The Quarantine 15: Chapter 4

2.5 Months of Quarantine

Emilio chomped down on his slice of pizza contentedly, his hooded eyes filled with pleasure. The saltiness of the greasy slice lit up his taste buds and made him crave more and more. While finishing one slice, still chewing, he reached for another so as to keep a steady stream of pizza flowing into his body. He was stoned and couldn’t stop eating. The marijuana made it so that he never even felt full. Each slice was like air and he could keep packing in one after another. Alex sat across from him on the couch, also eating pizza, and staring at Emilio with bloodshot eyes. 

“What are you staring at?” Emilio asked with his mouth full. 

“I like watching you eat,” Alex replied.

“Hah, why?”

“I don’t know. Keeps your ass nice and fat,” Alex immediately regretted speaking the truth and began to blush. The weed had deceived him into honesty. 

“Damn, can’t fight that logic,” Emilio replied casually. 

It was a Tuesday morning and the roommates were already baked and stuffing themselves. In the past week, protests had erupted across the globe in response to the tragic murder of George Floyd and both men were given the day off in solidarity. They had spent countless days discussing the unrest sweeping across the globe and educating themselves about race and prejudice. Like many people, they were filled with sorrow and anger.

To numb the frustration and helplessness they felt, they turned to food. Getting stoned and ordering pizza on a Tuesday morning was an exasperated response to the feeling of impending doom that arose from living under an empire in rapid decline. Stuffing themselves with two large pizzas and some soda provided a brief respite from the chaos. 

Eventually, the boys finished the pizza and dozed off while watching a documentary on Netflix. These days they were looking plumper than ever. After almost three months of isolation neither had any clothes that fit. Jeans that buttoned were a thing of the past and they both lived in sweatpants that were increasingly collecting food stains. On a recent drunken evening they decided to weigh themselves for the first time since they first bought the scale. Emilio was now pushing 200 pounds, which was a 15 pound gain since he last checked. Alex, on the other hand, had doubled that. He was weighing in at 230 pounds.

Lately, the elastic of Alex’s sweatpants were stretched to the max and left uncomfortable indentations on his skin. Emilio still fit in his, but his ass took up so much space that it caused the cuffs to ride up above his ankles. Both men were also running out of shirts that fit, Alex especially. A crescent of fuzzy belly hung out of nearly every tee he owned and since the weather had gotten warmer he would typically forgo a shirt altogether. Of course, Emilio delighted in the spectacle of Alex’s midsection lazily wobbling through the house. That being said, Emilio had become quite wobbly himself. His T-shirts now barely covered the soft ball of fat poking out from his stomach and when he raised his arms he could feel the fresh air caress his navel. 

Looking like two blubbery seals resting on an outcropping, the boys slept for about an hour before stirring. They woke up at the same time feeling dehydrated from the salty pizza and each chugged some soda. As Alex began whipping up some BLTs to snack on, the boys discussed their feelings. A protest was scheduled nearby and they both wanted to attend. They were nervous about contracting COVID-19 in such a huge crowd, but they also couldn’t remain silent on this issue. They decided to hit the streets. 

They left the house looking awfully swollen. Alex’s tight sweatpants accentuated his muffin top. He was aware that about an inch of belly hung exposed from the bottom of his shirt but he didn’t care. It was so hot outside that it actually provided some relief. More surprising was that his face mask actually felt tighter. He didn’t realize his cheeks had also grown puffy. 

Emilio’s ass noticeably bounced behind him as they marched with other protestors. He no longer owned underwear that fit which meant he was going commando, making his jiggle all the more apparent. On top, he wore a tank top that hugged his fresh love handles tightly and would occasionally ride up in the back. His chest had also slightly begun to soften and, for the first time, he could sense his nipples rubbing against the soft cotton of the tank. After only fifteen minutes of marching in the heat he began developing sweat stains under his arms and below his ass cheeks. 

After a couple hours, the roommates were sweating buckets. They were not used to walking so much but they powered through, out of breath and panting. The sun began to set as their stomachs began to growl. They decided to grab take out at a McDonald’s. Sitting on a curb, they chomped down on their burgers when their phones began buzzing with an emergency alert. A curfew was in place. After fueling up they rejoined the march. 

“We should head back,” Emilio said. “We have a long walk back and curfew’s gonna hit soon.” 

“Fuck curfew, the protest is not over.”

“I feel you but also… No, you’re right. Fuck it.”

As night settled overhead and the curfew passed, tanks began flooding into the city. The crowd thinned out as police in SWAT gear began marching in. Alex and Emilio grew nervous and turned around to head home, except the street home was blocked off. They tried another route, also blocked off. Other protestors began shouting at the police. Without notice a group was tackled to the ground. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Alex said. 

The overgrown pair began walking as quickly as they could manage, the McDonald’s and extra weight slowing them down. Unexpectedly, a cloud of tear gas shot forward and they had to turn and run. From there it became a blur of violence as police brutalized protestors, some of which tried to fight back. Alex and Emilio were now running for their life, moving faster than they had in months. 

Their bellies sloshed with McDonald’s as they darted down an alleyway and crouched behind a dumpster huddled together. Chests heaving and their clothes completely saturated in sweat, they struggled to catch their breath. They waited until the commotion died down before standing back up. 

“Goddamnit,” Alex grumbled when he looked down. 

The elastic in his waistband had finally snapped and his sweatpants were falling off. He had to hold them up with one hand as the two darted to the next alleyway, Alex lagging far behind. It was too difficult to move quickly while holding the waist of his pants below his bloated bouncing belly. In a moment of stress he had to make a difficult decision. To continue on he would have to forgo his pants and return home in nothing but his boxer briefs. With that, the roommates slowly began making their way back to their apartment, sneaking around barricades and clouds of tear gas. 

Blanketed in darkness, the boys covertly found the path of least resistance out of the downtown protest area. The intensive physical activity coupled with the high anxiety of escaping personal harm in what suddenly resembled a police state left their hearts pounding and their lungs gasping for air. As they got closer to home things had calmed down but now it was even more apparent that Alex was obscenely unclothed. 

No longer hiding in alleyways and darting across streets, they could walk freely on the sidewalk and it was quite odd to see a chubby twenty something drenched in sweat walking around in his underwear and a T-shirt that couldn’t cover the heavy belly fat hanging from his waist. It also didn’t help that Alex’s light grey boxer briefs were so saturated with sweat they were practically sheer. He might as well have been walking around in the nude. 

The roommates tried to avoid people but it was inevitable. Almost every person they passed stared and Alex was growing extremely self conscious. One person even asked if they needed help. By the time they finally arrived home they were both exhausted and traumatized. 

In silence, they each took a shower before bed. It felt as though they should discuss what had happened, but the prospect of doing so seemed too difficult so they went to their respective bedrooms. Each man lay on his bed in only his underwear, tired and worn out but wide awake. The events of that day ran through their minds at rapid speed. Finally, Emilio got up and knocked on Alex’s door. 

“Come in,” Alex beckoned.

Emilio stepped inside scratching the bottom of his belly that was on the verge of drooping into an overhang. He noticed that Alex’s underwear was so tight that he could make out his roommate’s fat pad bulging beneath the fabric. 

“I can’t sleep,” Emilio declared. 

“Same,” replied Alex solemnly. 

“I don’t want to be alone…” 

“Yeah, my mind is racing.

“Would it be okay if we cuddled?” Emilio nervously asked. 

“Come here,” Alex held out his arm. 

Emilio walked over to Alex’s bed and laid down next to his pudgier roommate. They scooted close together and Alex, as the big spoon, draped his arm over Emilio. Alex’s belly flowed forward before him and squished against Emilio’s back and love handles. The soft warmness of their fat sandwiched together was comforting. With his belly in the way, Alex’s arm couldn’t fully wrap around Emilio, but rested on the gooey curvature of Emilio’s plump chest and belly. Emilio’s bulbous butt filled in the space below Alex’s belly and pressed into Alex’s groin. In each other’s arms, their doughy bodies provided a sense of comfort and relief. 

They squeezed closer and their freshly grown fat squished outward in all directions. Of course, both men were aroused by the bodily contact, particularly Alex whose dick was smashed against the bubble butt he so often fantasized about. Still, they resisted acting on their desires. As they held each other close, the anguish broiling inside from the day’s events melted away.