consistently is because I can’t stop thinking about your food line.” He nudges Namjoon’s shoulder as he says it. 

So casually too, but the younger’s stomach sinks a little at the implications. Situations he feels so guilty of provoking, but even more guilty of enjoying. “Shut up…” He says smiling a bit, hoping it passes as a response to the flattery; and not something else. 

“I’m 100% serious.” Namjoon for once wished he wasn’t hearing these facts about Yoongi’s wellbeing; for his own sake. But he keeps going. “Everything tastes so much better, I’m looking forward to my breaks just to have another meal.” 

“Ah, sorry I’m ruining your fun then.” Namjoon chuckles, even if he wouldn’t want anything more than to see Yoongi show him what he’s been eating from his food line. But all of his friends know of his disinterest in it. He doesn’t even like meat, let alone meat made to taste more like meat. But it's for the best to not witness it. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Yoongi says nonchalant, reaching for his phone. “They have Enhanced cheese on pizza too.” 

Namjoon has to force a smile. “Ah… Great.”

“Don’t tell me you don't like the diary of the food line either. Because then there might be a problem.” 

Can Yoongi not enjoy food if it doesn’t have his name brand on it?!

“No…No dairy is fine, don’t worry.” He chuckles hoping it hides his shock. In all of their years together Yoongi showed the same level of apathy towards the energy drinks, that made up most of his diet (or at least used to), or the richest meal Namjoon can possibly imagine. Yoongi just never was big on food! 

So the fact he is making restrictions and innocent threats about Namjoon’s food preference… It's a lot for him to get accustomed to, after about 15 years. Staring at awe as Yoongi happily stares down at his phone, probably placing their order. “Perfect, because I’ve already ordered it.” 

Namjoon makes sure to ignore the way his stomach twists in anticipation. “Well it's great that you’re starting to take care of yourself, hyung.” He says instead, with genuine care. 

“I’m getting old, turns out, I can’t just survive exclusively off caffeine.” 

“Really!?” The blatant sarcasm gets him a playful punch to the shoulder, but Namjoon can’t help himself. He’s been scolding Yoongi about his health for years now, he has some sarcasm rights. “I never would’ve guessed, Yoongi, honestly.” 

“I get it! You were right.” He rolls his eyes before confessing, showing clear distaste for Namjoon’s smug dimpled grin. “I feel more energized and even just in a better mood.” 

“You’re not showing me that happy mood right now, though.” Making his hyung exasperated is a sport, and Namjoon is a gold medalist. But Yoongi is the master at his own craft: indifference towards idiocy. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as he turns to face the younger.

“Just wait until the pizza arrives.” He leans closer to Namjoon, patting his chest. “I’ll be a fucking delight then.” 

“It will be a first for me, so I’ll try not to get too freaked out.” 

“You asked me to come over!” Yoongi is the first to drop the act, his frown futile in his attempt to cover up the whiny tone of his voice. He shoves Namjoon once more, especially hard when the younger starts to giggle endeared. 

He wraps a heavy arm over Yoongi’s shoulders to keep him close, his own laughter covering up the grumbled ‘let me go’s as the older tried to push against his chest. “You’re right, I’m sorry, hyung.” Now that he is embracing him while sitting down, Namjoon can definitely feel the loss of the sharp angles that used to poke at the younger’s body whenever they hugged. “You’re a delight all the time.” He smiles down at where Yoongi’s face was squished to his chest, the warmth on his voice probably seeping through his expression. 

And when Yoongi looks up with a small smile of his own, it feels like a victory. Bigger than the gold medal he got from exasperating him. “Now it just feels like you’re overcompensating to get on my good side.” 

“Is it working?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, smile not faltering. 

“A little, yeah.” The genuinity in Yoongi’s voice is brief. “Feels nice to be respected for a change.” He rolls his eyes, succumbing to Namjoon’s embrace, melting against his arms; like he’s done throughout their entire friendship. No need to fill the silence when they’re together. 

Unfortunately the doorbell rings, making Yoongi grumble under his breath as he is released from Namjoon’s hug and walks towards the door. He stretches freely on the couch, still coming off the relaxation of those few quiet minutes; it's what hanging out with Yoongi does to him. But he can’t help but widen when he catches the older coming back with two pizza boxes, and a smaller one on top of them both.

“Namjoon-ah, help hyung out and get some beers from the fridge, will you?” His expression is jokingly exhausted as walks to the couch. It's a relief to know at least that part of Yoongi hasn’t changed, the part that enjoys a drink with everything. Namjoon can have his controversial opinion about his own food-line’s taste, but he can find a middleground with the beer. Only humming a short ‘mhm’ before lifting himself to go. 

Surely enough, there’s beer in the fridge, along with a bunch of Namjoon’s products. It's becoming harder and harder to pass down these obsessions as just mere support from his friends…

Regardless, he comes back with a six pack in his hand, all of the boxes now opened on the coffee table; Namjoon can now see that extra mysterious box is filled with buttery garlic bread. Letting out their maddening scent take over Yoongi’s living room. Who had the decency of waiting for him before starting, even if his hands clenched at his thighs in anticipation. 

“I’m not that hungry, hyung. You could’ve just gotten one, and with the garlic bread we would’ve been fine.” He can’t help but be a little widened. Yes, Namjoon has always been the one with the bigger appetite out of the two, but it was never this blatant. 

Namjoon wasn’t a glutton, by any means. Even if the glistening oily pizza is staring back at him tantalizingly. 

“Oh yeah… Well, I’ll eat a whole pizza.” He isn’t sure if Yoongi’s shyness is actually there or if he is purely imagining it. Either way, it does nothing to help Namjoon’s shock. “So I just got one for you too, so you can take home leftovers.” 

There was a time, where the idea of Yoongi eating an entire pizza by himself would sound ludacris. And now Namjoon was going to witness it happen. 

How casually Yoongi is folding the lid of the box with one hand while holding a beer can on the other only makes things worse. Like he’s done this many times over the course of these two months since they’ve seen each other. The cheese easily dripped from the edge as he quickly, and skillfully brought the slice up to his face. Tilting his head up all the way to eat the dripping cheese first before biting up to half of the pizza. 

Namjoon could only stare in horror, Yoongi finishing the slice in about two and a half bites. Calm, but urgent; not waiting till he was done chewing to take another bite. As if he couldn’t help himself but to have more, even with some of the previous mouthful already between his teeth. Stretching his cheeks forcing the entire crust in one go. He cleans his fingers against his lips while his other hand leans towards the can of beer; skillfully opening it before washing the thick mouthful with some of it. 

He doubts the beer does anything to help that pizza settle in. 

“I never tried Enhanced cheese honestly…” He does feel the need to fill up the silence now that all there is to hear is Yoongi’s thick gulps of beer. “Jungkook only got the meats.” 

“You gotta try it, then.” Yoongi’s voice sounds a little thick but he smiles nodding to Namjoon’s untouched box. Though the older’s attention on him lasts only for a few seconds before he is grabbing a second slice. And when Namjoon notices him beginning to inhale it similarly to the first one, he forces himself to stare at his own pizza. “It's delicious.” Yoongi adds, but his voice is already muffled with food. 

It does smell really good. He tentatively leans to his box, with reasonable apprehension. 

Namjoon has been witnessing the way his food line has impacted on people’s relationship with food… On their capability to fit as much of it into their stomachs. But all that uneasiness melts away when he picks up the first slice and takes a bite. Heavenly taste taking over his mouth, Namjoon can’t hold back his moan; frowning and shaking his head. 

You know it's good when everything in your face shows blatant disapproval. 

Yoongi chuckles, his own cheeks rounded out, with, what Namjoon assumes looking at his empty oily hand, is the last of that second slice already stuffed into his lips. That doesn’t stop him from smiling quite smugly. “Told you.” 

He can’t even speak, nodding before he is taking another bite, staring wide eyed as if blaming Yoongi for not having told him sooner. Watching as the older grabs a third slice, but this time, he catches onto Namjoon’s stares. 

“And you better hurry, or I’ll start eating off yours.” It's an empty threat, yet something goes off inside of Namjoon. The way Yoongi is scarfing his way through his down dinner, yet eyeing Namjoon’s box with insatiable hunger. He can’t control himself as he tries to take quicker bites of his pizza, not yet mastering the 3-bites technique. But fast enough that he is coughing a little and needs to wash down the greasy thick layers of Enhanced cheese down with beer. Feeling oil run down his forearm and even his chin with the messy bites.

Hurried and continuously aware of Yoongi’s own process with his pizza, Namjoon is desperate to keep up. Only gaining a bit of advantage when Yoongi decides to reach for the steamy container of garlic bread. Hearing his incessant chewing only makes Namjoon more aware of their lack of control. For the first time, succumbing to the delicious taste with the urgency of eating as much as he can before it runs out. Oil and grease only making the slide easier, he isn’t choking on his mouthfuls anymore, swiftly filling his stomach with beer when it gets too much. 

And it's there, the tightness of his stretched stomach is there. Tight and only a little painful, but he has some pizza left to go... If he makes it before Yoongi that is. He barely has it in him to take his eyes away from his own delirious feast to check on the older’s progress. But he is petrified, yet a little relieved to see them quite similar. 

He’s gorging just as much and just as quickly as Yoongi…But at least he doesn’t fear for his food to be eaten before he gets to savor it. Not that he is able to slow down his eating, even if there’s no active threat; why would he stop? When it tastes so ridiculously good. Namjoon finds himself taking long swings of his beer just to wash down the ravenous mouthfuls he is gobbling down; welcoming the warmth that spreads from the center of his tummy. And it's comforting, knowing he isn’t the only one, knowing Yoongi is just as gone as him. 

That they’re losing control together.

His own pleasure is silenced and muffled with an avalanche of food, but through Yoongi’s loud chewing he hears some distant moans himself. Namjoon wants to look, he wants to desperately get a proper view of Yoongi gorging like he’s never seen him before; famished and entranced. Not caring about the wall he puts up around so many people, but letting Namjoon see him like this. Like the glutton he is slowly turning into. 

But Namjoon’s gluttony is just as strong, keeping his eyes strained on the pizza, every slice he picks up leaving a triangular oil stain on the cardboard box. Grease clinging to the inside of his mouth, making him thirsty for more beer; that only stretches his stomach to press against the cotton of his not that loose fitting shirt. His buttoned pants do real damage underneath his shirt, where they sink into Namjoon’s distended tummy, cutting it in half. 

Feels good… feels really good. 

If it weren't for the two hands working full time on stuffing his face, coating his lips with oil, making them glisten, he’d love to get a proper feel of it. Namjoon doesn’t think he’s ever eaten this much in his life, and his body is eager to let him know. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his spread thighs, hopefully eating on top of the now mostly empty cardboard box; letting the oil drip freely on top of that instead of his clothes or Yoongi’s couch. 

“Ah…” Yoongi sighs leaning back, Namjoon catches it from the corner of his eye. The sound of a crinkling can and a small burp. He’s finished. One quick glance is all Namjoon needs to know Yoongi worked his way through the garlic bread too; even if he doesn’t know when or how. 

Namjoon has never related to his friend more. Hearing his labored breathing, his own chewing lazy and drained. As if the tightness in his stomach was rejecting every inhale of air and every swallowed bite of food. Now that he stopped, it feels like he’s lost all momentum. He turns to Yoongi, breathing a little heavy himself; and Yoongi is staring back… Or more specifically, staring at Namjoon’s leftovers. 

“Want some of mine?” He asks, even if Yoongi is the one out-gluttoning him, Namjoon can’t help but blush. Feeling a bit of the gas makes its way up his throat, hand subtly going to the curve of his stomach. Even if he felt the taut tubby flesh bloated against his shirt, he is still surprised at the sensation.

Warm… Feels warmth from the inside out. Still a bit astonished with himself, as Yoongi nods. 

“Sure.” He doesn’t sound that interested but he is eager leaning towards the box grabbing both of the two last slices Namjoon hadn’t managed to eat, pushing them together like a sandwich and inhaling them like it was a normal thing to do. Yoongi leans back again to finish eating and Namjoon follows, melting into the older’s couch staring at the ceiling. 

The satisfying feeling of fullness keeps him dazed as he keeps track of his leisured breathing. Silence ever comfortable between him and Yoongi, who’s in a similar (if not worse) state than him. His hand on the faint curve of his distended tummy. The warmth feels nice enough to lull Namjoon to sleep, but at the back of his mind he wonders… 

Has he given in?

Chapter Text

He’s been a bit paranoid since his time at Yoongi’s. No, Namjoon hasn’t had any other frenzy like he’s seen from all of his friends, but also because he hasn’t been exposed to that much of his food line. Like he said, Jungkook is a lot more into the Enhanced meats Namjoon’s created, which, ironically enough, he doesn’t like. 

So that’s why he’s been staring with hesitance at the scrambled eggs he’s been making in the morning. Wondering if this will be the thing that makes Namjoon tip over the edge and eat like an animal. Maybe the fact he is so jittery about the whole thing is the only thing holding him back. Because he’s only become more aware of every piece of his foodline he stumbles across, not only in his own apartment (courtesy of his… ‘bulking’ roommate), or his friends’ lives, but just to the rest of the world too. 

Every store he walks by has that little sign of his brand outside of it, he’s become acutely aware of walking to a grocery store and spotting what section his foodline is in, just from the stench of it alone. Promotions, publicity, tiktok recipes, reviews, news articles.

Namjoon feels like he is going insane. He needs a breather. Needs to see the only person who can ground him through all this noise. Who won’t be affected by all the popularity around his foodline. 

He needs to see Hoseok. 

And yeah, maybe he is in need of a little workout. Or that's the justification he gives himself as he walks to the gym he knows Hoseok works at. Spinning classes aren’t really his thing, but he rides his bike basically everywhere. How hard can it be?

The room is filled with people who Namjoon can only describe as Hoseok-adjacent. Scrawny and lithe, cheerful and pumped to work out. No bulking, no professional cooking, no influencers. And especially, no Enhanced diary. They look like regulars, easily walking to the bikes; leaving Namjoon by the back of the class. He was never overweight, but just looking around the class he can tell, Namjoon is the biggest person in the class. 

He wishes he could decipher how he feels about that.

But he doesn’t have to worry because Hoseok arrives just in time for the class to start. And… Maybe it's a bit shocking, since he’s always teased in Namjoon’s group of friends, but Hoseok is a rockstar here. Everyone beams at the sight of their cheerful coach, wide heart shaped smile making the entire room shine brighter. Greeting as many people as he can as he makes his way up to the front of the class, the bike facing all of them on a little pedestal. 

Namjoon doesn’t approach him, not because he doesn’t want to be noticed. But he is a little bit too mesmerized to intervene. Something hypnotic about Hoseok being in his element. 

Their eyes meet inevitably, and he grins, waving a bit shyly at Hoseok; who looks ready to combust of joy. A new brightness to his voice when he starts the class, Namjoon tries not to consider himself fully responsible; despite the warmth in his chest.

The romanticism is long forgotten when Hoseok actually starts the class. more importantly, when Namjoon has to endure it. No amount of melodic laughter and bright smiles can get him through what most definitely is the most amount of exercise that Namjoon has done in the past year, at least. 

He was already a mess not even halfway through, but the little timer showed there was still 40 minutes left; his soul was leaving his body. And his legs were beginning to tingle in strain. Namjoon can’t leave, though. Hoseok was so happy when he saw him, he can’t possibly live with that guilt. 

So…. He endures it, and finds out (for better or for worse) why Hoseok is one of the most popular spinning trainers in his gym. 

Fat drops of sweat fall off the tip of his nose, and he is sure he stinks. Gasping for air as he leans his weight into the handles of the bike, everyones excited chatter makes Namjoon believe most of these people are used to this deadly rhythm by now. Hosek being the pinnacle example of that. Only a shiny layer of sweat making his skin glisten, not a hair out of place and still brightening the whole room with his smile. His heart is beating between his ears, but Namjoon can faintly hear everyone saying goodbye to Hoseok. 

Maybe there’s another class happening after this one? Namjoon needs a few more minutes until his legs feel steady enough to hold his weight again. Closing his eyes and focusing on the tingly sensation running down his calves and steadying the desperate gasps of air. He doesn’t notice everyone left until there's a dainty hand on his shoulder, making him lift his head up. 

“So?? What did you think?” Hoseok doesn’t even sound agitated at all, and he’s been greeting people for at least the last 5 minutes. Maybe it's Namjoon’s lightheadedness but an ethereal glow seems to shine off his skin. 

“It—It was good….” He doesn’t even have it in him to fake the enthusiasm. Hoseok doesn’t seem to take it personally, laughter filling up the room, he throws his head back; his joy is contagious even through the haze of exhaustion. 

“Don’t lie to my face!” The older spanks Namjoon’s thigh, and it's so tingly he doesn’t even feel it. “If I knew you wanted to get into Spinning I would’ve signed you up for something a bit tamer.” 

“I’m sorry!” He whines, chuckling breathless. “This was a near death experience, I think I’m good for now.” 

“Did I scare you off?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow, smiling amused. 

“A little.” He offers his most convincing pout in return, and feels the victory wash over him when Hoseok’s expression softens. 

“Let me make it up to you, then.” His hand rubs where slapped Namjoon’s damp thigh, now he is able to feel it a lot more, though. “I bet you’re starving too. Come on, hyung’s treat.” He pats the same spot one more time; by now Namjoon is lucid enough to notice how much bigger he looks with Hoseok's hand on him. 

“Does even the immortal cardio god get hungry after a class?” Namjoon teases instead, lazily lifting his torso to sit upright on the bike. 

“Just get up already. There's another class soon.” He scolds, but it has no bite to it; not with the hand he offers Namjoon. Which he gladly takes, groaning as he stands up; Hoseok doesn’t bother covering his eye roll at that. 

Any other time, getting invited to eat by Hoseok would mean skimming through anything that seemed enjoyable in a menu full of meals trying to replace already perfectly delicious dishes. Trying to find anything that didn’t claim to be gluten free, carb free, sugar free, keto friendly, or anything else. But today… Today Namjoon was craving it. No grease or frying oil, no thick slabs of meat, no obscene amounts of cheese, no temptation. 

He appreciates Hoseok keeping his pace slow as he walks them to whatever vegan restaurant is closest. Ready to have some green smoothie and only a green smoothie, trusting Hoseok will get the exact same. 

Then why is Hoseok walking to a sushi place? An all-you-can-eat sushi place, to be more specific. 

“Oh you don’t have to, hyung. I can make something at home.”  Namjoon chuckles a bit confused following from where Hoseok holds onto his wrist. Trying not to pay attention to the way his dainty fingers wrap around him; so much bigger than Hoseok in so many ways… 

“You never let me treat you to anything!” He whines. “Besides, I’ll be eating too.” Hoseok shrugs, walking them inside. 

“But-” Namjoon can’t help but begin to question.

“I’m pescetarian now!!” He doesn't need to finish for Hoseok to take a guess. And he guessed right. “Enhanced got me to eat animals again.” His confession comes out with a little chuckle. The younger smiles, finally being able to talk about his product without gluttony coming into play. A weight lifting from his shoulders as he lets go of the anticipation of waiting it all becomes a mess of ravenous eating. 

“You know, my next project will be trying to engineer meat out of just some DNA, no animal involved.” His smile widens at Hoseok’s gasp, and the older knocks it out of his face, shoving him. 

For someone so lithe, he is surprisingly strong. “You should get on that!” He exclaims accusingly. “Would save me so much guilt and money!” Even if they’re walking through the other customers to sit down, Hoseok doesn’t hold back from yelling at Namjoon. They sit down and he is still jokingly glaring at the younger! Trying to contain his smile. 

“Can’t I just enjoy my vacation?” He asks dramatically solemn. And snorts when Hoseok doesn’t answer his question and insteads diverts his attention sassily to the menu. Big enough it covers his face entirely. 

“How long will you be on vacation?” The voice behind the menu asks, none of that joking offense present anymore. Big curious eyes peek from above the menu. 

“That's a really good question.” He chuckles. “I’ve just been working so hard for so long, it feels impossible to even think about starting again.” 

“Well it's not like you have to, right?” A smile creeps along with his raised eyebrow. 

“Don’t know if you heard, but Enhanced is doing rather good.” He turns the menu to Hoseok with a smug smile, pointing to the little brand logo at the top of the menu. 

“Forget I asked.” Hoseok scoffs dryly. But it only makes Namjoon burst into a fit of giggles. His expression softens just in time before Hoseok does an eye roll. 

“You’re right. But I wouldn’t want to wait until the product is dying out to start working on something else.” He skims the veggie options. “I’ll probably have to get to work soon.”

“Don’t say that, Joon-ah.” Hoseok scolds him. “It’s only been, what? Two months? Two and a half?”

“Yeah.”

“And it doesn’t seem to be dying out at all!” As he says that the waiter arrives at their table. “Relax.” He glances at the younger smiling reassuringly before turning his full attention to the staff.

Nothing. And he means this, nothing. Could've prepared Namjoon for the amount of food Hoseok was about to order. Listing rolls Namjoon didn’t know the meaning of. But he did know, he was listing a lot of them. 

Only a sinking feeling tugging at his stomach from the realization. This wasn’t Namjoon’s escape. His day free of delirious gorging, gluttonous amounts of food. Of watching his closest friends lose themselves to a meal. He’d been foolish to think Hoseok would be stronger than the temptation.

Namjoon merely considers himself lucky to not like seafood at all. Thanks himself for his genuine distaste for meat. Though maybe it would be better to live ignorance, like these guys. Hoseok glances his way and snaps him out of his trance. 

“What are you having?” He asks so casually, as if he hadn’t ordered enough for the both of them, and a third starving guest. 

“Uh…Just uhm 8 of these.” Namjoon feels so inhibited after Hoseok’s ridiculous display of orders. He points to the veggie rolls in the menu. The waiter must be a little stunned himself, only nodding and smiling courtly. 

“Oh and coke zero, please.” The waiter and Namjoon’s shared moment of awareness is interrupted by Hoseok. 

“And…and water, thanks.” He adds just to fill in the silence.Finally sparing the poor staff from this interaction. He catches Hoseok’s expression only to find complete indifference. 

“So… You’re not doing intermittent fasting anymore?” That, however, that seems to be the thing to stun him. Hoseok immediately scoffing before he replies. 

“Not anymore, no. It was only stunting my health to eat so little.” Hoseok nods as their beverages are set on the table. “I’m not bulking, still on caloric deficit but you know.” He smiles shyly shrugging. “Doesn’t mean I have to deprive myself.” It's contagious, Namjoon finds himself smiling too. 

Yeah. He’s always thought Hoseok went to far extents to stay thin. This is good news! Not something for Namjoon to feel perverted anticipation towards. He lets warmth spread across his chest for a different reason than he expected walking into the sushi place. Even if he doesn’t understand that much of what Hoseok’s explaining; Jungkook’s always been better at this sort of talk. 

“That’s really good to hear, Seokie.” He smiles. “You’re allowed to have a cheat day every once in a while, right?” 

“That's the best part.” Hoseok grins, opening his can of coke. “This isn’t a cheat day!” He beams before taking a sip of the soda. “Sushi is just raw fish and rice, that’s just healthy.” Watching him shrug so simply, Namjoon can’t help but frown a little. 

“Is sushi really that healthy?” Anything he’s seen Jungkook gobble down for his bulk can’t be particularly good for a caloric deficit, right?

“Trust me.” Hoseok told the food engineer. “I know what I’m doing.”

For his own sanity, Namjoon can only shrug. Trying to remain calm as Hoseok’s many orders of sushi that he ordered. His own small assortment not nearly enough to distract himself from the feast that was being set before Hoseok. Forcing himself to stay wishfully ignorant about what Namjoon knew was another victim of his food-line’s side effects. He is choosing to ignore that for the sake of just having a nice lunch with his friend. 

Namjoon is well aware the side effect isn’t as big of a problem as his reaction to that induced ravishing hunger. 

They’re both already eating, Namjoon trying to make his 8 pieces last, when he speaks. “I mean… sushi is so filling, though.” Curse his ego, unable to speak what he thinks outright but not letting him shut up for once. 

“Healthy foods can be very filling, Joon.” His tone is just cheerful enough to not sound condescending. Or maybe it's because it's being muffled by thick lumps of rice. Something in him urging to correct Hoseok that yes, healthy foods can be filling. But the amount of food he ordered isn’t just filling, it's downright intestine-stretching. 

Yet… he says nothing. Not even getting a roll of his eyes as he says. “You’re right, hyung.” Namjoon wants to say it's to spare the older’s ego. But he knows his actual reasons. 

Hoseok is demonstrating them for him right now, in the eager shoveling of nigiris down his throat; only downing it with an ever-filling soda. Namjoon can’t even imagine how this Hoseok, the one who had an appetite small enough to not struggle while fasting, is making room for all this. The rhythm of his chopsticks traveling from the tray to his dainty lips; cheeks stretching with each big piece, not even waiting to be done chewing before his fingers senselessly bring another one. He only sets them down when it's time to take a swing of his coke. 

His other hand….Well, Namjoon finds it mysteriously disappeared under the table. And doesn't quite know what to do with that information. He doesn’t need to think hard about what it might be doing. 

Anyone’s middle would bloat with such a big meal, but Hoseok? 

“Is that really all you’re having?” He took a moment to swallow, finally diverting his attention to Namjoon’s meek 8 pieces. Some of them he hasn’t even touched while Hoseok is pretty much done with his masacre. 

“I’m a little nauseous after that class, not gonna lie.” He chuckles a bit, and it's true. “I’d get a cramp eating that much.” Namjoon didn’t mean to bring attention to the excessive amount of food Hoseok was feasting upon at only 11 am. It’s stronger than him. He complains wordlessly as Hoseok takes out his wallet to pay. 

He did say hyung’s treat after all. And Namjoon wasn’t about to split the bill on such an unequal meal. 

“I need to regain fuel! Especially after a workout like that.” And honestly, it's not the first time blatant gluttony has been disguised as a fitness thing; he lives with Jungkook after all. Namjoon begins to stand up from the table, and Hoseok does the same… just exceptionally slower.

And he sees it then, the infamous other hand cupping at the distinct curve of Hoseok’s bloat. Rounded out almost abnormally big; especially so in the contrast of his slim body. His gym clothes doing nothing to hide it, stretchy material only clinging to the taut dome that protrudes outwards. Hoseok looks closer to a couple of months pregnant. 

“When you get sick from having sushi in between classes… I won’t be there to spare you from the embarrassment.” He has to find something to say a little aimless once his attention sets on the older’s distended stomach. Voice a little too far gone for his words to have the bite it should’ve. Hoseok starts to walk towards the door and as he follows Namjoon has to keep in mind to stay on the older’s slow pace. 

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been doing it for like a month now and it's worked like a charm. I’m more energized than ever. And I'm starving after every class too.” To Namjoon, that just sounds like Hoseok’s body is craving all the calories he just burned back into his body. A thought he doesn’t find that much comfort in. Though he can hear the smugness in his tone, even if his eyes stay glued to that dainty hand, rubbing up and down subtly on the hard shell of his bloat. 

“Maybe you’re working out too much if you need to carb-load after every class?” Even if he came to Hoseok looking for a breath of fresh air after everything he’s seen of the others, his resentment for his incessant tactics to fight against his own body always comes through. He inevitably reaches the door sooner and has to watch Hoseok nearly waddle towards him. He swears even his voice is a little breathless.  

“If I ate this much and stopped working out, I’d just get out of shape, Joon.” He passes him by then, making sure to smile sweetly up at the younger. Small hand, the one that isn't on his bloat obviously, pats Namjoon’s chest before exiting the store. “If I just carb-loaded for no reason… I’d be Jungkook.” 

And that…that makes Namjoon laugh. 

“You’ve noticed it too?” His question has a string of giggles trailing behind it. A sudden relief of being able to talk about it; or even better, paying attention to anything but the way Hoseok walks a little slower thanks to his bloat. “I forget you guys workout together.”

“Please. He’s been avoiding me because I tell it to him like it is.” He rolls his eyes, smiling a bit endeared. “That bulk is going nowhere .” Hoseok bites into his bottom lip like when he knows he is being a little bit mean. Not that Namjoon can say anything… He thinks the exact same. 

“He’s really giving it his all…” Namjoon follows him slowly to Hoseok’s car, not missing the way the older pushes the waistband of his gym shorts down the curve of his distended tummy until they are sitting underneath. Without that restriction Hoseok’s stomach pushes out even more. 

Hoseok scoffs with a smile, eyeing Namjoon knowingly. It forces him to look up to meet the older’s gaze. 

“Some people just have no self control.” He shakes his head slightly. “Want anything for dessert?” Hoseok questions immediately after. The twist is enough for Namoon to have to force himself to swallow a laugh. 

“I didn’t know brunch came with dessert.” Namjoon snorts a little. “Besides, you already treated me to sushi.” He adds only to stop himself from sounding to accusing. 

“We need to build up our sugar levels somehow, right?” Hoseok scoffs like Namjoon was being ridiculous at him. “I can’t faint halfway through my 11 am class.” He already sees the older take a turn towards fast food drive-through. The familiar sense of dread Namjoon has been becoming accustomed to creeping back up to his conscience. 

“I guess you’re right…” He says a little absent minded. “I’m fine though, thanks.” Namjoon knows better than to trust himself around any dairy, especially around the Enhanced-milk options. 

“Suit yourself.” Hoseok shrugs, not thinking much of the difference in the size of their ‘mid-day snack’. He leans over the speaker, Namjoon braces himself. “Good morning, I’ll have a strawberry milkshake with Enhanced milk, and a chocolate chip cookie, please.” 

He wants to think it's not that bad, but on top of everything Hoseok’s eaten in the past hour… Namjoon’s stomach twists in arousal all the same. 

“We have a discount right now, with Enhanced you can get a 2x1 on the milkshakes.” The worker announces from the speaker. His marketing team is going to hell and back with this food line, huh? 

Hoseok doesn’t even eye Namjoon before speaking. “Oh, great! I’ll have 2 then, thank you.” And Namjoon really feels his insides churn in response. Has to watch as Hoseok picks up two handfuls of thick pink strawberry shakes; a smile eager on his face as he sets them down, they barely fit into the cup holders. 

In the silence of Hoseok happily driving away, probably to Namjoon’s house if he knows anything about his hyung care, he tenses. Waiting for it. But it never comes… Hoseok just absentmindedly picks up his girthy plastic cup and starts chugging it down. Namjoon can imagine how delicious it is, if Hoseok's happy humming is anything to go by. 

Namjoon really tries to hold himself from picturing how delectable it has to be. Trailing the way Hoseoks’ Adam's apple bobs swallowing the thick liquid all the way down till its expanding the tight bloat on his belly. The little stretchy tank top beginning to give up, sliding slowly, painfully slowly, up the curve of his tummy. Namjoon has to pry his eyes away before he can see a sliver of skin. Leaving him with only the addictive imagery of the milkshake to think about; how thickly it would slide down his throat, how filling it must be, how the enhanced flavor would take over the entire expanse of his taste pallets. 

Already done with the first shake, Hoseok pulls up by Namjoon and Jungkook’s apartment. He uses the stop to crumple the cup and reach for the second one. 

And he didn’t even offer. 

“Really thank you for coming over, Namjoonie.” Hoseok’s smile is sweet as he turns to him, taking the first sip. “I’ll make sure to make lighter classes for when you come around.” The excitement in his voice is so genuine, though. Namjooon can only smile back, just as warmly. 

“I’ll let you know. It was actually kind of fun.” The confession isn’t a lie. Even if it does go down onto the short list of Namjoon’s near-death-experiences. “Especially if I’m getting treated to brunch afterwards.” Well, almost, he wants to think. Since he didn’t get his hands on a milkshake. 

“You can count it as Jung Hoseok guarantee!” He winks. “Now get off, I really need to make it in time.” Namjoon chuckles at the sudden urgency, he wouldn’t be in such a hurry if he hadn’t set himself up to drive Namjoon home…. Or if he hadn’t stopped at the drive through for those milkshakes. 

“Fine, fine! See you.” He grins as he rushes out of the car. Hoseok sped by as soon as he closed the door. 

It only takes a few seconds of hearing the car drive by and get further away, that Namjoon pulls out his phone to get some delivery. 

He’s really, really in need of a milkshake.

Chapter Text

There's no use in denying it now. Something about his food is making people lose control of themselves. Making them eat more than they can handle, having them crave more than they need. And probably, Namjoon isn’t sure yet, making them pork up at a ridiculous rate.

It's not just his group of friends. As the signs of ‘Partnered with Enhanced’ spread through every restaurant in Seoul (and he is saying Seoul since he’s too scared to travel beyond the capital), Namjoon encountered more people porting a proud belly bouncing with their step. Sometimes walking in front of the windows of the restaurants and seeing inside people scarfing down their plates clean with the same desperation he witnessed from his friends. 

More influencers reassuring and recommending it, Namjoon doesn’t want to think about how much money his team put into those endorsements. Influencers hyping his brand through mouthfuls of an Enhanced-Sponsored meal, TV chefs, celebrity personal trainers. It got to a point where Namjoon started doubting if it was a sponsor at all. Or if they were all just victims to the maddening addictive taste of his food line.  

He feels like the only sane person in the city. 

And right now, like the only sane person in this apartment . 

“You know…. Hoseok hyung said that you were avoiding him.” Namjoon comments idly over breakfast. As usual, Jungkook is scarfing down his ‘balanced’ prepped breakfast of eggs, bacon, avocado toast, and the tall glass of shake that he’s come to dread every morning; and Namjoon is eating the remains of whatever Jungkook’s masacre left.

“Aish, I knew he’d talk to you about it.” His tone is close to whiny, the pout on his cheeks are anything to go by. “I just don’t want to do cardio every day of the week!” And it's definitely a whine as he justified himself half done with his chewing. 

The damage of his bulk manifested in the roundness of his cheeks, making him look younger in the way his jawline faded to nothing under the padding that collects under his chin. But not only that, through the new length of his wavy hair Namjoon could still see the way his shoulders lost their sharp definition, collar bones buried, and the hard angles of his muscles smoothed out with softness. 

Everyday, he sees Jungkook stuff down inhumane amounts of food for the sake of bulking up. And for the first time, it's working . 

With Namjoon’s food , it's working. 

And he feels enough lunacy as it is without that one singular fact driving him mad. So, Namjoon really is backed into a corner, where sometimes, the only way he can find any sense of groundness, is letting out some steam. 

“Well… Have you been going to the gym at all lately?” He retorts, eyeing Jungkook’s widened expression. Yes, his roommate is pretty much exclusively in athleisure every day. But that's no longer enough to make a convincing enough case that he is someone who stays in shape. 

How could it ever? With the way a protruding round belly stretched out all of his muscle tees, the shredded abs disappeared over the bulk of every large meal packing on his middle. It bounced as a single unit and peaked from underneath the shirt whenever he stretched lazily. The wide hard expanse of his chest, perky pectorals and small chocolate chip-nipples enlarged and softened. Bouncy and squishy, nipples puffy and pressing to the scratchy stretchy fabric of his skin tight shirts. His once defined skinny waist became tubby and thickened, making him look sturdier, stronger even. But the chubby love handles that sit at the edge of the stretched waistband of his gym shorts give it away. 

Jungkook got fat. 

“Of course I have!” He defends frowning as if insulted. “I just don’t have to go everyday now that I'm bulking.” It's the same excuse Namjoon’s been hearing at least once a day for the past months. The safety blanket that allows Jungkook to eat until he can’t lift himself from the chair. Or start the morning promising to go workout only for his legs to take him lazily back to their couch. 

“You know best.” Namjoon shrugs, but the knowing smile that creeps on his face only raises Jungkook’s defenses higher. 

“I’ve been going to the gym, hyung.” He states, frown creasing between his eyebrows. 

“I believe you.” His shrugging is convincing, but maybe it's the smile that gives it away, amused and entertained by Jungkook trying to convince Namjoon. Trying to convince himself. 

“Yah!” He slams his hand on the table and Namjoon can’t hold his giggling anymore. “I work out! I’m fit!” The exasperation on his voice only makes him sound whinier and only exacerbates Namjoon’s cackling. “I’m serious.” 

“I know! That's what makes it so funny.” There isn’t a speck of malice in Namjoon’s voice, only an endeared warm smile. “When was the last time you went to the gym, Jungkookie?” 

He presses his lips into a thin line, freeing Namjoon from the grip the younger’s pout has on him. “I was gonna go today.” Jungkook says instead, avoiding the question. But Namjoon is pleased nonetheless. 

He can’t help the way his eyebrow raises. 

“You’re free to come!” Jungkook offers, shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth in the process. A grotesque image that shouldn’t affect him the way it does; the frustratingly familiar clenching of his stomach. He sets both hands onto the table and rises, giving Namjoon a full view of that protruding stomach. Jungkook grabs his dish and his half drank milkshake and walks to the sink. His eyes follow, seeing him set the plate into the sink and rather finishing to gulp down the rest of the shake right then and there. Urgently chugging it and giving Namjoon the profile of his rounded belly; that pushes further and further outwards with each thick swallow. 

“I’d like that.” His response comes a little absentmindedly. But it's rewarded nonetheless with the way Jungkook nearly chokes mid-gulp. Downing the entire protein shake in record time before he sets it into the sink as well. The bottom of his belly nearly brushed the counter. 

“Be serious.” He deadpans, turning to him.

“I am!” Namjoon beams at Jungkook’s exasperated expression. “I’m deflating a little!” He tries to sound innocent in his whine but the younger just scoffs. “I need tips from the bulking master!” Even that blatant stroke of Jungkook’s ego isn’t enough, and maybe it has something to do with the endeared indulgent giggle that slips off Namjoon’s voice at the end. He can’t help it, ok?

“Fine. Just get dressed.” Namjoon grins and stands up. Time to dust off his running shoes. Knowing Jungkook’s pout will dissipate by the time he is rushing to the entrance with him. And he is right. There's a certain air of confidence to his smile as Namjoon approaches him.  

“You have been looking a little noodle-y lately.” He purses his lips eyeing Namjoon up and down. 

“I think you're just getting thicker.” His finger pokes his chest and lets it sink into the padded muscle, smiling knowingly. 

“Get off me.” Jungkook swats his hand away, rolling his eyes. “That just means my bulk is working.” They walk to the younger’s car. 

“You were right, my brand was the perfect opportunity to start a bulk.” He comments idly as they get to the car. You’d think being so familiar with the sight of Jungkook’s thickened side profile would stop affecting him as much. Maybe it would if Jungkook stopped growing sometime soon. “Don’t you eventually have to cut, though?”

“Look at you, using gym-bro terms.” The younger giggles, eyes on the road. “And not necessarily.” He shrugs. “I mean if I want to stay a beefcake like this. Then no.” 

Namjoon can’t help the choked snort he tries to stifle. “I don't know that one.” He looks at Jungkook with a smile and a bit widened eyes. “ ‘Beefcake’ ” He makes air quotes around it and everything. 

“A hunk that's big and can lift a ton.” He eyes Namjoon with a smug grin. “ I’m a beefcake.” 

“Don’t you have to train to lift a lot?” His lips purse asking innocently, even a sneaky chuckle makes its way past him. Earning him an eye roll from Jungkook. 

“You’ll see.” There isn't an ounce of doubt in his voice, smiling cockily at Namjoon as they approach the gym.

Nothing could’ve prepared Namjoon for the sight. 

“Are you in a weightlifting class?” He asks a little widened walking further in. 

“No, I like doing things at my own pace.”  

He trails behind Jungkook stunned as he looks around. The gym isn’t empty, but not crowded like he had expected. It is , however, full of… what did Jungkook call himself? 

Beefcakes. 

Buff and sturdy men and women, distant grunting and groaning, sweat stained clothes, the smell of effort filling the air faintly. Shirts that rode up their hips, belts that sunk into the thick padding of their waist. Namjoon flet miniscule just following the younger to an empty corner. 

“So are you actually going to work out or do you just want me to prove you wrong?” He glances over his shoulder, snapping Namjoon from his trance. 

“I think I’ve succumbed to my deflation, and I'll just have to hang around while you do your thing.” He shrugs with the fakest innocent smile. “You know, like you always do...” There's something deeply satisfying about finally cornering Jungkook after all these months of being tormented by his unimpeachable bulking. Namjoon crosses his arms looking quite pleased with himself. 

“Right.” Jungkook responds courtly, diverting his eyes from Namjoon’s knowing gaze. And back to the weight rack in front of him. Walking towards it solemnly, letting the older enjoy guilt-free at the slight jiggle that shows from the tightness of his gym shorts across his rounded ass. 

“No warm up?” He interjects once the bar is already set above his broad strong shoulders. Has it actually been that long that Jungkook forgot the way a workout usually goes? Namjoon doesn’t want to ponder that thought. But it's impossible when Namjoon looks back actually widened. As if his facade showed the first crack. 

“Yeah- yeah of course.” He even has the audacity to scoff. “Just thought if I got this over with you’d go home already.” 

“That's true…” His lips pursed. “But I’m not gonna be able to get you off the ground when you strain a muscle for squatting without warming up.” Namjoon is no gym rat, but he’s hung out around enough of them to know: always warm up. He hears a quiet ‘ugh’ as Jungkook turns back to face him. 

“Only because you're so lanky.” Jungkook feels the need to clarify, walking past the older towards the (honestly quite abandoned) treadmills. That cocky smile once again spread across his face, Namjoon is just glad to see him so confident in his shape. 

Ever since his roommate yielded himself to gym culture it felt like he was constantly reaching for something he couldn’t achieve; even with the Adonis body he once managed to maintain. He doesn’t know if it's actual confidence or actual over-compensation. But either way, Namjoon feels guilty warmth spread across his cheeks. This thickened, hefty, confident Jungkook was a sight for sore eyes; even in a room filled with Namjoon's walking wet dreams. 

Though something much, much deeper in Namjoon. Something impossibly more guilty than his desires for the younger… he wants to put him in his place. To show him he isn’t the strong hunk he’s deluded himself to be. The sinister craving that pretty much got him to this place; just out of morbid curiosity of what would happen when Jungkook's perception of himself crashes with the reality of what his body has become.  

“Hoseok will be so proud to hear you’re actually doing cardio.” He giggles and actually goes to the treadmill next to him, just in time to catch the roll of Jungkook’s eyes, his soft smile the only indication of him not actually being that annoyed at Namjoon’s company (which is a relief, them living together and all). “Don’t give me that look, you’re the one saying cardio has no place in bulking!” 

“You’re joining me?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. 

“It's a treadmill, I think I can handle it.” It's Namjoon’s turn to roll his eyes. Jungkook can only shrug as he turns it on, and if the older’s eyes follow the buttons his finger presses to then do the same… It's just pure coincidence.

Jungkook starts to walk and there is a certain grace to him. Stomps stronger and more imposing than he ever imagined the younger could be. As if walking belly first into adversity, the round dome bouncing as one in rhythm to each step. Only able to see proper jiggle in the naked skin of his arms, and rounded chubby cheeks. If he notices Namjoon’s side-eyeing, he pretends not to; staring straight ahead with a furrowed brow that screams determination. 

It's convincing enough that Namjoon for a second wonders if he really will be proven wrong today. If Jungkook is completely in tune with his body and his strength and wasn't bluffing when he called himself a beefcake. 

Though he quickly discards that idea… when Jungkook escalates into a proper trot. 

Concerning, is what Namjoon should probably be thinking. Hearing and even feeling Jungkook's light jogging before he even turns his head to look. The sound of the poor treadmill succumbing to each heavy stomp; with vibrations on the floor to match the grandiose fall of his full weight with each stride. The slight sound of his bottom roll rising and falling against his navel, accompanied by the chorus of agitated breathing. Through his parted lips he takes mouthfuls of air in an attempt to keep up with the pace that his sedentary lifestyle had gotten so alienated to. 

Namjoon makes the mistake of looking then, you know, out of concern… 

His body jiggles more than the sound gives away, rippling waves shake through his entire pillowy padded body; despite the tender muscle underneath. Though his belly bounces in heavy unison, fat only wobbling in waves when it crashes against his navel. His face is tinted an increasingly darker shade of red, that glistens under the thin layer of sweat he’s started to develop. Hair even curls as it dampens. Jungkook’s intense stare into the horizon looks a lot less intimidating now, almost a little helpless as his cheeks puff out with every exerted inhale and exhale. 

Maybe Namjoon shouldn’t judge. He hasn’t moved on from his friendly walking-pace. But he never told Jungkook to run. And if this was some sort of attempt to prove the older wrong, it was failing immensely. A voice in his head tells him he should let the younger to watch himself… But a bigger, more reserved part of Namjoon just wants to see how long he holds this up. And he is immediately rewarded when not even a full song plays from the gym speakers before he is turning down the pace. 

“O-Okay… Let's get started.” Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the absolute gasps for air he needs to speak. And it would be futile for him to even try; especially after Namjoon saw his pathetic attempt at jogging.  It was an extremely short warm up; but he can see it doesn’t take long for JUngkook to get warmed up.

And any type of warmth Namjoon himself is feeling… Well those are for all the wrong reasons. But he manages to nod and follow Jungkook to the racks. Big hand pressing to the side of his belly, as if his spleen was strained from that short sprint…. If Namjoon could even call it that. He is still out of breath when he starts loading up the bar. 

Shirt riding up even more as he grabs each thick disk with surprising ease and slides it in. Though from the front Namjoon can catch the small wet patch on the center of his belly, sweat already making an attempt to cling the poor tank top to his fatty middle. Namjoon can't even imagine what it must be like sinking a bit into his folds. How sweaty he must be already. 

“I don’t think I can join you in this, though.” Namjoon manages to chuckle, even if secretly hoping Jungkook is too focused catching his breath to notice the way the older’s eyes follow him like a hawk. “That's like twice my weight.” There is a certain awe to his voice, he’d never guess from looking at Jungkook’s fattened body  that he’d be able to lift this much weight. And that slight admiration, the younger is able to catch onto. Smiling confidently, reddened face and all, as he leans a bit of his weight on the rack. 

“And you think the bulk isn’t real.” Oh, Namjoon thought the bulk was very much real. “Watch till I squat this.” 

He can’t help but take Jungkook’s confidence as a chance to let loose. “ Please , prove me wrong, Kook-ah.” Namjoon’s own confidence shines through his smile; crossing his arms over his chest as he stands back. “Do your magic.” 

Confidence looks really good on Jungkook, he finds. Obliviousness of course did a number on Namjoon, having to exist in the same space as his roommate who ended up waddling up to his room instead of out to the gym to work out. But something about seeing him so sure of himself… His stomach churned in anticipation. Where he could totally believe Jungkook pushed a little running stunt to try to prove a point (and failed), Namjoon knows he wouldn't just overload the bar with the chance of injuring himself. 

He admires Jungkook positioning himself under the bar, pushing the waistband of his shorts up and tugging the front of his shirt down. Metal bar sinking a bit into the padding on his shoulders as he grabs it from each side. Anyone could tell this isn't his first time. 

But the smile that Jungkook throws over is shoulder, confident and boyish; the chub under his chin pressing to his shoulder… That's what tells Namjoon Jungkook is more than capable to do it. 

Even from behind, you can see the way Jungkook’s entire middle squishes into itself. Rolls pushing out further at his sides, belly pressing to the top of his thighs; Namjoon can see it from in between his thick thighs. Though it's only an absent minded thought, it's hard for him to focus on anything else with the way his as stretches menacingly the seams of his gym shorts. Elastic fabric tightening helpless against the push of his ass. Jungkook grunts when it's time to rise back again, but Namjoon can practically hear the shorts sigh in relief. 

“How many of these do you have to do?” He asks, just to hear the state of Jungkook’s voice. 

“I can do about 6 at this weight.” It's not so much breathless as it is strained, Namjoon catches the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders, though; he isn’t fooling anyone. Jungkook lowers himself once more as soon as he is done talking, not even giving the older time to process the effect Jungkook’s voice has on him. 

He can’t help but wince at the sight of the shorts, the fabric seems to thin out with each squat. “I got it.” Jungkook breathes out as if the weight were remotely close to what namjoon was worried about. 

“I know… It's just so much.” He forces himself to respond, beginning to walk around the heavy lifter. And even if he didn’t mean it too, Namjoon’s words still manage to reveal a bit more than he’d be comfortable with. His amazement and breathlessness come through no matter what he’s actually talking about. 

It doesn’t help that as he turns, Namjoon catches the perfect sight of Jungkook’s profile. Admiring the way his shirt rode up without him knowing, letting him perfectly see the gym shorts that sink into the bottom of his belly, cutting into it as the elastic has no more give to it. The way not only his belly squishes against his thighs but pushes forward too. Taking impossibly more space on his lap than when he sits down. Namjoon also gets to admire that faint chub that only seemed to thicken his waist, turning into rolls as he reaches down; before it smoothes back up when he lifts the bar again. 

If Namjoon is supposed to be keeping count, they’re screwed. 

“Not for me…” Jungkook’s voice is actually starting to sound out of breath, the deep and sharp inhales making his belly balloon before it sinks back down. Though the slight rasp to it wasn’t present when Jungkook was just out of breath from running. His eyes even meet Namjoon’s, knowing that the older is in his line of sight. It's Namjoon’s turn to have his breath stolen away. 

“I underestimated you.” He confesses with a timid smile. Namjoon truly didn’t count on this outcome. The younger doesn’t have to smile to show his confidence, eyes unmoving from Namjoon’s with a determination that shakes the older up. 

“You did…” Fuck, is that shame creeping up Namjoon’s cheeks. 

“You have been working out less, you can’t blame me!” As to avoid Jungkook’s confident stare he walks behind the rack to face the younger. A bit relieved to see the younger smile and roll his eyes; the tension they created already dissipating a bit. 

“I know what I'm doing, hyung.” The fondness is palpable in his voice, through the breathlessness, through the raspiness. But mostly through his grin, obviously happy to have proven the older was wrong; but being kind enough to not rub it in. A smile of his own spreads on Namjoon’s face. Smiling back to the other as Jungkook lowers himself for another squat, his grunts become a constant choir with his movements as he gets more tired. 

It's that same groaning that makes Namjoon doubt, when he hears a distinct ripping sound. Jungkook’s smile drops, eyes widening as he quietly lifts himself. He doesn’t acknowledge it, Namjoon is not about to comment on it either. 

Maybe he just misheard. Maybe one of the other beefcakes in the room, their shorts ripped.  

Even through the background music of the gym, the silence is thick. Namjoon letting Jungfkook finish his rep in peace. The older trying to convince himself that he’s the one making a bigger deal out of said silence than he should. That the shift in atmosphere is only a part of his wild imagination… 

The same imagination that called ‘pride’ the feeling that took over him when he saw Jungkook being so enthusiastic about eating his food line. That deluded himself about the failure of Jungkook’s bulk. Only willing to admit to it once it was too late. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the heavy slam of the bar being hung back on the rack. With a deep sigh from Jungkook. 

“Let's go home.” Even if the younger didn’t turn around to check himself, or tied a hoodie around himself in, the abrupt ending of his workout doesn't help Namjoon’s suspicions. 

“Already?” He can’t help but question even though he shouldn't.

“I proved you wrong, didn’t I?” Jungkook shrugs simply. Can’t argue against that. 

“Alright.” Namjoon’s confirmation is all he needs before turning on his heel to walk out. 

Big long rip in the center of his shorts, red boxer briefs peaking obscenely. 

Everything in Namjoon wants to scream. To let his hand reach into the big enough rip and feel the sweat of his ass to grope it. To provoke Jungkook into doing something with all that strength. But… the way he sees Jungkook’s ass clench in an attempt to hide the obvious busted shorts, Namjoon finds himself taking off his hoodie, and quickening his step to meet Jungkook from behind.

“Here.” He says simply. Arms wrapping around his whips with both sleeves of the hoodie; feeling the slight dampness on his sides from the sweat. Somehow this feels more intimate than anything Namjoon’s imagination could’ve provided. Wordlessly Jungkook takes each sleeve tying it tight around him. “Nobody noticed.” He reassures quieter, letting his hands pat his hips before pulling away. Forcing himself to, at least. 

“T-thanks, hyung.” Jungkook whispers, face burning red. 

“No one noticed. I promise.” He looks around and believes it, all the other gym goe-ers in a similar sweaty state to Jungkook’s. “It just means your bulk is working, right?” Namjoon can’t help himself, the teasing words slipping out while he is still close enough to whisper them to Jungkook. His heart still rattling inside his ribcage as the adrenaline of what he saw starts to sink in. 

He’ll try not to feel especially guilty about it once they’re home. And he hears Jungkook roam through his closet in a failed attempt to find something that fits. 

Chapter Text

mr.jang: you told him that costs him extra right? 

Namjoon never replied to that text. Partially because he didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, and partially… for something else. 

He felt too mortified to ask about Seokjin’s personal use for a wholesale amount of Enhanced beef. Didn’t want to know how much meat that would be, or how long it would take for Seokjin to work his way through it. The more rational part of his brain reassures Namjoon that people buy wholesale for money purposes all the time; if you have room to stock it, it can be like an investment! But again, a bigger more cynical part of him… fears for the worst. 

It's not like he avoided Seokjin all together, the cook didn’t bring it up; so Namjoon wasn’t about to. He knew his food truck basically skyrocketed, or he guessed so from the job searches he posted. Also that he was looking for another truck! Scaling up is always a good sign. 

Maybe that's why Namjoon convinces himself that if he stops by Seokjin’s spot… it's entirely for excitement for his friend’s success. They’ve all been so celebratory of Namjon’s brand, it's only fair he does the same, right?

His suspicions are confirmed seeing the different look of the food truck restaurant! He happily takes in the view of the multiple added tables. The plastic chairs changed into metal stools. And even if it was early there were some people already eating! 

Namjoon can’t ignore the obvious, though. 

There wasn’t a single skinny customer. Let them be pudgy with a shirt that’s probably still from their starter size clinging to the back of his love handles struggling to not ride up their back; softened thighs threatening to overspill from the small circular bench. Or enlarged to the point their belly sinks into the cold metal table, chubby hand reaching for their back to tug down the shirt that rises enough to show the elastic band of their underwear. Ass and thighs that nearly engulf the poor stool; head hidden as they lean down onto their meal, only the wide expanse of their back showing. Through the background of old rock classics Seokjin is always adamant in putting on a speaker, the choir of ravenous eating fills the air. 

He is assuming, he is staring . Namjoon is quick to scold himself and try to remind himself to stop jumping to conclusions. But it's nearly impossible to not feel like an outsider. The only one able to look at his product from afar, a critical eye stopping him from succumbing like the rest of the world seems to be falling. 

Timidly, he takes steps towards the side of the truck, knocking a few times on the closed door. 

“Order from the front!” There's muffled yelling over the sound sizzling. 

“Is– Is Seokjin here?” He can’t help but yell back.

The truck door opens for him, revealing two fat men practically squished into the small truck kitchen. Sweaty from the constant sizzling of the burgers, chubby backs pressed against eachother. Their profile shows not only the bulging of their stomachs but the way the strap of the apron spinks into their sides. He looks a little widened, though the man who leaned to open the door smiles. “Ah, Namjoonssi!” Minsu recognizes him easily; even if Namjoon’s brain clicks in realization. “Hyung is on his break. Didn’t you see him?” He nods towards the tables. 

“He’s hard to miss.” The man still flipping burgers mumbles. 

What?

“Ah, thanks guys.” Namjoon nods, closing the door for them so they can keep working peacefully. Though he frowns to himself, he did miss Seokjin. He walks back to the tables, scanning peoples faces. 

No signs of Seokjin. 

Namjoon catches from the far table, one of those fattened customers he had ogled at. Lost in their gorging of the meal, ill fitting shirt riding further and further up the closer he pressed to his burger. 

It can’t be… 

The closer he gets, the louder the gobbling sounds of open mouthed chewing become. Fattened arms reaching for the plethora of containers spread along the small table. Tree-trunk thighs make use of all the free space of the stool as they spread, making room for the heavy pillowy gut that molds to the shape of his lap, and the edge of the table too. 

It could never be Seokjin, years of culinary school have gotten him into a lot of fancy restaurants; where you can’t just gorge like a hog. He’s always scolded Jungkook and Yoongi for their table manners. Namjoon must be undeservingly creeping up on some poor guy. Even if he tries to tell himself that; he continues to take slow steps towards the stranger; struggling to believe even his own excuse. 

“Hyung?” Namjoon asks into the air, not quite daring to turn around and face the gorging man. 

But he doesn’t have to. Because Seokjin is turning around (to the best of his fattened body’s abilities) and grinning at Namjoon. The fattened face of his friend greeting him in return, ballooned chubby cheeks buries his otherwise sharp expression, fat hanging thickly under his chin; completely padding over his jaw. 

As he turns his torso to him, Namjoon can see he has an apron on. Impossible for him to notice with the way the straps are swallowed under the deepened folds stacked on his waist like dough. Or how the small black rectangle does nothing to cover the wide expanse of the wide gut that takes over his lap, and sits on what little space his ass left on the stool. Even if he had a small desperate knot tied at his back, Namjoon was way too distracted with the expanse of milky skin; almost embarrassingly close to showing Seokjin’s asscrack. 

“Namjoon! You didn’t tell me you were coming!” He exclaims gleefully. 

“I was nearby and I thought of paying you a visit.” Namjoon says but is there really any way to keep the conversation about anything besides his friend's gigantic transformation. 

Guess he knows what Seokjin has been doing with the wholesale of meat stock he bought. 

Timidly he takes a seat next to the fat man, getting a proper look at the mess of his table. Already so many empty containers, Namjoon can’t even recognize what was in them; and two burgers to go. 

“You’re lucky you caught me in my break.” He chuckles taking a huge bite of the sloppy sandwich he has clasped in his hand. “I gotta take care of the entire closing shift on my own.” Namjoon would feel incredibly rude for staring, if Seokjin wasn’t putting a complete show for him and the rest of the customers in the scattered tables; though they all seem too entranced in their own meal to mind. 

“Aren’t you the boss? You can rearrange the shifts.” Namjoon eyes the milkshake the older keeps taking sips off, daintily sucking on the straw. As if the mix of sauces, juices and grease from the sandwich weren’t coating the entirety of his face and running in drops down his fattened forearms. Though Namjoon’s eyes go back to the milkshake. 

“I can handle the crowd by myself just fine, thank you.” 

“Never said you couldn't! That's an entirely different sentence.” Namjoon interjects with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“And it's comfier that way.” He says like it's a given. “We are dividing the shifts until I settle things with the truck seller.” Seokjin’s speech pauses to take a big bite of the juicy burger. “Then we’ll work in tandem.” Yet there’s barely any time for him to start chewing before he speaks through a muffled voice. 

So the expansion wasn’t necessarily because of business growth. More like… employee growth. 

“You didn’t order!” Seokjin muses, snapping Namjoon out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized he got so lost in his little revelation. 

“Oh I just wanted to stop by.” He is quick to reassure, waving his hand as if to stop Seokjin from offering some to him. Namjoon has been on thin ice lately. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Namjoon.” If he hadn’t known Seokjin for as long as he has, he would be worried about the scoffing tone of his voice. Whipping his fatty fingers idly on the front of his apron before shoving Namjoon. “I’ll make you something when my shift starts.” Even as he pats the younger’s shoulder, Seokjin’s other hand shoves the remains of the burger past the stretched seams of his lips. Fitting what would conventionally be 2-3 bites into one single mouthful. 

“Do you have any vegan options?” It's been on Namjoon’s mind lately. Not something he’s been able to turn into a reality; not with a fridge that Jungkook made sure to fill to the brim with exclusively Enhanced dairy products.  He’s had his own bit of struggle to resist. Not that he’s lost control any other time! But… Namjoon guesses change can start here.

However, Seokjin chokes mid humongous bite. Hands halting just as he was reaching for the last burger. Giving Namjoon a bit of a heart attack of his own; he’s only practiced CPR on… regular dolls. “Are you vegan now?” 

“Not particularly…” Namjoon can’t lie. Not when he finds himself being the one to let Jungkook know when they’ve run out of most dairy products in the house; since he is the one finishing them. “I’m just craving it.” He tries to shrug it off. 

“You’re weird.” Seokjin states, and Namjoon fully agrees; possibly for completely different reasons. “But sure, I can come up with something.” He rolls his eyes, before taking a juicy mouthful from the burger. “Once my break is over.” Seokjin doesn’t even bother to cover his mouth before speaking, a complete antithesis to the man who explained to Namjoon what order to use cutlery in at fancy restaurants for the scientists' office events. 

Judging by the size of that mouthful, it won’t be long before he is done with his break. 

“You indulge me…” Namjoon smiles, touched. He indulges himself, his mind provides quite unhelpfully. “Hope it's not a travesty.” The collective but friendly teasing of Hoseok's dietary choices lead him to believe that Namjoon will meet the same fate. However, pushing another large mouthful into the seams of his lips Seokjin shrugs, eyeing him up and down.

“You’re looking out for your figure, I get it.” 

Huh? 

“What do you mean?” Seokjin is pushing the last mouthful of the burger in, cheeks too stuffed to actually be able to speak. 

“Aren’t vegan options supposed to be healthy?”

“Yeah…” Namjoon doesn’t get to ask more, before the older is whipping his hand on his apron again and setting both hands on the table, hauling himself up. Protruding bloated belly nearly brushing the containers on the table. The poor apron looked stretched so thin, even if the small rectangle does nearly nothing to cover the bulging expanse of Seokjin’s gut. “Done with your break?” Even Namjoon finds more comfort brushing the older's comment under the rag. 

“Mhm.” He tries to pretend he doesn’t hear the exertion in Seokjin’s voice; let alone phantom the thought that he is breathless just from standing up. “I’ll clean up, let the guys know they’re free for hyung, will you?” Lazily he starts collecting all the empty containers, smiling a bit at Namjoon with the request.

Normally, Namjoon is not a stranger to reject Seokjin form using the ‘hyung’ card on him, since the older never made a point to insert it into his friendship. Clearly only using it when he wanted something out of Namjoon, in a joking enough way for the younger to be able to refuse. But right now… It really looks like those extra steps Namjoon would be saving Seokjin, are crucial. If his heavy breathing is anything to go by. 

So he can only nod and rush towards the truck once more. Making an active effort not to look back at Seokin who most certainly must be waddling towards the bins. Not that the sight of the fattened employees is any easier on his heart when he knocks on the door again. 

“Seokjin will be starting his shift soon!” He announces over the sizzling. Feeling a little grateful the door doesn’t open to reveal that sight again. Though he has to step back to make room for the two fat chefs once they decide to make their way out of the truck. Just in time for Seokjin to waddle towards them too. 

“Take it away, boss.” They chuckle amongst themselves at the sight of Seokjin coming towards them. And seeing two actually fat people make their way around Seokjin, really puts into perspective his friend’s girth. 

He is huge. Even standing next to them. Their aprons still fit, their faces still kept some definition, their clothes didn’t threaten to give up trying to contain their bodies, Soekjin’s hem rising with each slow step. 

“Thanks guys. See you tomorrow.” He passes by Namjoon and has the nerve to even wink at him. “I’ll start with your dinner.” Though that's not enough to stun him enough to ignore the way he squeezed himself through the slim door of the truck. Not even bothering to close it behind him. 

Namjoon tries not to peek. Not to look into what he is sure is the beautiful sight of Seokjin struggling to fit into his own truck. Belly brushing against the edge of the counters, sinking in, pillowy bottom roll molding into the cold metal. If it weren’t for the apron, he is sure Seokjin would be able to feel the cold. Judging by the sliver of thick love handles his shirt struggles to hide along his protruding profile. It looks like such a tight fit, Namjoon can also guess he doesn’t close the door just to allow himself a little bit more room; completely nestled into the center of the truck, squeezed between the two counters. 

It's easy to see now why Soekjin would give himself a shift alone. 

“One vegan seitan sandwich coming right up!” Maybe it's the sound of the sweltering grill, but he swears Seokjin still sounds a bit breathless. Though his hands show no exhaustion, expertly getting to prepare Namjoon’s dinner. Who is really just thankful he has this respectable distance to protect himself in. Or more like, a safe distance to protect Seokjin from his thoughts; more specifically, Namjoon’s ogling. 

Then it starts to rain. 

And for a second, Namjoon considers saying nothing about it. But it's October and Seoul is starting to get a taste of the merciless winter. Namjoon is starting to get a taste of it particularly with the thin sweater he had put on, for what was meant to be a short visit to Seokjin’s. 

“Can I come in?” He yells a bit over the sizzling, the older hadn’t seemed to notice. Only taking a second to look at the quickly soaking Namjoon to widen and nod. 

“Why are you even asking?! Come in!” Seokjin shouts fakely outraged as he gestures with his free hand for Namjoon to get inside. And… hesitating only for a second, he climbs inside; closing the door behind him. 

Perhaps he should’ve guessed, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the scorching hot enclosure of the metal truck; stoves pretty much make the air wavy where Seokjin flips burgers along with his seitan one. Seokjin doesn't seem that prepared for it either, skin already glistening with sweat, fat drops running down the side of his face, following the dent of his double chin, cheeks already a little reddened with a mix of exhaustion and heat. Namjoon is really only a few centimeters away from the chef, and he does his best not to let how cramped he feels show. But he’s always been a bad liar. 

“Ah… Sorry about the space.”  He chuckles, and for a second Namjoon widens at the possibility of self awareness. Unable to differentiate a blush from the tint of heated skin.  “The food truck life isn’t the most glamorous.” Nevermind. Namjoon can’t help but snort. 

“Don’t worry. You’ve never been to my office.”

“Please, I’m a mess because I'm a victim of circumstance. You're a mess because you can’t clean up after yourself to save your life.” It's Seokjin’s turn to snort, smirking jokingly at Namjoon who giggles back. 

Is Seokjin a victim of circumstance from being in the truck, a naturally smaller kitchen space? Or is he a victim of circumstance for getting fat, a victim of the addictive Enhanced products? Namjoon doesn’t know. Not that it matters, because even through his chuckles, Namjoon’s gets a bit distracted following Seokjin’s hands. Slamming fat slices of enhanced cheese onto each thick patty, except his own. 

He doesn’t remember there being cheese in the last seitan sandwich he had, but he never considered that it was an option. Namjoon speaks before he can stop himself. 

“A-actually, could you add cheese to it?” Even over the loud sizzling, the silence that hangs over them and the smile that grows on Seokjin’s fattened face, is very knowing. Accusing even. Quietly cutting another fat slab of creamy cheese plopping it onto his decreasingly healthy option. 

“Of course, Namjoonie.” He purrs somewhat jokingly. “Glad you reconsidered.” He can’t help but roll his eyes, unable to recognize any sign of ‘giving in’. 

“It's not like it will change the flavor that much.” 

“Just like it wouldn’t change your health that much.” 

Neither of those statements feel genuine… Not to Namjoon at least. He busies himself admiring the way the bottom of his belly drags along as Seokjin skillfully moves along the cramped kitchen, his huffing breath becoming loud enough to take over the loud choir of greasy frying sounds. Chubby hands squirting hearty amounts of mayonnaise onto the buttery buns. 

“I said just cheese.” Namjoon deadpans, jokingly. And it's worth it for the innocent bright grin Seokjin offers him; like a kid getting caught in the middle of mischief. He doesn’t doubt for a second that it's exactly that. 

“If you’re not going vegan why hold back with everything else?” The giggling at the end of his sentence is so giddy. Like he is excited from just getting to make Namjoon a proper tasty meal, even through his breathlessness. The increasing temperature of the stoves only making it worse on the fat man. Namjoon feels hot too, though he can’t excuse himself due to the heat. 

He can blame the patch of sweat that peeks from the roll of Seokjin’s moobs. That Namjoon can only get a proper glance at since his apron is so ill-fitted anyways. He can imagine a similar patch in the middle of the wide softened expanse of his back. Or right in the center of the protruding belly, his profile girthy enough for the bottom of his belly to press to the counter, and the crest of his ass to brush against the counter opposite to it as well. Pretty nestled in there. 

Namjoon can only imagine what it must’ve been like for someone to work with Seokjin in the small kitchen. How long it had been before he realized he was too big to share; specially to share with another fat person. If not even that moment, was enough of a realization for Seokjin to realize the severity of his heft. Or if it had been his other coworkers the ones to propose it, suffocated in the claustrophobic truck, squeezed against all of Seokjin’s padding. Soft, but engulfing, trapping you in. 

“Namjoon.” His voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts. Heart halting at the sight of Seokjin tightly making his way towards him, hand reaching out. “Pass me the boxes for these orders please?” His chubby finger does a circling motion. “Behind you.” It only took a few steps for Namjoon’s torso to graze the front of Seokjin’s stomach. Not even leaving Namjoon much room to turn without pressing on the pliant malleable fat of his belly. 

“Oh yeah uh…” He tries to twist his torso to the best of his inflexible body’s abilities; flailing arm trying to reach for the little cabinet behind him. Squeezed into his little nook of the truck so tightly, he can feel his shirt begin to shift and rise up his torso with the movement. 

“Quite stuck in there, huh?” There’s only humor in his voice, as if Namjoon was the sole reason for his tight fit. Seokjin gets impossibly closer to him, right into the small nook with him. “I’ll get it.”

Namjoon freezes, widening as he feels that damp, pliant, pillowy mass press and mold right against his torso. Feels the slightest skin on skin contact form where Seokjin’s shirt lifts at the side, and Namjoon’s has shifted upwards with his twisted torso. 

Warm. Seokjin’s skin is warm, and moist with sweat, right along the sliver of his bottom roll exposed by the small apron. But it's not just that shred of skin, the entire heft of his belly is pressing closer and closer to Namjoon’s rigid body. Stomach sagging down enough over the waistband of his pants that it covers the younger’s crotch entirely. Seokjin’s face so close to his ear as he leans behind Namjoon's hand reaching blindly for the containers, the older’s heavy breathing brushing right against his ear. Warm, everything about him is warm. 

It feels like an eternity stuck there, between the end of the counter and the corner of the truck. Feeling the heft of Seokjin’s body shift painfully slow and breathless against his body, against his dick . 

“Got them!” Seokjin beams, and tries to step back. 

Then he tries again. 

And a third time after that.

“Ugh…” He presses his hands at either side of Namjoon’s head against the wall, engulfed by the light smell of sweat that mixes with the grease, salty and musky and gross. Though Namjoon impossibly tries to press further against the wall in a meek attempt to hide the way his dick twitches. Though it's futile against the way Seokjin’s body wobbles trying to push himself out. Bottom roll slapping against Namjoon’s crotch. “Fuck okay let me…” His own sentences halted by his huffs of air. 

“Who's pretty stuck in now?” Namjoon can’t help but retort, eyes following Seokjin’s hands as they reach for the edge of the counter; where the side of his belly is pretty sunken into, fat engulfing the steel almost entirely. He knows he shouldn’t tease, not when Seokjin is in full ability to mention the not so subtle twitches of Namjoon’s cock. 

But regardless…  Seokjin blushes. 

“I–I told you I was looking for a bigger truck!” He whines breathlessly, as if that was enough of an excuse to keep Namjoon on something close to a chokehold. Fat and heat suffocating him slowly inside the oven that is this goddamn truck. The effort in his voice is palpable, just like the few drops of sweat that adorn the side of his red fat face. Grunting in effort, before Namjoon’s hands instinctively go to his waist. A feather’s touch knowing the slightest pressure would let them sink into the thick rolls that stack at Seokjin’s side. 

But it's a useless attempt once Namjoon begins to push too. Fingers sinking into the depth of the folds the apron is too small to cover. Fat molding pliantly to his hold obscenely as he begins to grunt too. 

Once upon a time, Namjoon had been strong. Maybe then this would’ve taken only a second. But it took a lot of sweat and effort before Seokjin popped out with a surprise gasp; breathing heavily as if he had done any of the hard work. The air tense with silence form the now quieted stoves and fryers. 

“J–Joon-ah… Get these out for me? I’ll– I’ll give them to you on the window.” 

Namjoon’s own mind is clouded with the lack of air in this truck, hazy and jittery with the adrenaline of what had happened. He nods wordlessly. 

“Yeah… Yeah of course.” 

Only once he is outside does he notice the rain has stopped. But even if he hadn’t there would've been no way for Namjoon to join Seokjin inside again to eat his own dinner.

Chapter Text

As he naturally found his footing with all the newfound free time he now had, Namjoon hasn’t been on social media much. Aside from the groupchat with his friends, he found everything else a bit overwhelming. Namjoon felt particularly at peace in Kakao, without the constant noise and only the stilled, unchanging, images of his friends’ profile pictures. 

He wouldn’t want to go into social media and see something he’d be better off not knowing. And that can mean anything from conservative talking points, to unpromising news about the world and its catatonic state... 

Or any of Jimin’s posts. 

He saw what morbid curiosity had gotten him into last week. Namjoon can still taste the oily cheese in his mouth if he concentrates hard enough. Or worse yet, can feel the pillowy dampen expanse of Seokjin’s body pressed against his own; caging Namjoon in, rendering him useless. 

Maybe it's as a distraction from his thoughts that he reaches for his phone anyways. Opening twitter despite it being a historically unrewarding experience. 

‘pjmfitness’ appears right at the beginning of his timeline. How could it not? After many years of being an advent follower. 

pjmfitness : hi everyone!! this monday it will be 5 years since i posted my first video! i thought we could celebrate with a livestream!! join me on instagram tomorrow! 

Great. Now Namjoon can’t not join without feeling like a neglectful unsupportive friend. 

Even if the livestream had only been announced a day before, Jimin had enough relevance to garnish a quick response from his followers. Namjoon noticed as he skimmed through the replies. Though… he also noticed a shift had happened in Jimin’s demographic. 

The influencer never shied away from describing he mostly catered to young women, most of them into fitness and ready to better themselves with Jimin’s advice. And while there was still some of that, Namjoon caught sight of a lot more… anonymous accounts. With vague usernames and only body profile pics. All of them seemingly excited to see Jimin’s live.

That's one way to put it. They’re thrilled. They sound like the worst of all the thoughts Namjoon is trying so desperately to repress. 

He is quick to put his phone back in his pocket. Not finding any relief in seeing like minded people that see through the changes happening around them; and enjoy them too. Namjoon is nothing like them. 

These people are creeps. Sadists that enjoy what Namjoon can only assume is his poor friend’s oblivious descent into weight gain. Possibly costing him his career, not to mention his mental health. 

Namjoon could be the one to tell him. The one to make Jimin snap out of it… 

But then again, he’ll have to check the livestream to see if it’s really as bad as he is assuming it to be. Maybe what he witnessed from the younger the last time Namjoon was over was just a little slip out. He is sure Jimin is fine. 

That's the thought he tries to remind himself of as the time of the livestream nears. His stomach twisting in both anticipation and dread no matter how many times Namjoon repeats himself. Constantly checking Jimin’s profile in the concealed hope of finding an update of the livestream being canceled; Jimin’s wifi breaking down, or him confusing the anniversary date. 

Anything to spare Namjoon from this agony.

But the inevitable ‘live’ outline surrounds Jimin’s old but iconic profile pic. And flinching slightly, he clicks on it; already preparing himself for the worst. The set is different than it had been when Namjoon was there, but it's still familiar. It's Jimin’s kitchen; but he doesn’t get to feel the familiarity. There's no sight of Jimin. 

The comments are already sprouting up, Namjoon finds himself too jittery to concentrate on reading the endless stream of words. Scanning the room in anticipation. 

“Can you guys hear me well?” Jimin's voice comes from behind the camera, followed by a string of giggles. “Hello yeorobun.” His melodic voice is already soothing to Namjoon’s very stressed nerves. Jimin’s laughter is the cure for anything and everything. You can tell he’s reading the comment behind the screen. “There’s enough of us, right?” 

Namjoon merely glances at the number widening to find 236k people are here already. He can’t help but ponder if it had been that many people who’ve seen Jimin stuff himself with Namjoon next to him for that very brief livestream. 

With the abundance of ‘yes!!’ that spring from the chat. He speaks again. “Okay okay.” There’s always a chuckle attached to the end of his sentences. “Let's get the party started!” It's only a second after he presumably starts walking around the camera and towards the kitchen that some unsettling comments start appearing. 

oh lawd he coming.

make way!

is it me or is the camera shaking?

Few and far between, they made Namjoon’s gut twist in discomfort that he is able to push to the back of his head. 

Until Jimin appears on the screen, the knot in his throat tightens, all the air fleeting Namjoon’s lungs unable to breathe back in. Staring in awe at the man on the screen. 

With heavy steps Jimin waddles into frame. The rippling jiggles of his expanded body visible even through the small screen of Namjoon’s phone. Face rounded beyond recognition, with fat that hangs from his once sharp jaw onto a thick double chin; it hid the collar of his shirt. But said shirt didn’t leave much to be hidden anyways; a stark contrast to his former entirely oversized wardrobe.

Big gelatinous body coming into frame belly-first. A stripe of light pink skin swaying from side to side in the form of a thick bottom roll. His profile showed the girth of his body obscenely, with rounded plump hips and hefty back rolls that clung to his shirt. His once lithe slim arms stretched the long sleeves of the shirt with a pillowy padding that started to hang over his elbow. 

From his peripheral vision, Namjoon can see the stream of comments become quicker and urgent as Jimin faces the camera into view, the wide expanse of his body taking nearly all the frame’s width. But Namjoon couldn’t bother to read them, not with his eyes zeroed on his friend. 

He had to focus on taking a few breaths, and so it seemed had Jimin. Who clasps his chubby sausagey hands with that same angelical smile; though the slight red tint on the apples of his cheek’s is telling. 

“Happy five year anniversary!” His voice is even more so. Cheerful but so breathless. “I was thinking we could celebrate with just a nice cooking video. Like…” huff “Like old times.” Namjoon hasn’t been the most active watcher of Jimin’s content, but he doubts he’s ever seen anything like this from Jimin. 

But all the comments, they’re acting like this is the most common occurrence in the world. Not an ounce of shame in the comments, as they go off about the fat man who starts rambling about the recipe. About how out of breath he is just looking for the ingredients, grunting as he has to lean down to reach for the cabinets, or stretch his heavy arms upwards and have his shirt ride up the back of his thick love handles. 

He doesn’t give himself time to restrain, instead keeping the phone in his tight grip as he rushes to close the door and grab his computer and headphones. Namjoon needs to see this as well as he possibly can. It's desperate and shameful, the way he is clumsily plugging them onto his laptop and nestling onto his pillows with his computer on his lap. But it's worth it for the loading image of Jimin’s livestream revealing him mid-way through getting the phone off the tripod. 

Fat face pouty and blushed with effort, as his swollen arms take up most of the frame, reaching towards the phone from the front. But they aren’t fat enough to hide the way Jimin’s hefty overhang sits naked on the cold counter, pliant perfectly set on the table, shifting slightly with all of Jimn’s hard efforts. Efforts that also come through in the way his close face breathes heavily, grunting and huffing into the mic; directly into his earplugs. 

The chat seems to love it. 

Namjoon loves it too. 

“Freaking…” He whispers under his breath. Reminding Namjoon of the endearing fact that Jimin tries really hard not to swear on camera. A complete lie from his real self, if Namjoon’s 3 years of shared classes, and nearly 7 years of friendship have anything to say about it. It makes him chuckle a bit, even through the uncomfortable twitching of his dick under the laptop. 

Jimin manages to get it out smiling pleased at the camera, still smug and confident as ever. “There.” His eyes almost completely disappear when he smiles. And with his face so close and the bigger screen he’s watching on, Namjoon can truly appreciate the way even the fat on his face ripples with each word Jimin speaks. “Wanted you guys to see a close up of my cooking.” From this low angle, his double chin takes over most of the frame. 

Cooking isn’t the only thing they’re getting a close up of. Not with the first person angle Jimin gives of his wobbling body when he turns the camera back around. Tree-trunk thighs stomping slowly through his apartment. If Namjoon had been patient enough to connect to the bigger monitor, he’d be able to tell if Jimin’s feet have gotten more swollen too; or if that's just his imagination. Not that this thought has time to stay much longer in his mind, with the rhythmic slapping of Jimin’s overhang against his navel with each slow step towards the counter. 

His grip of the laptop tightens, pushing it a bit harder against his lap. In a pathetic attempt to scold himself, the coiling heat that he feels around his tummy. “Okay so let's start by cooking our–ouf- our pasta. I’ve had the water boiling for a bit.” He chuckles a bit showing the boiling pot. Even through the bubbling water his consistently deep breaths can be heard throughout. 

“You guys now I hate waiting.” He adds and it feels like an inside joke of some kind; knowing yet coy. Namjoon doesn’t let himself ponder on the meaning for too long. “I’ll start with the sauce instead!” Even as he moves, the way his belly molds into the counter and drags along with Jimin’s heavy footsteps is much more captivating than any cooking. 

He turns the camera around so it rests against the backdrop. And getting a full sight of Jimin again is anything but disappointing, if his dick and the chat have anything to say on it. “I’ve been craving this for a while now, so I’m very excited.” How can he smile so charmingly when the viewers are saying only vulgarities to him. Obscene enough Namjoon doubts if they’re hate comments or… something else. 

Either way, they’re so… encouraging. If they can write these things in public for Jimin and other… 300k people to see. Why can’t he allow himself to be shameless in the privacy of his room? 

Jimin won’t ever find out. 

In a quick scolding, he presses the warm bottom of his laptop tighter against his dick. The sharp edge of the keyboard sinking into the very bottom part of his stomach a bit painfully. Even if it's a bit less stabbing than he’d imagined it would be, not a hard enough punishment. 

Trying to focus his attention back into the live isn’t any better. Now, Namjoon doesn't know a whole lot about cooking, but there's a dreadful realization when he recognizes all the ingredients Jimin is mixing together for the sauce. 

Is this… the same dish he had when Namjoon came on his channel? 

He tries to focus back on Jimin’s talking, instead of the rippling motions of his stomach on the counter as he massages the chicken into the sauce. Chubby fat hands looking almost suffocated in the plastic gloves, the pink overhang of his belly, littered in red stretch marks as it drags against the counter. His heavy breathing comes through his voice just permanently. 

“Why didn’t I eat this if I was craving it?” Jimin was squinting towards the screen as if reading the comments, but Namjoon is too distracted with the way his pillowy middle sank into the edge of the counter to read that. His full moobs sagging down just a little bit and pushing his tight shirt down with them, creating a bit of a cleavage. Namjoon must not be the only one to notice since the chat spirals into a mess of obscenities. 

Maybe that's why Jimin chuckles, before leaning back to continue cooking. “Well… I’m not sure, really.” His smile is bashful, and Namjoon is foolish enough to fall for it, in his desperate state. “I was scared if I ate it again, I wouldn’t be able to get enough of it.” 

You didn’t need that pasta to let go, clearly . Namjoon thinks to himself. Though his fingers automatically move to type it out, before he can stop himself. Staring in horror as his words pop on the chat screen, only for a second before they’re swallowed by the rest of the chat. All the perverts with thoughts similar to Namjoon. 

He shouldn’t have done that. He should be defending his friend from this. But… All of Jimin’s wording, it doesn’t feel like he is doing much to stop them. Only seeming to set himself up for ridicule in front of his ravenous fanbase. 

Namjoon knows… Jimin isn’t dumb enough to not notice. What if all he’s done is fallen for Jimin’s bait? 

That doesn’t sound any better. Any less perverted; depraved enough to succumb into the tricks of a loved one who clearly doesn’t need any more encouragement. Namjoon should be concerned for his friend.

“I’m just allowing myself to make it now, you know, since it's a special occasion.” He is moving towards the stove to cook everything. And just by barely moving to the side, a chunk of his side hides away from the frame. But his flirty smile is still noticeable even in the edge of the frame. “And you guys would want to see me happy, right?” His melodic giggles are just as enchanting as they’ve always been; except now Namjoon has the rhythmic bouncing of his body that go along with them. As if to entrance him impossibly more. 

Namjoon would guess Jimin has been more than giving into his cravings, making himself happy. Making his viewers happy. Even his humming as  he starts to cook both the pasta and the sauce are somewhat heavy with what Namjoon imagines is the breathlessness of just standing up. 

This was a fitness influencer. Was. 

Why didn’t you just order in? He comments again, more confident in the fact that Jimin won’t possibly read through the comments. But luck was against him as the younger was huffing and reaching for his phone again, turning the camera to show the pasta cooking in the thick creamy sauce, packs of Enhanced heavy cream scattered around the counter, previously out of frame but now glaring evidence of just how many calories are in the bubbling pot. 

“Oh, Namjoonie.” Jimin chuckles behind the camera. Making Namjoon’s gut twist, feeling exposed. Caught in the middle of a dirty dirty act. In the back of his mind only grateful it was this comment he pointed out and not his precious one. “I like my cooking better!” He chirps so happily, it's only soothing until he speaks again. “I can really make sure of what's going into my plate, you know?” 

A few months ago, Namjoon would’ve understood that sentence for a completely different reason. Now it just seems like Jimin is finding ways to make a dish as caloric as it can possibly be. 

Oh I can tell . He holds back from commenting this time, feeling weirdly naked in the eyes of Jimin. Whose arms must be getting tired of holding the phone above the pot, as the  angle changes to what seems like his hands resting on the crest of his belly. Showing the sunken bottom half of it, only for a moment before switching back to the front camera. 

He is sure Jimin would’ve rather deleted his entire social media than to be shown from the angle he was choosing to show himself in right now. his wide chest taking the entire frame. The outline of his moobs obscenely visible through his tight shirt, heavy double chin completely pressed against his chest as he stares down at his phone. Though Namjoon doesn’t imagine it being that much better when his face is angled somewhere else. And wide smile making his face only exceptionally rounde; the heat of the stove and the overall exertion of cooking making the round apple of his cheeks bloom red. 

“Almost readyyy.” He wiggles his eyebrows cutely but suggestively. Before his plump pouty lips turn into an ‘o’ shape. “Wait, I should probably set the phone up in the living room. I won’t be able to carry both of them.” He mumbles more to himself. Already beginning to take those pathetic slow steps towards the living room. “You guys can wait  a bit right? It will be a second.” He smiles breathily. 

And if Namjoon thought that first frame of Jimin walking in first-person-view was to die for. He wasn’t prepared to see the way his swollen moobs bounced in front of the camera with each step, even his double chin and cheeks jiggling with him. Breathless expression manifesting in the form of a little pout; chest not only bouncing with steps but rising and falling in the form of deep breaths. 

He sets the camera up on the coffee table easily, smiling at the audience from the very corner of the frame; only a fat face coming into view. “Be right back, okay?” 

It's in the clarity of the silence, Jimin’s heavy steps getting quieter and quieter, that it allows for Namjoon to truly concentrate in the throbbing pain of his dick against the warm and hard bottom of his laptop. Only making his shorts impossibly more uncomfortable. Tent, pushed down against Namjoon’s navel; twitching in protest against his every arousing thought. 

You know, now would be the perfect time to leave. 

Jimin saw Namjoon on the live, miraculously. And he certainly won’t notice he’s left. He can go straight for the cold shower and forget this ever happened. 

Already taking the computer off his lap, glaring at the tent in his shorts with resentment, and setting the laptop to the side, that he hears Jimin coming back. Sounding a lot more breathless and heavy than he did before. It compels Namjoon to stay, out of morbid curiosity; curling into himself, hard dick poking his navel as he watches wide-eyed. 

And how rewarded Namjoon’s curiosity was, as the sight of a huffing Jimin waddles into view. Carrying the big metal pot in his shaky fatty arms, the couch’s loud creak in complaint audible even through Jimin’s phone’s mic. The pot forces his thighs to spread to make room to set it down on the couch; Namjoon guesses Jimin’s lap is no good. 

“Alright.” Jimin grins at the camera, the red tint in his cheeks ever present. His width once more taking almost the entirety of the frame. “Now we can start celebrating.” He grunts, shifting his body, as his hand reaches behind him; fat arm nearly unable to reach around his girth. Excitedly pulling out two chopsticks, Namjoon rather not ponder on how weakened his arms have to be to not have been able to just carry those with the handles of the pot. 

He looks so much bigger now than he did standing. Body completely compressed together, tall pot making his belly mold around it, the chub on his inner thighs doing the same as the rest of it pools to the sides, making Jimin impossibly wider. Spine curved outwards the pot making all of the rolls on his sides bulge outwards, his rolls thick doughy. The pot big enough for Jimin’s saggy chest to nearly brush against it; or maybe that's just Jimin’s pecs sagging down an impressive lot. Namjoon can’t tell. 

How could he? When all his attention is consumed by the way Jimin happily sinks his chopsticks into the pot, pulling out a heavy, dripping, creamy bundle of pasta. His plump lips opening wide as if to prepare himself for what is sure to be a mess. The noodles wiggle in the air, some of the sauce dripping directly onto Jimin’s chest, before he tilts his face upwards and shoves the entire mouthful. Only looking back down when just the last few strands of noodles grotesquely hang from his closed lips; cheeks stretched to the brim, making even the most obscene view seem adorable if Jimin is doing it. 

Again, his dick and the chat seem to think in tandem. Much to Namjoon’s distaste. He squeezes his thighs harshly together in punishment. 

Jimin’s delight comes through even through the thick muffling of food in his voice. “Mhm!” He finishes slurping the rest once he gulps down once. It doesn’t even seem like he gave himself enough time to chew any of it. “It's just as good as I remembered.” Nodding his head, cheeks into a permanent pout trying to keep the mouthful contained inside his mouth. “Probably because I had tried using less of everything back then.” He confesses, as if it wasn’t something the entire audience could tell. 

He remembers last time, Jimin was worried that using too much cream cheese would break his caloric deficit. Maybe if Namjoon had done anything to stop him, maybe if he had answered honestly to Jimin’s questions, then he could've prevented this. But he didn’t know back then. Wasn’t conscious of the monster he’d created and implanted on all of his friends. 

Yet… as dreadful of a feeling as it is. Namjoon doesn’t feel proper regret. How could he bring himself to? When Jimin doesn’t even seem done swallowing the gigantic, lip-stretching mouthful before reaching into the pot again. Bigger and messier than the last, noodles reaching the hand holding the chopsticks, sauce sliding down his thick chubby wrist before Jimin shovel’s it down his mouth again.

Namjoon is so enthralled, jaw hanging low as he slowly and unconsciously leans closer towards his computer. Curling into himself, hands inching closer to his staining groin, balled into fists until his knuckles brush the outline of his dick, pressing to his shorts. 

“A-ah…” He whimpers shakily, already so desperate. Struggling so much in his self restraint. In the small thread of integrity he thinks he has. It's beyond his control, really, the way his fingers tentatively grip the bulge; his entire body spasming and shivering in release. 

Once he did it again, Namjoon wasn't able to get enough of it. 

His eyes zeroed on the maddening sight of Jimin’s nearly constant stream of food shoved past his lips, matched with finally some form of ransom. His nerves jittery with pleasure as his hand rubs more intentionally along the curve of his restrained dick. Finally letting go of self restraint as moans vibrate freely from the back of his throat, eyes wanting to roll back from the unconscious edging his put himself through. But no… He wants to see…

Jimin’s heinous eating sounds and heaving aren’t enough; completely quiet and given up on the idea of a livestream. But still holding onto the goal of putting on a fucking show. Looking debauched even from the faraway angle of the camera (the only distance far enough to capture the size of his frame). Drowsy drunk eyes, reddened blush still coming through even through the yellow cheesy mess of his cheeks, chest heaving in the effort of trying to gorge this inhumane amount of food. Namjoon catches him just in time for Jimin to drop his chopsticks idly and let his fattened hand reach into the pot, his cheeks and shirt already a mess of sticky and thick creamy sauce. 

Just like he had done when Namjoon was over. 

The rhythm of his hand grinding against his clothed dick is beyond his realm of control, hips bucking up into the palm of his hand, dragging the wettening patch of cloth right against the sensitive leaking head. He has no control, not in the way his deep delirious cries get louder, to match Jimin’s open mouthed breathing, or the soft burps he’s muffled only with the continuous stream of calories he’s pushed down his throat. 

It's a struggle to keep his eyes open as much as it was a struggle to hold back from keeping his hands to himself in the first place. But his patience is rewarded again, when Jimin tiredly pushes the tall empty pot off its spot on the couch. Giving the audience and Namjoon specifically the full sight of his body. 

The pot had been able to hide just how bloated his stomach had gotten, thick rolls stretched into a single round tubby dome. Thick and heavy between Jimin’s fattened legs. The very bottom of it still clinging to its pillowy softness just underneath his belly button. Shirt long given up on trying to cover the entire expanse of his torso, fitting more like a crop top; letting the thin stream of sauce make it down the swollen curve of his stomach. Namjoon’s eyes easily spotting the contrast, as they travel from the white of the poor tshirt to the slightly reddened stretched skin. Only fucking into his palm quicker. 

Jimin’s fat index finger reaches, with an effort, to the bottom of his belly, catching the little drop making its way, and drags his finger up until the hem of his shirt. Before sensually bringing it to his plump messy lips, that suck it clean. 

And when Namjoon’s orgasm strikes his body, he is unable to catch any of the rest. Groaning as he turns his head into the pillow, closing his eyes in soothing release as he cums with a force that makes his body tremble and his muscles spasm in effort. 

Though through it all, Namjoon has enough conscience to urgently shut the laptop closed. As if to do it quickly enough for no one to notice the way he ran over his own restriction. 

The feeling of lightheadedness clings to him afterwards, making it easy for this slip up to escape his mind. When he does, Namjoon can’t help but ponder if Jimin is aware of it all, of the change in his demographic, if the change in him. That is until he sees a tweet of his a few days later after the stream.

pjmfitness : apparently our anniversary live didn't fit in with the regulations and services at instagram (￣▽￣*)ゞ so i’ll be opening an onlyfans for anyone interested in uncensored content!! link below! 

He’s not just aware. 

Jimin is celebrating it.

Chapter Text

“You have mail!” It's offensive how surprised Jungkook sounds; even in his delighted tone. 

“I get mail all the time.” Namjoon comments from where he was eating on the couch. “So I don’t know where that surprised tone is coming from.” He looks at Jungkook eyes peeking over his book as his hand reaches for the bowl, dipping a chip into the sourcream. 

“Well it's never this fancy.” Jungkook has his glasses on, looking down at the envelope in his hands, resting on the bulging curve of his rounded out gut. It's incredible how unaware he is of it, as taunt as it looks, Jungkook’s hands still sink lightly into it. Double chin extremely visible from not only his profile, but his chin nears his chest; thick and obviously pudgy in contrast to his hefty ballooned self. 

Namjoon is getting distracted. 

“Let me see.” He grunts a bit as he quickly gets from laying down on the couch to standing up. Remembering to dust the crumbs that had started collecting at his chest, as reaches for Jungkook. With an arm draped over the younger’s shoulder, admiring how those calloused but fattened hands delicately opened the envelope. 

“Christian Cowan is pleased to invite Kim Namjoon to discover the summer 2023-2024 men’s collection to be revealed on Thursday, May 4th, 2023, 6PM, KST.” Jungkook reads become more and more puzzled the more it goes on. Turning to Namjoon with those wide eyes. 

“I don’t know any Christian.” He defends himself. 

It takes a google search, to realize its a clothing brand. One that partnered with Taehyung. So he invited Namjoon, not some random Christian. 

“Taehyung never invites me to any fancy events!” Jungkook whines, chuckling. “All I get is texts to show up at Yoongi’s apartment and bother him.” The older can only giggle. 

“I think you just have no class, Jungkookie.” He smiles confidently at the sight of Jungkook rolling his eyes. Who can only scoff as his thumb reaches for the corner of Namjoon’s lips. 

“Don’t say that with sour cream all over your face.” He deadpans and Namjoon can only chuckle nervously. “You can’t have these manners in front of all the fashion celebrities.” Jungkook’s tone is endeared, as if he was one to talk. 

“I learnt them from you.” Namjoon snorted, taking his chance to get a respectable distance between Jungkook and his hands. “Besides… There isn't any food at these things. I’ll be fine.” He has to wipe his hands for the oil and some sour cream to snatch the envelope from his hands. 

“What do you even wear to a fashion show?” Jungkook snorts, following the trail inside kicking off his shoes and swiftly bringing out groceries. “All you wear is sweatpants lately. Do you even have any other clothes?”

“I do, you’re just not worth the effort.” It's only when Jungkook rolls his eyes, that Namjoon bursts into giggles. “I’ll find something.” 

That something ends up being a suit he has to buy and get delivered on the very same night. Namjoon blames entirely his procrastination tendencies. Namjoon didn’t bother looking for what he wore last time Taeyhung invited him to that art exhibition. He knows the younger is observant and attentive enough to notice. 

Namjoon wants to be attentive too! Which means no outfit repeating! 

He looks nice, black can make even Namjoon feel classy and sleek. The sight of him so dapper is enough to lessen the anxieties he feels from going into this event alone, without Taehyung. But once he gets a text from Jimin saying he’s been invited too, Namjoon feels straight up giddy.  

“Have fun at that boring fancy event!” Jungkook yells from his room hearing Namjoon walk away. 

“I’ll tell Jimin you said hi.” He jokes unfazed, grabbing everything and trotting up to Jimin’s car. 

If he feels any anxieties then, they're more about the fit of Jimin in his own car, rather than the event. And those anxieties are proven true when he opens the door to a cramped in Jimin, nestled into the driver seat, fat belly brushing the steering wheel. Chubby and short fingers drumming on the very top of his belly. It's bizarre to see someone who used to be so lithe suddenly take up so much room; and do it so confidently.

“Kim Namjoon is wearing a suit?!” Is the first thing he is greeted with, a squeal form Jimin with a smile so bright his eyes disappear into his cheeks. 

He can’t help but roll his eyes fondly as he climbs into the car. “What's up with my friend group thinking I can’t dress up?!” Namjoon whines, his knees a little high up in the small passenger seat. He finds the leverage to push it back easily, not his first time in Jimin’s car. But with dread he realizes the younger and Namjoon are at the same distance.

Jimin has to push the seat back as far as it goes to fit. 

“Well that’s because we know you, hyung.” He giggles nonchalantly as he starts the car. “I think I saw you wear one to our graduation and that's it.” There's no malice in his voice, just that warmth that comes with everything Jimin. 

“Well I’ll have you know, this suit is brand new.” Namjoon is overly cocky on purpose, thriving in the not-so-warm side eye up and down look Jimin gives him. Of course, the younger looks stylish as ever, despite everything. That's probably why he invited Jimin instead of his childhood friend. Though he doubts Yoongi minds. 

“Oh wow…” An amused smile grows on Jimin’s face. “Tae is gonna be thrilled.” Namjoon can only nod, a bit excited himself. Even if it's still his more-popular-extrovert of the night, Jimin feels a lot closer to Namjoon. “He already gets emotional enough when we come to his runways.” 

“I wanted to show I care!” 

Jimin’s smile loses its amusement when it softens. “Ah, that reminds me, thank you for showing up to the anniversary live last week.” He chooses then to look away from Namjoon and back on the road. “I know it wasn’t much like the ones I did before.” 

He can only stare at Jimin’s profile in a bit of awe. The lack of definition, rounded padding making his neck nearly disappear, a bit of a neck roll creating a bump at his neck. Fat cheeks bouncing with each bump in the road. Trying to figure out what to answer. Namjoon knew that no one could be oblivious enough to perform what Jimin was doing in his livestream and be completely unaware. But he had never prepared himself for the possible conversation that would come from that self awareness. 

Or worse yet, from having to face the memory of him masturbating to said aware performance. 

“Not much like other anniversaries…” Namjoon has to look towards the road too. “That's one way to put it.” He snorts and luckily Jimin doesn’t take it personally, bursting into high pitched melodic giggles. 

“I’m surprised you stuck through it all.” His smile is only a little bit apologetic. But Namjoon isn’t surprised one bit; unamused by his own pervertions. 

“I wanted to be a good supportive friend!” Namjoon whines instead. Which is partially true, the only reason why he succumbed to watching it, was because he couldn’t bear knowing Jimin was doing a special event and not being there to watch it. The younger chuckles endeared, patting Namjoon’s thigh with his fattened hand. 

“Don’t worry, all my stuffings will be happening behind a paywall now.” 

His what?

That word is like a trigger inside of his head. 

“Is that what that livestream was?” Namjoon asks instead, pretending ignorance. 

“The concept is self explanatory, Namjoon-ah.” Jimin deadpans with a chuckle and a bit of a blush. And even if he is right, there’s so much more he wants to ask. When did Jimin choose this as his new niche, how is he even coping with the sudden abrupt transformation of his body, when did his mentality change. 

But Jimin changes the subject, asking about anything else. A conversation to which Namjoon half heartedly participates in. His mind completely elsewhere, lost in the fact that he is sitting next to one of his wildest dreams; if Namjoon would have known his college friend would have picked this path… That bright and lithe, and a little food obsessed nutrition student.

The rest of the ride is a blur before he knows it, they are arriving at the fancy looking venue. And this time Namjoon doesn’t have an A-Celebrity to hide behind. He does, however, have the wide girth of Jimin’s body to use as a shield. Even if he loved his outfit, the sight of all the cameras is as intimidating as ever. But not threatening enough to distract Namjoon from the sight of Jimin getting out of the car. 

Huffing and having to hold onto the door and the edge of the car, as if squeezing himself. No amount of fancy clothing able to make the movement any less ungraceful. Shirts lifting off his back, sitting on top of his pillowy back love handles.  Pants sliding down enough for Jimin to urgently reach and tug them up. Namjoon has to pretend not to notice when Jimin turns around with a bright excited, although reddened face. 

“Let's go!” The older can only smile back, just as giddy and nod. 

The paparazzi would never stop being intimidating. But Jimin, ever confident and smooth, doesn’t seem phased at all. Even if some of the cameras shout his name in recognition, in shock, in demand. Jimin treats them as screams of awe, slowly making his way through the staired entrance. A lot slower than when he walked across the red carpet with Taehyung. 

A lot. 

Namjoon has never been to one of these events. But he can only sigh in relief when Jimin and he make their way to the seating along the runway… Jimin looked relieved too. He was already breathing heavily when they were halfway up the stairs, and never seemed to get his breathing back to normal. The quiet between them not only telling of how comfortable they are with the other, but of Jimin’s lack of air. 

For a brief moment, as they neared the little chairs, Namjoon’s stomach twisted in worry. Weary as Jimin slowly and carefully lowers his heft onto the chair. The older tries to not be obvious in his concerned side-eying. But when Jimin finishes melting into his seat, ass molding and hanging off the sides of it, the consoled sigh they let out at the same time is very telling.

Even if Jimin is sighing for himself, and Namjoon is sighing for the chair. 

A fat hand gently slaps Namjoon’s thigh when the lights begin to lower. They didn’t arrive that early, did they really take that long to make it from the car to their seats? 

“Pay attention.” Jimin scolds jokingly whispering. 

“I am!” He giggles, rather looking at the lightened runway. They’re not on the first row, neither of them is that famous, but they still get a perfectly decent view. 

Decent enough Namjoon has a perfect sight of all the fat models that start walking down the runway. 

He seems as stunned as the rest of the audience. All of them skinny except for Jimin, even Namjoon feels a bit out of place here; as if the miniscule chair was digging into his thighs as well. Only taking a mere second to look at the audience’s reactions, Namjoon can see the shock. 

There’s never been room for fat people in spaces like this, even if the world had started to adapt around them, it wouldn't have gone beyond a fat food truck owner switching the seating for his other fat customers. Something far away from the fashion event up the inaccessible stairs and uncomfy seating that they’re used to. But here they are, forced to stare at bodies they’ve deemed lessen, consciously or unconsciously. Lured to this event with the promise of normalcy, only to be forced to stare at an image that for once doesn't reflect their own. 

Namjoon wishes that was the only thing causing him satisfying warmth across the bottom of his tummy. 

They ooze excess, in the luxurious clothes that cling to their bodies, bouncing along with the jiggling of their confident struts. Hands caressing their curvy body, selling more than just the garment. Opulence, indulgence, they look expensive, unashamed to take up, in some of the bigger models, nearly the entire width of the runway. 

It’s hypnotizing. Going by so fast, only when the line of models start walking one right after the other, making the structure of the runway tremble with their collective rhythmic steps that Namjoon has it in him to remember he hasn’t seen Taehyung come out. Particularly when with a pout looking into the strutting models, Jimin comments. 

“Where’s Tae?” His tone is gentle, but on the edge of whiny. Namjoon is already pulling his phone as applause of the audience roars through the venue, to text the runaway model. 

you : tae, we missed you at the event?? did something happen??

taehyungie<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 : ah… im still in the dressing room, it was nothing. you guys can go if you wanna

“What's with all those hearts?” Jimin asks, peeking over Namjoon’s shoulder, his pillowy gut pooling to the side where it presses against the older’s side. 

“He wrote his own contact name.” 

you : dont be silly we came here to see you! can we go backstage??

taehyungie<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 : …

taehyungie<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 :

taehyungie<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 : …

taehyungie<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 : sure, ill let security know

“Let's go.” Namjoon says standing up easily, and waiting for Jimin to do the same. Most of the crowd is already going out, so it's even more of a struggle for Jimin to waddle his way behind the older. Namjoon restrains himself enough not to turn around and blatantly stare. But the way Jimin’s fat hand reaches for his sleeve in some form of support, the heavy breathing behind him overpowering the loud chatter and background music, and the slight pressing of the front of Jimin’s belly against Namjoon’s back as if leaning some of the weight on him, say enough. 

All it takes is an up and down look form the security staff guarding the backstage door to let them in. Namjoon feels some relief, he was getting worried from the sudden tightness in Jimin’s grip of his hand. A beg hiding behind the action, even if his confident smile doesn’t say the same, as they walk into the backstage. Looking completely at home surrounded with the few fat models that were already packing their bags ready to go home after a long day of work. The place nearly barren by now. 

“Tae-ah?” Jimin asks into the empty place. “Which one is his dressing room?” He is still holding Namjoon’s hands as they slowly make their way around. 

One of the few remaining models, wordlessly points towards a door. A bit of an unamused look on her face. 

With a ‘Kim Taeyhung’ label on the door. 

“Oh.” They both say dumbly. “Thank you.” 

Namjoon leads the way, timidly reaching to knock on the door. “Taehyungie? Can we come in?” He makes sure to keep his tone gentle. Exchanging worried looks with Jimin until they get a response. 

“Mhm.” Comes muffled through the door. Though the timid sound of his voice is not that much more comforting for the other two. Regardless, Namjoon opens the door, Jimin behind him. The sight ahead unlike anything Namjoon could’ve prepared himself for. 

A shirtless Taehyung, sharp elegant expression rounded completely. Pudgy chubby stomach in full display, with rolls that stack from the bottom up, usually small pecs rounded out, perky effeminate. Tan golden skin pulling out from the waistband of his slacks, a tight looking muffin top making the rolls on his sides squishier than they probably are. 

The pants look… really tight actually. Tubby bottom roll pushing the flaps apart and open; zipper all the way down, Namjoon could even see the little metal leaving red marks onto the pillowy chub. But not only that, the seams looked pushed past their limit as they hugged the curve of his enlarged ass, they seemed to dig into the entire length of his fattened leg. Tight enough the poor white slacks were becoming see through, the dents of cellulite showing through the poor satin. Namjoon can assume that his ass is no better, underwear probably showing through easily. Though that can’t be the reason the model is looking at the two stunned men by the door with the biggest puppy eyes and pouty bottom lip. 

Only when he turns from his side to properly face them, that he reveals the gigantic rips at both of his inner thighs are shown. Tan lightly hairy chub poking out almost forcefully, Namjoon can even hear small quiet ripping, as if the fat is actively ripping these pants to shreds. Taehyung must be aware of it too, if his cringing expression with each step he takes to turn around are anything to go by. 

“I couldn’t go to the runway.” He says simply, but his disappointed expression speaks louder. 

Namjoon feels a little too stunned to speak. Even if the fashion line was obviously catered to bigger bodies, Taehyung had grown enough to rip his own garments. He feels lucky that Jimin is there, nudging Nmajoon to the side so he can get through, fatty arms already outstretched. 

“Aish, Taehyungie.” The model’s lip seems to wobble at the mere soft tone of Jimin’s words alone. Already making himself smaller to fit perfectly in Jimin’s arms. “Come here.” He tangles his chubby fingers in Taehyung’s curly locks easily, bringing him for a hug. The model’s and Namjoon’s eyes meet as Taehyung squishes his chubbier cheek into Jimin’s shoulder. Snapping the oldest out of his transe. 

“What happened?” His tone is equally gentle, walking towards the two fat men, rubbing at Taehyung's back slowly. 

“So much for size inclusivity.” Jimin grumbles. Defensively clinging tighter to Taehyung. 

The youngest chuckles a bit, even if his deep voice sounds teary. “No, no, it's not the designer’s fault.” He lifts his head only to smile endearingly at Jimin and turn to Namjoon. “They were custom made. I just…” 

Namjoon and Jimin shared and exchanged looks of understanding. “Don’t beat yourself too hard for it, Tae-ah. I’m sure the designer understands.” Namjoon says, cupping the younger’s chubby cheek so their eyes meet instead. Big and puppy-like, his poor heart

“I ruined his piece.” 

“He should’ve made a piece that fits you properly.” Jimin retorts, still defensive over him. It's a bit endearing. Taehyung seems to think so too, chuckling a bit. 

“And you could’ve walked with busted pants down that runway and next month they’d be trying to recreate them all over the fashion industry.” The oldest says instead, while he still has Taehyung’s attention. 

“Yeah!” Jimin agrees, giving a supportive squeeze to his hands on Taehyung’s waist. 

Namjoon has to force himself not to look. 

“Get changed into something comfy, let's get out of here, hm? Night is still young.” Jimin adds, pecking Taehyung’s cheek. Whose boxy smile is now a permanent fixture on his face, playful as he eyes the influencer. 

“What are you suggesting?” His sultry tone says enough, he is in. 

“I know a place.” Jimin only feeds into the flame with his enticing tone and wiggling eyebrows. 

“More specific.” Namjoon deadpans. Earning giggles from the other two. “I’m serious!” He whines at the lack of response. 

“Don’t you trust me, Namjoonie?” Jimin says through giggles, asif he is self aware that he doesn’t give the oldest any reason to have an ounce of trust. “I’m driving you so you have to come.” He grins bright and unapologetically. 

That's how Namjoon ends up back in Jimin's car, this time with Taehyung in the back. Windows down and music blaring. Jimin refused to answer any of Namjoon’s questions. He can only text Jungkook that he shouldn’t wait to have dinner for him, that the 95’s are taking him somewhere. To which he responds that he is taking it as an excuse to get takeout…

Namjoon is sure they would have done that anyways. But he is happy for his roommate’s choice. 

He looks up from his phone, and they're parking in front of a busy looking club. Entrance surrounded by people, but they didn’t seem to be letting anyone in. 

“Oh exclusive!” Taehyung beams, grin turning giddier by the second. But Namjoon’s stomach twists with a bit of anxiety. 

“Are we sure that I’ll be let in here?” He chuckles a bit nervously. 

“You will with us.” Jimin says confidently. Parking the car as he huffs to get out, the same show he’s put on for Namjoon before the event. Taehyung walks out with the same level of confidence. 

At the previous event, Namjoon would’ve guessed that people started because of their size, the biggest among the celebrities in any room they walk into. But here amongst the common folk, they’re just celebrities. 

Apart from not being the fattest person in line. Line that they’re confidently skipping to walk to the bouncer, who looks like something out of Jungkook’s gym.

What was the word? Beef… something?

It only takes a glance at Taehyung and Jimin as they’re let in, Namjoon scurried as he follows. As if to the other two are wide enough to hide him from the bouncer. Widening at the sight of the exclusive nightclub. 

“I need a drink!” Taehyung announces immediately, taking both of their hands as they follow quickly. Or well… as quickly as Jimin can. 

“I’m driving, Taehyung.” Jimin rolls his eyes even if he is smiling from ear to ear. “Should’ve told me.” The model clicks his tongue as he lets go of Jimin's hand while nearing the bar. Attention turning solely to Namjoon. 

“What do you want?” 

“I uh… Have to be a good co-pilot?” He grins apologetically, partially just to see Taehyung’s excited grin fall into that maddening pout. The one that gets him everything he wants. The one that makes Namjoon think, yeah, he is down for a drink or two. 

“You’re not a good co-pilot sober. ” Jimin snorts. “Pick or I’ll choose something for you-”

“I’ll pick, I'll pick!” Namjoon shuts that idea up quickly. “I want a beer.” 

Taehyung’s pout, only exacerbated by the new found chub on his lips, seems to be at the edge of a whine. Maybe call Namjoon boring or something, but he seems to reconsider. Not wanting to test his luck, he nods before turning to the bar. A cocktail for him, a beer for Namjoon, and a cyder for Jimin.

“Cheers everyone!” Jimin grins and Namjoon obliges. Taking a long swing of his beer. It's truly been a while, he missed it a bit. How easily full it gets him, it takes forever to get him satiated nowadays. Not beer though, Namjoon can feel the fizz already settling deep into his belly. Tummy stretching to press against the soft fabric of his new suit just front he first gulps already. 

The model’s glass already looks halfway emptied. Grinning as he ‘ah’s refreshed. “I knew inviting you guys was a good idea. I was already starting to eat my feelings backstage.” He chuckles, his back against the bar, while his hands hold the class over the small crest of his belly, letting it sink a bit into the chub. He doesn’t bloat as easily as Namjoon, clearly, not with the fat that pads over every inch of him. 

“But it's good you did, I wouldn’t want you drinking on an empty stomach.” Namjoon has to force himself to take Taehyung’s confession as naturally as Jimin did. Who tries as gracefully as possible to set his fat arm on the bar and lean his weight onto it. Namjoon guesses he is giving his poor fattened legs a break, some of his saggy chest resting on the bar, as well as his belly cutting into the edge of the marble counter. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t helping my pants fit any better.” At least now, Taehyung can say it with an easygoing smile. 

“I still think everyone was going to be too busy staring at that face to notice.” His sausage fingers reach to sink at either side of Taehyung’s cheeks forcing a pout out of the youngest. 

“My button up didn’t fit either.” He adds, voice muffled by the squished cheeks. “Think people would’ve noticed all this.” One of his big hands lets go of the drink only to squish and jiggle at his belly. Yes, the clothes Taehyung has on now obviously fit him. But nothing can hide the rippling waves of tubby fat underneath. 

Namjoon takes a particularly long chug of his beer then. Trying not to concentrate in neither Taeyung’s jiggling middle, nor his own ballooning one. 

“Minor details!” Jimin reassures letting go of the youngest’s cheeks. “You would’ve been fine.” He brushes off. “Could’ve played it off as some body positivity, visibility, whatever, thing.” 

“I guess, but that's not what the designer was going for.” His smile turns a bit apologetic. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon contributes for the first time in what feels like forever. 

“Well, he didn’t intend on a plus size collection.” He giggles, like he always does when revealing gossip. “He started to plan the collection last year, and all of his models just sort of… blew up.” That's one way to say it. Taehyung shrugs with pursed lips and lifted brows, as if oblivious to the severity of his own changes, or the reason said changes are happening at all. “Getting skinny models was more expensive than re-doing the entire thing.” 

“That's what he gets for pushing unrealistic body standards.” Namjoon snorts, the only thing he can salvage from everything Taehyung had dumped on him. Going completely haywire behind his eyes. In a time not that long ago, people would’ve said portraying an entire colelciton’s worth of fat models would’ve been an ‘unrealistic representation’. 

“Yeah!” Jimin frowns, nodding; it makes Namjoon’s poor comment seem all that more convincing. Chubby first crumbles the empty cider can in his hand. The older hadn’t noticed when Jimin had managed to finish it all. “Well gentlemen, I should get going.” 

“What?!” Taehyung outright yells, getting the attention of a few people surrounding them. 

“Listen, I love you both very much. But I don’t babysit.” He chuckles and endears at the youngest, patting his shoulder. “You’re in good hands. You and Joonie will have a blast with you.” The side eye Jimin offers Namjoon doesn't leave much room for questioning. A protective look that says: indulge him, he’s had a rough night.

It's almost, almost, as convincing as Taehyung’s pouty look. Staring straight into his soul. 

“Yeah! I’ll take care of you for the night, Taehyungie.” His smile is warm and genuine. Namjoon does want to give his friend a pick-me-up. And he hasn’t gone out in a while. 

And lately, he just wants to feel like everyone else, indulge and be unaware of what only he seems to know. Free himself from the tension in his navel that follows him everywhere. He is pent up. 

He considers it a victory when a little smile grows on Taehyung’s face. “I never partied with you, hyung.” And it feels like a straight up won battle when Jimin gives his back a supportive pat. 

“Text me when you get home.” Is his farewell, bring them both into a hug. Sinking into his body easily, forcing a full body shiver out of Namjoon. When they separate, Jimin’s smiling so bright, he has to force himself to smile back. “Have fun!” He beams, Namjoon swears the entire room brightens and then returns to its normal dim light when Jimin separates. 

The older takes Jimin’s spot by Taehyung’s side against the bar, both of them admiring Jimin’s slow waddles through the crowd. Not even the dark ambient lighting enough to hide the wobbling of his entire body with each slow step. People are already making way for him just from the glance of him. 

Even if silence is always comfortable between them, Taehuyng looks at Namjoon smiling confidently. “I dare you to finish what's left of your beer in one chug.” 

“What are you, 16?” He can’t help but giggle. 

“So you don’t think you can do it?” 

Forever his indulgent partner in crime. Namjoon purses his lips. “Of course I can. It's not even that much.” He tries to look down through the little opening. 

“We do it at the same time, then.” His giddy smile only grows. It must've been a while for Taehyung too, he guesses. Considering Namjoon’s stomach is also twisting in excitement. 

“Deal.” 

It takes a few moments, but when the fullness hits, Namjoon swears he can feel the gas push all his tummy all at once, making it extend in a cartoonish manner. Groaning as he separates from the empty can and crumples it up. Taehyung sets the empty glass on the bar. 

“Another one and we go to the dancefloor?” He wiggles his thick eyebrows and Namjoon can only nod with parted lips, ragged breaths coaxed out of his lungs by the distention of his stomach. Eyes lazy as he watches Taehyung turn to the bar once more and order two of the same. Or at least he thought so, until the model is given a drink of a completely different neon color. And the same tall beer can for him. “Let's go.” 

One of the things he likes about hanging out with Taehyung is how decisive he is. Leading the way, letting Namjoon’s mind take a proper rest as he follows the younger into the mass of dancing shadows. 

Confidence looks good on Taehyung, he thinks. Possibly only realizing it after he saw the model in such a state. But it hits double as hard seeing him make way through the crowd with a firm grip of Namjoon’s hand, uncaring of the way his squishy padding molds to the shape of the people around them. Forcing a spot to be made around the both of them as he starts to dance. Uncaring also of the tight space that practically forces their bodies to be pressed together; drinks close to their chest. 

Namjoon can’t help but be stiff, as Taehyung sways his hips, supple body pressing fully against the entire length of his torso. He can feel how pliant it is against his own tummy, how the weight shifts from side to side as his belly sways. 

“Is this why you never go out?” Taeyung can’t help but snort teasing, taking a lengthy sip of his drink afterwards. “Can’t dance, hyung?” 

“Is it even dancing if we can barely move?” He retorts, having to lean their noses close just to hear each other talk over the bass boosted music. 

“Dancing is a state of mind! Drink some more beer, you’ll get what I mean.” He chuckles as the hand with the glass in hand, nudges at Namjoon’s hand holding the beer. While the other, the one out of sight, snakes around to settle on the older’s hip. Tucked away into the tight crowd where no one can see. 

But Namjoon feels it alright. It sinks a bit into him, firmly urging him to sway in the clear rhythm Taehyung’s fattened body sets against his own torso. Trying his best not to focus on that, he takes a chug of his drink; hips following lazily. It's hard to ignore the warmth Taehyung’s hand spreads through the black turtleneck he felt so proud of wearing tonight. Even if he remembers the model’s hands being big, they feel small against his body. Probably from the tightness he feels just standing on the dancefloor. He feels too big and everything else too small, cramping him in. Pressed against Taehuyng’s body, molding into his fat. 

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He yells, smiling nervously. 

Warm. Everything is so warm. Their bodies squeezed so close Namjoon feels like it's his own stomach molding onto Taehyung’s. Their height similar enough he can feel their crotches pressed together, luckily separated enough by the girth of the model’s stomach. Not that that thought helps him soothe much. 

“Trust me.” A confident smile spreads across his face, round cheeks doing nothing to make him less intimidating in Namjoon’s eyes. Taehyung marks his words by the tight squeeze he gives Namjoon's hip. He can feel the way his flesh gives in, the way he fills Taehyung’s palm. 

The warmth turns into heat, an almost panicky fire that makes his stomach drop. His navel ablaze. Namjoon tries to look down at himself, more particularly at the hand massaging his side. But the crowd is so tight, the room so dark. He can’t see more than flashing lights from the DJ’s stage. Lights that, when he looks up to Taehyung’s grinning face, make him look almost deadly. 

Namjoon doesn’t have to check to know he is starting to sweat. Nerves not only make his sway stutter against Taeyhung’s, but the heat even worse. Taking eager gulps of his beer in a poor attempt to make it better. But the beer fills him more, warms his stomach with a tight stretch that only worsens the fire. The ballooning of his belly made it even more sensitive against Taehyung’s pillowy fat. Enough pleasure for him to have to hold his hips from stuttering forward instead of side to side. 

Now he is sipping in an attempt to distract himself, Taehyung’s arm lazily extending to lay on Namjoon’s shoulder. Caging him in right where he wants him. Too big, too cramped to escape. Reaching for the bottom of the can in search of a buzz to soothe his stammering heart. But as he empties it, all he feels is the dizziness of his blood going straight to his stomach to deal with the mess he’s made. The ballooned skin tingling from the stretch. Blood flow making him just the tiniest bit dizzy. 

Good enough for him. 

“Oh you really wanna turn into a good dancer huh?” Taehyung giggles. Reminding Namjoon that this sort of touchy affection isn’t unusual form the younger. But Namjoon is experiencing so much so new. Petrifying and arousing at the same time.

“I pretty much already got it, what do you mean?” He jokes along, finding solace in Taehyung’s laughter. Finding comfort in the drowsy state the fullness puts him in. Not so much trapped but snugged in, right in Taehyung’s arms. 

“You need more than some sway of hips to make me believe that.” A raised eyebrow accompanies the rest of his sentence. That's where the downside of his state of mind sips in, lowering his defenses. 

“I can give you dancer.” It's Namjoon’s turn to pout his lips, his own now emptied hands sneaking up Taehyung’s neck. Fingers tangling into the messy curls of his nape. The model seemed only delighted by the platonic advances, squealing in glee as Namjoon’s movements became bolder. 

Tangling his legs with Taehyung’s thick ones easily given the effort they had to do to stay apart from one another; looking for that pressure against his swollen stomach as he grinds forward. 

And the consequences of his actions hit him right away, when a wet sounding burp is coaxed up his system. Directly into Taehyung’s face. 

“Oh my god, you’re such a pig.” Taehyung groans, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles. 

The drowsiness is gone, the heat is back. 

The shame is back. 

“I–I gotta go to the bathroom.” He says just loud enough for Taehyugn to lower his head back down and stare at him a bit widened. 

“Oh… I’ll go with you.” 

“No! No, it's... It's fine.” He nods quickly before trying to scurry away into the crowd. Taehyung made it look so much easier. Namjoon can feel the way his body has to twist and mold into everyone. 

Big, big he feels so big. 

It only makes his breathing harder, that and the swell of his stomach coaxing the air out of his lungs in sharp exhales. Each clumsy step he takes pushing through the crowd feels like making his bloat bounce painfully in unison. Reaching with his hand to cup it as he finally gets the cold air to hit his sweaty skin, away from the crowd and directly to the bathroom. 

Once he is inside the bathroom, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Combing through his hair and pacing around. He didn’t have to go, he knows that. But he needed to get himself to stop feeling… whatever that was. It was too much too suddenly. His heart is still racing as he lowers himself over the sinks; ballooned stomach sloshing and weighing him down as it sags. And scrubs his face clean. 

Taehyung bursts in then. Reminding Namjoon of everything he’s trying to suppress. 

“Are you okay?” He can see his worried expression in the mirror,  their eyes meeting. “You abandoned me back there.” 

There’s a moment of silence, maybe the two beers on an empty stomach making his head swim slower and slower by the minute. Making whatever he felt back on the dancefloor harder to grasp. Maybe that's why he speaks of something else instead. 

“I jerked off to Jimin’s anniversary livestream last week.” He confessed. Eyes locked together through the mirror. Namjoon cna feel the chilling breeze of his shirt untucking from his pants letting a sliver of his bloat taste the AC. 

Taehyung’s expression is shocked at best, unreadable at worst. 

“Me too…” He snorts a bit, smiling stunned. “You were dumb enough to message him through it.” 

“I wanted to be supportive!” His voice cracks, as if one sigh away from turning into a whine. 

“Oh you were supportive enough I think.” Taehyung jokes, and causes the whine to slip out as his head falls back into the sink, defeated. Though the younger chuckles behind him, “Come on, I’m funny.” 

Namjoon lifts his head only to deadpan. “Hysterical.” That only seems to make Taehyung’s giggles erupt even stronger. 

“Let's get out of here.” He says walking closer to Namjoon, he can hear the younger; but it still catches him by surprises when two big hands press to the center of his sagging hard bloat to coax him up. They squeeze a squeak and another burp out of him before Namjoon swats his hands away. “I’m hungry.”

“I won’t have anything, I’m too full.” Namjoon has to mumble through his blushed face. 

“Even after all the gas you let out?” The boxy grin Namjoon is offered as he turns to face the model shows no remorse. 

“I’m full. Let's go.” He brushes him off rolling his eyes, trying to ignore the burning of his face, as he leads his way across the club towards the door. He checks his phone, it feels like he’s been here an eternity. All that heat left him thirsty, even if his stomach gurgles in complaint. “I’ll get another beer though.” 

“We can get a cheaper one outside.” Taehyung takes his hand and rather leads the way out, despite his bigger size rushing a lot quicker than Namjoon’s swollen bubbly stomach can handle. He can only hope Taehyung can’t hear the few burps that slip out on their way out. “There’s a convenience store around the block.” He mumbles idly as Namjoon lets himself be guided. 

Alcohol not quite being the source of his drowsy wavy feeling. But rather the gassy stretch of his stomach lining, swelling up and rounding out his belly with beer. That's keeping him pliant and easygoing. 

Easy enough for Taehyung to convince him to have some instant pork kimchi jjim, black bean noodles, and tteokbokki. 

Oh, and a couple more beers. 

Chapter Text

Namjoon wants to go to the gym. He thinks to himself decisively after that night of almost entirely self indulgence, laying on Taehyung’s bed. The model already snoring peacefully next to him. He doesn’t remember him snoring before. Probably ‘cause of the weight. 

Namjoon has always snored. So… 

Anyways, he wants to go to the gym. 

Not Jungkook’s gym. 

No particular reason. 

Namjoon wants to really push himself; there’s only one place where he can do that.

He is really motivated, waking up at a surprising 11am and managing to wake a whining Taehyung up at 11:20am. Namjoon even rejects the younger’s sleepy offers for some coffee; having a hunch that it would inevitably end up being more than that. 

“I gotta go back to Jungkook, he spent the night alone.” He smiles getting back dressed. Feels a bit like a walk of shame, as he pushes his dress pants back up; knowing the lack of self control of their night together. 

“You talk about him like a pet.” Taehyung giggles. 

The older snorts. “Pft, I guess so.” He starts putting on his jacket. “You know he feels left out when you invite me to these fancy things.” 

“You think I haven’t tried inviting him?” Luckily Taehyung doesn’t take offence to the accusation. “He tells me he’s getting camera-ready.” He stretches across the obnoxiously big bed, reminiscent of a spoiled fat cat. “Must have to do with all that gym-going he’s doing.” There's a twinge of irony clinging to his voice as he says it, or maybe it's the amused smile. 

They both know. Namjoon is willing to guess, the entire friend group knows. 

“Have you seen Jungkook lately?” 

Taehyung’s smile only seems to widen. “I’ll text him today.”

“Let me know how that goes.” He chuckles, taking the younger’s answer as a no. Which is odd really, it's not like Jungkook has been hiding his successful bulk from anyone. “I’ll see myself out.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!” He beams stretching like a spoiled pet across his queen sized bed. Earning a snort from the other man. Easily picking up his thighs as he walks through the fancy apartment. 

If Namjoon concentrates, he can still remember the feeling of his stretched gut, ballooned far enough that it nearly untucked his turtleneck from his pants. Remembers the easy, sauce-coated slide of the tteokbokki, how easy it was to just keep them coming despite the gurgling of his belly. The drunken praise from Taehyung’s oily glistening lips when he slipped another burp out of his system. 

He feels a bit of that reminiscing fullness cling to his middle still. He overdid it last night, that's why his new pants seem to squeeze the air out of him as he walks. It's a relief to see people going about their day, none of them aware of the events of last night. Of how Namjoon lost all restrictions, guided by Taehyung’s influence to behave like a proper pig. 

That’s exactly why he is looking through he and Hoseok’s chat. Looking for the socials of the gym that Namjoon had completely abandoned. And skims through the beginner spinning classes. Not letting Hoseok’s smile and kindheart lure him into another cardiac-arrest. 

But… There must be a mistake in the schedule. “Beginner Spinning Class - Professor Jung Hoseok” Tuesdays 5pm. That can’t be right. He barely updates his own instagram, so Namjoon feels more confident reaching to this account's DMs than texting Hoseok about it. Where the gym staff is eager to tell him that yes, Hoseok has started doing beginner classes now. 

Huh.

Well, he’s got nothing to hide from Hoseok, he isn’t like Jungkook. 

That statement is one he continues to repeat himself all the way until Tuesday. Even as he walks into the gym. To the dreadful spinning class that's all mirrors and bikes lined up. He’s the first one there. Namjoon makes sure to busy himself taking off his hoodie, unpacking his water bottle. Anything to keep his gaze away from the mirrors that offensively line up nearly the four walls of the room. He doesn’t remember them being this exposing in his first class…

It's easier to distract himself once other people start to arrive. Not as cultish as Namjoon’s first and last spinning class, where everyone seemed to know each other. Friendly folks dropped their gym bags, towels and bottles, as easy small talk filled the room. Can’t help but notice…

Everyone coming in was at least moderately chubby. Mentally scolding himself as soon as that thought comes into his mind. 

“First time?” A woman that has to be Namjoon’s age smiles friendly at him. 

“Sort of.” He smiles back. “I accidentally got myself into one of the advanced classes like a month ago.” A chuckle attached to the end of his sentence. “Been terrified of coming ever since.” Even if it's a joke, there's some truth to that. Especially apprehensive after the day’s he’s been having. 

She seems to find humor in it too. “Oh this will be perfect for you than. Hoseokssi’s classes are easy on the heart.” Namjoon follows her to the bike she is claiming as hers for the class, first row. Namjoon can’t help but settle next to her. A bit closer than he’d choose, especially if he knows he’ll have Hoseok’s eyes on him. But it would be awkward to back away now. 

“Really?” He can’t help but ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“For sure.” The tone of her voice answers as if what Namjoon was asking was ridiculous to begin with. “He really understands the student’s pace.” Her smile is humorous. “He’s one of us. You know?” 

Us?  

“I think so.” Namjoon’s smiles a bti nervously. Not having enough time to think her words through before Hoseok’s melodic voice rings behind them. 

“Good afternoon everyone!” Chirp as ever, it gives Namjoon war flashbacks of his first spinning class in this gym. Trying to get on his bike as quietly and subtly as he can. Already sat on the bike looking down to the floor. But of course Hoseok notices him, soft hand on his shoulder. 

“Hello stranger.” His tone is ever teasing and loving. Namjoon lifts his head smiling. 

“I’ve returned.” He musters to say casually enough. Trying not to ogle Hoseok’s body too obviously. 

One of them. 

He seems to be wearing something similar to last time. Another loungewear tank top, and some snug gym shorts. But they didn’t hang off his body anymore, no. They stretched over the pudgy flab that seemed to cling in every corner of Hoseok’s once sharply angled body. Chubbed up from his belly, that rounded out his clothes, slight double belly forming in the way his bottom roll hung over the waistband of his shorts and the second roll sits on top, less flabby, rounder and tubby. Both of them extend onto thick rolls by his sides, the tank top doing absolutely nothing to hide the folds and love handles adorning his every curve. Once lithe, skinny dancer arts pudgy and jiggly, perky chest showing through the exposing fabric of the tank top, rounded nipples pressing to it and the small mounds of fat showing evidently. High cheekbones softened with chub, making his bright smile all that much more warm. 

“You better not kill me this time.” Namjoon adds, feeling his heart race already even before the class even started. 

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m all gentle with these guys.” He pats Namjoon’s shoulder, and even that action alone makes all the exposed uncontained chub of his arm wiggle. “Let's get the class started, shall we?” Hoseok asks more towards the rest of the class. That responds with enthusiastic agreement as the trainer climbs onto his little pedestal, looking down at Namjoon from where he sits on his bike. 

It gives the younger the deadly sight of Hoseok’s chunky legs he had missed before. Smaller than the rest of his body but still thickened with chubby padding, his legs ripple in swift motions as he climbs onto the bike, already short shorts riding up his chubbier legs. The elastic hem of them sinking a little into fat on his legs. Possibly the only thing keeping it from sinking right in the indent of where his legs end and his hips start. 

The music starts to play as Hoseok motivates the class into a slow warm up. And it's once his chubbed up body begins to sway on the bike that Namjoon notices the mirror behind Hoseok. Showing the clear view of the shorts riding up his thighs up to his rounded ass. Revealing the button of his asscheeks, properly folding on his thighs, round and bouncy with the slow rhythm of the bike. Shorts sinking between his asscheeks obscenely. 

He has to force himself to look back up. But that's no good either, not with the way Hoseok’s clothes do nothing to contain the wobbling fat. Tank top beginning to slide up the thick bottom roll of his belly. That bounces rhythmically with each sway, dragging a bit across the seat of the bike from side to side, leaning on each side, sitting on one thigh then the other. 

“You guys ready to break a sweat!?” Hoseok cheers them on. Namjoon is already well on his way to breaking a sweat. But the instructor doesn’t look much different, from this close Namjoon can see the glisten of sweat beginning to shine on Hoseok’s forehead. 

He is out of shape, but what is Hoseok’s excuse? 

The class doesn’t seem much different, their enthusiastic responses coming through breathless voices, and huffs of air. Though they’re all beginners, Namjoon can’t hold it to them. 

Hoseok, however, Namjoon can see him, hear him over the music, how he takes open mouthed wheezes through his smile. Body wobbling a bit more aggressively as he picks up the pace on his bike. His love handles making the rest of his body jiggle along, as they force their way over the waistband of the shorts, and push the hem of his shirt upwards into the fold of the rolls above the muffin top he’s developed. Namjoon is so close, so close he can see the pink stretch marks all over his hips. How they ripple obscenely throughout his entire body. 

“O–Okay y-you guys!” Hoseok’s voice is enthusiastic even through his huffed breathing. “Let's get serious! Get–” Huff. “Get ready for a climb!” Namjoon has no idea what that means, but mimics Hoseok’s smooth motion of adding weight onto his bike. The rippling of fat slows down as well as the movement of his legs, as the bike shows more resistance. But that doesn’t make it any easier on the trainer, grunting with effort as his head hangs low, as if he were the one in the class. Beads of sweat sliding down the elegant bridge of his nose down to the tip. 

Namjoon feels it too, the heat making his entire body sweat, his heartbeat picking up. And he won’t claim to be the fittest person in the room (even if it seems that way comparing himself to his classmates), but he is definitely sweaty and breathless for all the wrong reasons. 

“T–thats!” Huff. “That’s it guys!” The trainer's fatty legs are already beginning to tremble in effort. “L–last effort!” His voice albeit excited becomes strained and grunted through its wheezing. Namjoon has a front view of how his face contorts in effort, eyebrows scrunching up and eyes fluttering, cheeks tinted red and glistening with sweat. It's almost obscene, or maybe another one of Namjoon’s perversions coming through. He looks like he is trying to hold back, to resist, to hold on. Scrunching up in effort, clenching his jaw as his legs struggle to go on.

It looks so good on him. 

What was that?

The bass boosted techno music is so loud, Namjoon can’t be sure if he heard right. 

Did Hoseok just… fart? No, no there’s no way. He is just imagining things. 

“Sorry about that one!” Hoseok chirps, earning casual chuckles from the rest of the class. Is this not a first? “The protein shake is working its magic.” Namjoon can differentiate if the blush on his cheeks is exertion or if Hoseok feels any sort of embarrassment at all. “Let's go back to the normal resistance on the bike everyone.” 

One of them. He reminds himself. 

He half mindlessly follows Hoseok’s instructions. But his eyes stay trained to the older’s face; too afraid to look anywhere else as the spinning of his legs picks up. Body chubbed up all over to the point even his cheeks bounce with the quick rushing of his legs. And nothing could’ve prepared him for Hoseok looking back down at him, slight padding on his chin only making him look more innocent, more unaware . Especially with the bright smile he offered Namjoon. Smile he can only return nervously before looking away. 

Feeling a distinctly different type of heat along his navel at the sight of his body, the one his eye’s go unconsciously too. By now completely drenched in sweat. Poor white tank top nearly translucent, softened perky nipples showing through, tan skin. Beads of sweat collect at the sagging bottom roll of his belly, shaking them onto the floor with forceful shaking of his legs against his pudgy overhang. If he concentrates enough, he can see the sweat make its way from underneath the hem of his shirt, and sink into his sunken squished belly button. Namjoon unconsciously presses harder against the bulky seat of his bike, hissing under his breath. Eyes unhelpfully dragging to the mirror behind Hoseok, where he can see the shorts in a far worse condition than they were before, riding up so high up, that the hem of Hoseok’s briefs begin to show. Hugging his bouncing asscheeks obscenely, the tank top completely gave up on his body, showing the smooth exposure of Hoseok’s slight back rolls and jiggly muffin top. 

The heat and tightness concentrates elsewhere, downwards from his navel. His teeth sink into his bottom lips trying to stop himself from bringing even more attention to himself. Namjoon’s panicked eyes meet his reflection in the mirror, possibly for the first time since he walked into the classroom. Red and sweaty himself, body bouncing in sync to the music. Surrounded by out of shape beginners and their fatty instructor. 

One of them. The tightness worsens. 

Namjoon stands up abruptly from his chair, earning a few concerned glances as he rushes out of the room. Feeling like he only takes a proper breath when he reaches the changing rooms. Heart beating outside of his chest, pressing a palm forcing it to sink down a bit; put it back in his place. He can still feel Hoseok’s worried eyes on him as he ran out. HIs legs even tingle a bit, but it's probably because of the arousal; thighs trembling as he sits down in one of the benches. 

He should leave right now. But he left his bag with his keys, phone and wallet back there. At least he was one of the only few men there, so he can rest assured he won’t face anyone and explain his sudden disappearance. Instead quietly make his way back towards the classroom to pick up his things and never step foot into this establishment again. 

Easy.

Thinking back on it, he left pretty early on in the class. Namjoon isn’t out of shape perse… But it's very telling of his lack of self control. Already struggling to erase the image of Hoseok’s jiggling sweaty body out of his mind. But he has a long while before he’ll be able to get his stuff back and flee. And sitting still here isn’t helping the memory of Hoseok’s nearly naked bouncy ass get out of his head any easier. 

Namjoon decisively stands up, ready for a detour of the gym. Anywhere that isn’t inside his own head.

Cautiously peeking out, most of the gym is empty. He’d rather not think about how at some point in the past, this would’ve been the gym’s most crowded hour. As he makes his way towards the reception curiously. 

‘Need energy to keep going?! Get our pre-workout to go! Partnered with Enhanced’

He stares at the little fridge with a cold stare. The aesthetically pleasing cups filled to the brim with what looks like thick strawberry, chocolate and vanilla milkshakes… Or well ‘pre-workout drinks’. The last thing his body needs is to drink one of those. The last thing he wants to have to deal with is the fact he came to a spinning class, left early, and got a caloric shake having done nothing to need all those calories. That’s something Jungkook would do, and he isn’t like him. 

He isn’t like them. Definitely not delusional enough to see this promotion as anything else than what it is: a marketing strategy to get you even more hooked into his clearly addictive products. 

The bottles stare back at him, almost insultingly.

No one would know. The muffled sounds of the class still sound somewhat intense. Or as intense as it can get with an out of shape instructor trying to wheeze through his spinning class. Namjoon has a lot of time, he is sure of it. 

They don’t even look that big. You know, compared to the shakes he usually has… 

Before his mind can tell him otherwise, he is leaning down to grab one from the minifridge. He’ll have to pay for it later, maybe that's what makes it so inviting. So easy. And picks a chocolate shake to bring with him to the changing rooms. Rushing almost humiliated. 

That was wrong, he shouldn’t have done that. He thinks as he sits back on the corner bench he had taken refuge in. Not giving himself time to regret it as he hastily opens the cap and brings it to his lips. 

This is wrong. He barely has time to ponder on that thought before the rich chocolate flavour invades his mouth. Thick enough to swallow his pleased hum, it relaxes him, drowns his anxieties in heavy cream. He lets his back rest against the cold wall, feeling his own sweat having cooled off by now too. Eyes fluttering close almost drowsily. 

Focusing on breathing through his nose, knowing if he were to pull back now, he’d have to deal with the regrets of his actions. Namjoon may not have fallen for the marketing tactic but for something far far more dangerous. 

The flavour. 

Delicious, numbing, suffocating flavour. Namjoon can feel his eyes rolling back. Feeling a fullness in his stomach that should be similar to what he felt going out with Taehyung. But it's not, it's nothing like that. Unlike the fizzy expansion of the beer, Namjoon can feel the shake settle at the pit of his stomach and fill him from the bottom up. No air, just heavy chocolate shake that makes his belly balloon, tubby and rounded out; pushing at the waistband of his gym shorts uncomfortably. He can feel himself expanding, belly not quite pressing into his shirt yet; that's new. Must’ve been Jungkook’s. 

His legs can’t help but spread, feeling the bottom of his tummy, begging for more room. But it's not the kind Namjoon’s spread legs can give him. So cramped and tight even if he has the whole bench for himself. One thing similar to last time… Namjoon feels just as big. Bloat coaxing the air out of his lungs, breathing heavily as if he was still there working out… But he just snuck away to stuff himself full of chocolate protein shake. 

As if snapping out of a trans he pushes the nearly empty bottle away, gasping for air. Letting it rest on his hand by his side, feeling his lips sticky with chocolate, lips parted as his belly rises and falls helpless. Sprawled out like some sort of beached whale, resting against the corner as if trying to make himself small. 

It's a little bit too late for that now. 

He refuses to look down at himself. Namjoon doesn't wanna see the damage, he knows it's there. In the way his waistband rolls down itself from the pressure of his bloat against it. All he can muster up the conscience to do is lazily tug at the hem of his shirt, make sure everything is still covered, and close his eyes, back of his head resting against the wall. 

An eternity goes by, only his shallow open-mouthed breathing to keep him company. Focusing on that instead of any of the thoughts he knows he’s gonna have to face eventually. But he knows he has no one to rush him into that. For now, Namjoon can enjoy the drowsy bliss of fullness lulling him to sleep right then and there. His eyes begin to close with slowly prolonging blinks. 

He could just…

“Here you are.” The noise of the door opening almost comes as quickly as Hoseok’s voice. Intruding him in this moment with a teasing tone and a smile. “I thought you had gotten sick or something.” Namjoon can only try and straighten up where he sat, grunting a bit at effort from the strain it poses to his distended belly. Eyes following Hoseok’s that look up and down his body, amused heart-shaped smile growing on his face; making Namjoon feel like he was caught in the middle of a crime scene. 

His eyes catch the nearly empty shake bottle. 

The murder weapon. 

What was murdered? Namjoon’s dignity. 

“I– Did the class end already? He manages to smile.  Finding solace in the fact Hoseok looks red and breathless too. 

“Like 20 minutes ago yeah.” But the older isn’t looking any less confident in his smile. Standing in front of Namjoon with that pudgy belly reaching for his face. “Too much?” He shouldn’t sound as knowing, not when Hoseok was the one who clearly downgraded from an expert class to teaching the chubbies. 

“No, no it was alright.” Namjoon is quick to brush him off, smile becoming a bit more forced. “ Nothing like last time.” Maybe it's immature of him to jab at Hoseok like that. But he is not about to be looked down upon. 

“Oh that’s a relief!” He chirps, completely unphased by Namjoon’s comment. “That’s why I wanted to give a beginner class. Something that was accessible for everyone.” 

How noble. Namjoon has to bite his tongue to stop himself. 

“But you still felt the need to rush out and get some extra fuel?” He is convinced Hoseok was well aware of the slight (maybe not so slight) teasing Namjoon had thrown his way; with the humour in the instructor’s voice. “Maybe I’m being too harsh still.” 

Something inside him panics. Looking down at the nearly empty bottle still in his hand. The feeling of being seen, properly seen, gut wrenching. “O-oh, this?” The nervous chuckle he lets out gesturing to the bottle can’t be convincing. But what he says next truly nails the last nail on his dignity’s coffin. “I just found it here.” 

There's a brief moment of silence, Hoseok’s expression undecipherable even through his small smile. Understanding, merciless, amused, or disdained. Namjoon doesn’t know, all he can do is plead silently for mercy. 

“You found it.” Hoseok repeats. “It's weird to find them unfinished.” His arms fold over his chest as he leans against the wall beside him. “People really seem to love them.” 

“You haven’t tried them?” There's genuine curiosity in his voice. But what he chooses to add might be just slightly petty. “With all that carb loading you like to do after a workout…?”

“I have.” Hoseok’s response is fast and court. If not defensive. “Have you?” His eyes go back to the nearly empty bottle, dragging across Namjoon’s evidently ballooned stomach. “You shouldn’t try it from a stranger’s bottle, Joonie.” The way he scrunches his nose still has an endeared smile attached to it. “Don’t be piggish.” He giggles. And that word makes Namjoon be the one to answer defensively. 

“O–Oh! N-No I– I wouldn’t- I wasn’t!” Hoseok is quick to cut him off. 

“I’ll buy you one! Hyung’s treat.” He leans down to snatch the nearly empty bottle from Namjoon’s hand and pat his shoulder. “Come on, up. Your legs can’t hurt that much; you only did like 10 minutes of my class.” Hoseok giggles without malice. And he was right. 

But that isn’t the problem. Namjoon’s heavy swollen bloat sitting on his lap, making all of the blood circulate his stomach in a weak attempt at digestion, hardened to the point it makes his breathing shallow; that's the problem. 

“O-okay.” He is a bit too stunned to say anything else, caught in his own lie. Hoseok is throwing the bottle on the bin with his back to Namjoon. Giving the perfect window of time to place his hands on his knees and try to stand up. Grunting a bit embarrassingly, but succeeding when he feels his ass lift itself from the bench, centre of gravity feeling completely shifted to the protruding bloat.

 All it takes is Hoseok to turn his attention to the younger at the sound of effort, for Namjoon to plop back onto the bench humiliatingly. Hoseok’s eyes widened but unreadable for a brief, suffocating, moment of silence. 

“You’re really not used to spinning classes, huh?” Namjoon feels once again caught in the act. Still drunk and drowsy from the fullness to try and formulate a witty response. His complete cluelessness must be obvious by the way Hoseok’s expression softens. “Come here.” He can only stare up dumbly as Hoseok approaches him, taking both of his small hands to grab Namjoon’s and tugging him up.

Or trying to, at least. The effort counts. 

He nearly stumbles, grunting again, having to force himself to keep his other hand from cupping the tubby, sagging tummy that weighs him down, pins him in place. But he is standing; the front of his bloat nearly brushing Hoseok’s own tummy. Their faces closer than Namjoon’s heart can handle right now. Close enough he has to worry if any residue of the chocolate shake is clinging to the corners of his lips. 

“I’ve really only been to two in my whole life.” He manages to chuckle quietly, Namjoon bets his breath could give away the hints of chocolate shake too. 

But if they do, Hoseok pretends not to notice. Giggling as his smaller hands get a better hold of Namjoon’s. “Should I feel flattered?” 

“Very.” The younger deadpans. “I’m not doing this for any other one of my friends.” He shakes his head as they make their way out. Trying to avoid the silence that makes room for his heavy breathing to be even more audible. At least in the slight breathless tone of his voice he can pass it as something else. 

“Jungkook told me you went to the gym with him.” Hoseok eyes him smiling. “So you don’t just do it for me.” 

“Ah… I wouldn’t say I did it for Jungkook.” A timid smile grows on his face. He knows he did it for himself, for his own satisfaction of proving Jungkook wrong. But he can’t say that . 

“Oh, you’re trying to get back into shape?” 

“Why do people keep asking me that?” Namjoon can’t help but ask out loud, or the whiny tone of his voice as he and Hoseok make their way back to the front desk. Where the sight of those packed milkshakes alone is enough to make his stomach churn in its tight confines. 

“Only crazy people like me go to the gym for enjoyment.” He answers swiftly. Not really answering Namjoon’s question. 

Seokjin had asked him the same thing just a while ago…A month? Two months? 

“Okay…” Hoseok continues squishing his tummy against his lap as he leans down towards the minifridge. “What are you craving?” 

Nothing . Namjoon is craving an hour-long nap for digestion. 

“Any recommendations?” He asks a bit breathless from where he stands. Taking the opportunity of Hoseok's back facing him to let his hand rub along the swollen top of his stomach. Taut and painful to the touch; though enjoyable still somehow. Like a slow release of pressure. 

Maybe too much pressure. There's a dangerous churning in his stomach, the pressing of gas that threatens to make his way up and out of his system. 

“I’m old school. I like vainilla.” 

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘old’.” Hoseok does turn to him then, eyes squinted as he looks up to Namjoon from where he is leaning over. Forcing the younger to get the hand away from where it sat comfortably on his ballooned stomach. The lack of response from Hoseok is endearing as well as a little intimidating; he feels once again, caught. “I’ll take the vanilla too.” He rather adds with a nervous smile. 

The instructor just nods wordlessly, taking two bottles out. Namjoon doesn't quite know where he is going to find space in himself to have even a sip. “Thanks.” His words come out absent minded as he takes the bottle.

“Ugh I hate the winter. Look how dark it is.” Namjoon catches himself still looking at the bottle, having to snap up to follow Hoseok's pouty expression towards the window. It does look like night time already. 

“Oh… I can walk home with you.” He offers softly only for Hoseok’s melodic giggles to fill the room. Soft hand rubbing at Namjoon’s shoulder. 

“You’re so sweet, Joon-ah. But I don’t walk after my shift, hyung will drive you.” Internally an angel choir is singing in Namjoon’s mind. He doesn’t think he could’ve walked for long either. 

“The spinning instructor can’t walk a few blocks?” Namjoon teases instead. Smiling without any malice.

“Easy for you to say! You skipped the whole class!” The hand on the younger’s shoulder slaps his back. “I should make you walk.” 

“No no no!” He offers his best dongsaeng smile. Even if Hoseok is the only one following their barely age-difference dynamic. “I’d love to get a ride with you.” 

“Good boy.” Namjoon scoffs at the cocky praise. Brushing Hoseok off his shoulders as they make their way to the older’s car. The unopened milkshake bottle begins to bleed through, wetting Namjoon’s hand as a reminder.

Sitting down again feels like a dream. Sighing in release even if that uncomfortable feeling along the waistband of his shorts is there again. Namjoon only has a few seconds, untucking his bloat so the waistband sits underneath; before Hoseok gets in the car. But he gets it done. 

Much much better. 

He doesn’t hide the sigh of relief. Leaning his head back against the seat, as Hoseok chuckles endeared. 

“You should drink the shake. It’ll get your energy up.” His comment is idly, but Namjoon can’t help but be reminded of his lie. The way he eyes Namjoon for a second before looking back at the road. It makes him a tad bit defensive. 

“R-right, I was about to.”  He eyes it with disdain. It looks thick enough to eat with a spoon. He brings it to his lips timidly. Just a sip, to test how much stress it poses to his stomach. The slide is easy as ever. So easy to just keep gulping before he can even give the shake time to settle in his stomach. 

He has to make a convincing case for himself doesn’t he? That's at least the thought Namjoon uses to test himself a bit, chugging the thick shake further even as he feels his belly begin to impossibly stretch. Only stopping himself when his lungs urge him to resume that heavy breathing. The one that's pushed by his bloat, coaxing the air out of his lungs in huffs. 

Bloat that he is supposed to be hiding. 

The way he pushes back from the shake wheezing for air isn’t the most convincing. But when he turns to look at Hoseok, busy making a turn with one hand on the wheel and another on the shake. Sipping it gracefully. Or at least a lot more gracefully than Namjoon had. 

Though it's evident he isn’t bloated. His already tight tank top riding up the ballooning crest of his belly. Golden bottom roll, pillowy as it sits on his lap, bouncing along with the bumps in the road only pushing the tank top up further. He can’t help his own hand reaching for his bloat, it feels nothing like it. Taut and swollen. While Hoseok’s you could just sink into. 

For now, at least. 

He must catch Namjoon’s staring. Turning to him as he sets the bottle into the cupholder. “Didn’t like it?” 

“Oh–no I did.” Namjoon is quick to look back at his bottle like it's the most interesting thing in the car. “They’re just so filling.” A nervous chuckle seeps from his lips, he can feel the way his belly pushes out with each giggle. As if just the mere mention of being full would drag even more attention to his obvious ballooned bloat. 

“I’m sure you’ve eaten worse.” Hoseok comments idly, his own eyes avoiding Namjoon’s. Whose expression widens at the sudden attack. Before Hoseok adds. “With your roommates diet and all.” 

“Hah.” His laughter comes out a lot more relieved than entertained. “I don’t usually try Jungkook’s concoctions of ‘pre-workout’.” 

“For the best, probably.” Hoseok smiles friendly. But his eyes glide up and down Namjoon’s body. Glancing at him before he diverts to the road. 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” His shrug isn't convincing. “Anyone trying to get fit shouldn’t drink Jungkook’s protein shakes. That's all.”

“I told you already, I’m not trying to get fit.” He can’t help the defensive tone. A burning feeling at the pit of his stomach more than form just the fullness. The embarrassment makes a trail burn up from his belly button to his ears. 

As if to prove a point, he takes another healthy, forceful, chug of his shake. 

“This is probably just as full of calories as Jungkook’s is.” He comments, just to make the tension dissipate from his defensive response. 

“We worked out though.” 

He worked out. Namjoon snuck out to stuff himself. Still, Hoseok doesn't know that. He has no right telling Namjoon if he is or isn’t trying to ‘get back into shape’. Which, he isn’t. Why would he be? 

“To well deserved shakes?” Lifting his bottle close to Hoseok with a small smile, in an urgent desire to lift the mood from the exposing thoughts plaguing his mind. Hoseok smiles back and clinks his bottle with Namjoon’s. 

“To well deserved shakes.” Naturally. Namjoon forces another chug down his throat. Even the seatbelt becoming too restrictive against his heaving stomach. Leaving Namjoon restricted enough he tries to sit up straighter, though the shifting of his weight feels particularly heavy with the shake and a half now sitting at the bottom of his stomach. This feels so much different than the beer bloat he had given himself under Taehyung’s influence. 

And the worst part is, that first shake, he wasn’t under anyone's influence then… 

He rather gulped down the rest of the bottle, trying not to grunt in effort. Letting his thoughts be numbed by the soothing cold slide of the shake into his protruding belly. Having to swallow down a burp that stretches his cheeks as he throws his head back against the headrest of the car. Much like he did on the benches inside the changing room. 

It's hard to breathe. He has to focus on it closinghis eyes as Hoseok chuckles. 

“I didn’t think I’d have a bigger appetite than you.”

“You don’t do intermittent fasting anymore.” Namjoon can only answer lazily, not bothering to open his eyes. “Your appetite is bound to grow.” 

The hum Hoseok says in response sounds unsure. In the back of Namjoon’s hazy hazy mind, he feels a bit guilty. Not telling Hoseok the full truth, and him sounding possibly insecure of himself. 

But he is not about to let himself be exposed. If he hasn’t already. 

“I guess so…”

“Plus you workout.” He sounds like he is about to fall asleep on Hoseok, maybe he is. “I bet your body was begging for those extra calories.” 

“You work out now too.” Hoseok giggles a bit, Namjoon finds comfort in the way his tone sounds a bit more cheerful. Good. 

“Oh, I’m not stepping into a spinning class again.” He opens his eyes just for the joke to work, and he swears he catches Hoseok already looking at him. 

Or well… Not at him . 

At his bloat. 

Before he quickly looks up at Namjoon’s eyes, snorting. 

“You didn’t even give it a proper chance.” His giggles sound just a tad skittish. Maybe Namjoon is just imagining things. Most probably. 

“Didn’t have to.” He smiles back. “I can already tell I’ll hate it.” Hoseok’s eyes stay on him, and that's the only indicator Namjoon gets to realise they’re not moving anymore. In fact they’re in front of his apartment. 

“I’ll take you to one of my yoga classes next. Jimin loves them.” 

“That’s not very promising.” He teases. 

“I know. But maybe if you come I can convince Yoongi to come too.” That makes a painful giggle slip from Namjoon’s throat. A bubbling burp coming right after. “He is at his desk all day! He needs it.” 

Namjoon is just thankful Hoseok ignored that. 

“I’ll try.” 

“Good! Now get out.”

Ah right, Namjoon had forgotten about that. 

Getting up.

“Pft. Well, goodbye to you too.” He tries to snort with some humour. As if to hide the disdain he feels already having to shift his swollen gut to open the door and move his legs to the side. 

“You know I love you.” Hoseok answers back smiling unapologetically.

“I do.” Even looking over his shoulder feels like an effort on his poor belly. “Thanks for the ride.” Looking back Hoseok has that same look in his eyes, the nervous one he thought he had seen when he caught the older staring. 

“Anytime.” 

Though he can only smile back as he grabs onto the top of the car door and grunts to stand. Painful as each step rattles his stomach, bouncing it heavily. Gripping the railing of the entry stairs and feeling the bloat slosh with heavy cream and milk inside him. Ever thankful for the creator of elevators, even standing up he has to lean on the cool mirror side of the small space for some support. Letting his hands cup the bottom of his swollen hard stomach in search for some release. But all he gets is a fart coaxed out of him. 

He feels like a pig. And that feeling is only worsened by how good it felt to do that. His thumbs push in a little deeper and he feels himself letting go of another one. 

Ouf . 

Interrupted by the little ‘ding’ sound, he waddles his way out. His drowsy mind already looking forward to getting to his room and continuing. Finding Jungkook on their kitchen table studying as he waddles by. 

“Hey Jungkook-ah.” He sighs a bit tiredly. All that heavy shake made him sleepy. 

“Hey hyung.” Jungkook lifts his head to smile properly at the older. “Is that my shirt?” 

That, however, makes him halt in his steps. Looking down at himself, ballooned stomach stretched enough that it started to cover the sight of his toes. He bets he looks pregnant. Still, he is relieved his shirt is the thing Jungkook chooses to point out. 

“Huh… It is.” It surely doesn’t feel as big as Jungkook’s new closet should feel. “One of the old ones?”

“I don’t think so.” 

In this almost drunken state of mind, all Namjoon can say is. “Oh…” Nodding a bit as he resumes his lethargic walk towards his room. Slow in an attempt to make the bouncing of his painfully stretched bloat as soothed as possible. “Sorry.” He mumbles when his back is already facing Jungkook. 

“Don’t worry about it.” If he can hear the slight confusion in Jungkook’s voice, he is too drowsy to pay attention to it. Finally sighing when he lets himself plop against the bed. 

Chapter Text

It was easy to force this day deep down his memory. Forgetting it, as if it never had happened. Presumably no one knew what Namjoon had done in those changing rooms and he won’t give it a lot of space in his mind to ponder about it. 

Maybe that's why it's easy to turn the rest of that evening with Hoseok into a blurr. Everything said becoming just a haze of side-eyed glances, swallowed burps and suffocating gym clothes. 

That’s probably why he is a bit startled when he gets Yoongi’s text. 

yoongi: are you busy tonight? 

yoongi: we have to talk

He can’t help lift his eyebrows as he reads the message. What would Yoongi possibly have anything to talk with him? 

you: sure! 

yoongi: great i’ll go to yours

yoongi: is 7 okay? 

you: i’ll see you then 

And when he sends it. It does seem okay, really. But as the hours creep on through the rest of the day it's impossible to stop his mind from wandering. Namjoon is sure he can count with one hand the times Yoongi has actively asked to see him, let alone ‘talk’? There’s nothing to talk about. They've been friends for decades now with a perfect record. 

Namjoon isn’t as nervous as he is just plain curious. He knows Yoongi through and through, after all. Though… When the doorbell rings, around 7, like they agreed, the man Namjoon sees at the door is nearly unrecognisable. 

Once lithe, almost frail looking Yoongi, had the width of almost Namjoon’s doorway. Round all the way, gut jutting forward pillowy but massive as it sagged over the waistband of his pants, nearly hiding his crotch entirely. Pink underbelly peeking from his shirt, table-cloth-sized shirt unable to cover all of it. Quite the contrary, it clung to the swollen protruding belly. The rolls that stacked on his sides from his juicy love handles all the way to the roll under his arm looked squeezed by the fabric. Thick along his waist and becoming bigger as they collected some of the fat from his newfound moobs; saggy and obscene-looking. Namjoon didn’t have to look to assume all that fat spilling to the sides, pushing Yoongi’s fattened tubby arms away from his torso, was probably showing as girthy back rolls behind him. 

Namjoon has to remind himself that Yoongi had a head, looking up to the steam dumpling shaped pudgy face. He’s having a hard time deciphering if this is just his normal tired looking face, or if all the fat hanging from his cheeks and under his jaw is making all that much more poutier and cute.

“You texted first!” He can’t help but beam. If his voice sounds just a little squeakier it has nothing to do with the nerves he was struck with. Abruptly moving to the side to make room for Yoongi to come in. Luckily he doesn't think much of Namjoon’s enthusiastic tone, smiling a bit as he waddled his way in. 

“Don’t make such a fuss about it or it won’t happen again.” His voice sounds so breathless, and as he walks past Namjoon the older’s girth truly becomes noticeable. In a way Namjoon is glad Yoongi has had the spare key all these years… He is not sure they would’ve fit in the elevator. Still through the shock of his own thoughts, he can tell Yoongi is doing that thing where he brushes Namjoon off instead of letting himself feel flustered over a comment. 

But he knows by now, even if he likes to pretend not to, Yoongi loves the reassurance. 

“Let me celebrate at least a little.” Even if he’s the one speaking, Yoongi’s deep breathing resonates through the living room as he lazily makes his way towards the couch. Ungracefully letting his weight fall onto it. Namjoon is sure he can see the pillows and springs underneath them dent into the shape of his wide ass; if the loud creak is anything to go by. “Anything to drink?” He would’ve offered anyway… Namjoon is pretty sure he would've. But Yoongi’s subtle wheezing is encouraging to say the least. 

“Any whiskey?” 

“So it's that type of night.” Namjoon can’t help but snort. And Yoongi chuckles right back, even if he is sitting, the laugh alone makes his fat ripple. That on its own enough to force Namjoon to turn on his heel towards the kitchen. “You know I do.” 

“You can have some whiskey for your celebration.” Namjoon hears him as he gets the two whiskey glasses and his bottle. “Don’t let it get to your head, though. I had to invite myself over before you invited me to Hoseok’s, to work out.” 

He giggles then, Yoongi’s underlying melodrama never ceases to amaze him. But returning to the living room with an adorable looking out on his lips. Namjoon knows it's serious. Though he can’t help his endeared smile from staying on his face, dimpling his cheeks. “Where did you get that idea?” 

“Who do you think?” Yoongi’s unamused tone is even funnier as Namjoon hands him a glass. “He won’t leave me alone!”  His eyes bulge out, and his pout becomes even bigger in a way that's sickeningly endearing; the flip on Namjoon’s stomach definitely agrees. 

“Hobi hyung was always really intense about his lifestyle…” An apologetic smile grows on his face, and it's worth it for the scoff that makes Yoongi’s entire body ripple from the expressive movement. 

“It was never this… targeted.” He eyes Namjoon with a knowing look. Frightening but somehow relieving in its own way. Like he is allowed to talk about it. 

“Ah…” He finds himself nodding, maybe a bit nervously. Even with the acknowledgement, he doesn’t know how much Namjoon is allowed to say, to comment on. Maybe he doesn’t trust himself to do so accordingly. Luckily Yoongi goes on for him. 

“He treats me like I’m about to appear in one of those obese-people American shows!” He huffs sitting up straighter, entire body following the movement with jiggles. “I got fat, but he treats me like a ticking time bomb!” 

“ Just fat?” Namjoon can’t help himself. Can’t stop himself before it's out and Yoongi is looking at him with widened eyes and ajar lips. His own face burning, brain fumbling over what to say.

“Last time I got a check up. Yes.” Yoongi’s tone is cautious. He raises his eyebrow in a way that tries to be threatening, but inevitably eases Namjoon’s nerves. “Watch yourself.” The squeaky laugh that slips past Namjoon’s chest feels like the pressure lifting from his chest; how he’s been holding his breath. 

“How long ago was that check up?” Feeling a little bit more comfortable he leans teasingly to ask. But gets weakly shoved back to his spot. 

“Long enough I already have my next appointment booked! Yah!” Namjoon’s body goes limp in laughter, letting himself fall against the armrest of the couch. “This is exactly why I came over.” He huffs quietly, shaking his head and taking a sip, but the little smile on his lips gives him away. It always does. 

“I just can’t blame Hoseok for worrying.” 

“It’s not just worrying.” Yoongi deadpans, looking a tad more serious than before. “I was always unfit, now I’m just unfit and fat.” Just fat , Namjoon’s mind prompts unhelpfully. “If he wants to fuss over anyone, why doesn’t he fuss over Jimin? He looks heavier than me.”

“I think he said something about Jimin going to his yoga classes.” He pursed his lips trying to think back to his last conversation with the gym instructor.  Only getting a ‘tsk’ in response from the older, taking a rather long sip of whiskey. “But wait, what do I have to do with any of this?” 

“Seok-ah keeps telling me you’re going, therefore I should go.” Namjoon snorts. “Or that I should talk to you and you’ll be able to tell me everything about how fucking amazing those classes are.” He can’t hold his laugh then.

“I went to two of his classes, like 2 months apart from one another.” And he looks at Yoongi’s reaction for his next confession. “And for the last one I ditched it 10 minutes in to drink a protein shake by the changing rooms and almost passed out.” 

Yoongi seems as stunned at Namjoon’s words as Namjoon is of having said them out loud. Gummy smile growing in his face alleviating some of the pressure of the suffocating silence. “Does he know?” 

“He’d have to be deluded to have not noticed.” 

“He is deluded.” Yoongi snorts entertained. “Acting like he is better than all of us while he chubs up.” 

All of us? 

Namjoon can’t help shift a bit uncomfortable, shrugging with pursed lips. “He is the fittest one of the group. That much is true.” His eyes scatter away from Yoongi’s raised eyebrow. “Some of us are just fitter…” The snort the older lets out is enough to make his head snap back towards Yoongi. “What?” 

“You’re not telling me you're fit, are you?” His tone is insultingly amused. 

“What's that tone supposed to mean?” Namjoon doesn’t need an argument to say to get defensive with. He can get defensive all on his own, thank you very much. 

“Right, because all fit people have little sneak outs to chug protein shakes after 10 minutes of exercise.” With an insane level of audacity Yoongi snorts. Shaking his head, Namjoon’s eyes dug daggers into the older “You were never fit, Joon-ah.” 

Their eyes meet then, warm and teasing against the younger’s glaringly defensive gaze. Namjoon remembers then, with a bit of horror, that Yoongi knows him just as thoroughly as he knows him. He feels naked, seen in places he doesn’t want to be seen. 

It feels like they aren’t just talking about fitness. 

“Guess you have a point.” Is all he can say, in an attempt to push the conversation elsewhere, his eyes look into his whiskey glass and take a sip himself. Ever perceptive, Yoongi seems to take a hint. 

“Where’s Jungkook?” He peeks a bit into the kitchen, not leaving the comfort of the couch of course. He seems to be denting it permanently. “Working out?” And okay, the teasing smile that grows in his adorably round face is kind of funny. 

“Pft.” Namjoon can’t help but smile back, warmth contagious as it spreads along his chest. “Don’t joke like that or he might take you to the gym with him, he did it to me.” Even with his joking tone, his eyes widened in warning. 

“Oh! So that's three times you went to the gym!” Yoongi chirps patting his back, with a squeaky laugh making his body shake lively. Only for Namjoon to roll his eyes and swat his hand away. “But seriously where is he?” His voice is a little breathless from the laughter, some reminiscent jiggling on his belly from it too. 

“He’s out with Tae-ah. Didn’t bother telling me where. Brat.” 

“So that's why it's so peaceful.” Yoongi seems to sink even further into the couch. 

“Is it? Maybe for you.” He deadpans and only gets a new wave of giggles out of the older. 

“Is Namjoonie feeling attacked?” Even with the sickeningly sweet tone of his voice, coated with sarcasm, there’s still no malice to his voice. Leaning closer to the younger, so his belly sags to the side of his lap, pliant and enticing. “I’ll stop with the comments, I’m sorry.” 

Taking the apology seriously would mean something was actually wrong. That something actually rang true. So Namjoon smiles charmingly, turning his head to Yoongi, whose face is closer than he anticipated. Without looking he can feel some of his overhang brushing his thigh. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay for dinner to make it up to me.” 

Yoongi smiles like he has something to say about that. But luckily he keeps it to himself. Smiling back, softer than before. “Deal.” 

“Wanna see the beats I’ve been working on?” That manages to knock Yoongi’s smile off his face into a stunned expression. 

“You’re producing again?!” He feels quite satisfied when that same shock manifests in Yoongi’s voice, low hanging jaw making his double chin ever more prominent. 

“I’ve got more free time than ever. Come.” He gets up decisively from the couch, and the same can’t be said about Yoongi. Who is looking at Namjoon almost pouting. Taking a big chunk of the couch unapologetically.

“Can’t you just bring your laptop over?” A smile grows on Namjoon’s face. 

“I switched to a PC a few months ago.” He still has his old laptop, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. Maybe he wants to see Yoongi move a little; for a completely different reason than Hoseok does. 

“Ah…” He smiles then, as if trying to brush it off. “It really has been a while since I texted first.” Namjoon's smile only becomes more pleased. “Okay then. You win.” He chuckles though leaning forward with his hand on the armrest of the couch. Grunting a little as his wobbly knees lift his body off the couch. 

Except he doesn’t. His ass lifts a bit before falling back down. 

The couch makes a dangerous creaky noise. 

Namjoon has to hide his stunned expression as his belly makes a loud slapping sound when it falls against his lap. Fat rippling from his belly to his cheeks. He won’t look at Namjoon, but he is sure Yongi can feel his eyes on him, looking down at the belly that takes over his lap, sagging between his thighs, and keeping him pinned to the couch. 

Maybe that's what motivates Namjoon to put his hand forward in a silent offering. Trying to keep the cockiness off his smile. Especially when Yoongi looks up and accepts it, beginning to swing again as Namjoon makes an effort to pull when Yoongi is leaning forward. 

Nothing could have prepared him for how heavy he was. Nearly slipping himself onto the couch too against Yoongi. Namjoon grunts a bit in effort, if he weren’t as focused on not falling into Yoongi, he would’ve been polite enough to try and conceal it. The older’s other hand gripping the couch’s armrest as another form of support as he finally stands up. Belly bumping into Namjoon’s. 

“That grunt was unnecessary.” He looks up at him, now the entire heft of his gut separating them. But the breathless tone of his voice and the hint of pink dusting his cheeks strips his words from any bite. 

“The grunt was unintentional.” Namjoon’s smile is kind but truthful. “You’re not that easy to manhandle anymore, huh?” He regrets his choice of words as soon as they come out. Manhandle? Really?! Luck must be on his side, since again Yoongi opts to not mention the information he knows about Namjoon’s…preferences. 

They were dumb teens back then, but if he could turn back time, he would’ve stopped them from sharing their kinks back when they were in highschool. Barely discovering their sexuality and the intricacies in their preferences. 

Manhandling , one of their shared interests. 

“Finally. Yeah.” Yoongi chuckles as he walks past Namjoon, side completely brushing the younger’s torso as he easily makes his way to Namjoon’s room. Even if he isn’t one to text first, Yoongi still has been here enough to know the place like the back of his hand. Hell, he helped Namjoon unpacked when he first moved!

And yes. From the back he can definitely see the back rolls he had anticipated. Though no level of preparation would have spared him from the impact of said rolls clinging to his shirt in a way that forces the hem up his love handles with each step. Milky soft skin, covered in pink stretch marks. Namjoon’s hands itch to trace them, if he hadn’t been taken aback by the wobbling of his ass and thighs. Striking him with the fact that even if his weight settled mostly on his belly, Yoongi had softened truly all over. Even the flabby back of his arms ripple with each heavy step. He is sure the neighbours can hear. 

Yoongi doesn’t ask to sit in Namjoon’s chair, rather groaning in relief at the sight of it, waiting for him. As all the younger can do is wince at the dangerous creak it lets out, much like the couch; except he doesn’t trust the 6 year old screws of the chair as much as he did the springs of the couch. 

“Show me.” Even if bossy, Yoongi’s face rounds out with a giddy gummy smile, chubby hand already taking the mouse and making his way through Namjoon’s computer like it's his own. It wouldn’t be like there's anything for him to hide… He deleted all his downloaded porn when Yoongi stumbled on it the first time when they were still barely beginning to meet each other. Real ice breaker. 

“Ah, in the FL Studio folder. Yah!” He chuckles a bit nervously, blushing for something completely different than the effects of Yoongi’s body on his perverted mind. “They’re really not that great, scrappy at bes-”

“Shut up.” He opens the first one. And Namjoon complies just in time for the first beat to play. Though it's unceremoniously interrupted by the growling of Yoongi’s stomach, a roar strong enough his fat wobbles along with it. As if to show truly how empty he is, needy for more. Yoongi pauses it then. “No, okay, I can’t appreciate them like this.”

“Dinner?” Namjoon guesses, his eyes still taking in the sight of Yoongi squeezed into his chair. Plump hips spilling from underneath the armrests, that dig into his side as well. Back looking too broad for the backrest, wide but gentle curve of his shoulders making him look softened but somehow sturdier than he was before. 

He has to rethink all of those manhandling fantasies that hunted him in his early 20s. And replace Yoongi as the main character from all of them. If anything, it looks like Yoongi would be the one heavy enough to pin Namjoon down. Nope, not going down that route, 

“Please, yes.” Namjoon is sure the older didn’t mean to be whiny, but demanding. But the permanent pout on his lips makes him giggle. “Just tell me what you’re craving so hyungie can buy your forgiveness.”

“Oh I had already forgotten about that! Nice.” He reaches out into Jungkook’s room to look for his desk chair. Disappointed to find a normal dining table chair. Right, he changed it a few days ago… Something about needing a replacement. Better ‘lumbar support’, right. He walks back into the room with the stiff chair. He’s been avoiding these, Jungkook too, rather eating on the couch or in their rooms when the other is out. But it’ll do. 

“So?” 

“Honestly… I’m just craving dessert for dinner.” His smile is shy but Yoongi’s enthusiastic nodding. As the younger sits beside him, this chair is so uncomfortable. No wonder they stopped using them. 

“I was so worried about you being turned into a health freak by Seok, I ate dinner before coming. So you didn't over me like… a kale pancake or something.” He snorts. Looking for bakeries on his phone, before glancing up and down at Namjoon. “Now I know, I had nothing to worry about.” He says teasingly. 

“You never did.” Namjoon can’t help but say assertively, feeling particularly trapped in his chair. “I don’t eat meat, but I still have good taste.” But he makes sure to make his huffing more playful this time. Shifting uncomfortable in the sharp edges of the chair that dig into the back of his thighs. “What are you ordering anyway?” Yoongi eyes him, unconvinced of not only Namjoon’s defence, but his change of subject as well. 

“Trust me. I know what you like.” 

You know too much. He holds back from saying. Or worse. I know what you like too.

“There. Should arrive soon.” He puts his phone on the desk. Namjoon must’ve missed it when he took it from his back pocket, the struggle it must’ve been. Unless he was hiding it someplace else, in one of his folds. 

And he is already thinking about unrealistic expectations he got from porn. This is why Namjoon doesn’t trust himself around the subject. Too disgusted by his own carnal desires to even consider inflicting them on his friends. But his mind works against him. He forces himself to relax then, leaning back on the chair, trying to focus on the uncomfortable feeling of his chair rather than the twisting of the pit of his stomach.

“You know, we could’ve just gone to the kitchen and see what we find.” Namjoon’s dimpled smile tries to be easy-going, before it becomes teasing. “Instead of stopping everything we are doing until the delivery gets here.” 

“Oh I’m not standing up again.” His smile is wide but he shakes his head like he means it. “Unless you want to help me again; cause I’m pretty nestled in.” As if it wasn’t obvious enough, Yoongi’s hand grips onto the fat of his stomach moving it with a force that sends jiggles all across. The fat that's overspilling onto the armrest slapping against it at the same rhythm of his hands movements. 

Namjoon tries to disguise his choking as a cackle. “Suddenly, I don’t mind waiting.” He deadpans and feels accomplished when Yoongi giggles with him. Or at least, Yoongi looked convinced until his smile turned smug and satisfied.

“That’s what I thought.” 

Yoongi knows what he likes. His mind reminds him. Even this. 

“So who do you usually call to help you get up when you’re at home?” That was his attempt at a subject change. Though it's only once it leaves his lips, and Yoongi’s eyebrows go up to his hairline, he realises that he’s failed disastrously. 

“I don’t need help getting up.” Yoongi chuckles a bit, though Namjoon’s expression must be completely unconvinced. So he adds. “Not every time...” 

“What did you call yourself before?” His fingers scratch along his chin dramatically and teasing. “ Just fat?” Okay, yes he’s definitely failed at trying to move away from the elephant in the room. 

The elephant that's sitting on his desk chair. 

“Enough!” He groans but Namjoon releases pressure in the form of a squeaky laugh, rubbing Yoongi’s shoulder apologetically. “It’s not like a doctor's opinion would change anything.” Its Namjoon’s turn to raise his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know…” He shrugs, eyes avoiding Namjoon’s. “Even if he told me I was obese… I doubt I’d do anything about it.” 

Oh . 

“Oh…” It's all he can reply, dumbly. For better or worse, Yoongi takes this as an invitation to explain himself. 

“Yeah I can’t go back now.” He chuckles endeared towards Namjoon. “I don’t remember ever having enjoyed myself this much.” The chair creaks even more when Yoongi leans back to caress the centre of his stomach gently. 

Namjoon is at a loss of words. Not trusting himself he replies. “That great, huh?” Eyes diverting from Yoongi’s now gigantic hand up to the screen in front of them. His face is warming up, the room feels smaller and the fucking chair getting tighter by the second. Or that might just be the knot in his stomach. 

“You would know.” Yoongi eyes him with a knowing smirk, one that makes a lump form at the base of Namjoon’s throat. 

Is he talking about Namjoons fetish? Or something else?

He doesn’t get the time to ponder on it, since the doorbell rings. It doesn’t look like Yoongi will get up to get it. 

“Be right back.” He mumbles a bit lost in the older’s words. Getting up maybe a bit too abruptly from his chair, judging the way it creaks back and he nearly stumbles into his desk. On autopilot as he rushes to the door; only to be faced with a poor delivery guy trying to carry multiple bags into Namjoon’s apartment complex. It's instinctive when he reaches out to help. 

“Thanks big guy.” He smiles as Namjoon takes the bags into his hands. Too concentrated in not dropping anything to even react to the comment. The delivery guy gets on his bike rushing off. And only when he is on the elevator does he think about it again. 

Big guy?

He guesses the delivery guy was a bit scrawny… 

Yoongi’s groan can be heard as soon as he opens the door to his apartment. “Finally!” 

“Don’t be greedy!” Namjoon yells back, a little breathless; the bags were heavier than he expected. Huffing a bit as he walks into the room, where Yoongi took the courtesy of shifting the chair to face Namjoon, gummy smile bright on his face. It makes up for the exertion of getting the heavy order. 

“How much did you even buy?” He chuckles a bit, setting them in front of his computer. Yoongi looked through it immediately. 

“Dessert! You can save some for Jungkook if you want.” His chubby hands pull out boxed cupcakes, cake slices, nutella stuffed cookies. 

“Dessert is one way to call it.” He snorts a bit. “You bought their entire stock.” It's lighthearted teasing, and Yoongi for sure is aware of his own appetite. But he blushes pink. 

“Just didn’t want to go hungry.” Yoongi shrugs, rather focusing on the bags. There's something liberating about being able to openly tease, and seeing Yoongi’s reaction to him; because he knows. Namjoon had dreams like this. 

“ Can you go hungry? You don’t let yourself even think about feeling it before you are ordering something” His eyebrow raises, and his chair gets promptly shoved to the side. Though Yoongi barely manages to move him an inch. His fat arms too weak to even push Namjoon. 

“I meant for the both of us, ass.” He rolls his eyes, but hands Namjoon the box of cupcakes. Chocolate ones, his favourite. 

“Yeah, but I have a normal appetite.” Namjoon says endearly but begins to unwrap the first one. Fluffy and perfectly moist with rich frosting on top. And it doesn’t disappoint, biting into it easily and the deep chocolate flavour takes over his senses. “I don’t need all this to stop my hunger.” He eyes Yoongi who’s gone for the red velvet cookies. 

“You don’t?” That question shouldn't sound as genuine as it does. With Yoongi’s raised eyebrow and muffled voice; red crumbs already dusting the corners of his lips. 

“No?” Namjoon’s own voice is muffled by a full bite of cupcake. His mind a mess trying to untangle the assumptions in Yoongi’s question. Namjoon’s always had more appetite than Yoongi, but it would be ridiculous to think that stayed the same throughout the older’s weight gain.

“Oh– Well I just thought…” Even with the awkwardness of his voice, Yoongi’s eyes trail up and down Namjoon’s body quickly. “Nevermind.” The chuckle sounds endeared, but nevertheless a tad embarrassed. It only leaves Namjoon in an impossibly more nervous state of mind. 

Maybe that's why his hand forces the next cupcake entirely in one go. Yoongi seems to resort to the same. Finding comfort in the rich chocolate taste, the cupcakes aren’t that big. And they’re too fluffy to be filling, in spite of the thick layer of frosting on top. That’s probably the reason why Namjoon feels so at ease working his way through it. But even with the choir of eating noises in the empty apartment, Namjoon still feels a need to ask. 

“What is it?” The six cupcakes are gone, he is licking his fingers clean of the frosting. Yoongi eyes the younger. But his hands are much more urgent than his, reaching for anything that he can shovel down his mouth in as little bites as possible. Right now it seems to be cookies and cream donut. Or well… Donuts the whole 6 pack of them. Grabbing two at once and squishing them together just to stretch his lips around them. Desperate to satiate his hunger in ways that are downright animalistic. Namjoon feels like he forgot his own question. 

“I don’t know… That you would use this entire Enhanced-boom for…” He shrugs vaguely. Now entirely avoiding Namjoon’s confused stare. “With your kink and all…” Namjoon’s belly twists almost painfully; stunned by the way Yoongi just purses his lips shrugging. “You always talked about gaining weight…” 

He is painfully reminded of just how close he and Yoongi are. Nights in their early twenties when they could talk about what they craved. What they thought was impossible. 

“It was just a fantasy, hyung.” It's Namjoon’s turn to look away, reaching for a cheesecake slice. Hoping the thickness of it can smooth out the growing lump in his throat. His own chewing sounds hopefully loud enough to mute out Yoongi’s words and the way they bounce around in his head. The older leans closer, with a dangerous creak from his chair. 

“Yeah, I know.” His chewing is loud too, helping to muffle out everything going on in his head. “But isn’t it the perfect time to put it to the test?” From the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see the way the fatty side of Yoongi’s body spills from the armrest, the way his weight is enough to tilt the chair slightly to the side; with threatening creaks. 

It's becoming a bit overwhelming. The warmthness in his stomach, only starting to become comfortably full. The uncomfortable wood of the chair, the even more uncomfortable questions that hang in the air above them. Yoongi’s looming presence irradiating heat onto Namjoon, his open mouth chewing, the chair’s distinct complaints. 

“Can we just not talk about it?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but the room is starting to feel cramped. Feels too big to hide what Yoongi already knows about him; cornered. Or maybe it's just the chair. 

“You asked.” Annoyance is clear in Yoongi’s voice. And he is right. Namjoon knows he is right. In a less panicked state of mind, he would’ve been able to act accordingly. 

“Well. I’m not a feedee, if that's what you thought.” Namjoon’s suspicions are right when he turns his head to look at Yoongi when he responds and sees the furrowed brow. And his own tone is no better, spiteful and protective. 

“Don’t get all defensive.” Yoongi isn’t looking away either. Leaning close enough Namjoon can see the specks of donut frosting collecting at the corners of his lips. The chair began to bend in Namjoon’s direction; accompanied by the melodic screeches of the metal and springs. It wouldn't be their first fight, they’ve been friends for decades after all. 

That's how he recognizes the dangerous smile that grows on Yoongi’s face. 

“You’re gaining like one.” He manages to say before the chair finishes tilting over to the side. Falling thunderously onto the floor, with Yoongi still on it. The noise of ft slapping his wooden floor almost loud enough as Yoongi’s pained groan. 

The tension dissipates as soon as it formed, as Namjoon pushes himself out of the wooden chair to lean and help Yoongi out and up. “Are you okay?” Yoongi’s pushing himself out by the armrest, trying to unsqueeze his fatty sides from the suffocating chair. 

“Y–Yeah… Yeah I’m okay.” He breathes out, face blushed, as Namjoon reaches behind him to pull the chair out of Yoongi too. Even if he can’t see his facial expression, Namjoon can pretty much hear the grimace when he asks. “Did it break?” 

“Don’t worry. It looks fine.” Chuckling seems like the only way to alleviate the tension, popping Yoongi out with a huff. It took a bit more effort than he thought it would, he is a little breathless. Tilting the chair back upright and giving it a tentative spin. “Yeah, looks alright-” His word is cut a little short when he sees Yoongi still on the ground. Their eyes meeting. 

“Help me up?” It's a bit of a pitiful sight. But Namjoon is glad to focus on something else. He wouldn’t say he is glad Yoongi tipped over, but the relief he feels from having escaped that conversation is very real in his chest. Nodding quickly as he squats down for Yoongi. Feeling his sweatpants squeeze him around the waistband as he takes the older’s hands. 

“Lets–” Namjoon has to concentrate not to tip over as well. He doesn’t want to think about what that says of his body. The waistband of his sweats cutting the air out of him. “Let’s sit you upright first.” He comments and Yoongi looks equally exhausted. Gripping Namjoon’s forearms as the younger tries to lift the weight of his huge torso up. Both of them grunting in effort just for Yoongi to sit upright. Belly making his thighs spread as the overhang sits comfily on the floor. 

“Now-Now the hard part.” Even through his laughter he is breathless. Just from that movement alone. Though Namjoon isn’t much better; he is actually doing some effort at least. Yoongi is just breathless from being tossed around; if you could even call it that. 

Miraculously almost, the front door opens. “Perfect timing.” He comments, eyeing the front door. 

“Yeah, you could barely sit me upright.” Yoongi snorts as Namjoon stands up straight again. Looking down at him with squinted eyes. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t call the fire department right away.” His foot pokes at the sagging overhang between Yoongi’s thighs. Pillowy and rippling through his entire stomach. “Jungkook-ah! Come here!” He yells, ignoring Yoongi’s weak swats at his foot. 

The loud thumps are clumsy throughout the apartment, a pink blush, dopey eyed Jungkook appearing on the doorway. Great, Taehyung got him drunk. 

“I’m here, I’m here…” Even in his sleepy waddles the apartment thumps, and Yoongi’s body jiggles with each one. “I told you to switch to a stronger chair, hyung.” He comments without a comment as he leans towards Yoongi. 

“He didn’t break it, he just tilted it over.” He rolls his eyes. “Can you help him?” The youngest is already squatting behind Yoongi, his rounded out bloat pressing to the backrolls of Yoongi’s back. Big hunky, yet pillowy arms appearing from under Yoongi’s fat winged ones. 

“Our Jungkookie is very strong.” Yoongi comments idly, earning a happy giggle from the man behind him. 

“I’ll try.''Jungkook's hand tentatively settled on the oldest’s chest, before groping it playfully. 

“Yah!” The giggles get louder as Jungkook groans, beginning to lift Yoongi’s weight. Hands genuinely sinking into the fat, by the sheer strength making him grope Yoongi’s sides. 

Namjoon himself a little too stunned, watching Jungkook’s thighs tremble. Mumbling a quiet ‘cooperate, hyung’ into Yoongi’s ear, before his chubby feet plant on the ground. Helping, if the sigh of relief Jungkook lets out is anything to go by. Taking slow backwards steps until he is setting Yoongi onto the bed ungracefully. 

“I could’ve done that myself.” He cups his belly to stop it from obviously wobbling at the impact. But Jungkook isn’t phased. 

“Maybe, but you got the full Jeon Jungkook service!” He beams, patting his hyung’s back maybe a bit too aggressively. “I’ll go to bed. But call me if there are any more incidents!” 

“There won’t be!” They both yell at the same time, causing one final giggle to bubble out of Jungkook’s chest as he exits to his room across the hallway. The sound of the door closing settling their fate in returning to the conversation they were having before. 

Where were they? 

Ah, of course. 

Talking about how much weight Namjoon apparently gained.

Chapter Text

The silence is tense, only their heavy breathing filling the room. Namjoon swears he can hear the loud thumb that’s Jungkook plopping on the bed. His head reeling in what he could say. Namjoon doesn’t know if it's the tense air, of the waistband of his sweats cutting his bloat in half that's making him feel so suffocated. 

He knows though, it's probably something to do with Yoongi’s words. Lingering in the air and sucking the voice out of his throat, too scared to talk about them; even if it means to let them sit in the quiet room. 

In unison, they speak. 

“Well, I should probably get going.” 

“I haven’t gained weight.” 

They hadn’t been looking at each other, but they do now. Snapping to look at the other, Namjoon standing while Yoongi sits on his bed, both of them a little stunned. Though Namjoon is probably the only one feeling this exposed by his choice of words. The scoff the older lets out doesn’t make him feel much better. 

“You can’t be serious, Joon.” He doesn’t like how particularly endeared Yoongi sounds. Condescending. The annoyance must show on his face because Yoongi’s eyebrow reaches his hairline, making little creases on his forehead. “Really.” It's not that much of a question as it's a deadpan. 

And, for the first time, Namjoon’s denial stutters. “I–I.. I haven’t- Well, I’m not…” His mouth feels dry as his hands anxiously gesture in Yoongi’s direction. Making the older snort. 

“Right. Because you’re not obese it means you haven't gained any weight at all.” 

At least he admits to being obese now…

“I mean… I’m sure I’ve gained s-some .” Namjoon breaks eye contact. Staring down at himself. Stomach tying itself in a knot. Properly looking at himself. 

Namjoon is met with the curve of his stomach. Protruding forward, nearly covering the view of his feet. His shirt stretched obscenely over the mounds of fat collected at his chest. Hands hovering above the sight of his belly. A belly. He puts a name to it then, the feeling of his clothes caging him in. Squeezing him along the hem that doesn’t seem to cover the entirety of his dome, clinging to his sides, hugging his chest. 

“You… really didn’t notice?” Yoongi’s voice doesn’t sound as irritated, genuinely shocked. 

When he takes a step back, his body jiggles in rhythm to his shaky step. He feels the way the waistband of his sweatpants digs into his pudgy hips, fat on his thighs wobbling enclosed in the tight confines. And the feeling is shocking enough to make Namjoon’s face snap up to stare at the older. 

“Namjoon…” His tone is laced with pity and gentleness, that do nothing to ease his stammering heart. “It’s really oka-” 

“You should probably go.” He nods quickly. The panic in his face must be evident, because Yoongi doesn’t seem to take it personally. Wide eyed at Namjoon as if he were about to collapse. Too careful of the younger he doesn't even ask for help to stand up. Namjoon can hear his heartbeat rattling between his ears. Eyes strained on Yoongi, forcing himself to not look at himself. Watching as the older huffs and manages to stand, waddling past Namjoon as he escorts him to the door in suffocating silence. 

Each step they take, Namjoon feels the hem of his shirt shift up his sides. The plush on his sides brushes against his arms as they swing methodically forward and back. His entire body overtaken by a sensation of rocking- no… bouncing. 

No. 

Jiggling . 

He can feel himself shudder. And trying to contain it just because he can hear Yoongi panting and waddling behind him. It's almost robotic, the way he opens the door for his friend. Yoongi looking at him like he is crazy, he can’t blame him, Namjoon feels close to the brink. The brink of what? He doesn’t even know.

“Text me when you get home.” Namjoon mumbled, eyeing Yoongi. And the anxiety creeping and twisting at his stomach must be seen through in his face, because the older looks at him a little empathetic. Namjoon hates it. He knows better than to say anything at least. Only humming as he slowly, painfully slowly, gets out. 

Namjoon can’t hide the slam of the door as he leans against it, feeling suddenly breathless. He doesn’t want to think about why. But he doesn’t think he has a choice. His back feels plush against the door, comfortable. Eyes closed shut as a shield for himself, but it's no use to the images of his body just from moments before. In morbid curiosity looking back down again to be met with the same horrific sight. 

Fat. Namjoon has gotten fat . And he doesn’t know how. 

Or well… 

He remembers bits of it. The way Jungkook’s bulk-oriented grocery shopping had started influencing his diet. Or how he ditched his bike rides; opting for Jungkook or any other of his friends to drive him. The blatant way in which all of Namjoon’s world had gotten tighter, snug , around him; squeezing into his clothes, into the chairs, into changing room showers. His unathleticism the one to blame for the way he became so breathless after jerking off, after trotting to catch a bus, after getting up off the couch in a haste to get the takeout he ordered.

The blur of his memory becomes clearer, sharper. Turning into an almost blatant showcase of his weight gain. But… Namjoon never ate Enhanced meat, he never liked the taste of it. All of this couldn’t have been caused by the single time he’d tried it with his friends, could it? 

“Hyung? You okay?” Jungkook yells from his room. Naturally, after having heard Namjoon practically kick Yoongi out on a whim. Setting panic into his stomach. 

He can’t be seen like this. 

“Yeah, yeah! Yoongi just had a work emergency!” A lie slips out quickly, as the flight response makes him push himself up from where he was leaning against the closed door. Feeling suddenly too naked, too exposed, too big , to be out in the open. The rattling sensation of his stomach makes itself impossible to ignore as he struts towards his room. Pretty much feeling the floor under him tremble slightly with the impacts of his steps. Namjoon can’t even be sure how much of it is just his anxiety playing with his imagination, or if his denial has really made him capable of ignoring this much. 

Namjoon busts into his room. Aiming straight of the full length mirror, the one behind his door, the one he usually forgets is there. The one that slaps Namjoon across the face when he closes the door and catches a glimpse of himself. 

He didn’t eat Enhanced meat, that much is true. 

But the dairy. It shows in every inch of Namjoon’s padded body. The cheese, creamy and oily, ricotta-like texture showing on his thighs even through the sweatpants, cellulite dorning the thickest part of his legs. Dents showing through the poor stretched seams of the fabric. Ice cream showing itself in the doughy expanse of his stomach, pillowy and smooth and stretching the fabric enough to ride up his heft love handles; that were squeezed over the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Creamy and fluffy muffin top jiggling even as Namjoon hastily strips his shirt off; tan skin littered in slightly darker stretch marks, some new, but many of them already healed with time. His belly pushed forward enough to start obstructing the line of sight of his feet, but still felt tender and easy to the touch, letting his hand (also seemingly chubbed up through the reflection in the mirror) grope into it like butter. 

His pecs have puffed up, jutting forward and sagging downwards, buttery and juicy with fat. Enlarged nipples, brown and deliciously puffy; ready for milking. All the cream he’s been ritually adding to all his meals peeks in the little folds that adorn his armpits, the sides of his waist; the fold under his jaw. Thick but squishy, moulding against his chest when Namjoon looks down at himself. Following the line of sight of his hand, all across his arm the soft adding of chub shows across his arm. The once slender, or even muscular extremity looking and feeling hefty. Wings weighing them down as he stretches them out for closer inspection; wobbly and undefined. 

Namjoon fears to turn around, just as much as twisting his torso to the side reveals the deepening creases and folds that stack on his sides. The very ones making all his shirts feel like compression shirts. 

Though, right now, Namjoon thinks a straitjacket would fit him better. 

His moobs have started beginning to expand their reign into a slight but very much there back roll. As his love handles and the deeper, girthier rolls on his side already sit comfortable on his back too. Obstructing his movement, making Namjoon cramped into his own body. He can feel the sweat that collects between the folds just from moving slightly, feeling the glide of them against one another; smooth with sweat Namjoon produced just from standing up and walking Yoongi to the door. 

He needs to sit down. Namjoon decides dazed, feeling his head spin in what he can only describe as complete stupefaction. Plopping himself heavily in the desk chair Yoongi had occupied before him. At least it doesn’t creak, but Namjoon can still feel the armrests digging into his sides menacingly. The weight of his protruding gut sits on his lap, taking up most of it as his chunky thighs take over the entire seat, overspilling from the sides where they can. It's suffocating, even without the burden of carrying around his fattened frame, Namjoon feels impossibly bigger; squeezed into the chair that was supposed to fit him. 

Looking up trying to catch his breath, Namjoon catches a whiff of something else. He tilts his head back down to his desk. He had kicked Yoongi out before they could even properly start to eat; leaving behind a banquet of desserts. Namjoon doesn’t have room in his mind to feel guilty. Stomach churning in something other than anxiety; complaining in a low growl that makes some of his belly fat rattle. 

He’s hungry. And fat already. 

And, through the shame and panic… A little bit aroused. 

His eyes gloss over the three big bags, most of them still full. Before launching his fat arms onto the feast. Not caring what his hands land on as he brings it to him. It happens to be a pack of 6 cinnamon rolls; thick and fluffy and coated in sticky frosting. Namjoon is already letting his jaw hang low as he brings the first one to his mouth. Stretching his lips and letting frosting coat the corners of his lips. Namjoon can feel the padding under his chin press against his chest. Moaning at the sweet flavour as he attempts to push the entire thing into his mouth in one go. 

It feels as if Namjoon had been starving for months, depriving himself, trying to hold back instead of letting go like the rest of his friends. But did he ever succeed? His body says otherwise. Shows all of Namjoon’s overindulgences, all of his lethargic lifestyle choices. 

He’s been holding back for nothing . All those fantasies he’s projected onto his friends, his high horse feeding his ego but neglecting his wants. Namjoon doesn't hold back, relishes on the way his belly folds onto thicker rolls on his middle as he reaches for more food. Letting himself go properly, finally. Animalistically eating his way through the cinnamon rolls at first, but then the next thing he can get his hands on. Which happens to be a platter fudge brownies. Namjoon can practically taste the calories off them as they turn to mush in his mouth. Letting the dark chocolate tint his lips and stretch his cheeks enough he can’t close his mouth fully. Rolling his eyes back as he feels the food suffocating him, his own eating stuffing his cheeks to the point he has to take deep conscious breaths through his nose. All the blood circulation goes down to his ballooning stomach, but downwards as well. Dick throbbing in the restrictions of his pants. Bulging against his bloat that presses against his lap giving it friction.

His hips urge to hump upwards just to make his ballooned stomach bounce as a single unit against his hard on. Though over it all Namjoon can feel the pudgy layer of fat rippling with each impact of his lap. Just this motion alone makes him breathless. Thin layer of sweat causing his shirt to cling to his body, hair moist against his forehead. The fudge brownies are the only thing muffling his breathy moans. 

It feels so good, cramped but liberating, so full but ravenous nonetheless. His body goes on autopilot as he scarfs down whatever he can get his hands on. So mindlessly it really shows that Namjooon must’ve been doing something along these lines even before he realised. He remembers getting back with Yoongi, how he didn’t need meat to behave like a pig. To turn into one. All of their comments, the subtle warnings, the teasings. 

They knew… They knew Namjoon was gorging himself into a hog and didn’t do anything. Letting him eat his way into outgrowing his own clothes, his chair. Letting Namjoon obliviously tease them, feel better about himself, as if he hadn’t been swept into the addictive side effects of his own product. 

Could he even be blamed for that, though? Is Namjoon a victim of side effects? He knows it's true for everyone else. But him… He’s wanted this, suppressing the fantasy deep into himself; though that didn’t help in weakening his desires. Oblivious enough to think he was projecting onto everybody else; while his body fattened for everyone to see. 

If he had gotten this fat by accident… 

What size would he be able to achieve if he starts putting in the effort? 

A startling knock on his door nearly makes him choke on the red velvet slice he was gorging on. “Hyung?? Did you guys get anything to eat?” Jungkook’s voice sounds muffled. 

Namjoon looks at the massacre of desserts, there's still some left even through the disaster that is his desk right now. But that thought is overrun by the panic of getting caught like this, forcing his throat to swallow the almost entire slice in one go, brushing off the crumbs that collected at his face, chin and chest. And putting both of his hands into the armrests of the chair to help himself get up, feeling like he’s swallowed a boulder that sits at the bottom of his stomach. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, trying to clean most of the mess before he realises it's futile. Voice sounding breathless just from standing up and scavenging for all the empty plastic containers already. 

“A little…” Jungkook confesses, and Namjooon can practically hear the pout through his voice. 

“We got dessert for dinner. Does that work?” He is still halfway through cleaning up as he asks that question. Very much unprepared for when his words prompt Jungkook to excitedly open the door and let himself in. Giddy grin already adorning his face. 

“I’m always up for dessert.” He chirps as Namjoon is halfway through trying to stuff all the containers into the trash can. The older squeaks. 

“I–I was just cleaning up after Yoongi h-hyung’s mess.” Jungkook’s eyes widened at the sight, not looking convinced. 

“Did he eat all that in the bit of time he was here?” He doesn’t like the chuckle attached to the end of the younger’s sentence. 

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised, Kook. You saw the size of him.” Namjoon mumbles, uncaring of how bitchy it sounds. Anything to ease attention away from the whiff of wind that gushes against his naked overhang. 

“He did all the damage himself?” Their eyes meet for a quick glance before Namjoon sees the knowing look in Jungkook’s eyes and adverts them elsewhere immediately.

“I guess I helped a little.” His voice gets progressively quieter. Namjoon is about to offer the leftovers already just to get jungkook off his back. 

“I could hear everything, hyung.” Namjoon particularly hates the flinch tied to the younger’s voice. “I don’t know why you’re playing dumb about it…” The lump in Namjoon’s throat thickens; lips opening and closing trying to scramble for something to say. 

Everything?

“So… Any leftovers for me?” Jungkook must sense the complete and utter embarrassment from his roommate as he changes the subject, for Namjoon’s sake. Though he can’t help but feel even more embarrassed by the younger’s pity. As if catching himself before he goes further into teasing Namjoon about his weight; in an attempt to protect the older’s sanity. 

Or just letting Namjoon humiliate himself even more than he already has. 

“Yeah… Yeah just take these.” He mindlessly passes the containers left. Just three of them really. Namjoon had really managed to eat almost all of it. It's both thrilling and terrifying, he truly has no actual measure of how much he’s been eating these past months. Probably because he hangs out around such pigs. As Jungkook hurries, he can’t get the bitter aftertaste off his tongue.

Have they held back from saying anything about Namjoon’s gain, the same way he’s been holding back from speaking up about theirs? 

It happens suddenly. A casual proposal in their group chat, about when could they possibly see eachother again, all 7 of them. Taehyung almost teasingly announced he is free this very weekend. Probably not expecting a choir of replies saying the same. 

But here they were, Saturday night, Taehyung’s place this time; almost comically eccentric in its decor and much bigger than Namjoon and Jungkook’s shared apartment; where they hung out last time. Only a few days after Namjoon’s big epiphan; still trying to come to terms with his newfound size. Easier than he expected. 

Yet the suspicion towards his best friends stayed the same. Keeping Namjoon up at night rethinking his last interactions with all of them. Trying to find any sign of them hinting at his substantial weight gain. But alas… He can’t remember much. 

That’s why he comes into this event with a plan. 

Test how far he can take it before any of them say something. 

“I still can’t believe you all actually came.” Taehyung comments walking after the waddling Jimin, the last one to come. At least that has stayed the same throughout these months of so much change. Jimin remains the one who is perpetually late to everything, un-discriminatorily. Though the way he breathlessly waddles towards a chair, one that Namjoon doesn’t even know if he’ll properly fit into, is starkly different. 

“Have a little bit more faith in us.” Seokjin snorts, already sitting. Namjoon can swear his belly is brushing the table; judging by the way it sinks into the edge of it every time he leans for another handful of chips. Taehuyng takes a seat next to him. 

With the sight of all seven of them across the table, the sheer amount of weight all of them gained becomes even more evident. Seven people, all in various degrees of overweight. Instead of making them blend together, or make Namjoon feel less overweight himself; he feels the hot shock of shame. Knowing he is just like the rest of his friends; gluttonous and fattened beyond return. 

“We arranged this in like, what? 3 days?” Taehyung too reaches for some snacks to munch on through his next sentence. “You can’t blame me for doubting.” 

“I was starting to think it was a universal law that we can’t get together without a month’s notice.” Even the smallest one of them has become properly chubby, Namjoon notes, eyeing Hoseok talk. “This felt like we were toying with the universe and it was gonna get one of us for it.” He’d consider it a joke if it weren’t for the little shudder Hoseok lets out, letting it all jiggle. Namjoon is only able to witness it from where he is sitting, right next to Hoseok. 

“It’s not the universe.” Yoongi rolls his eyes sitting across from Namjoon. He didn't hesitate to take two of Taehyung’s chairs to sit more comfortably. And Jimin is eyeing him like he’s considering it too. “I’m free all the time. The problem is these three.” He gestures to Jimin, Seokjin and Taehyung. “Who are always busy all the time.” 

The first to jump is Seokjin. “You can’t have a restaurant closed on weekends, Yoongi-ah. It’s not my fault!” 

“I have work too!” Jimin defends quickly.

“I…” Taehyung seems to think about it. “Have nothing to defend myself with, you’re right.” The doorbell rings and the entire table of heads perk up. “Food is here.” He comments, setting both hands on the table to lift himself up with a bit of a huff. Already by the door, possibly chatting with the delivery guy when he screams. “Someone come help me!” Squawking a bit. 

All eyes go to one person. “Fine…” Jungkook rolls his eyes, rushing to the rescue. Some things never change; that's at least somewhat comforting. 

Though the soothing feeling doesn’t last long in Namjoon’s stomach, as he sees the youngest pair bring back the ridiculous amount of food. At least six bags hanging on each of their arms. Their bellies sit on the table as they lean to set the bags down in front of all of them. 

“I wasn’t gonna ask what each one of you wanted to order.” Taehyung defends himself before any of them can complain. 

“So you got everything?” Jungkook is the one to whine. It’s fair since he was the victim of carrying everything Taehyung considered essential for tonight. 

“It's nothing you can’t handle.” The house owner retorts, smiling a bit teasingly. Eyeing all of his fat friends… His eyes meet Namjoon’s once too. And that hellish heat of embarrassment rakes its way through his system. 

It feels… good . It feels really good. 

“Just hand it over already.” It urges Namjoon to complain. Not only is he hungry, but eager to show them what a pig he can turn himself into.

“Shit, Joonie, I totally forgot about getting a vegetarian option...” Taehyung winces, and he sees genuine guilt in his eyes. But for once, Namjoon isn’t phased. 

“I’m so hungry I’ll eat anything.” He can feel the eyes widening around the room. And he knows Namjoon of a few weeks ago would’ve been shocked as well. But… It’s just this once, right? 

He had managed to get this far just on dairy products alone. What's the harm in wanting to see how full he can get of meat? Meat genetically enlarged, unnaturally fatty. 

Like him.

Like all of them. 

“You sure? I can order something else…” Taehyung is so attentive. He almost feels bad for his own perverted intentions. 

“What? Don’t think I can handle what you guys eat?” The chuckle at the end of his sentence hopefully shows Namjoon isn’t serious. Taehyung’s amused smile says that it worked.

“Oh, I’m sure you can, Joon-ah.” Yoongi snorts, already reaching for a bag of food himself nonchalantly in his tone. But after their last encounter it feels particularly targeted. 

And Namjoon loves it. 

“It’s your creation after all.” Seokjin shrugs, not nearly as implicit as Yoongi’s comment, digging through the bag pulling out what looks like a burger. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” It wouldn't be the first time he asks Seokjin something like this, but it's the first time Namjoon actually wants to hear him say it. 

“Makes sense that you like your own product.” He looks at Namjoon then a small smile on his face, cheeks stretched by the burger. “I mean, you’ve kind of gone crazy about the enhanced dairy products anyway, haven’t you?” 

“I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long without tasting the meat, hyung.” Jungkook comments with genuine awe in his eyes. “It’s so good.” As he is moaning that last bit out, he is opening his mouth to fit a comically large bite of what looks like a fried chicken sandwich into his lips. 

“I will now… Thanks to Tae.” He smiles endeared through his teasing, a success when the younger whines. 

“I already apologised!” 

“Honestly I cut the vegan diet early on… It was too hard to resist.” Hoseok frowns with a bit of a pout on his face. 

“Same… After Jungkook’s fried chicken, pretty much.” Jimin sympathises, both of them having reached for the sloppy joe sandwiches. Namjoon can’t think of anything less vegan. He reaches for a container and finds a traditional bacon and cheese burger. 

This is less vegan. Something about that excites him. Namjoon wants to eat the fattiest thing in the room. Too bad his friends are off the menu.

“You cut off meat, to diet. Namjoon genuinely just doesn’t like it.” Yoongi explains through mouthfuls of food but Namjoon isn’t paying attention anymore. Instead bracing himself as he unwraps the tinfoil off his juicy burger. “Of course he was gonna last longer than you two repressed fatties.” His fingers sink into the burger admiring the grease that pours out; in the background he hears Hoseok scoff. 

“Well it's not like his dieting without meat is going that much better.” Is the last thing he hears before, without giving himself time to hold back is opening his lips and sinking his teeth into the burger. Tender and buttery as he tears through the layers of patty, bacon and cheese. Strong flavours he’s deprived himself form for years invading his taste buds. 

And maybe it's Namjoon’s newfound taste for grease, for fat. But it tastes delicious. He doesn’t mean to, but a moan vibrates at the back of his throat. Making several heads turn in his direction with raised eyebrows. 

“Tsk, didn’t dislike it that much, either.” Jimin grumbles, though there’s an amused giggle attached at the end of his words. It only fuels Namjoon to take another mouthful of the burger, barely done swallowing the first. “Been eating behind our back, Namjoonie?” 

“Don’t be mean.” Taehyung is the one to sush him. “It’s obvious he has.” He says in a much quieter tone, as if Namjoon was becoming too immersed in the meal to even listen. Maybe he was. 

“I haven’t–  haven’t been eating that much more.” He is a victim, like all of them. “Tell them, Kook-ah.” Namjoon still has a joking smile in his voice. Until Jungkook’s face contorts into something guiltier. 

“I mean… You started eating a bit more than me recently.” Namjoon doesn’t like the way the younger cringed as he spoke. 

“But you’re always making caloric bombs for your bulking. It's not the same.” He can’t help the slight defensive tone of his voice, even taking time to swallow his mouthful of burger just to make himself sound more convincing. No, Namjoon is like them, a victim of the fattening qualities of the Enhanced products, just like them.

And, okay, maybe Jungkook isn’t as fat as Namjoon. But muscle is heavier than fat, surely he weighs more. 

“Feisty.” Seokjin giggles, not looking Namjoon in the eyes as he says it. Probably because he predicted Namjoon would snap his face up to look at him accusingly. He does look up then. “What?” 

Maybe almost the entire burger, sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He didn’t notice how he ate it so fast. But Namjoon finds himself telling the truth. “I didn’t realise I had gotten fat until a week or so ago.” His friend’s expressions widened genuinely. 

“Aigo…” Seokjin grimaces sympathetically. In the tense silence he feels compelled to elaborate. 

“I’m still getting used to it… I mostly just wish I could’ve started enjoying it earlier.” He tries to shrug it off. Add maybe a nervous chuckle at the end of his sentence. But the silence stays mostly the same. 

“Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself regardless.” Jimin smiles a bit knowing, looking up and down Namjoon’s enlarged body. And honestly, the older one is just relieved that someone spoke at all. Giggling at the comment. He is right, he is absolutely right. 

“Unconsciously, but yeah.” He finds solace in Jimin’s grin, teasing but mostly endeared. Namjoon is sure he understands the feeling. 

“Don’t let us stop you, then. Go on.” Yoongi is the one to insist. Though, yet again, with his knowledge of Namjoon’s kink it feels particularly exposing. The vulnerability makes something churn at the pit of his stomach. 

He realises, it might just be hunger. 

Namjoon scans the room, in search of support, but he finds something even better. Everyone sinking their teeth back into their meal. Taking it as an open invitation to do the same. The flavour that greets him is just as juicy and delicious as he remembered it. For once enjoying the silence accompanied by the choir of chewing and humming. Feeling no shame as he ends up finishing the burger and wordlessly reaching for something else. 

“Can’t believe I offered him something veggie.” Taehyung mumbles to his right, to Hoseok. 

His eyes go to Namjoon with a smile. “Clearly he was holding back.” Talking about him as if he were too lost in the flavour, he probably was. Namjoon can feel the apples of his cheeks begin to burn, feeling like a complete glutton, as the closest thing he could grab was a girthy burrito; one that has sauce dripping down his hands, and stains his chin red with sauce. 

“Maybe he tried to convince himself he didn’t like meat to stop himself?” Jungkook interjects sympathetically. “I tried.” 

“How’s that working out for you two?” Seokjin deadpans with a raised eyebrow, eyes scanning the two roommates. And he’s absolutely right to question it, Namjoon managed to double in size even without a single bite of meat. And Jungkook, well, he turned himself into a slab of meat himself. Too flustered to interject, Namjoon buries himself in burrito, stretching his cheeks to the brim, lulling his thoughts, just like he had been doing unconsciously for the past months. And succeeding, considering how fat he got. 

Feeling himself becomes the object of ridicule and from such fat people too. He still couldn’t believe he had gotten himself to that point. But the slow tightening of his belly, fully aware of the way it expands across his lap, slowly but surely, gave away that Namjoon was very much capable of that. 

Probably more capable than all of them, considering the accidental nature of his weight gain. 

“Well I think Namjoon got just what he was looking for.” Yoongi’s smile is ever menacing, as if threatening to spill away Namjoon’s secret. But is that any threat? When he’s transformed himself into a blatant image of self indulgence?

“And what’s that?” He dares to ask, through mouthfuls of food that muffle his voice. A daring tone hinting at his voice. The embarrassment Namjoon has put himself through, his lack of self awareness, the high horse he sat on for these past months, from where he watched his friends fatten, was humiliating enough. 

Namjoon is too fat to get on the high horse. He just wants to see if Yoongi would sink as low as him. 

“Right now, it's that garlic steak burrito.” Jimin giggles a bit amused, thumb rubbing the corner of his lips gesturing to Namjoon. He opts for the much more ungraceful, greasy with burger juice and burrito sauce, back of his hand. To swipe across his face, possibly making it worse. “Aish, you eat like a pig.” Even if it has an endearing tone; Namjoon makes a decision. 

He himself, is willing to sink that low.

“You’re one to talk, Jimin.” The chuckle he attaches at the end of his sentence isn’t enough to stop the younger’s eyebrows to shoot up his hairline indignantly. 

“Excuse me?” He giggles too. But it feels just as disingenuous as Namjoon’s. 

“Stuffing yourself in front of thousands of people.” Namjoon feels the need to shrug, his lips pursing, was there any need to even explain himself? 

“He has a point.” Hoseok interjects, his eyes gliding over Jimin who’s own hands and lips are stained in barbeque sauce. 

“It’s obviously just for show.” Jimin folds his arms, fat on his chest pushing into a cleavage; visible even over his shirt. “It’s not my fault if that's what the people want to see.” The way he looks at Namjoon feels a little bit judging. But he guesses it’s his own fault for making his presence known at Jimin’s anniversary live. “What’s your excuse?” 

It startles him a bit. Namjoon doesn’t have an excuse. 

“I–I mean…” He starts and finishes swallowing his bite, the last one of the burrito, hands automatically going to wipe themselves on his shirt. “Even the dairy line of–of Enhanced products has more protein in it.” He realises how weak of an argument that is once it’s left his lips; especially the way it doesn’t answer Jimin’s question in the slightest. He can feel his face really starting to burn, as the rest of the table begins to play closer attention. 

“So you got fat on it.” Seokjin deadpans. “That doesn’t mean you lose your manners.” 

“You have…” Jungkook comments quietly. 

“Well, yes. But Taehyung hasn’t.” 

“Thank you for recognizing it. I’m pretty much the only one left.” He smiles with a clean face and boxy grin. “But I ‘got fat on it’ too.” He chuckles off Seokjin’s wording. Just when the conversation flow seems to be regaining its natural course, Namjoon can’t help himself.

Once he’s allowed himself to talk about it, he doesn’t feel capable of holding back anymore. 

“You all have.” His comments quiets the room. Namjoon seems to perpetually do so during the course of this dinner. 

“Not gonna include yourself there?” Yoongi muses. 

“Jin hyung already did.” Is the quick, much more convincing, rebuttal he could come up with. 

“Except you’re the one fattening everybody up.” Hoseok’s comment startles him a bit, but it seems to startle everyone else. “Since you made it.” He shouldn’t feel proud about the particular sassiness tied to Hoseok's voice, as if he resents Namjoon for what he did to the spinning trainer.

“What does that have to do with anything?” If his voice sounds higher than normal, it has everything to do with the fact that Hoseok so easily acknowledged what Namjoon has been fearing anybody would discover these past months. 

“That you treat all of us like pigs, as if you hadn’t caused this yourself.” Jungkook’s tone isn’t nearly as defensive, but his pouty lips are no reassurance to Namjoon. Who can feel his ass begin to sweat where it's cramped onto the chair. 

“You can’t blame me for your weight gain.” He chuckles through his words, though his nerves only make his guiltiness more obvious. “It could’ve been anything!” 

“Like the insane amount of trans fats and protein genetically added onto our food?” The cutting edge isn’t clinging to Jimin’s voice anymore. Maybe because the accusations have washed off his back by now. “I know because I used to worry about looking at the label so much.” He laughs a bit at himself. “Got me nowhere though.” 

“A successful fetish content career?” Taehyung prompts and Jimin nods pursing his lips in consideration. Namjoon doesn’t even have time to process them just acknowledging it. Kudos for the lack of stigma , he guesses. 

“Joon, we aren't upset or anything. We know it's not all your fault.” Seokjin reassures, but it very much feels like this whole thing is his fault. 

And as if the guilt of that alone wasn’t enough; the guilt of enjoying it is even worse. 

“But outright denying it had any impact is a bit ridiculous at this point.” He is being gentle with Namjoon. But the panic he fears, the vulnerability and exposure breathing down his neck. It forces him to panic. 

“You can’t blame me for your eating habits.” He shrugs off maybe a little bit more defensive than he intended, crossing his chubbed up arms over his chest, relishing how everything just squishes together. But he can feel the air around him turn colder as Seokjin’s expression hardens. 

“Maybe you don’t like admitting, so you don’t have to admit it had an effect on you too.” He retorts. And for once, Namjoon can’t even seem to grapes for something to say back; convincing or not. Face turning red under the 6 stares looking at him, like Seokjin is absolutely right. Like Namjoon isn’t overspilling a bit from the chair already, or the waistband of his jeans isn’t sinking into his bloat already; as if the taste of meat wasn’t making his insides churn with a sudden sprout of hunger. 

“I’m a little tired… Of you treating us like you’re above it all.” Jimin’s voice is softer, but not at all less menacing, even leaning closer to Namjoon, the two chairs he’s taken up, creaking a bit. He grabs one of the few scattered containers left. “Like you’re not as fat as us.” He pulls out a fried chicken sandwich. Namjoon feels himself stiffen, yet does nothing to push Jimin away.

Not that Jimin gives him much time.  Mumbling a cort. “You still have room.” Before he is shoving a mouthful of it past Namjoon’s plump lips; muffling the surprised sound that vibrates at his throat. 

“That’ll get him to let go…” Hoseok chuckles under his breath, his eyes meeting Namjoon’s; a satisfied smile on his face. 

“He already has, look at him.” Yoongi is the one to continue, so coincidentally similar to what Namjoon told Jungkook about him. 

“Said he enjoys it too.” Seokjin comments idly. “Do you like feeling like a pig, Namjoon-ah?” Their eyes meet right when the older is tilting his head questioningly. Not that Namjoon has time to take a breath, let alone to answer. Jimin’s smile mischievous as he forces huge mouthfuls of chicken into his mouth. 

“He gorges like this all the time at home.” It shouldn't feel as exposing, not when his body is a living image of what overeating looks like. But Jungkook’s words make shivers run down his spine. “I thought he was doing it on purpose at first. Now I think he just can’t help himself.” 

Has he really been eating that much? Namjoon feels like he’s been so focused on Jungkook’s portions he didn’t leave space in his mind to care about the size of his own meals. But he sees them now, he has no choice but to. With the wya his stomach easily adapts to Jimin’s forceful feeding, still with room for more; even when his sides have started brushing the armrests of Taehyung’s chair. 

Speaking of, Taehyung bites his lips like he’s considering joining. “Why hold back, then?” He leans closer, his thumb whipping, where sauce has begun to collect in the corner of Namjoon’s lips. Making him feel impossibly more caged in. “When it's obvious how much he likes to see us and himself fatten up?” Jimin pushes the last few bites of the sandwich right when Namjoon widens at the younger’s words. Remembering what he confessed in their night out together. His eyes can only open in panic though, cheeks far too stretched with the last pieces of food to speak up. 

“Yeah…” Jimin lets go of him, smiling almost sympathetically. Namjoon feels like he can finally breathe again, though his heart pumps erratically and severely aroused. “Once you get used to it, it's really easy to enjoy.” 

The doorbell rings again. 

“Desserts here.” Yoongi announces, and all eyes go to Jungkook again. 

“Fine. But someone can help.” Before anyone can offer he is holding onto Seokjin’s sleeve as he huffs up to stand, ballooned belly protruding out. But Namjoon can’t fully pay attention to it. Still thinking about Jimin’s words. 

He’ll have to get used to it, then.