littleblur - Tumblr blog

littleblur · 2 years

Text

making ends meet by making clothes brust.

this is VERY LATE bday gift for my dear friend @chubbypinkminnie !! it was so fun to write and im really happy with how it came out, and you got him to thank for ! 💜💜💜

12.k words

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Summary: Hoseok and his roommate agree to get second jobs. But Yoongi's suspicious behavior makes Hoseok investigate for himself, and find out something he wasn't ready to know.

tags: pwp , porn without plot , sope , chubby yoongi , feedee min yoongi , public space , exhibicionism , name calling , maid/master , d/s dynamics , handjobs , stuffing , ripping clothes , body shaming , humiliation , friends with benefits , mentions of drug use and drug selling , sex work?

Even if both Hoseok and Yoongi had agreed that having a job was a compulsory requirement to share an apartment together. There's only so much a freelance music producer and a literature major fresh out of college can offer against the ever growing rent prices.

Hoseok holds the bill in his hand while they both look down at it, the silence in this two bedroom apartment never felt so loud.

“We should look for a second job.” Yoongi is the one that voices their thoughts into existence.

“We should.”

A wordless agreement to keep this perfect arrangement they got going on. No they weren't necessarily friends. But Hoseok has had better coexistence with this random guy than he would’ve had with most of his friends. Yoongi is just as tidy as he is, he is a morning person just like Hoseok (even if he sees the light of his room turned on when he arrives from going out sometimes), Hoseok makes sure not to be too extroverted having people over, and he doesn’t try to coax Yoongi out of his room when he does.

It's just seamless and perfect. And if he has to pick up tutoring some uninterested middle schooler to keep this apartment with Yoongi, he will.

A no-brainer really, it was easy to find some desperate parent who needed their kid to pass. So that's what Hoseok started doing to bring the money in. The parents spread the word round and suddenly he’s got a handful of students that rely on him explaining the basic plot of whatever overused book is in a middle school or highschool syllabus. Easy money.

He assumed Yooongi would follow something similar, you know! Maybe DJ in some event, a wedding, a quinicañera… Or anything really! Didn’t have to be in relation to producing music. That's the good thing about their relationship, Hoseok simply does not have to know. So when he sees Yoongi leave with a gym bag slung over his shoulder, announcing he is going to work, Hoseok is not curious, he is relieved!

Hoseok perked up when he heard the door being unlocked and his roommate stepped out looking exhausted after his first day. That wasn’t the shocking part, though. It was the fact that Yoongi had left at 8 am for his first day of work, and only just returned at 6pm, that had Hoseok so distraught.

“Hey.” Yoongi greets, unceremoniously. Gym bag hanging heavy on his shoulder.

“Hey…10 hours in the first day, huh?” There's a chuckle at the end of that sentence, but his smile is worried. He sat a bit upright from where he was sitting studying at their coffee table. Through the tiredness he catches the way Yoongi’s face scrunches a bit, nervous but silent as he focuses on kicking off his shoes.

“I had to learn everything on the first day, so it took a while.” Hoseok’s eyes follow as Yoongi leaves his gym bag in his room before coming back. “My shifts should be normal from now on.” He sits behind the younger on the couch.

“What was this job again?” Hoseok goes back to skimming through the mess of papers that is the coffee table.

“I’m just a waiter.” He can hear Yoongi shuffling to get his phone while he says it.

“A job in hospitality… I never would've guessed, Yoongi-ah.” He glances over his shoulder giggling without malice. “Really different from your freelance work.”

And the older is smiling back at him, tired but fond. “I can be hospitable.”

He leans back to rest against the couch in between Yoongi’s legs. “You can be! Until there’s some old lady screaming for a refund and invading your personal space.” Hoseok has worked at Starbucks, he’s seen enough.

“I doubt that. Only cool people go.” His gums are showing. It's a bit relieving to see how happy Yoongi is about the job.

“I’ll come visit you someday then.” He elbows at Yoongi’s knee while he says it.

“Sorry, no literature tutor could ever be cool enough.” There's no malice to his tone, but Hoseok pretends to be outraged anyways. Scoffing and slapping Yoongi’s knee before he turns back to face his papers.

“This lame literature tutor was going to offer to take care of dinner” Hoseok has to hold back his smile while he says it, the silence of the older is deafening as he tries to hold back. “It was going to be takeout…” He says ‘casually’, grinning at the sound of Yoongi’s groan.

“Fine, fine, you are not as lame as the others.”

When the younger turns to look over his shoulder with squinted eyes Yoongi is smiling knowingly; much to Hoseok’s playful frustration. “I’m the only literature tutor in your life.”

“That means you’re already cooler than them by association.”

Hoseok shakes his head in disbelief. “You are annoying.” But Yoongi’s smile only widens.

“So what do you want for dinner?” His change of subject is barely subtle and it just makes the whole thing funnier in Hoseok's mind. Giggling as he fishes his phone from the mess of literature essays.

“I want sushi.” It comes as a matter of fact, to let Yoongi know that no, he doesn't get a say…Though it's also partly because he knows it's one of his roommates' favorites.

“Perfect, just order a few more than what you’d have for yourself.” And when Hoseok raises a confused eyebrow at him, it coaxes a bit more from the older. “I ate some leftovers at work.”

Even if it makes perfect sense, Hoseok was kind of looking forward to buying Yoongi a good dinner after such a long day. “Hm, okay, though you can always just put it in the fridge it should last you till lunch tomorrow. I could order some more.” He suggests going through his phone.

“Yeah but do we trust our fridge to work?”

It's the fact that it's a genuine question that makes high-pitched giggles burst off Hoseok's chest. “No yeah, you’re right.” His voice still shakes a little with laughter. “No leftovers.”

He follows Yoongi’s instructions, and just orders a few more than he would for himself. But the older complained at the sight of the order anyways, closing his eyes and tilting his head back with a sigh when he didn't want to whine. He still ate everything, even with the occasional “This is too much, Hoseok-ah.” mumbled out barely audible above the Queer-Eye episode.

But in the end, there were no leftovers for their fridge to spoil. So Hoseok had nothing to worry about.

----

Sure enough, that wasn’t the only long shift Yoongi had after that first day. Though even when he didn’t, he came without appetite for dinner. “What food do you serve that's so much better than my cooking?”

He was heating tteokbokki up, it was his second night eating it; because he prepared enough for two and then some! No, this has nothing to do with Hoseok's capability of measuring food portions…

It was meant as a joke anyways, so Yoongi’s stuttering response is shocking. “Uhm… You know–It's–it's just normal… coffee stuff.”

…What?

The awkwardness of it all is enough to make Hoseok chuckle confusedly. “Okay… But if you don’t help me finish this you’re eating tteokbokki for lunch tomorrow at work instead of eating that delicious ‘normal coffee stuff’.” He side eyes the older with an amused smile, that only makes Yoongi seem to tense even more.

“Y–yeah of course I–I’ll eat some tonight.” The older is nodding through his answer. As if trying to reassure Hoseok from the confusion that’s probably showing in his face. And despite how puzzled he is at Yoongi’s lack of bite in his response; he decides not to push.

He saw the way Yoongi struggled through his one serving. But he never stopped until the plate had been cleaned of every drop of sauce; and Hoseok is clueless as to why. Surely he knows the younger wasn’t actually mad that Yoongi prefered something else over his very mediocre cooking.

Not only did the older finish his plate that time, but it was the last time he ever mentioned eating leftovers after his shift. However, it wasn’t the last time Hoseok saw him force dinner down his throat, painfully; which after a month of him rejecting everything that Hoseok offered, was far from looking like a subtle change.

“You know…you don’t have to finish it every time.” The chuckle is a little nervous since this has been the elephant in the room (the first one since they ever moved in together), and Hoseok has let it go on for at least a few months or so. The younger himself had left some on his plate tonight. Cringing a bit in discomfort, but unable to keep his eyes off as Yoongi tried to finish his dish. Shoveling as much food down as he could, hunched closer to the plate, even angling the bowl with one hand as the other stuffs mouthfuls into his cheeks.

“Never said I had to.” Yoongi looks at him like he is the confusing one; smiling amused though his face is stretched with all the bites of food he didn’t give himself time to chew. Too focused on cleaning his plate.

“You certainly act like it!” He doesn’t mean for it to come accusatory. But he is pointing his finger in a way that, if it were anyone else, would be considered incredibly rude. The older doesn’t budge, eating mindlessly through the accusations. His pace continues consistently, obviously determined.

“I am literally just eating.” The chuckle is stifled by a small hiccup, and that hiccup is suffocated by yet another mouthful of food.

“And you're suffering every second of it.” His eyes follow the travel of the chopsticks going from the quickly emptying plate to Yoongi’s lips; already opened waiting for the next mouthful. Hoseok doesn’t think he is even chewing; scraping the last few bites in the time he even manages to say that sentence. If it weren’t so obviously forced, Hoseok would call it animalistic.

“Want me to finish yours?” He asks, completely ignoring Hoseok’s argument. And he wordlessly complies, pushing his plate closer. Staring perplexed as he ‘hungrily’ finishes them off as well in a matter of minutes. Hunching closer to the plate, quickened his pace as if to not focus on the obvious discomfort too much.

If he is trying to prove a point, Hoseok doesn’t know to who, or what for. Every meal goes the same way, and it just reminds him of the conversation they had before this sudden change. Just talking about Yoongi’s job… As he watches the older pathetically try to waddle, distended bloat showing through his hoodie, like he’s done endlessly night after night; Hoseok just knows his roommate is hiding something.

Not that said thing is any of his business.

----

They do chores on Sundays, and much like everything else that revolves the two, it's become a seamless, perfectly balanced process. Hoseok is an avid cleaner, so it's much more common for him to do the chores around the house, laundry, bedroom and their single bathroom. While Yoongi did the grocery shopping and took care of the kitchen and living room. Again, perfectly balanced.

He thinks of it as seamless because they can entrust the other to do it perfectly, Hoseok picks up the baskets of clothes left neatly in every room (even if he is not as much of a fanatic as he is, Yoongi is still a very tidy roommate, thank fuck), while he hears Yoongi restock the kitchen. Completely in sync with one another, but also completely truthful that the other knows what they're doing. Even if they barely hang out, there's no hesitation in letting Hoseok into the older’s room to pick up everything that needs to be washed.

Like he said, Yoongi is quite tidy himself, and quite considerate too (though he loves to pretend not to be), already leaving the used sheets and clothes in a neat pile for Hoseok to pick up. It's quite a lot bigger than the past few weeks; he guesses the older just forgot, happens to the best of us. And while he puts it all in a bag, something catches his eye.

That gym bag he’s seen Yoongi take to work every single day. It looks… dirty. Hoseok can feel his expression begin to twist in disgust.

He could probably have it dried by tomorrow. And besides, he never picked up any type of waiter uniform in these past weeks. It probably needs a wash too, unless Yoongi works at one of those cool places that let them dress however they want.

Doesn’t matter, that bag needs a good wash. Decidedly he picks it up. If there's anything inside it, he'll just put it to clean with the rest of their clothes. There are two big tote bags hanging from each of his slender shoulders and the gym bag slung across his chest as he carefully makes his way out of their apartment.

Yoongi has his back to him, reaching up to store boxes of their favorite ramen, respectively; bibimmyeon one's for the younger and the hot chicken one's for himself. Already so familiar with each other's habits and preferences. But as he does it, Hoseok notices the way the older’s hoodie lifts up from his hips just the slightest bit. Revealing the small accumulated pudge clinging to Yoongi’s hips. Plump even if little. Hoseok stares a bit transfixed, as comfortable as they are, he’s never really seen Yoongi shirtless. He never imagined he’d be soft around the edges…

God, he sounds like an asshole.

“I’m going to the laundromat!” He announces instead. But as Yoongi turns around, not only does he notice the silver of skin that follows around the hoodie, softened and hugging the elastic of the hoodie with the curve of a tummy; he also notices the way the older’s eyes widen ridiculously.

“Where did you get that!?” It has to be the first time he ever hears Yoongi sound so horrified, dropping the ramen by the counter as he rushes to the younger. Hoseok is so shocked it takes Yoongi's hands wrapping around the strap across his chest for him to realize he is talking about the gym bag.

“It was in your room… it looked like it needed a wash?” The confusion is evident in his voice. But it doesn't seem to stop the older form carefully trying to lift the gym bag over Hoseok's head and out of his reach.

“There's no need, Hoseok-ah. I’ll clean it later, yeah? I need it for tomorrow.” He watches the way his grip tightens on the bag once he took off Hoseok, protectively. Even if the words are casual, everything in his body demeanor seems to yell at the younger to leave the subject alone.

More specifically, to leave the bag alone.

“Oh… yeah, my bad…” Hoseok sounds blatantly hesitant and it makes Yoongi’s eyes finally look at him in the eyes. As if, now that the gym bag was safely in his hands, Yoongi is beginning to realize how weird he just behaved.

He clears his throat as if to fill the awkward silence. “I’ll take care of it, Seok. Thank you, though…” It's a lot calmer, but the younger is not convinced, not one bit.

“Don’t mention it…”

----

He shouldn't care, Hoseok should not care.

Yoongi is bringing his share of the rent every month, they haven’t worried about it for the past three months… There's nothing he should make his business of. No, Yoongi never told him where he actually works, or revealed any other detail other than the fact that he is a waiter somewhere. No, in not any one of these 12 weeks has Hoseok washed any kind of work uniform, the gym bag completely out of the question. Which, no, he doesn’t know what he carries there every day when he goes off to work.

And yeah… it wasn’t that Yoongi is just a guy with a lil bit of chub in his torso. He is actively gaining weight. And Hoseok has no idea why, or how; he definitely stopped struggling to finish his meals a while ago. The weight is piling up, he sees it on the way Yoongi’s laundry gets more and more repetitive as the clothes he chooses to wear are always the same.

He was walking by the older’s room, his door wide open as he caught him sitting on the floor. His hoodie is too small, it sits on top of the same love handles the younger saw all those weeks ago. They’re bigger now, the tight waistband of his sweatpants making them look even plumper and squishier. And they had the addition of a roll that sat on top of them, even if relatively small, it made his entire torso thicken, softened and smoothing out all the sharp angles of his body.

The older has a bunch of clothes spread around him, and Hoseok walks in with a curious pout on his lips. “Do you need me to do the laundry on those?” He is lucky it's Sunday morning and that's his only excuse to barge into Yoongi’s room like this.

“What? Oh no, no it's fine.” Yoongi’s face barely lifts up to meet Hoseok's, his once enviable jawline padded with newfound chub. His cheeks rounded out making him look so much younger, cuter than he thinks Yoongi would ever enjoy looking. But the older looks back down to the scattered clothes before Hoseok can finish that thought.

Even if he isn’t looking, Hoseok nods anyway. Eyeing the way Yoongi’s horrible posture makes his belly all that more prominent, as it begins to sit on his lap. Though he’d have to crouch to see if the hoodie manages to cover it or not.

“I’m just getting rid of these.” He adds, and Hoseok knows why. But he doesn’t know if he is allowed to say it.

“You’re going on a shopping spree then? It's a lot of clothes…” The chuckle he lets out afterwards is only a little nervous. But Hoseok can help it with how impactful the realization is, Yoongi outgrew all of these? It's barely been 3 months.

Well… it's been 3 months since he got this mysterious job, he doesn’t know when the weight gain started. But yes, Hoseok doesn’t have to justify why he feels that his job was this sort of nexus event to all this. Hoseok lowers himself to sit down next to the older; back resting against the bed.

“I got a promotion.” There's a smirk in his voice. The younger barely catches it from the way his eyes travel to the bunched up belly, the stack of rolls visible even if he is clothed. His hoodie barely stretches enough, snug to the point the fabric sinks in a little with the crevice of each fold.

And, just to answer Hoseok's previous question, yes, there was a little bit of the underbelly that the elastic of the garment failed to contain. Just like his love handles.

“What?! Hyung, that's amazing.” The excitement is genuine in his voice, despite all the suspicions he has about this job. Good news is still good news. “Are you like a manager now?”

Yoongi scrunches his face. “It has a weird hierarchy system.” He shrugs and Hoseok knew it would’ve been a waste of time to try to inquire about anything more. “It has a better pay, and that's all that matters.”

Oh, how he wishes it were that simple.

“Very convenient considering you outgrew all your closet.” The comment comes out mindlessly, before Hoseok can consider to stop it. They both widen once it's out, the silence convincing enough for the younger to believe Yoongi is never speaking to him again.

“You’re the one that complained I wasn’t eating the food you made.” Even though he is snarky, Hoseok hopes, playful remark; he doesn’t miss the light redness that spreads across the round of Yoongi’s cheeks.

The younger doesn't think it was just his precarious attempts at dinner, the ones making Yoongi balloon to the point most of his closet doesn’t fit him. But he decides to keep that comment to himself.

“What about your work uniform? Are you getting a new one too?” Hoseok tries to be casual about the way he is asking about one of the questions Hoseok has had since Yoongi got this job.

“I don’t have a uniform.”

“Huh… Guess that's one problem solved.” Hoseok replies, nodding softly and pursing his lips. His mind somewhere else entirely.

Then what's the gym bag for?

----

Okay… Okay, okay.

It's none of his business. He knows it's none of his business. But…regardless, Hoseok’s got a theory.

His roommate… is a drug dealer.

It sounds ridiculous if he just says it like that. This is a conclusion that he has constructed after months of clues and open mysteries. Like what would make Yoongi so secretive about this cafe with good food, cool customers and no uniforms that he goes to for the entire day. That he gets so nervous and dismissive about when asked. To the point he’ll force himself to eat just at the prospect of having to talk about what he is doing (“eating”) at his job. Carrying around this bag day in and day out, and keeping Hoseok as far away as he can from it.

You know, weed could’ve been the very thing giving Yoongi all those cravings at work that left him so full afterwards. Are they allowed to smoke from their own stash? Hoseok doesn’t know, neither does he want to know!

He is not above having smoked on particular occasions. But that's very different from having a whole Pablo Escobar as a roommate! This is dangerous for him but for Yoongi as well! Even if their relationship is comfortably distant, Hoseok doesn’t want either of them getting into any trouble!

What if their landlord finds out? What if the police find out?! What if Yoongi gets in trouble with another drug lord?! He hates to admit how his roommates private life has been keeping him up at night. But these are all very valid concerns, okay?!

There's a cynical part of his brain that convinces Hoseok he is crazy. Though the much bigger, much louder, part of his head insists all the evidence, or lack thereof, about Yoong’s job only point in one direction.

All he needs to do is just see Yoongi working in some boring cafe, to calm himself down.

His eyes squint as Yoongi emerges from his room a bit after dinner; his shifts have only become later and later during the day. He’s dressed in the clothes of his renewed closet, that still don't do much to hide the way his belly jiggles with each step, pecs flabbier as they perk outwards, puffy nipples a little see through in the shirt. This one at least sits under his stomach. And those black skinny jeans, they button, sure; but nothing can hide the roundness of his hips. Plumper and slowly rising above the waistband of the jeans with each step. Thighs rubbing against each other in a way that's distracting.

And Hoseok is lucky, that infamous gym bag is hanging against Yoongi`s ass, obstructing the view.

“See ya.” The older says, sleep tied to his voice as he walks out. Hoseok hardly had it in him to reply back, he cleared his afternoon just for this.

If Yoongi is getting into any illegal matters, he’s finding out today.

The door closes and Hoseok counts to 30. Before he is standing up from the couch, grabbing his coat and rushing after the older. Taking the stairs as the elevator goes down; he’s never been more thankful about living on the 4th floor.

Managing just in time to catch Yoongi leaving out the front door, and from then on he tries to keep his step slow and calm. Nothing that could provoke his roommate to turn around or to feel followed; Hoseok feels guilty already as is.

They walk to the train station, the rush hour of people heading back home from work enough to hide the way Hoseok goes into the same train. But so crowded he struggles a bit to keep Yoongi in his line of sight. He sees the smaller man struggle through the people as the train nears the Myeongdong station.

Hoseok tries not to think about the feel of his soft body in such a cramped space, and rather follows quickly. Excusing himself at the tired commuters and making his way barely with enough time for the doors not to close, and for his eyes to catch that gym bag reaching the end of the station and towards the busiest part of the district. Perfect.

His eyes are glued to the back of his head, shoving through the multitude of people. Heart beating in adrenaline as they slowly make their way further from the commercial area and further into… well Hoseok doesn’t think he’s been here much to know. Diverting his eyes from Yoongi to look at the weird, run-down looking shops… the nearly empty streets lit up by the cold streetlights.

Definitely not helping with Hoseok’s already concerning suspicions.

He was too busy looking into shady alleyways, he nearly loses Yoongi when there's a noise of the door opening and closing and the older is nowhere to be found. Barely getting to see a slim door closing ahead of him.

No sign… No windows… No type of advertisement that would let anyone know that this is a “coffee shop”.... Probably because it isn’t. There's a lump in his throat, only exacerbated by the stammering of his pulse. Hand hovering above the doorbell in sudden hesitance.

Hoseok guesses if Yoongi’s in there… he wouldn’t want something to happen to him. It would be such a hassle to get a new roommate… the end of the month coming and all…

It's barely enough to convince his cowardly shaking heart. But he shuts his eyes and rings the doorbell. Not giving himself time to even prepare what he was going to say at the person that spoke form the speaker. However, he doesn’t get to feel proper panic over it as the door buzzes open. No questions asked.

Huh.

Somehow, that manages to be even scarier.

The door unlocks and Hoseok feels forced to step inside. Trying to remind himself of every act of kindness Yoongi has done for him as he takes in the sight of some dirty looking narrow stairs. This is fine.

He inhales shakily one last time as he makes his way upstairs to where there's another closed door waiting for him. He doesn’t know if he’s thankful or terrified at the fact that this one isn’t locked.

Nothing prepares him for the pastel sight of the maid cafe inside.

Even under dim lighting, he can see the light blue tiled floor, spotlessly clean matching with the hue of the baby pink walls. Adorable white furniture scattered evenly around the place, round tables each with a little flower arrangement as a centerpiece. Big windows, just above the line of sight of the passerby. But still modestly covered with a lace white curtain; thin enough to let the streetlights in. There's a stage too, wooden and currently empty. The rest of the place though has a few customers scattered around.

What?

“Welcome to Honey Honey cafe! I’m Hana. Can I see your ID please?” A cheerful voice snaps Hoseok out of his transe, too puzzled staring at the entire establishment to notice the cheerful waitress standing in front of him. Bright smile, Hoseok has to stop himself from gawking at her uniform… A frilly maid costume.

The feeling of dread takes over him. Gut sinking at being caught, twisting at the epiphany that he is wrong. And the tips of his fingers tingling with the knowledge that he can't possibly get out of this. Not without making a complete and obvious nut case of himself. So he nervously fishes it out of his wallet.

“Right this way, Master Jung!” She chirps, handing him back his ID and turning on her heel without time for Hoseok to react to that title; petticoat skirt following the movement hypnotically.

He finds himself being guided by her to sit at a table, trying not look freakish as he skims the mostly male customers and their own… service. Maids sitting beside them, sometimes one or more standing around the table, sitting on the customer's knee, shaking cocktails for them, wandering hands, hiked up skirts- he knows Hana is talking to him but he can’t find it in himself to pay attention.

“Is it your first time, Master Jung?” It's nice of her to ask considering the utter confusion must be so obvious in his face. He nods quicikly but she doesn’t seem to mind. “That's alright!” She hands Hoseok a menu that hardly focuses on the food. “Our most popular is combo number 3, but you can skim through it and I’ll come back when you're ready-”

“No no! I’ll go with that, thank you.” He doesn't give the poor waitress time to finish her sentence, and he doesn’t give himself time to read what the combo actually includes.

“Perfect!!” She doesn’t budge despite Hoseok's blatant awkwardness. “Don’t worry, Master. You’ll be in good hands!” She retrieves the menu and bows politely. “Maid Yoongi always takes care of the newcomers.” She is already making her leave when she slips that comment out.

Hoseok’s heart hits the ground.

He should leave, he should leave right now.

Barely starting to get his coat back on, an all too familiar voice interrupts him.

“M-Master Jung?” The words are cordial but the edge of tremble in his voice just confirms Hoseok all he needs to know.

Yoongi is not a drug dealer.

How could he ever think so? When he is standing in a tight fitting maid dress right in front of him. Gloved hands gripping tight at the front of the skirt. His uniform is identical to everyone else’s, navy pretty dress that tries to be loose around Yoongi’s belly. But the white little arpon ties snugly around the middle of his belly, making his curves show regardless, cutting a little into his belly and creating a fold of its own along the sides. His arms hug the puffy sleeves. In the way the cleavage of the dress is filled out with the slight creavice of, what he can only assume, is Yoongi’s pecs pressed together. Thick balck choker wrapped around his neck, with a bow at the back. The white thigh highs only squeeze the fat to pool at the edge of the seam. Leaving only a sliver of skin between them and the frills of the skirt.

He has to force himself to look at Yoongi’s face, but his eyes dart upwards almost instantly. To his headband with fluffy black ears sitting on top of his hair. “Y-yes.” He replies, ever thankful for the facemask he had on the entire time; as if that did anything to hide his identity to the man he sees every single day.

As he inches closer to Hoseok, whose hands are gripping tightly at his thighs. As if to make himself snap out of it. With each step the younger sees a limp cat tail that swings elegantly behind Yoongi's legs. Carrying the movements of the older’s hips.

It dawns on him then, that Yoongi is at work. As uncomfortable as it is, he will keep on. He has too. It's up to Hoseok to stop this… Though his thoughts are interrupted as Yoongi gently leans on top of the edge of the table, cat tail brushing against the very hand gripping at Hoseok’s thigh for some self control.

“You ordered a combo 3, r-right Master?” His face looks even rounder above the thick choker, his eyes widened innocently. Hoseok tries to remind himself Yoongi is just performing, but the sigh out of his lips and gentleness of his voice make warmth coil at his stomach.

He has to look up at Yoongi when he nods, tugging down his face mask. “Yes… What–uhm- what do I..?” His pulse quickens just from the sight of Yoongi like this, skirt riding up just the slightest bit more from how he sits on the flimsy round table. Chubby thighs exposed in a way he never got to see before, pooling on top of the cold white wood.

The older pulls out a menu, a different one and hands it to Hoseok, this one does focus on food. “You can pick any three dishes you want, Master.” Hoseok’s hands stammer as they open the menu. “They’re…they’re for me…”

And that manages to snap his eyes up at Yoongi once more. Wordlessly for a moment before going back to the menu. Things clicking as he wordlessly picks three of the most expensive dishes. If he is going to go through this, he’ll at least give Yoongi a good tip.

The three-chocolate cake, an ice cream cookie sandwich, and a set of six macarons. Yoongi presses his lips together in an unreadable expression while Hoseok lists them out, but nods and slides off the table; letting it rattle a little from the shifting weight it was not prepared to support. “I’ll bring them f-for you, Master.” He begins, sentence dying down shyly as he quickly retreats out of Hoseok’s line of sight.

In the back of his mind, a voice is telling to rush away now, to leave the cash he had left in his jacket and rush. But… that would imply meeting Yoongi afterwards, he can't seek refuge in his apartment. He doesn’t think he could leave Yoongi and this, whatever this is and whatever the fuck its provoking him, unspoken. So he waits, begging to any entity that is willing to listen that Yoongi takes this opportunity to send someone else, if that's even possible.

Yoongi startles him out of his prayers as he sets the three dishes down quietly. The tension is palpable, Hoseok wouldn’t know what to do with himself in this strip-club maid cafe establishment to begin with. The fact it's his roommate, who’s been actively trying to keep this job a secret from him (and probably everyone) all this time, only makes matters worse.

No, what's actually making it worse is the way his eyes wander to Yoongi’s cleavage when he lets the plates down. Full and threatening to spill. And in an attempt to avoid it, looks to the side to where Yoongi’s skirt is rising up, displaying those fat plump thighs under the frilly petticoat… Hoseok is barely able to catch himself from making an obvious case when Yoongi looks back up, having set up the table with eccentric cute utensils plates cups, and of course Hoseok’s three dishes of his choice. They lock eyes then, but that's not any better for the warmth spreading across his chest, the sudden heat of the room making his face burn. Hopefully invisible under the soft lights.

“Everything’s ready, M-master.” Yoongi’s own cheeks seem tinted darker, eyes widened with an innocence he doesn’t think he’s ever seen in the older’s face. He is still gently leaning a little forward, closer to Hoseok.

A sense of power rushes over him, jaw clenched just the slightest bit as he nods. “G-good.” He stutters before gaining confidence minutely. “Good…” His hand brushes Yoongi’s arm. “Come sit with me, the point is that I feed you, right?”

Yoongi’s nod comes out quickly.And it only encourages Hoseok even more; he doubts the older handles every newcomer with this same… hesitance.

“You can sit on my lap.” It doesn’t come out as a question, mabye it should've. They’re close enough Hoseok can see the way Yoongi’s breath sutters at the command. At Hoseok’s authority. Nodding wordlessly as the younger pushes his chair back to make room for Yoongi’s hefty body.

Hoseok tries to be subtle about the sigh that slips past his lips at the weight. Heavier than he ever anticipated on his slender thighs. Naked and immediately warm, the puffy skirt swallowing them both. Conveniently hiding anything that could be happening underneath; the younger feels his heart skip a beat at the realization.

Of course, Yoongi notices. “Am I too—too heavy?” He can see the way the older’s, hands are still tight on his arpon. The tint of his face darkening beyond the make up on his cheeks.

“You are.” He sighs, the warmth of Yoongi’s body swallowing him whole, relaxing his muscles and pinning him to his chair, in a way that only concentrates the amount of heat collecting at Hoseok’s crotch. “You’ve gotten so heavy recently…”

He tries to adjust under Yoongi. Grunting and letting his hands sink beneath the skirt as he cups those ample thighs. Only bringing him closer as he straightens up in his chair, the older’s belly fully flushed against Hoseok’s slender torso. “Didn’t know it was from this… From getting paid by strangers to stuff you full.”

It feels too risky once he said it, once it's out in the open for both of them to acknowledge this is Yoongi’s job. But the older’s chest starts speeding up as it rises and falls quicker, even if slightly. The deep inhales stressing the buttons going up his torso. He can see the bits of pale skin, even if only for a second.

“A–and today it's your turn, M-master.” The smile is not enough to hide from that shaky tone of his voice. But it's enough, enough for the both of them to play along; to let themselves feel, and clean up the mess afterwards.

Hoseok lets himself focus on the innocent way Yoongi bites his lips. Feeling his own heart shaped smile grow on his face, fingers tightening into the fat of his thighs. “You’ll finally eat what I give you.” He picks up the first ice cream cookie sandwich. Admiring the way Yoongi’s eyes dart from it to Hoseok’s eyes with a widened expression. “No running away this time.”

“Not that you ever did…” He thinks out loud, idly bringing the sandwich up to Yoongi’s lips. Wordlessly opening his mouth for Hoseok’s feeding; a smile inmedealty growing on his face. “You always found some room to stuff yourself even more.” It feels like the words are spilling on their own, every reservation he’s had over the last weeks finally coming undone.

“No wonder you got so big.” He can’t keep his eyes away from Yoongi, their eyes still on eachother. Lips stretching to take as big bites as his mouth allows, eyebrows scrunched up in a mix of effort and shame. “I bet even this uniform, meant for you to stuff yourself in, is starting to feel tight too.” Nothing can stop the smile growing in his face, as Yoongi’s lips meet his fingers, shoving the last bit of ice cream past the messy seam of his mouth. Admiring the way he struggles to close his lips fully over that last bite, chewing slowly before slowing.

“It is, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks again as the older swallows. His tone and smile are knowing.

Yoongi responds wordlessly, whipping his messy lips witht he back of his hand as he nods. “M–my manager already suggested I go a size up.” His hands slide down his chest, the showing curve of his belly, the shelf of it that isn't pressed to Hoseok's torso, in an attempt to calm himself. Looking down at himself, his expression was unreadable. “You’re right, m-master.”

“Let’s get you to that size then, hm?” He delicately picks up a macaron; speaking with a tone that's less accusing and much giddier.

“You like it?” The question comes off too quickly, too vulnerable. And Yoongi’s expression shows all of that evidently, almost painfully so. Obvious in a way that it makes something tightened in his chest. It's so quick in fact, Yoongi clears his throat to add. “Do you like it, Master?”

He finds himself startled for a second, eyes innocently widened as a genuine response gets coaxed out of him. “I think it suits you, yeah…” His smile is reassuring, before it twists with a condescending tease. “Came back home fatter everyday, and thought I wouldn't notice...” Yoongi begins to open his lips to object, but he silences him with a macaron, chuckling at the sight. How eagerly he is eating off his fingers.

“You wanna know what I think?” Hoseok asks with a whisper, leaning closer to Yoongi. His cheeks puffed out so cutely from the way he ate the whole thing in one bite; but he nodded regardless.

“I think you like it too.” He whispers only so he gets Yoongi’s full attention on him. “The host said all the newcomers are assigned to you…” His thumb caresses the corner of Yoongi’s lips, catching the bit of filling that collected on the side. “You must just love the attention.”

He doesn’t respond so Hoseok continues, picking up another macaron to bring out his lips. “Love having strangers stuffing you full, fattening you up in this pretty little dress that is close to bursting at this point.” His smile widens at the sight of Yoongi’s delicate chewing; he leans closer so his lips brush against the shell of the soldier's ear.

“Not that anything back home fits you any better.” Hoseok’s hand squeezes where it stayed on Yoongi’s naked thigh, faces so close together he gets to hear the way the older’s breath hitches at his words; silencing the weak noise with the pushing of another macaron “After I leave, you’ll arrive home waddling from all the customers that came here to fatten you.”

He seems to eat them quicker and quicker each time, belly growing firmer with each bite; despite that layer of fat that squishes against Hoseok’s torso. Yoongi is nodding fervently as his hands cling to Hoseok’s shoulders. And for a second, he feels it.

The urgent but brief movement of Yoongi’s hips along his lap before it stops abruptly. Their eyes meeting widened, frigid in their place. It’s Hoseok, who lets his hand on the plumpness of his thigh guide Yoongi’s movement. Slower and more deliberate as the older’s clothed crotch drags across Hoseok’s lap. Exposing them both, in the feeling of each other's hard ons rubbing against one another.

The atmosphere shift is palpable in the bubble of the small table they’ve secluded themselves to. As Hoseok’s hand continues to move Yoongi’s hips, feeling the way his hands tighten on the younger's shoulders. “Don’t hold back.” He whispers, softly letting go of his manhandling of Yoongi’s thigh. Letting the older settle the pace as his hips began to move from underneath the petticoat.

“That's it, you don’t have to hide.” Hoseok’s tone softens, the tip of his nose brushing against Yoongi’s, his lips parted as his breathing begins to agitate. But a mocking smile grows on Hoseok’s face. “Now that I know your little secret.”

He picks up the two last two macarons, and admires the way Yoongi’s eyes widen when Hoseok shoves both of them into his parted lips. Crumbs collecting into his cleavage, the grinding of his hips picking up, eagerly trying to eat everything off Hoseok’s fingers.

“You can fully let go now…” Words spilled, unable to stop himself from the messy sight of Yoongi eating from his hand; their dicks rubbing together messily from the way the older’s movements hitch and stutter.

“Let me see how much of a pig you are.” He smiles reaching behind Yoongi to that tall cake slice. “I bet you’re not even full yet.” The hand lets go of where it had secured itself on Yoongi’s thigh, to press against his ballooned stomach. Sinking into the plush fat covering the bloat.

“No–No, Master, I want more-please… Please...” Yoongi’s back arches, impossibly closer to Hoseok’s body, the outline of their dicks. pressing together unbeknownst to anyone in the restaurant. Making them both groan, faces leaning closer to try and keep quiet. “F–feed me, shut me up.” He whispers, the most daring he’s sounded since Hoseok first got into the establishment.

Not daring… but desperate. It's contagious, not bothering to cut the thick slice, grabbing a handful of the humid chocolate and shoving it in Yoongi’s mouth. So eagerly that it muffles the surprised moan he lets out. Crumbs and ganache overspill from the corners of his lips, spreading chocolate smudges along his cheeks. Lips and eyes widened. He looks sinful.

“This should shut you right up.” Hoseok smiles as the older’s moans are muffled into the second mouthful. Catching the way Yoongi even leans forward eagerly to eat, if Hoseok didn’t know any better he would look starved. But he knows. He finally knows.

“I’m your first customer. But you’ll be the same with everyone else after me too, just as hungry.” His hands smear the rest of the handful across his lips, dirtying him, making a mess of the guy who’s kept Hoseok at arm’s length for so many months since getting this job. “So greedy, aren't you?” Hoseok’s words come through gritted teeth, holding back his groans as his own hips begin to grind upward into Yoongi. Meeting the older stuttering grinds forcefully.

The uncoordinated humping only makes the stuffing of the cake messier, chunks of it falling in between Yoongi’s smushed pecs, smearing along the open cleavage of his dress. But they’re both far too gone to care. Yoongi is licking off Hoseok's fingers, nearly taking them into his mouth, silencing his own moans. Neither of them know if it's from the flavor of the food, the arousal, or both.

There's no more cake, but it doesn’t matter. Hoseok can already feel all the weight for every bite he forced past Yoongi’s lips. How his thighs pool out as they sit on his lap, belly heavy and firm enough to knock the air out of Hoseok’s lungs. Moobs big enough to create a cleavage with them, one that sits right in front of the younger’s face. All he can focus on is the way Yoongi’s hand leaves the death grip on his shoulder, to slip underneath his skirt.

Clumsily, he starts to undo Hoseok’s pants, making the younger gasp when his hard dick rubs against the frilly scratchy material of the petticoat. Wet tip so sensitive against the rough fabric, it makes his thighs shake, and jaw drop with a gasp. His humps are aimless until he feels Yoongi’s long fingers wrap around both their hard ons.

He tries to be subtle about the pumping of his tight fist, not making it around the both of them. But Hoseok can’t be subtle about the way he humps to meet Yoongi’s movements. Nearly knocking the older back into the table, grunts spilling from the effort of hawling the heft of Yoongi’s body. Hoseok’s slim hands sunk into the padding of his hips, guiding the movement. The older’s belly slapping and wobbling against Hoseok’s body, pressed moobs jiggling as his whimpers come out quiet and breathless.

He tangles his hand into Yoongi’s black hair, barely remembering to not pull the kitten headband off. The older’s body pliant under Hoseok’s grip, letting him tilt Yoongi’s head closer; noses brushing with their jaws hanging low, Yoongi’s double chin brushing against the tight choker. Their movement becomes shameless and messy, precum running down Hoseok’s balls ruining his jeans, ruining Yoongi’s petticoat, probably ruining the little white chair they’re both sitting on.

The sound of heels walking next to them makes Hoseok’s heart drop to the ground. Their movements stopping immediately, frigid in their place. Even as the waitress walks away, they wait too shocked in the realization of the position they put themselves into; so easily too…

“I can just… see you back home… when your shift is over?” Hoseok breaks the silence, looking up at Yoongi with a shrug. So casual it makes the older snort, and he isn’t sure if it's good or bad.

“You’ll have to figure out how to hide that semi.” There's a grin, and for a moment it sounds exactly the same as all the times Yoongi teases him back in their apartment.

“Just tell me how much for everything.” He groans but there's a chuckle attached to the end of it.

“50,000 won.” Yoongi starts to climb off Hoseok’s lap, the older’s hard-on easily hidden under the maid dress. And it only reveals the mess Hoseok has made of himself, precum drying on his opened pants.

It might be the price or it might be the sight of himself. “Son of a btich.”

“See you home.” He has the audacity to look down at the mess of Hoseok’s crotch. And back up, grinning before he walks away to the privacy behind the “Staff only” door.

The ride back home is… numbing. He shoved his dick back in his pants as soon as Yoongi left, scrambled to pay (no wonder this became Yoongi’s only job, damn), and left without looking back. Making sure his jacket covered his crotch, because he knew the thoughts about tonight would not leave his mind.

And they didn’t. Not on the walk to the station through Myeongdong, not on the train, not when he sighs and closes the door to their apartment. And even then, he didn't know what to do with himself. He won’t jerk off… Not wanting to come down from this adrenaline high still making his skin tingly with static.

But that… would be assuming anything would happen when Yoongi’s shift does end.

…

He does jerk off.

And thank fuck he did, because Yoongi doesn’t come back for another 4 hours.

Hoseok had tried doing everything, he cleaned the kitchen, he dusted the living room, he tidied his messy desk. And no, he is not about to admit to the fact that he was kind of acting like a maid himself. He is coping, okay?!

Now… Hoseok was trying to grade a paper for the last 30 minutes; now that he stopped moving, his mind is blaring at him that any second now Yoongi could walk through that door… And then he does.

“Hey…” The older is back in the clothes Hoseok saw him leave the house in. The insidious gym bag, now transparent in Hoseok’s eyes. Just as transparent as the shape of Yoongi’s body, not that his clothes do much better at hiding it. Not that he needs to see it, the feel of his curves are still memorable at the tip of Hoseok's fingers.

“Hey.” Hoseok’s response is delayed, and this time he doesn’t really feel like hiding the cause. Letting his eyes travel up and down Yoongi’s body shamelessly. “How was work?” Such a casual term shouldn’t hold so much weight.

Yoongi looks at him, halfway through taking off his shoes. A second of silence as they hold their stare, as if the older was trying to figure out what Hoseok wanted of him. “It was good. I asked for a new uniform.” He walks towards Hoseok as he says it.

“It did look really tight.”

“They let me keep it though.” There's a hint of a smile on Yoongi’s smile standing just a few meters away. And for a second the silence feels like the beginning of something, before Yoongi interrupts it. “Did you get started on dinner?”

Oh…

“Not yet. I can make some pasta.” He purses his lips casually, Hoseok was so busy worrying about Yoongi’s arrival he didn’t even have the time to think about preparing dinner; even though he usually has it done by the time the older finishes his shift.

“Sounds good.” Yoongi shrugs, and he looks oddly cheerful, lighthearted. Regardless of whatever happened in the cafe, Hoseok guesses the secret was weighing him down a lot too. “I’ll shower.” And that sounds like the nonchalant, dry reply he used to form his roommate; which, after the afternoon they’ve had, feels like a mouthful of fresh air.

“I’ll let you know when I'm done.” He stands up and even pats Yoongi’s shoulder as he makes his way to their kitchen.

Cooking is really helpful to him, Yoongi really doesn't seem like he is going to act on anything that happened earlier that day, but he doesn’t seem affected by it either! Even if there is a part of his brain, one he is heavily trying to suppress, that was jittery this entire time with anticipation for what was to come, this is still an amazing outcome! What he did was unacceptable, and Yoongi completely brushed over it.

Today was a success, he tries to remind himself and hopefully wash off the bittersweet sentiment in his stomach. Letting his body and mind focus on stirring the pasta, draining it. He is done before he even realizes.

“Dinner’s ready!” He shouts mixing in the creamy sauce into the spaghetti in their designated big pot. No, Hoseok still struggles with measuring food servings after all this time. As he hears Yoongi make his way from his room to the kitchen, Hoseok lifts up the pot to take to the table. Only serving himself a healthy portion and looking down at the pot, he can tell, yeah…. there’s still enough for at least 3 more servings…

At least it's a relief that it isn’t just his big servings of food the ones contributing to Yoongi’s weight gai-

Yoongi is standing in the kitchen doorway. In that same, outgrown uniform, he saw him just hours ago; kitten headband and everything.

Oh.

“I’ll set the table.” Yoongi breaks the silence, his smile is small but confident. Hoseok doesn't even have it in him to school his expression.

“Okay…” He mumbles but Yoongi is already at it, getting the plates from the high shelf, his skirt rides up even more as he does, supple thighs on display for Hoseok to stare mesmerized. And the older knows, it shows in his smile when he turns around, cutlery in hand.

“Why don’t you sit?” He even tilts his head to the side innocently, the same thick choker making his face even rounder. But Hoseok isn’t fooled, not when Yoongi presses his palm to Hoseok’s chest and slowly pushes him to sit on the chair.

“You’re much bolder than you were a few hours ago…” The younger one smiles even if a little breathless, he doesn’t doubt Yoongi can feel his heartbeat galloping in his chest.

“It was the initial shock, that's all...” The older continues to serve the table, taking out their cups as well. “Hard to get into it when you don’t know if you’ll have to pay rent by yourself afterwards.” He doesn’t even hesitate once he is done, hooking his legs at either side of Hoseok’s lap and straddling it.

The younger tries not to gasp at the feel of Yoongi’s naked dick pressing against the front of his sweatpants. Balls sitting on Hoseok’s crotch. “With the prices at that place… Maybe you should be.” He jokes as his hands find their way to the sunken hem of the arpon; letting his fingers trace the fat that overspills from the tight knot synching his thick waist. And tries not to focus on the fact that the “maid” has a better pay than him, particularly tries to ignore the way that power difference makes his dick twitch.

“Maybe you should get a job in the maid cafe service.” Yoongi retorts with a confident smile. “And we’d be able to afford a better couch along with the rent.” His finger presses to Hoseok’s chest, making the younger lean back as much as he can; Yoongi only following the movement, his belly pressing to Hoseok in a way that knocks the air out of his lungs a little bit.

“I don't know…” A lazy grin grows on his face. Not letting himself be intimidated by the closeness of their lips, or the weight of Yoongi’s body sat on his poor thighs; or the way the older overflows from his lap and the chair. “You’d have to convince me first.”

“Can’t believe I have to convince someone to not be a literature tutor.” He deadpans.

Hoseok’s loud giggles erupt, making their noses bump together. “This is the worst service I’ve ever had!” His hands sink into the softness of his sides as if in scolding. Yoongi’s raspy laughter following his outburst.

“I’m sorry, Master…” There’s still that hint of an amused tone as he purrs it out, but the hand that delicately caresses Hoseok’s chest is very much genuine. “Can you please feed me now?”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be making commands…” His eyebrow raises but his arm outstretches towards the full plate sat forgotten on the table. Yoongi seems to get it, turning his torso to reach for it and hand it to the younger.

“Come on… I had a long shift.” His expression is gentle even if giddy. “Indulge me, Master. Pretty please.” Nothing can stop the heat that coils at Hoseok’s navel, not even the teasing tone in which Yoongi says those sweet words. The younger’s smile spreading pleased, the atmosphere is lighter and more playful than it was at the cafe.

“You’re spoiled.” He mumbles, but there's barely any bite to it. Twist a forkful of pasta and guide it to Yoongi’s lips. He doesn’t know if the older is hungry, probably not; guessing his line of work. But Hoseok doesn’t care to ask. Not when he is too mesmerized with the sight of Yoongi’s small lips stretching around the creamy mouthful, sauce collecting at the corners of his mouth. Eyes widened in the slightest from the effort, though immediately closing when the flavor reaches his tongue.

“Oh that finally got to shut you up, didn’t it?” The confidence and lightheartedness is contagious, as he prepares another bite, barely giving Yoongi time from when he pulls the fork out of his clasped lips, before he is forcing it back in. Only getting a muffled moan in response. He admires the way the older struggles to get through the bites, the way he chews slowly. The mess he is making Yoongi out to be, as the remains he can’t fit drip down his chin.

“I bet you’re not even hungry…” Hoseok grits out through his teeth. “How many men came after me just to stuff you fatter?” The hand that isn't feeding him, is cupping into Yoongi’s chin, it sinks under the fat that started to collect at his jaw and wipes the mess. It slides down to Yoongi’s plump chest, pushed up to make a too-convincing cleavage and down the bloated curve of his stomach.

“S-so many, Master… I ate so–so much.” Yoongi’s breathing is already labored, probably from all the food trying to fit into his stomach. Hoseok lets his hand slip underneath the petticoat and feel the soft naked skin. Taut even with the padding that lets Hoseok’s fingers sink the slightest bit; round and pressing tightly against the younger’s torso.

“Yet you made sure to squeeze into your little outgrown uniform and wear it to dinner.” He cups the pudge that still clings to the bottom of his belly, knuckles barely grazing the tip of his dick. A wide knowing smile as he watches the way Yoongi shivers.

“I don’t think it's outgrown…” The older mumbles, his hips barely hinting at a movement, as if to get any friction from what Hoseok is giving him. “I haven’t even ripped them yet.”

“Did it get to that point with your past uniforms?” Hoseok’s fingers begin to slowly make their way down Yoongi’s dick, just to see the way he fumbles through his explanation. And it works, his jaw drops with a soft gasp and that subtle humping becomes slightly more urgent.

“Y–yes…” Even through his struggle, Yoongi makes sure to keep eye contact with the younger, in the brink of losing his composure; like he wants to drag Hoseok down with him. “Happened while I was with a customer too.”

Hoseok drops his head groaning, hand twisting where it grips at Yoongi’s base.

“He reacted like that too.” There's a chuckle attached to the end of the older’s words, hips grinding into Hoseok's fist. And Yoong’s laughter must be contagious, because a hazy, heart-shaped smile spreads along his face.

“Now it's my turn.” He lets go of Yoongi’s dick just to shove another, much messier, mouthful to the maid’s lips. Hoseok’s eyes not moving from the way cream spilled out the corner of Yoongi’s lips; muffling his moans as the younger’s feeding became sloppier. Not caring about twirling it, shoving it into his mouth and letting the spaghetti hang over his bottom lip; for the older to have to shove the rest in with his fingers.

Letting every ounce of confidence Yoongi had, turn into desperation. It shows in the way he licks every bit of cream off his fingers, of the way his hips humped against Hoseok’s hard on now that he wasn’t jerking him off.

And as he feeds the rest of the plate at him, the younger can feel the way Young's humping becomes messier, more urgent with want. Wettening the bulge in Hoseok’s crotch with his own precum, making a mess of them both.

The desperation is contagious as Hoseok, maybe a little aggressively, sets the empty plate down. Not holding back his hips from rutting up to Yoongi. Making the older bounce on his lap, fat wobbling under the tight dress, in the wide cleavage of his uniform, one of the moobs gradually untucking from the garment.

His moans don’t help with Hoseok’s pace either. Now that his mouth is gagged on food, Yoongi’s parted lips slip and the softness moans. Whimpering when the younger’s slender fingers find his ass under the petticoat, slapping before they sink into the fat. And he can tell the way it affects Yoongi. How his moans get louder with that distinct rasp in his voice, a tone he probably has to hide when he is working. The way his nails dig into Hoseok’s shoulders, face scrunching up overtaken by pleasure.

He is about to cum, he knows.

What Hoseok doesn’t know is what takes over him.

Hands still sunken into Yoongi’s ass, Hoseok lifts them both up from the chair just enough to slam the older’s body against the table; keeping himself standing between those ample smooth thighs.

It stunned both of them, but only for a second.

“Not until you’re done.” Breathless voice whispers against Yoongi’s lips, staring hazily into the older’s wide eyes; he looks so beautiful. There's a moment of silence before Hoseok’s kissing him deeply, unable to help himself at the feel of Yoongi’s soft body against his slim torso. Their dicks rub together as their poor IKEA table creaks at their grinding. The older’s moans muffled, but now he can feel them vibrating through the kiss.

With a hand planted on the side of Yoongi’s head, he manages to reach the big pot behind them. Pulling it closer to him before his hand grabs a handful of the pasta. Yoongi’s lips so eager he whines surprised when the younger separates; barely giving him time to react before he shoves the handful past Yoongi’s parted lips.

It's sinful the way he eats them, messy but so starved. “Didn’t you say you weren’t hungry?” Hoseok says it through gritted teeth, admiring the way he licks off his fingers. He is reaching for another bite, but this time doesn't have to force the food past Yoongi’s lips since he is waiting for it.

He can’t keep his eyes off him, “Do you want to bust out of your uniform that bad?” The hand that isn’t forcing food into his mouth, presses his fingers between Yoongi’s legs. “Or do you want something else?” Hoseok was asking just to tease, but widens whe he feels the buttplug snug between Yoongi’s cheeks; making the words die in his mouth.

Yoongi swallows the last of that mouthful already with a confident smile, his face made a mess of creamy sauce. “You can’t tell me I misread the situation.” The chuckle attached at the end of his sentences shudders a little when Hoseok tentatively twists the buttplug, pulling it out.

“You didn’t.” The older’s smile is contagious, immediately replacing the plug with two of his fingers. “You knew just what you were doing when you left me waiting here for your shift to end.” When Yoongi tries to chuckle this time, his gummy smile dissolves into a moan. A moan Hoseok shuts up with another handful of pasta.

“And yet you’re dragging it out.” He says through the mouthful stretching his cheeks, but it doesn’t fail to sound daring with the raise of Yoongi’s eyebrow. Though the way his hips try to grind into Hoseok’s fingers tells a completely different story. “Do I really have to finish it?” Even if his voice is thick from the cream, it still manages to come off whiny.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” The younger adds a third finger, just to admire the way Yoongi’s confident facade crumbles little by little. “You have to eat everything. Just because you’re out of the cafe doesn’t mean I’m not a customer….”

“So you’ll pay me when we’re done?” The grin that spreads over his round face should be infuriating. But it's just endearing, Hoseok only chuckles in response.

“Shut up and eat, kitten.” His voice is gentle, but clashes with the aggressive urging of his hand towards the pot; harder to reach into as it empties. And pushes it forcefully into Yoongi’s mouth, spreading messily against the older’s cheeks as he tries to take it all in. His choked cries only made Hoseok more forceful.

“Food isn't enough to shut you up anymore…” His finger spilled out from under his skirt. Soaked fingers pumping his dick with a coat of lube. The way Yoongi’s eyes sparkle is all the answer he needs before pushing in with a slow grind.

That managed to shut both of them up.

He folds over, pressing against Yoongi’s soft body, seam lines sinking into the sides of his ballooned stomach; and Hoseok’s slim torso only adding pressure to the poor dress. When their lips meet, it's leisured but messy, Yoongi spreads the remains of every mouthful he struggled to swallow. Making a mess out of Hoseok back.

With one hand sinking into the back of his thigh, Hoseok admires the way each thrust pushes Yoongi’s legs up and adds pressure to the stretched fabric of his uniform. Every slow grind threatens to bust the old dress; his dragged out groans both from pleasure and strain. “You love it., don't you? Just how fat you got from strangers stuffing you till you're like this…”

The older begins to respond, a mewl attached to the beginning of a sentence. But Yoongi’s small parted lips are only an open invitation for Hoseok to reach again into the nearly empty pot, scraping it with his nails, and shoving whatever was left into Yoongi’s lips one last time. The older’s lazy chewing along with the quickening of Hoseok’s thrusts makes the pasta spill down the tight cleavage of Yoongi’s dress, down the sides onto the table.

“Too spoiled to have any manners.” Hoseok grits out, as he urgently scrambles to smear everything that spilled on the older’s chest, up to his face. “Need Master to do your job for you.” His desperation matched by the way Yoongi tries to lick at the younger’s fingers and get every last drop of creamy sauce; the bobbing of his head in rhythm with the snap of Hoseok’s hips. Strong enough it's making their poorly assembled table creak, Yoongi’s mass jiggling in sync.

When Yoongi finally swallows and can finally respond, his voice is thick from the sauce, and shaky with arousal. “I–I finished it, did-didn’t I, Master?” His eyes are shiny with unshed tears, looking hopefully and drowsily up to Hoseok’s eyes; a heart shaped smile grows on his face.

“You did.” The hand that was feeding him cups his cheek to stop it from jiggling, both already messy anyways.

“Ate everything that was given to you, even if that meant gorging like a pig all day.” His tone is sweet even with the slap he lands on the milky flesh of his thigh.

“I–I’m so stuffed I can’t take it-” He cires. “Want to burst- Please!” Tears spill from the corners of his eyes, pitiful begs making his voice raspy with desperation. Nails sinking into the flesh of Hoseok’s shoulders; coaxing a pained moan out of the younger’s lips.

“So e-eager to show everyone how much you’ve grown at work, huh?” A grunt vibrates in his chest as his slim arms push Yoongi’s thighs up against his chest, folding him against the table with a brutal rhythm. “I bet you’d just love to go back with this uniform on.” He chuckles before speaking “If you could squeeze your fat ass into it.”

His harsh words, the blabbering mess of a response Yoongi offers him; choking on moans and tears. The helpless creaks of the table, in sync with the wet squelching filthy noise coming from underneath the petticoat. It’s barely audible.

But it doesn’t have to be. Not when Hoseok can see it, right underneath the bust of the dress on his left side. Each one of the seams bursting open, revealing the milky skin of the side of Yoongi’s belly underneath. They both catch the other staring down at it, Yoongi’s double chin pressing against his naked chest.

Hoseok’s jaw drops at the sight; moan loud and dragged out to the point his body shakes as it comes out his lips. Left hand dropping Yoongi’s thigh for his skinny fingers to slip underneath the tear on the dress, feeling up the older’s soft skin. Hoseok’s caresses are gentle until he grips onto the broken fabric and tugs.

“W-what are you-?” That one is audible alright. The older gasps as his dress is ripped in half, all the way down the collar to the beginning of his skirt. Perky chests overspilling to the sides, fat distended belly on complete display. It renders Hoseok useless, with a shuddering moan. Groping the softest spot on the sides of his stomach, where rolls began to stack.

“You did it- oh, Yoongi look at you…” His sigh comes out shaky, hands guiding the heft of the older’s body to meet his needy thrusts; the sweat on his back making the glide easier on Hoseok’s already tiring arms. The noise of his fat when it slaps against itself only adds to the maddening choir echoing in the living room. Ample thighs enveloping Hoseok’s slim hips and pushing him closer, ankles hooked against his lower back.

“Finally have– have r-room for more, M-maste-ah!” Yoongi doesn’t get to finish, overtaken by pleasure the second that Hoseok’s hand wraps around his neglected dick; damp against the rough material of the petticoat. The younger’s pumps matched the push and pull of his hips in a way that sent both of them over the edge.

Cries that echo each other; their voices mixing seamlessly, with Yoongi’s low whine and Hoseok’s shakey groan. Cum ruining the remains of the uniform, and stretching Yoongi’s navel. Their bodies curling together pressed closed again, shuddering from the intensity of the orgasm; breathing heavily into the other’s lips.

“Might’ve gone a bit beyond what I’m allowed to for a customer.�� Yoongi is the one to break the silence, through huffed words and a drowsy smile.

“I don’t even want to ask how much this combo would’ve been.” The younger replies with a chuckle. “I’d have to spend all my savings.”

“There’s an employee discount, you know? You should probably apply for a job there if you want to afford this happening again.” Hoseok’s smile doesn’t falter, there's no bite to what Yoongi is saying anyways.

“Maybe I will.”

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