RPF: Soft Spot - James McAvoy/Michael Fassbender
A sort-of-but-not-necessarily sequel to Thirty. Contains the acception and appreciation of weight gain and pudge love. If you don’t like, then don't read.
Soft Spot
Australia is perfect. Michael needs somewhere to rest and recover from the physical and mental strain that Hunger put him through. He wouldn't have missed out on the role for the world, but he is so tired and apathetic and… well, hungry.
He can't stay at home, where everyone is clucking around him, getting frustrated that he isn't gaining the weight back instantly, that eating is physically difficult. He's trying, and only James seems to understand that. So the two of them pack up their things, Michael turns off his phone, and they go to Australia.
It's been a month. Michael lies on his front outside on the decking, shirtless, the sun soft against his skin. He's just so comfortable and warm, inclined to move for nothing. Or, almost nothing. He lifts his head as he hears James' bare footfall on the wooden floorboards. He smiles, his lips parting slightly, and he rolls onto his back to look up and see James standing over him, grinning.
"'Lo," Michael says dozily. James crouches down to kiss his lips, upside down. Michael holds up his hands to take hold of James' face, pulling him a little closer, drawing him in deeper to the kiss. James breaks back after a moment, a grin still dancing on his lips, gazing at his boyfriend.
Michael has put on a significant amount of weight, and looks so much better for it. James swears he can see him looking healthier and healthier by the day. He's enjoying food again, real, full flavoured and substantial food, and he doesn't need to be told twice to eat his fill, and sometimes it tastes so good that he eats a little too much, and has to lie down and soothe his aching stomach. He privately wishes, as he rubs his tummy, that James could maybe do this for him, but he daren't ask, and doesn't want to deliberately draw attention to his own gluttony. Equally, James leaves Michael be when he has the occasional stomach ache, wishing there was a way to ask if he could help without looking like a complete freak.
Michael sits up, stretching like a cat, drowsy with warmth. As he stretches out his arms he arches his back, pushing out his stomach, and James' eye is irresistibly drawn to Michael's middle. Most of the weight Michael's gained has gone into balancing his body out again, filling out his face, hiding his bones. But some of it is quite clearly concentrated in one place, and that's on Michael belly. He hasn't been working out particularly hard, determined to relax entirely and not to stress about anything. He does exercise in the form of walks and bike rides with James, but they're for fun, and he's not going to do anything just for its own sake. He can't remember the last time he did a sit up or an abdominal crunch.
The weight is almost like puppy fat, a smooth curve on his otherwise slim frame. He has the beginnings of a little gut, small but soft, poking out over the top of his jeans. James can stand it no longer, and wraps his hands around each gently-curved hip, leaning in to kiss Michael again. He rubs his hands up Michael's sides, squeezing ever so softly. Michael makes an 'mm' sound of pleasure into James' mouth, so James' tightens his grip a little, twisting his body so that his stomach is against Michael's, skin to skin. He breaks back after a moment, leaving Michael panting. James' eyes fix upon Michael's tummy, which moves with his breathing. Michael notices where James is looking so intently, and then reddens, embarrassed, and tries to hold it in.
"No," James smiles, "No, don't do that. It's fine."
Michael puts one hand on his stomach, still sucking in, frowning.
"I don't know how much weight I've put on," he murmurs, "More than what I lost."
"Good," James says plainly. Michael raises an eyebrow.
"Really?" he asks, suspicious.
"Really," James replies, "You deserve to enjoy yourself."
"But-" Michael protests. He exhales, breathless, relaxing his stomach muscles, but he suddenly seems much less at ease and contented than he did half a minute ago, and James doesn't like this. He resolves to remedy it at once.
"Do you want to know a secret?" he asks with a little smile.
"What secret'd that be, then?" Michael inquires. James doesn't look away from Michael's face, but reaches out a hand to press his fingertips lightly against his stomach.
"I like it." Michael just looks confused.
"What… what d'you mean?"
Without saying anything, James takes hold of Michael's hips and lowers himself so that his face is level with Michael's midriff. He can hear Michael's steady breathing start to quicken and catch once or twice in his throat. James noses Michael's navel, then tilts his head up a little, glancing up at Michael. He looks away again, shutting his eyes, and pokes the tip of his tongue into Michael's belly button. Michael shudders violently, but it's in pleasure, not discomfort. James grins, and then presses his mouth to Michael's middle, kissing his tummy. He parts his lips slowly to nibble gentle on the soft flesh of Michael's belly, moving his hands around, nipping at Michael's dimpled back.
"Stop!" Michael gasps, pushing James away. James sits back, kneeling up on his legs, frowning a little.
"What's the problem?" he asks, "Did I hurt you?"
Michael shakes his head.
"No… no, you didn't. I'm just struggling a little taking this all in."
James looks apologetic and a little guilty.
"Ugh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. In fact, that's the exact opposite of what I'm trying to do."
"It's okay," Michael says slowly, "I just… can we get a few things straight here?"
"Of course." James replies.
"You're not mocking me?"
"God, of course I'm not, Michael. I mean every word I say."
"Okay. And so…" Michael pauses, "You like how my body is right now?"
"Yes." James says earnestly.
"Can I ask why?"
"It's good to see you relaxed and healthy. You stressed me out so much in the run up to that film, Michael, and yourself even more so. And when it looked for a while after like you were gonna be having trouble eating, I was seriously worried that you'd done some long-term damage. So it's just a relief to see you eating, enjoying food like you should do." He softs his fingers along Michael's skin, "And who cares if you've put on a few pounds extra? I certainly don't. I kind of think it's gorgeous, actually."
"Don't take the piss," Michael snorts, but his heart is hammering in his chest.
"I can prove it," James suggests. Michael shakes his head.
"I… okay. Do you like… watching me eat?"
"Kinda," James says, a little more bashfully.
Michael gives a little smirk that James doesn't notice; he knows what he's doing now, and decides to play with this a little.
"So…" he says slyly, "Say I'd had a bit too much to eat… and my tummy was full…" he notices James lick his lips anxiously, and swallow, "And it was hurting… would you rub it better for me?"
"Michael," James says hoarsely, flustered. Michael grins widely: the tables are turned. He leans forward so that his mouth is very close to James'.
"Good. Because I'd like that," he whispers. James exhales and then Michael kisses him rapturously, taking James' hands and guiding them to his hips, moving his body gently, encouraging him. "James, one more thing," he says.
"Yes?" James asks.
"It's just this, isn't it? I mean, you haven't got some fetish to fatten me up, er, too much?"
James laughs.
"It's just this. Don't worry Michael, you'll have your super-hot-film-star-body back soon."
"Why shouldn't what I look like now be considered a super-hot-film-star-body?" Michael demands, lying down on his back.
"Mm, good point," James says, clambering atop him and leaning down to kiss him, "Keep that one in mind."
- Fin -