IT IS DELICIOUS CAKE

Title: IT IS DELICIOUS CAKE YOU MUST EAT IT (Heavy/Medic)
Author: Cat Bountry

	Heavy didn’t notice the increasingly larger portions at dinner, at first. Medic spent a lot of the time post-battle in the kitchen with Pyro, and seemed to take pride in being able to cook something that wasn’t completely charred to a crisp. When he did notice that he was getting more food than the other members of the team, he chalked it up to him needing more on account of how big and strong he was. That, and the fact that Medic was quite blatantly playing favourites. The team knew about their little trysts, and by now they simply didn’t feel like making an issue out of it. Best to stay out of their way, was the resounding logic. Nobody was sure what Medic even saw in the big, fat, bald Russian anyway.

	The Soviet had to admit he wasn’t sure either. The doctor was far too handsome for him, and yet he would find himself being spoiled with plates of sandwiches piled up on top of each other, and Medic would watch him eat intensely, with a hungry look in his eyes. Sometimes, the doctor would even slide his tongue out along his lips.

	“Do you want sandvich too, Doktor?” Heavy would often ask.

	And every time in response, Medic would say, “Nein, mein Liebling, you just keep enjoying yourself.” And then he would lean in just a little bit closer to watch his lover take another bite out of the sandwich in his hand. It always made Heavy a little uncomfortable, but he loved his Doktor, and never complained. Not even once.

	It was hard to complain about getting so much food. His appetite was voracious, and the good doctor seemed more than willing cater too it. Though lately, Heavy had been going into the infirmary when he though Medic wasn’t around, and weighing himself. He was, indeed, gaining weight. This time, he had gained other two kilos. He stepped off the scale with a sigh, and turned around to see Medic staring at him, looking oddly serene.

	“Somezing wrong, mein Kuschelbär?” Medic asked innocently.

	“Am, uh, getting softer, Doktor,” Heavy admitted. He poked his stomach to illustrate, and noticed the doctor’s eyes locked onto it. “Is slowing me down even more.”

	“Is zat so bad?” Medic asked.

	“A little,” Heavy admitted. “Am getting out of shape.”

	“Nonsense!” said Medic. “I know you did not get enough to eat in ze old country.”

	“I was not starving there, Doktor,” Heavy said. “I am thinking that you have… other reason for feeding me so much.”

	Medic didn’t say anything for a few moments, and he averted his eyes from Heavy, hanging his head in shame. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from Heavy’s stomach spilling over the top of his pants.

	“You are not making me fat to try and eat me, are you, Doktor?” Heavy asked with a chuckle.

	“Nein!” Medic said. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

	“Then what is reason?”

	The doctor’s face went bright red, and he seemed to develop a twitch in his eye. “It’s… it’s nozzing,” he stammered. “You ask too many questions.”

	After a few moments of silence, Heavy was struck with an epiphany, and realization as to what the doctor’s true intentions were dawned on him. No… it couldn’t be… that was just wrong. Growing up in the Soviet Union, he had heard stories about how the Germans were perverts who raped both men and women alike, doing horrible and unspeakable sexual things to their victims. Of course, when Heavy met Medic, he no longer thought that way; but now, as he considered all those larger portions, the way Medic stared at his stomach, the way the doctor gripped onto his love handles when they got intimate… he looked up at the doctor, who was becoming increasingly nervous and fidgety.

	“Let’s not talk about zis right now.” Medic suggested, walking up to Heavy and embracing him. The doctor pressed himself against Heavy, trying to wrap his arms around his lover’s wide frame. “Vhy don’t ve go into mein bedroom for a spell, hmm? Ve have ze day off, no one should be bozzering us…” Heavy felt himself relax a little bit at the suggestion, until Medic’s hands started to squeeze at the excess fat above the Russian’s hips. The Soviet placed his hands on the doctor’s shoulders and pushed him backwards, and backed away from Medic.

	“Vhat is ze mattah, mein Lieber?” Medic asked, looking hurt. “Did I do somezing wrong?”

	“You do not love me at all,” Heavy said. “You only like me for… for this!” He grabbed his gut, and jiggled it for emphasis. “I am just fat slut to you, and you want me fatter!”

	“Zat… zat is not true!” Medic said, and bit his lip as he recoiled from the accusation. “I do love you! I love all of you! I just…”

	“You just what, Doktor?”

	“I… ah…” The doctor was sweating profusely, his eyes darting all over the room, as searching for the proper response somewhere in the room. “I… have a bit of a… fixation, is all.”

	“A fixation,” Heavy repeated, sounding incredulous.

	“Ja,” Medic admitted. “I… I find it to be… extremely arousing vatching you eat und get fattah.” He looked down at his feet, and tried to hide how red his face was becoming. “Zis sort of zing has been something zat has fascinated me since I vas a young boy… I just cannot help it…”

	“And that is why you come onto me?” Heavy asked.

	Medic closed his eyes and took a deep breath through flared nostrils, and then let it out, slowly, through his mouth. “Initially… yes,” he admitted. “Yes, it is. But I really do love you, mein Heavy!”

	“I don’t think I believe that,” Heavy said.

	“You’re just upset!” Medic said. “Und you have good reason to be. I led you undah false pretenses, vhen ve first met. Und I am sorry. But I do love you, und I beg you for your forgiveness.” He got down on his knees in front of the Russian man, and took his lover’s large, meaty bear paw of a hand in his and kissed it lovingly. “Please?”

	“Do not be groveling,” Heavy said, rolling his eyes. “Is… unbecoming of you, Doktor.”

	“I can’t help it,” Medic said, holding Heavy’s hand to his cheek. “I should be ashamed of zis perversion. I thought zat maybe, you vould undahstand…” He looked up at Heavy with watery, blue doe-eyes, his bottom lip quivering pathetically.

	Heavy felt his anger melting away. Damn that Medic, he thought. That face Medic was making he only ever used on him, to persuade Heavy into doing whatever it was the doctor wanted. And it always worked. He sighed. “Get up off floor, Doktor. You look like tiny baby.”

	“Do you forgive me?” Medic asked meekly.

	“Yes. I forgive you, Doktor,” Heavy said, rolling his eyes. “Get up. Please.”

	The Doctor picked himself up off the floor and wrapped his arms around Heavy, nuzzling his chest affectionately. “Oh, danke, Heavy!” he said. “I knew you vould undahstand!”

	“I am trying,” Heavy admitted. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Medic being attracted to his fat; he had always assumed it was his muscles and his imposing presence on the field. This was all very strange, but he still loved his Medic, as odd as he was, and he hugged the smaller man back. “What can I do to make you feel better, Doktor?”

	Heavy could feel the grin breaking out over Medic’s face. When the doctor turned his head upwards to look at his lover, all traces of the pathetic, blubbering baby-man that had whimpered before him were gone, replaced only by a far-more familiar Medic; one with an evil little glint in his eye and a positively eerie, shark-like smile. “Oh, I zink I have some ideas…” he said, and already Heavy was regretting saying anything at all.

______________________________________________________________


	“Ah, Heavy! It’s good to see you, mein Lieber!” Medic gushed as Heavy walked into the infirmary. It had been a week since Medic had confessed his fixation to Heavy, and apparently in between then and now, Medic had been planning… whatever this was. The doctor had promised him that he could work off a little bit of excess weight, so long as he agreed to do this every once in a while. He was not exactly sure what he was in for, and the way Medic shuddered in anticipation as he locked the door behind them was a bit worrying.

	All of the infirmary beds had been moved to the sides, and in the middle of the room sat a very plain, round table, with two chairs. In the middle of the table, upon a large, round plate, was a chocolate cake, and there was an additional plate with a fork, as well as a larger knife and a glass bottle of milk beside the dessert. Heavy looked at Medic with a curiously arched brow.

	“Sit down, bitte,” Medic urged, barely containing his excitement. “I’m so glad you agreed to do zis for me, mein Kuschelbär.”

	“Is it your birthday?” Heavy asked with a nervous chuckle. It was a question he full-well knew the answer to, but it made him feel a little better just to say it.

	Medic laughed as well, but it was a much more mischievous, almost evil. “Nein, mein Liebling. Just… have some cake. I ordered ze ingredients especially for zis occasion. Enjoy yourself.”

	Heavy looked at the cake, then back to the doctor, and then back to the cake again. He could easily see the lust and adoration in Medic’s eyes, and he could see the cake, looking and smelling delicious and inviting. He had to admit, he did love good cake. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad. Weird, surely, but nothing unspeakable. He took his seat, remembering how much he loved this doctor and promised he would do anything for him, and watched as Medic leaned over the cake, slicing it with the same kind of steady hand he would use when cutting into a patient. Once a slice of sufficient size had been cut, Medic carefully placed it onto Heavy’s plate, and then took his seat across from Heavy.

	“You are not having any?” Heavy asked.

	“I vill not be needing it,” Medic said simply. “Dig in.”

	Heavy lifted up his fork, but before he could carve off a piece, he was interrupted by a sudden “VAIT!” from the doctor.

	“What is it?” Heavy asked, putting the fork down.

	“Could you… take your shirt off?” Medic asked, sounding as though he were afraid of overstepping his boundaries.

	Heavy sighed, and took off his vest and his uniform shirt, pulling them over his head and exposing his barrel chest, and perhaps more importantly, his impressive gut. Medic had a sharp intake of breath, and held it for a second before Heavy picked up his fork again. He watched eagerly as Heavy carved off a sliver with his fork, and popped it into his mouth.

	Medic leaned forward with intense interest, lacing his fingers together in front of his face. This was making Heavy a little uncomfortable, but he had to admit the cake was delicious. It was moist and rich, with just the slight hint of bitterness that made it so mouth-wateringly good. He began to eat with his usual vigour now, shovelling in mouthfuls, and by the time he had finished his first piece, Medic was trembling again.

	“More,” Medic rasped.

	Well, Heavy certainly couldn’t refuse him. He cut himself another slice of cake, and by now, one of Medic’s hands had wandered to his own chest. Heavy tried not to pay the doctor too much attention, and dug into the second piece, enjoying it thoroughly, little bits of frosting getting smeared around his lips. He reached for the glass bottle and looked back up at the doctor, whose hand slid down past his stomach, underneath the table. Medic’s breath was coming out ragged, and Heavy felt as though he were being eyed by a starving predator and backed into a corner. It was a ridiculous thing to think, for a man of his size… and while Medic was not a small man by any means, he was still much smaller than Heavy and, should it come down to it, Heavy could easily overtake him. Of course, he would never dream of doing such a thing. He decided to ignore Medic and try his best to concentrate on the dessert before him. He picked up the glass bottle and took a sip, just enough to wash the confection down before he went back to his dessert. As he was finishing his second slice, he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled, and the shuffling of cloth. He looked back up at Medic, who was bent over the table at this point, with one arm sprawled out on top of it.

	“I didn’t say you could stop,” Medic growled, hungry with need.

	“Sorry,” Heavy said, with a sheepish nod. He cut himself another slice. Again, he started to shovel more into his mouth, and he could see Medic writhing on the table in front of him, letting out the occasional barely-suppressed moan. Despite his awkward position Heavy felt a stirring in his loins, which he supposed couldn’t be helped. There was his lover, quite obviously masturbating underneath the table, his glasses already askew on his flushed face and his hair falling out of place, and it was very, very difficult to ignore. Heavy was more than tempted to just jump his bones right there and forget the cake, but he was doing this for Medic. It wasn’t his place to take charge now. He just prayed that Medic would give him some attention outside of watching him eat.

	The good doctor, however, was enjoying himself immensely. Every bit that went into that cavernous mouth, every bit of fat that jiggled as he moved… He yanked on his throbbing cock all too eagerly, and it still ached for more, even as he found his body tense with pleasure. This was too passive, he decided. It was time to move onto something a little bit more… hands-on.

	He stood up in a very swift, violent motion, startling Heavy. The doctor then proceeded to remove his clothing with all the grace and poise of a ravenous wolf, while Heavy stared at him. All of his clothing removed, Medic crawled on top of the table, which rattled under his weight, threatening to spill the bottle of milk. Heavy watched with intense interest, feeling as though his patience was finally paying off. He did not, however, expect the doctor to grab a chunk of the cake and start smearing it all over his bare chest. He watched as the doctor grabbed more, rubbing it all over him until his body was a gooey, chocolaty mess.

	“I was eating that,” Heavy said with a wry chuckle.

	“You still ah,” Medic said breathlessly. “Eat it off me, Lieber.”

	Now, this was more like it, Heavy thought. Medic leaned over him, and Heavy started to lick all the frosting off of the German’s stomach in long, slow laps, taking in as much smeared chocolate as he could. Medic was leaning further and further back, until he was on his back, spread out over the table as Heavy continued to give the doctor’s chest a very thorough tongue-bath. Medic was trying his best to hold himself back, but honestly he could have very well gotten off just by watching Heavy eat cake off of him and feel Heavy’s stomach rub up against his painfully erect cock. But that would hardly be fair to Heavy, would it? No, that simply would not do… he had to hold out for his gloriously rotund lover. He deserved it.

	This was made even more difficult, however, when Heavy moved his mouth down between the doctor’s legs, and engulfed Medic’s penis in that open, eager mouth, swallowing it like he had the dessert. Medic let out a high pitched gasp, and wrapped his legs around Heavy’s shoulders. “Oh, ja,” he moaned. “Eat it…”

	Heavy was more than happy to oblige, taking it as deep back into his throat as he could, causing Medic to let out a string of breathy obscenities in German. The Russian felt as though he had finally wrested some control back from Medic, enjoying how the doctor jerked and groaned underneath him.

	“Oh… oh, Heavy,” Medic gasped.

	“Da, Doktor?” Heavy asked, taking Medic’s dick out of his mouth just long enough to respond.

	“Oh… Gott... fuck me already, vill you?” Medic gasped. “You know vhere ze lube is…”

	The Russian didn’t need to be told twice. Heavy walked as fast as he could managed with a stomach full of cake, headed for the cabinets, shelves lined with all of the doctor’s supplies.

	Medic watched him as he went, the fat of his stomach bouncing just enough with each movement. He reached down and stroked his aching member, watching that stomach press up lightly against the drawers below as Heavy reached back before pulling out an aluminium tube.

	“Hurry up, already,” Medic growled.

	“Coming, Doktor!” Heavy said, jogging back over. With fumbling hands, he popped off the cap to the tube, and smeared a generous amount over the doctor’s exposed pucker. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down his trousers, and gave his own cock a few quick pumps, smearing it with the lube and traces of chocolate still on his fingers before easing it into Medic’s ass. Medic gave out a choked cry, and Heavy leaned over him, trapping Medic’s dick between both of their messy bellies and rocking the table underneath them. The Russian began to thrust, hips bucking back and forth in a steadily increasing rhythm, hitting the doctor’s sweet spot over and over. Between that and the feel of that rippling fat squishing against his cock, Medic could no longer hold back, and came with a primal, guttural howl, clinging to Heavy tightly as he rode out his orgasm. Heavy sped up his thrusts, trying to finish up as quickly as possible before he pulled out and, with a few quick jerks, came with a roar onto Medic’s stomach.

	The two of them caught their breath, and Heavy flopped onto the table next to the doctor. Both of them were covered in chocolate and semen, there was more chocolate spread across the table, and the rest of the milk had been spilled onto the floor somehow. Though neither of them could remember when that happened. Medic craned his neck to plant a quick kiss on Heavy’s forehead.

	“Danke, mein Kuschelbär,” he said. “Zat meant so much to me.”

	“I feel I am going to be sick,” Heavy groaned.

	“Sorry about zat,” Medic said. “But you have made me a very happy man, mein Lieber.”

	“Doktor?”

	“Ja, Heavy?”

	“Promise me,” Heavy said, closing his eyes, “promise me we never do this again.”