Bad Habits | Chapter 6 | Dinner of Perversion

[Content Warning: This story will include SSBHM weight gain, queer sex, messy eating, drug use, romanticizing abusive relationships, immobility, and extreme obesity related health issues.]

Bad Habits

Chapter 6: Dinner of Perversion

Oliver continues to put on weight at an alarming rate while dating Dylan. Like a snowball picking up momentum and adding mass, his body is out of control thanks to Dylan’s constant support. Every time Dylan makes Oliver eat beyond his capacity, Oliver swears he cums harder than he ever has in his life. 

One morning Oliver sits up in bed. “Fuck,” he moans. “Overdid it.” He knows Dylan is only going to bring him more food despite waking up to breakfast in bed less than an hour ago. Oliver feels much more confident in his body than ever. Through piling on weight he feels sexy and like he isn’t depriving himself of anything, but that’s probably because any voids, any holes are filled with food and sex. 

However, he still falls victim to the haunting words Josh flung at him that night several months ago. Especially: “Healthy as in physically fit, not that Health at Every Size bullshit.” 

Oliver doesn’t keep track of his health. He hasn’t been to a doctor for a check-up in years. He’s oblivious to how bad it has gotten and honestly doesn’t think about his health often. It’s only when he thinks about that evening that he gets a burst of concern, but it often fades. Oliver’s belly is stuffed causing his heart to pound. The concern isn’t fading this time. 

Oliver pulls out his iPhone and taps the Safari app. He clicks on the white space at the top with a magnifying glass with the words “search or enter the website name.”  His fat sausage fingers blew up the past few months. The fingers dance across the greasy keyboard screen, typing in “heaslth at everyusizer” and hit search before he realizes the sentence doesn’t make sense. “Shit,” he frowns. Then, he clicks “did you mean: Health at Every Size?”

He clicks the first result from a fat acceptance website. “It’s time to figure out what Josh meant,” mumbles Oliver. He scrolls through the webpages, examining the different principles: celebrating body diversity while including all identities, challenging cultural biases against people of size, and valuing pleasure and honor that people get hungry or have larger appetites. Skinny people can be unhealthy. Being fat doesn’t mean he’s unhealthy. All this makes sense to Oliver. He’s finally starting to live his truth with the same mindset and felt so much better about himself. Josh was just being an asshole. 

Oliver scrolls down to see the criticisms area, but before he can read the page, the incoming call screen lights up. White letters on the screen reveals the call is coming from his mom. That strikes him as odd. His mother never calls, she just usually texts and they never chat about anything substantial. His parents haven’t even visited Oliver since he moved out. 

He clicks the green button to answer. “Hello?” He questions.

“Hello, Oliver. How’re you today?” his mother’s voice hits his ears.

“I’m fine. What’s up, mom? Did you need something?” Oliver wonders.

“Your father and I will be on your side of town on Sunday. We wanted to know if you’d have dinner with us. We can pick something up, or go out, or maybe you could even cook for us and show us how well you’re doing for yourself. You’re certainly independent for the most part it seems. Please cook for us!”

“Uh, yeah, about that...” Oliver trails off. For the past twenty months he hasn’t done anything for himself. His parents pay for his apartment and some of the food bills. Dylan pays for almost everything else. Oliver doesn’t know how to cook anything like Dylan does. How is he going to explain that he can’t cook? How is he going to explain to Dylan his parents will be over and he will have to leave? How is he going to explain why Dylan’s stuff is at his apartment. His heart pounds out of his chest. He might as well tell her.

“M-mom. I’m gay,” Oliver says nervously. 

For a brief second there is silence. Then his mom responds. “Yes, I know. As if I’ve never seen your browser history. I’m not dumb. Shocked a few years ago and a little disturbed that you’d watch porn, but never dumb. That has nothing to do with what I’m asking you to do.”

“Well, uh, I’ve been seeing someone and I don’t want you to be surprised if you visit and he is here.”

“Oh, do tell, Ollie!” Her voice gets more excited.

“It’s, uh, it’s Dylan. Josh’s brother.”

“From the Edere Family? Oh, my, Oliver! You’ve certainly done well for yourself. If I remember correctly, he was quite the stud in high school: a real ladies man. I’m a little surprised he’s gay. I really thought you and Josh were secretly together all these years. You know how closeted athletes can be sometimes.”

Oliver sighs. His mother interjects again. “Let me tell your father. He’s going to be thrilled! He’s always thought highly of Dylan. Please talk to him about hosting on Sunday. You can text me when you’ve figured it all out. Bye, Ollie.” She hangs up before he can reject the idea, let alone give a salutation.

“Who was that?” asks Dylan, peeping through the doorway with a white box of chocolate-covered donuts. He’s completely naked.

“It’s my mom. Her and dad want to come over for dinner on Sunday. Turns out she knows I’m queer. I thought that was going to be hard, but being fat might just be harder for her to handle.”

“You came out to her? Just now? She didn’t even have to catch us in the act with whipped cream all over your body?” jokingly asks Dylan.

“Yeah. She wasn’t shocked, but she’s excited and wants all of us to have dinner on Sunday.”

Dylan chuckles. “That’s slightly terrifying. I’ve never met another dude’s parents after fucking their son before. I mean, I already know them, but not in this context. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know if we should do it. After Josh’s reaction to my weight gain I can’t even imagine my own parent’s reaction. He hasn’t talked to me since,” grimaces Oliver.

“He’s just worried about you and wants us to be happy. I’m sure it was a shock to him to find out not only are we together, but that you’ve put on a lot of weight. He made his choices and you made yours. I’m sure it’ll smooth itself out one day. He’s still your friend or he wouldn’t care so much.”

“Yeah, well. He was abrasive. Can you imagine how angry my parents will be at what we’ve done to me? I really thought that it was possible that they’d find out, cut me off, and become estranged so they’d never have to see how much I’ve ballooned,” Oliver panics.

“Babe, I’m here for you,” gently says Dylan, teaching to Oliver and pulling him into his embrace. 

“What if they think you’re not good for me too and try to intervene with my weight and our relationship?”

“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t need them to sign a permission slip for me to feed you to oblivion,” whispers Dylan before kissing Oliver on the cheek. Oliver knows that he doesn’t really have a choice. He will have to see his parents sometime; he can’t avoid hiding his massive weight gain from them. While he is still nervous, Dylan’s offered comfort makes him feel like he can do anything. Dylan takes his fingers and digs them in Oliver’s love handles, fat oozing between them.

“What do you think about it?” Oliver asks Dylan.

“It sounds like you already know what I think. I also think you should eat these donuts off my throbbing cock, tubby tits.”

Oliver reluctantly texts his parents to come over for a Sunday dinner. The day rolls around quickly. Oliver sweats and gets nervous the day of the big event.

“Relax, fat boy. It’s one dinner. Besides, your parents love me,” Dylan says in a matter-of-fact-tone as he puts on a dress shirt, hiding his toned physique. 

The statement is indeed accurate. In high school Dylan picked up Oliver along with Josh and took him home so Oliver’s nanny wouldn’t have to transport him. Dylan also offered to mow their lawn a few times for a fair price. They thought Dylan was an upstanding kid with good values. Oliver feels like they won’t feel the same way when they discover his new project: making their baby boy into a blimp. “Yeah, but they have not seen me in quite some time. We’ve only talked a bit on the phone every once in awhile. I’ve put on a little weight,” pouts Oliver.

Dylan puts on his tie and chuckles. “More like a lot of weight. No matter what happens, I’m here for you, Ollie-pop.”

There’s a knock at the door. Oliver’s heart jumps. This is going to go really well or really terrible. Oliver is sure it will be the latter. Dylan isn’t very confident either, but  he wants to support Oliver’s relationship with his parents. Oliver opens the door.

Oliver’s parents almost don’t recognize him at first. His mother’s jaw drops a little. She realizes the look on her face must be off-putting and smiles. His father gets slightly flustered and avoids eye contact. 

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Welcome to my apartment,” shyly says Oliver noticing the look of surprise on their faces.”

“Oliver! It’s been too long. You’ve certainly, uh, grown this past year and a half. How have you been?” asks Oliver’s mother while embracing him into a hug.

“Have you been eating well, son?” asks his father.

Oliver hugs his mother and then breaks the hug. He scratches the back of his head. He feels anxious. “Yeah, things have been great. You remember Dylan, right?” Oliver asks.

“Dylan! We remember you of course! You were always such an upstanding citizen. I’m so glad Oliver found someone like you,” says Oliver’s mother.

“Thanks so much. It’s a real pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Dives. I really love him. I’m glad I’ve found someone like him,” chimes Dylan while mentally thinking of his boyfriend getting fatter for him. 

“You don’t have to call us that. We’ve known you for a long time and now you’re dating our son. Call us Dale and Linda,” says Dale.

Oliver’s mind is mostly on food. “Well, lets go ahead and go to the dining area. Dylan cooked our food today. He’s a really good chef when he actually cooks instead of going to a drive-thru,” says Oliver. His stomach growls in agreement. Dale and Linda communicate with a concerned glance at one another. 

“I think that’s obvious if you’re saying it, son. If Dylan is as good as a chef as he was a football player, I’m sure the food is fantastic,” says Dale.

The table is already set. The placemats with enormous plates and a host of utensils is a foreign concept to Oliver. He hasn’t had a single meal at the dining room table in over a year. Usually, Dylan feeds him everything he could possibly want in the bedroom or on the couch.

Oliver is starving and quite frankly just wants to sit down. He pulls out the chair and takes a seat. Oliver’s hips and ass spills over the sides of the small chair. He forgot how uncomfortable these chairs are on his lower back. Dale and Linda sit down as well while Dylan brings out all the food from the kitchen. Several dishes and condiments make it on the table: mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, salad, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, salt, butter, and enough steak and grilled burgers to feed an army. 

Dylan sits down and they all fix a plate. Dylan, Linda, and Dale all make healthier choices with the corn, salad, and lean steak. Oliver’s plate is completely different. It’s a mountain with everything except the salad.

“Still a picky eater, huh? No salad?” asks Dale. 

“I have a vegetable. Corn on the cob. Technically, I have mashed potatoes too.”

“Potatoes are starchy though,” Linda tells Oliver.

Oliver ignores them. They all start to eat. Linda and Dale start with the salad. Oliver digs right in with no shame or order. After a few minutes of shoveling food in his face, Oliver tries to make small talk.

“It’s a little odd that you’ve not visited in the past year. We hardly talk anymore. I’m glad you’re trying to be in my life again,” says Oliver.

“We don’t mean to be distant. We love you, Oliver. It’s just so nice to have our alone time. We raised you for 18 years,” replies Linda.

“A nanny raised me for 18 years, while you spent your time with hobbies and Dad ran his consulting firm.”

“Well, regardless, we have big news and it’s why we haven’t been around lately. I’m too excited! Tell him, Dale!”

“Son, I made the decision to officially retire. My firm will still be sending me checks, but your mother and I have decided to buy a house in London.”

Oliver almost chokes on his food. “London, as in the capital of England and the United Kingdom?”

“We keep taking trips there. We love it so much we thought it would be a great place to buy a house and live there full-time. Did you know they call french fries chips and they call chips crisps?” asks Linda.

Dylan smiles and lies. “Oh? I didn’t know that!”

“What about this one: to go pear-shaped means to go wrong,” Linda replies looking at her son’s pear-shaped body. 

Dylan chuckles, piecing her comments together. Oliver is more focused on the food on his plate than the jokes his mother makes that go over his head anyways. Dylan grabs a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and pops the cork with a bottle opener. He pours four glasses of wine and hands a glass to his lover and his lover’s parents. “I think this new beginning deserves a toast,” he says as Linda, Dale, and Dylan clink glasses. 

Oliver ignores them and starts in on his second plate. The other three are only halfway through their first plates. He’s a little frustrated his parents are so distant and only come over to let him know they are moving across the globe. He chooses to channel his frustration into his appetite, grabbing another corn on the cob. Then, he slathers it in butter and salt.

“Do you really think it’s necessary to put more salt and butter on your corn?” asks Linda as she watches her son put dollops of butter on his vegetables. 

The hot corn melts the butter on impact, causing the liquid to pool, seeping and soaking into the other delicious morsels on his plate. “I’m just trying to flavor it up, Mom.”

Dale takes a fork and knife. He cuts into his steak and snaps, “Christ, son! It has enough flavor. Dylan did a phenomenal job on this meal for all of us. Don’t insult him like that.”

Little do they know that this is routine and Dylan enables it. Dylan is a mastermind of addictive additives to Oliver’s food. They don’t have a clue that he encourages Oliver to add even more artery-clogging ingredients to his meals on a daily basis. This is bullshit. Isn’t it obvious Dylan is encouraging it? 

“That’s not the true issue. I was just trying to spare your feelings, but let’s talk about the elephant in the room because it’s no wonder how he got that way.”

“You’re trying to spare my feelings? You two haven’t visited me in a year and a half. Then, you’ve been making subtle jabs at my weight all evening. What the hell is all that supposed to mean?” asks Oliver clutching his spoon with frustration.

Oliver’s mother tries to deescalate the situation, but fails as she responds with “Well, look at you! We tried not to say something inappropriate when we came in, but it’s hard to ignore this. You’re the size of a house. You’re ballooning and we are just worried about you, honey. Dylan is a fit young man. Could you help him get back in shape, Dylan?”

“I’d be happy to help, Linda,” replies Dylan with a devious smile.

“There’s no need to worry,” Oliver protests. “I’m happy. My anxiety is a lot better when I eat what I want and the food just tastes so good.”

“No reason to worry? You’re going to have a heart attack before you’re 30! If you have that much anxiety you can use pills, not food. I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now!” exclaims Linda.

“Dylan is offering to help you, son. You should be grateful you have such a good boyfriend who cares about your physical health. He might leave you if you get too fat,” says Dale. 

Dylan feels a little awkward being out in the middle. He’s not sure how to openly support Oliver when he’s being attacked, but he thinks there’s no such thing as too fat. Oliver, on the other hand, takes control of the situation. He grabs his silver spoon and puts it into the container of soft butter again. This time without thinking he scoops up a lump of butter angrily and greedily puts it into his mouth. His parents gasp and frown. Despite their protest Oliver shovels several spoonfuls of butter into his greedy mouth.

He reaches his spoon in for another, but instead drops it as his chair wobbles underneath his blubber. It makes a hard metal noise against the table as his wooden chair splinters and breaks, sending him down to the floor with a loud thud. The walls shake and the shame echoes through the dining room for a few moments before dead silence settles.

Oliver’s parents look defeated and Dylan rushes to help Oliver up.

“Stop!” shouts Dale.

Oliver’s parents both stand up. “Let’s see if the pig can get up on his own,” spits Dale.

Oliver doesn’t even know how to begin getting up. He reaches for the table as a way to prop himself up but isn’t close enough. Then, he tries to roll side to side to build up momentum. Perhaps someone else pushing 400 pounds would be able to get up, but he is much too weak and sore from the fall. His physical health has declined greatly.

“Oliver. This is pathetic. We are not going to watch you eat yourself to death. You need help, Oliver, but clearly it’s not something we can help you do if you’re not willing to make the change. I think it’s time we leave,” says Dale as he takes Linda’s hand.

Oliver’s parents leave. Tears make their way from Oliver’s eyes to the bottom of his blubbery cheeks as he watches his parents leave, helpless on the floor. The series of events shock Dylan, but they also turn him on. The dinner didn’t go as planned, but fuck, Oliver is hot. His boyfriend loses control often, but just eating butter out of the container?

Oliver huffs trying to catch his breath and in tears says “D-Daddy, I can’t...get up...”

Dylan moves over to Oliver and extends a hand. Fortunately, Dylan is quite muscular from his gym routine and taking care of Oliver’s needs. 

“I know, baby. I know,” breathes Dylan. “1...2...3,” he grunts as he tries to pull Oliver up. After several unsuccessful attempts, Oliver and Dylan find the strength to pull Oliver to his feet.

Oliver embarrassingly pouts “I told you it wouldn’t be a good dinner. They are abandoning me and think I’m gross. Everyone leaves me. That’s not even the worst part. I-I’m still hungry.”

“Ollie-pop, I’m not abandoning you. They aren’t either. You gave them a scare. Now let’s get some more food in you and comfort you. Why let all the barbecue go to waste when it can go to your waist? You get yourself comfy in bed and I’ll bring it to you. We don’t want another broken chair,” Dylan says seductively as he rubs Oliver’s fat butt. Oliver starts to waddle toward the bedroom.