Work Text:
Ed let out a truly impressive burp, startling himself with its magnitude, before settling back into the plush couch with a sigh. Yet another night alone in his state-of-the art penthouse with only his own hand for company, but if he had to be alone, at least he wasn’t empty.
Maybe he’d overdone it a little bit. He placed a hand on his stomach, packed full and bloated round and tried in vain to massage the tightness from his skin.
Maybe he’d overdone it a lot.
Double orders of burgers and fries, onion rings, too much soda still fizzing away...
Even now that he had more money than he knew what to do with, the frugal habits of his youth died hard. He’d been hard pressed to ignore the combo deal that splashed across the screen when he’d reflexively opened one of the delivery apps on his personal phone. Ordering in wasn’t the best habit, but at least nowadays he could afford it. He’d never liked cooking–he just didn’t have the patience. “Couldn’t sit still if your life depended on it”, his mother would often complain good-naturedly as little Eddie had buzzed around her tailoring workshop. He liked it even less as his schedule had gotten chaotic in the early years of building up his company. In those days, he’d basically survived on cup noodles and toast. He supposed that he was just as addicted to convenience as his customers were now, but that was hardly the end of the world. No point in bemoaning the same impulse that was keeping him in business. Tonight he’d even ended up with an extra order of cheese fries somehow, which he wasn’t complaining about either.
Ed dragged his hand down the curve, proudly convex and straining against his black t-shirt, which was starting to ride up. Yeah, he’d really made a glutton of himself. Seemed like he’d been doing that more and more often lately, but at least no evidence of it was sticking around.
Can’t say the same for him, Ed gloated internally.
Stede Bonnet.
Just the name of his rival alone sent the familiar dual sensations of animosity and arousal flooding through him. The man who’d flippantly mistaken Ed for one of Ed’s own employees at their first meeting. Clearly he’d inherited his late father’s arrogance along with the rest of his assets. Whole family had an ego on them that somehow exceeded the size of their sprawling empire. A massive tech conglomerate, infamous for devouring any small developer in its path. Ed was far from excited about his inevitable contribution to it, even if his more recent encounters with the Bonnet heir had proven oddly intriguing.
The first time that he’d seen him, Bonnet had been…not skinny, exactly, but trim. Fit. Naturally gifted with a broad chest and shoulders (not that Ed was jealous or anything), his expensive suit well-tailored to his sturdy, athletic shape. Probably spent all the time he wasn’t playing CEO with personal trainers in some ridiculously elaborate home gym set-up.
But today, the suit that he’d chosen had fit…Ed supposed that ‘well’ was to some degree a matter of personal preference, but he could say that his mother certainly wouldn’t have let her customers leave the shop “looking like 10 pounds of flour in a 5 pound sack”, as she put it. She always recommended side vents for the jackets of men with “fuller figures”. And Bonnet had appeared full in every sense of the word. Ed had to admit that the imagery that conjured up for him now as an adult was intriguing, especially when it was Bonnet that he was picturing. Practically overflowing his clothes, bursting at the seams…Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Bonnet’s clothes weren’t quite that tight.
Not yet.
But they were definitely snug.
The button on his suit jacket was holding on for dear life and once he’d unbuttoned it to sit, Ed could see that his stomach was spilling over his waistband and rounding out his waistcoat. Gold floral brocade this time, how many of those fuckin’ things did he have?
Had his buttons puckered when he leaned forward to take a sip of his coffee or had that been Ed’s imagination? No matter, it worked for his fantasy in any case. Imagine that they had. Imagine that, perhaps, one had popped clean off. Clattered across the table in all its pearlescent glory. Christ, wouldn’t Bonnet have been embarrassed. His sun-kissed face would have turned pink, as it often seemed to when he was caught off-guard. Perhaps he’d have made excuses, blaming his tailor for a job done poorly. Fuckers born with a silver spoon up their asses never thought twice about blaming the people ‘serving’ them for their own failings. But that wasn’t a thought that Ed wanted to linger on right now. Much better to linger on the idea of Bonnet’s dress-shirt clad belly puffing out between the buttons of his waistcoat like rising dough.
Oh, that reminds me...
He reached over for the one of the work phones that he always kept within close range for emergencies. Given how weighed-down his middle was right now, the action was harder than it probably should have been. He reminded himself irresistibly of a turtle trapped on its back and he had to admit, the comparison wasn’t wholly un-endearing. Finally, he managed to grab it and with a few taps of the screen, had flooded Bonnet with a new flurry of notifications to his own food delivery apps. Offers that, if Bonnet’s recent growth was any indicator, Ed knew he couldn’t refuse.
Gotta help him keep that figure, after all. Or help him...expand it. God, if they kept going at this rate, Bonnet was gonna be huge by the time they closed on the sale. The very thought sent a rush of heat throbbing between Ed’s legs.
Ed couldn’t say what had first possessed him to pick this particular method of fucking with his rival. The anonymity, maybe. He needed to appear polite for the sake of their business transactions, but he wasn’t thrilled that his only way out of the company he’d built up from nothing was to hand it over to an unqualified nepo baby. He’d gotten bored and restless, he needed a change, but giving up everything to the son of the man who’d kept him down back when he was first starting out just felt like defeat. He needed an outlet for his frustrations and he’d found amusement in the idea that spamming deals and coupons would annoy Bonnet. Plus, it was a good way to test the new tech: seeing just how thoroughly he could personalize the notifications to the user based on their activity. At least that was what he told himself.
He hadn’t known that Bonnet would take it as an opportunity to indulge himself–to gorge himself, even. Though, given Bonnet’s lust for pastries at breakfast meetings and tea sandwiches at luncheons, he probably should have guessed. The other man’s face would light up whenever he was enjoying something and never mind the absolutely pornographic sounds he would make. The sight of Bonnet licking chicken pâté off his fingers had given Ed fresh wank material for a solid two weeks. In any case, Ed was enjoying the unwitting show he was getting as a result of Bonnet’s gluttony. New kink unlocked, as Jack would say.
And hey, this was proof that his product actually worked! It was easy to get people to order more when you configured deals and notifications around what they already bought.
So why wasn’t he satisfied?
He tried not to think about the coffee he’d found at his seat this morning: extra large double espresso, iced, with full-fat milk and the absolute maximum amount of mocha and hazelnut allowed by the chain’s delivery app, topped off with a veritable mountain of whipped cream. His guiltiest pleasure, spawned from the veritable coffee addiction that he’d developed working odd hours and late nights. The order that Izzy usually delivered to him with the words, “your breakfast milkshake, Edward”–punctuated with an eye-roll for good measure.
But today, it had already been waiting for him. Accompanied by a note written on pretty, floral stationary in Bonnet’s pretty little handwriting bearing his pretty little signature: “Thought you could use a pick-me-up ;3”
When had Bonnet learned his coffee order?
Sometimes he’d catch Bonnet looking at him and then away, as if Ed wouldn’t notice. As if he hadn’t felt Bonnet’s eyes on him while he sucked that whole drink down in record time. He’s not sure what exactly Bonnet’s playing at, but he’ll learn soon enough that Ed only plays to win.
Ed scratched idly at his full stomach, wondering why he was always so itchy these days. The weather had turned warm and he’d kept up with lotioning his knees and elbows. Only his stomach seemed like it was always dry. Were those…lines he was feeling? Maybe he should get a better look. He tried to sit up briefly before–nope, nope, fuck! That was not happening. He’d check it out in the morning–should probably go to sleep anyway. Fortunately for him, the lull of a warm, full belly was making that option into a blissful inevitability. Was the silky skin of his lower stomach feeling softer when he pressed his fingertips in? Or was that just his imagination?
His eyelids had gotten heavy and he was just starting to drift off when–
Ding!
The sound of his personal phone snapped him right out of sleep and with a sigh he picked it up, figuring that it had to be Izzy reaching out to him about yet another problem with the acquisition paperwork or maybe with one of the new systems. The goddamn things were like roaches: they just kept multiplying.
Instead, he was greeted by another delivery offer, “Don’t forget dessert! ;3”
Filling up his screen with glossy-looking chocolate lava cakes and gooey, ‘oven fresh’ cookies. I really shouldn’t, he thought to himself as he let out another burp. His stomach protested faintly but as far as Ed was concerned, he’d just made some room. But fuck it, I could eat a little more.