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“Almost ready, Hen?” The question leaves him automatically as he steps out of the hotel bathroom. He’s already gone over himself—appearance immaculate, as always. Hair gelled, tie perfectly knotted and straightened, shoes polished, shirt and slacks pressed. All that’s missing is his jacket, yet as he goes to grab it, he realizes Henry hasn’t responded.
A once over of the room they share reveals that Henry’s not ready, far from it in fact. The man’s not even fully dressed, looking as disheveled as he’s ever seen him. His shirt is completely undone and missing his tie, revealing the undershirt he wore beneath it, and his belt, while through the loops of his slacks, is unbuckled. He hasn’t even done up his pants, for Christ’s sake—he looks like a slob. Yet he makes no effort to correct any of that, as he’s too preoccupied with… the mirror.
The hotel room features a floor to ceiling length mirror that occupies one wall. Henry’s caught sight of himself, and it’s clear that he doesn’t like what he sees. William can see it on his face: he’s spiraling, so caught up in his own head that he’s completely lost to the world around him.
William can’t help but scoff a little as he slips into his suit jacket. They have an investor meeting to get to, and while they’re not running late, they are on a time crunch. They don’t have time for one of Henry’s existential crises this morning.
So, he’s a bit more cold with his prodding than he strictly needs to be. “Fretting over your appearance, are we? Honestly, Henry, I thought you were better than that.”
The comment shakes him out of his stupor, but does little to ease his fears. Henry at least turns to face him, now, offended. “That’s easy for you to say—you’re perfect!” he throws out. “And I’m… this.”
It’s hard to take a compliment when it’s contrasted with self-hatred, and seeing the shame in Henry’s expression inspires him to be a bit more sympathetic. Still, he sighs as he crosses the room and stands by him, their reflections joining one another in the mirror. “…Okay, what brought this on?”
Henry hesitates at first, but before long the words come spilling out, clearly eager to have someone to vent to. “It’s just… I-it’s been so long since we’ve had one of these meetings, so I haven’t had to wear these clothes in a while, and… They’re tight, Will, I’m worried they don’t fit anymore.”
His mouth hangs open with the desire to continue, but for a time the words fail to come. His jaw snaps closed, and as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, there’s a soft whimper in his throat that he fails to bite back. He can be seen holding his breath to stifle any further sounds, and when he finally manages to find his voice again, it comes out tight and strained, full of emotion. “Things have been so tough since she left, you know? And I knew I was putting on a little weight, but not… this much. I just… didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”
William’s expression softens in understanding. So that’s it. Truthfully he still thinks it’s a silly thing to worry about, especially for Henry. The man is damn near perfect in his eyes, and he doesn’t even realize it.
But he knows how it’ll come across if he tries to dismiss his worries. Not only will it not work, but it will sound especially hollow coming from him—he’s certainly the more conventionally attractive of the two. And he does highly value his appearance, but that only comes about from having an iron-clad grip on his presentation, with grooming rituals and routines that have become second nature to him, things he’s been practicing since he was far too young to be concerned with them.
And that’s not to say that Henry is lacking in attractiveness, far from it. The man’s just too oblivious to see it most of the time. William gets approached in public all the time, sure, but just as often it’s so he can be asked about his friend. And he turns them down for their sake as well as Henry’s, knowing that any attempts at flirting with him will either go completely over his head or just result in him politely turning them down. Even when he was still available, he wasn’t interested in hook-ups, and never had been for as long as William had known him.
(Granted, that likely had to do with the fact that he was plenty satisfied thanks to Will, but part of it was genuinely just how he was.)
Regardless, he needs to be careful about how he approaches this. It’s a sensitive topic generally, and Henry’s been emotionally delicate ever since the separation.
William gives a weary sigh as he makes eye contact with him in their reflection. “Oh, Henry,” he hums sympathetically. He takes a step behind him and slowly wraps his arms around the other man, giving ample time for him to pull away if so desired. He knows Henry, though, and as expected, he welcomes the embrace, relaxing into his touch. Mindful of his midsection where most of the weight gathers, his arms settle just under Henry’s breast instead. He presses a kiss to his partner’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder, and for a moment they simply… breathe.
He can feel some of the tension leaving Henry’s frame already. He’s always been especially weak to physical affection, contrasted to William’s near intolerance for it. It’s especially effective, then, on the few occasions he does indulge him, usually after sex or during emotionally charged moments, like now.
“You know what I think?” He receives a soft hum in response. “I think… you’re being too rough on yourself,” he pulls him in closer, close enough to curl around him with the couple extra inches of height he has on him. “You’re going through a lot right now. The Freddy’s brand is growing and branching out, and you’re working as hard as ever. Charlie’s starting school soon, that’s a big deal. I know Heidi’s gone, but she didn’t mind your weight, did she?”
Henry gives a half-shrug as he concedes the point. “No, but… She never saw me at this size.”
“You’re catastrophizing, Hen. Honestly I hadn’t even noticed the difference until you pointed it out. Look, all I’m saying is… you don’t need to beat yourself up so much.”
Henry keeps his gaze on the floor as he listens. He wants to resist those comforting words, but at the same time his logical mind can’t refute them. He’s realizing he’s being needlessly cruel to himself, and that while it may feel good for him emotionally, it presents a serious impediment to the work he does and the things he values.
He’s still clearly bothered, though, and William has largely run out of kind things to say. At least, the more acceptable things he could think of. Perhaps it’s that that encourages him to get a bit more bold.
“Can I tell you something else?” William mutters softly, his lips ghosting over Henry’s skin. Another quiet hum in lieu of an actual word. “One of my favorite things… is when you’re fucking me from behind, you have me on my hands and knees, and you’re giving it to me nice and hard, just like I like.” He can’t help but grin at the surprised look on Henry’s face, how he clearly wasn’t expecting him to slip so suddenly into dirty talk. (His own fault, really; he should know by now that Will can turn it off and on like a light switch.) “I love it when you pin me down underneath you, keep me from getting away, so I have no choice but to take it…” As he emphasizes his words, he takes to lightly grazing his nails across Henry’s skin while running his hands down his sides, feeling him tense deliciously underneath his touch.
“…And during all of that, I can feel this—” Finally he rests one hand on Henry’s stomach, affectionately cupping the curve of it where it hangs over his waistline. “—pressed against me. It feels so good, so warm and soft and heavy. It makes me feel so close to you,” he ends with a smile. That smile falls when Henry flinches at his touch, and tragically even tries to suck in his gut to make it not so pronounced.
It’s infuriating. William opens himself up to give a view into the depths of his attraction, he means every word, and yet Henry refutes it. Somehow he doesn’t see what William sees when he looks at him. That the traits he’s been taught by society to feel ashamed about not only don’t hinder how attractive he finds him, but actively enhance it. It’s so enraging it causes him to make a split-second decision, to disclose a piece of himself that he’s kept hidden for some time. Much as he derides Henry for letting social expectations dictate how he felt about himself, he too was susceptible to the opinions of others—namely Henry himself. There’s something he’s kept hidden from Henry’s view for some time, and this moment makes him want to reveal it.
He huffs through his nose, displeased. “You don’t understand.” His other hand strokes down Henry’s front, fingers fanning out and lovingly caressing every inch of his belly. “I love it, Henry.” He lightly tugs up the edge of Henry’s undershirt, letting his fingertips skate just underneath it. He intends to simply tease at first, to make Henry desperate for his touch and not let on that he’s just as eager for it. Yet as soon as he gets a taste, of warm skin, soft flesh, and thick hair, something within him breaks, and he loses all control of himself.
There’s a twitch in his fingers as suddenly both hands are running up Henry’s shirt, making him gasp. His touch is anything but gentle, groping his huge, round stomach and squeezing at rolls the man probably didn’t even know he had. But Will knows, he’s familiar with every last curve on this beautiful man’s body. The flesh is plush and malleable under his touch, practically melting between his fingers. Even better, nearly the entire front of his body is coated in a layer of pretty auburn hair, running thickest in the center where it runs all the way from his chest, down the curve of his belly, and disappears beneath his waistband. William has run his fingers through that gorgeous swath of hair more times than he can count, and he never gets sick of it, even now. While his hands roam, one ends up sliding all the way up to Henry’s chest, gripping at one of his pectorals the same way he would his wife’s breasts. (Really, they’re fatty and plushy enough to be called breasts in their own right.)
An involuntary moan slips out of William as he finally, finally gets a chance to feel Henry’s body in the way that he’s always wanted to. They’ve been intimate more times than he could count, but he’s always held himself back in this regard. He can’t even attempt to hide how much it’s affecting him, his eyes at some point closed and he’s slumped forward against the other man. He’s even wound up with his nose pressed against his shirt collar, raggedly breathing in his scent. He can feel Henry breathe in to say something, only to be cut off when William speaks first.
“Look at yourself, Henry,” he murmurs against him, his voice so low and rough it makes him sound genuinely angry. It sounds like an order, and Henry feels compelled to obey. Yet when he catches sight of himself, of how much more apparent his perceived flaws are in another man’s grasp, he looks away, embarrassed.
William huffs, irritated, as he tries to pivot back to appealing to Henry’s reasonableness, while at the same time easing up on his death grip on him, shifting to gripping him by the shoulders instead. “Has it ever occurred to you that some people might like you at your current size? Or even bigger?”
Henry scoffs derisively, crossing his arms to cover himself a bit more. “I’m not sure I wanna meet anyone who would think that.”
His assurance makes William’s eye twitch, and he can’t resist digging himself further into this hole he’s dug. “Well, too bad, because you’ve been fucking him since college.” It’s far more honest than he normally cares to be, and something tells him that Henry can pick up on it.
The admission catches him off guard, and for a time he doesn’t know what to say. “I… didn’t know you felt that way, Will,” he admits softly. William’s turn to give a verbal non-answer, humming softly in response to confirm it.
Henry seems conflicted, not wanting to inadvertently insult or offend his friend. But the desire to continue tearing himself down wins out, at the cost of hurting them both. “…So, what, you’ve got some kind of… fat fetish?” he sneers. It’s clearly framed as a negative for them both, him for being that way and William for being attracted to it.
William, ever the quick thinker, rejects the premise entirely, and instead pivots. “Hm, more like a you fetish,” he shoots back. “Just you, at whatever size you are, is the perfect size for me.” He can see the way the comment flusters his partner, and it inspires him to keep going.
“…I do like you with more weight on you, though,” he finally admits, albeit softly. “You’re like… a teddy bear.” It’s a comparison he’s made before, usually in jest, and one that Henry’s gotten from others thanks to the character he plays. But now it takes on a new context, there’s something so sincere about it that it embarrasses them both. He laughs softly under his breath. “And who in their right mind would ever want a skinny teddy bear, hm?”
Henry, heart ever on his sleeve, can’t hide the way the comment makes him smile, even as he tries to deny it. “That’s… so lame.” William chuckles warmly against him and presses another kiss to his shoulder, then his neck, then whatever he can reach, again and again.
“It’s true, though,” he mutters in between kisses. When it stops it’s with a sigh, as he prepares to turn the tables, lay some of the pressure on Henry for a change. “I guess I haven’t made it clear how attractive you are you me,” he laments, “I’m sorry about that.”
Henry’s expression softens, fully taking the bait. “Will…”
Then William takes the conversation in a different direction. “But I’m gonna make it up to you. Tonight, I’ll show you how much I appreciate every part of you. Your strength…” He strokes down his thick thighs, nothing but firm muscle beneath tight slacks. “Your skill…” He takes one of Henry’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together. The skin on his fingers and palms is rough and calloused from decades of hard work, yet he knows they’re capable of being so delicate with the world around him. “And all your soft edges.” Finally he embraces Henry once more, only this time his arms wrap around his stomach properly and give him a soft squeeze, accompanied by William nuzzling into his neck and shoulder. It’s an honest to God, full-bodied cuddle. Henry positively melts into his touch, sense his desire to return the affection, even feel it in the way he rests his arms over top of William’s, as though to return the embrace.
“And I’m not going to forget the rest of you,” he promises, “I’m going to take such good care of you, darling. After all that…” He trails off as Henry gasps, caught off guard by a hand moving past his open fly and groping him through his boxers. Even feeling the outline of his cock makes his mouth water. “I’m going to worship that gorgeous fucking cock of yours. Taste every fucking inch of it with my tongue, then take it nice and deep in my throat. Take it all the way down so that my face can be buried in your pubes—” He better not have fucking shaved. “—until all I can taste, and smell, and see, is you.
“And that’s not all.” He drifts lower, diving between his thighs until he has his balls cupped in his hand. A grin spreads across his face as he feels Henry try to spread his legs farther, a silent plea for more, only to be thwarted by the stiff fabric. “I haven’t forgotten about down here,” he hums. His fingers press harder into the fabric of his boxers, compressing it down around the shape of his sack, until balls rest in the curve of his palm. They’re so big he can’t get a hold on them both in one hand. He clicks his tongue as he lovingly caresses them. “These poor things, must feel so neglected,” he coos. “Oh, they’re so big—” he drags out the words in a sultry, slutty moan, like he’s too overcome to say them any other way. “—I can usually only take them one at a time. …But I bet if I really tried, I could take them both in my mouth at once.”
Through all this, he can feel Henry’s cock beginning to harden. It’s not exactly unexpected nor difficult, but it still fills him with pride and a feeling of possessiveness. He’s hard because of William. No one else, just him, just his words and his touch, that’s all it takes.
And he’s still not done. He makes sure to linger over Henry’s cock as he slowly pulls his hand out of his pants. He strokes down his thighs again, feeling them flex under his touch. He trails around his waist, appreciating the slight muffin top he has, until he ends up at Henry’s ass and takes hold of him with a cheek in each hand. It makes Henry gasp and tense up, twitching forward slightly in an attempt to get away. He’s always been shy about having his ass grabbed, for some reason. William finds it very cute, and it hasn’t gotten any less endearing with time.
There’s a smile in his voice as he continues his musing. “I meant it when I said every part of you,” he teases. “I want to eat you out ‘til you’re begging me to stop, get my tongue nice and deep inside you. Breathe you in while I lick you open again and again, over and over.” He can feel Henry gradually relax as he continues groping him, practically kneading his cheeks before gently prying them apart as much as he can through the layers of clothing, stroking a thumb between them. “I want to feel it when you cum from just my tongue. I want to feel the way your hole twitches around me. I wanna taste it.”
Finally he releases his hold on him, instead pulling him into another embrace, much like when they started. With another kiss, his lips are against Henry’s ear and his voice is a whisper as he concludes, “Tonight, I’m going to fucking drown in you, Henry, and I’m going to love every second of it.”
Henry’s left trembling in his arms, the quicker rise and fall of his chest noticeable as he tries to calm his breathing. He’s fully erect now, the bulge in his boxers protruding from his fly. He struggles to form any words at all, as though his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth. When he does manage to find his voice, it’s higher-pitched and needy, a single whine of the most beautiful thing he could possibly say. “Ah, William…”
It takes all of his self-control to not devour the man right then and there.
William trails back down to cup his bulge, giving it a few adoring strokes that leave Henry quivering against him, just enough to draw another decadent moan from him…
Before gently tucking his cock back into his slacks and doing up his zipper. It takes Henry a few moments to react, at which point Will has also buttoned him up and fixed his belt—all of which still fit fine, by the way. All that fuss and he doesn’t even need a new belt or to have his pants let out or anything.
A kiss on the cheek and a firm pat between the legs and William is finally pulling away. “Get dressed, love, we’ll be late.”
Henry nearly collapses without his support, standing there on shaky legs and looking around like he’s forgotten where he is. “Wh-what?”
William steps around him to take his place in the mirror and give himself a once-over. He’s a smidge disheveled himself, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. “The meeting with the investors,” he reminds his partner, “We’re liable to be late if we don’t hurry.”
In the reflection he can see Henry staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “I… N-no, you can’t be serious. You can’t just—do all that, say those things, and then expect me to sit through an entire meeting with Doug and Brad like nothing happened!”
William’s not fond of those two either, but personal distaste aside, business is business. “I can, and I do,” he tells him simply, unable to bite back a smile as he straightens his tie. In what’s undoubtedly one of his less smooth moves, he tries to subtly adjust himself in his pants. That encounter certainly did a number on him as well, not just Henry. But like him, he’s going to have to suck it up and move past it. There’s work to be done, and work comes before play.
Frustratingly, Henry’s still in no rush to make himself presentable, still stammering indignantly at being blue balled, the poor thing. So William steps in, turning to face his partner and gently yet insistently tugging him forward by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. As his undershirt is smoothed out and tucked in, Henry looks embarrassed at being fussed over like this, but doesn’t fight it.
“Think of it like this,” William posits as he buttons the other man’s dress shirt, “Now you’ve got something to look forward to afterwards, hm?”
There’s a flash of something hungry in Henry’s eyes as he gives William a once-over of his own, eyeing up his figure as he recalls all the things that were promised to him. “…You intend to keep your word, Afton?” he prompts.
His tone, challenging and playful, makes William break out in a grin that Henry mirrors. “Always, Emily,” he teases in turn, leaning in to capture his lips.
The kiss between them is brief, both of them now focused on coming down from their emotional high. Once his shirt is done, Henry seems to remember how to dress himself, finally, seeking out the missing elements of his outfit, namely his jacket and tie. It gives William a moment of peace as he waits patiently by the door to their room. He briefly checks his watch—if they leave now they should be on time, traffic permitting. He tries not to get too carried away with his own thoughts, but his mind lingers on memories of Henry’s body, on how good it felt to have it beneath his grasp, and to touch without fear for once. Now that his fixation was out in the open, he wonders what it means for them going forward, how Henry would feel about maybe indulging him from time to time. He feels his face warm at the thought.
He’s startled out of his pondering by Henry taking position before him, quickly righting his cuffs beneath his sleeves before holding his arms out expectantly. “Okay,” he huffs, out of breath, “How do I look?”
William goes over him a couple times, once to assess his professionalism, and once more just to appreciate. He nearly double takes when he realizes that Henry’s shirt is stretched over his torso and straining just a bit. Behind his tie he can see the gaps between buttons widening with his breaths. Not dangerously so, they’re in no danger of a wardrobe malfunction, but the visual puts more thoughts in his head.
“…Good,” is all he says at first, before clearing his throat and adding on, “Handsome as ever,” just for the way it flusters Henry a little. It takes his mind off William for just long enough before he can notice his reaction.
“Come along, then,” he calls, putting a hand to Henry’s back and giving him a light pat. As they approach the door, another impulsive move slips out, spurred on by a crazy thought. Maybe he can prove to Henry that he’ll love him at any size. All it’ll take is a bit of work.
“…Maybe we can get some lunch after the meeting too, hm?”