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sosoftxx · 2 years ago

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Bursting at the Seams

Steve exhales and shuts his eyes as the other man positions the stethoscope against his midsection. Down his sides near his hip bones, a dusting of thin stretch-marks is littered, and the skin near his navel is slightly puckered and wrinkled from the expanding fat there. The skin there is a slight, rosy red. As Bruce listens to the gurgling, bubbling sounds coming from Steve's gut, he hears something else: the low, wet rumblings of gas moving through the man's bowels like a tidal wave.

"Your stomach sounds really gurgly," he comments, using his free hand to feel about the area of which he is listening to. It is hard and firm.

Bruce can feel the bubbling of Steve's digestive tract from the outside, the vibrations from the gurgling, rumbling contents of his intestines. As he feels around the man's stomach, the other shudders and grumbles in mild discomfort, and then he feels it: a tremendous, wet bubble, moving through the other’s sick guts. Steve groans slightly as his tummy swells with yet more gas.

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Steve faces a dilemma as he shows up to the clinic gassy and bloated. Bruce is here to help, but what the two get up to is certainly less than traditional.

Before we get to the good stuff, I'd just like to thank @namjoonscutetummy for putting up with my endless rambles surrounding Marvel and each of my 500,000+ drafts! They were a big motivation for me to get this done whether they realise or not, so I figured it was important to put that out there. 💕💕

[Work beneath the cut]

The clinic's door opens to admit a man who, at once, strikes Bruce's attention. His eyes eyes scan his muscular frame, his huge shoulders, and his broad back - angular face and disciplined chest. The man is undoubtedly attractive, dressed plainly in nothing more than a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

The tall male takes slow, almost tentative, steps into the clinic, and Bruce's eyes follow him the entirety of the way.

A light smile curls at Banner’s lips. "Dr. Bruce Banner. Please, take a seat." He extends his hand in greeting, head cocking towards the chair at the desk. "How can I help?"

At the doctor's invitation, Steve sits neatly in the chair at the desk, running his hand nervously along his thighs. "Well, it's a bit, y'know... embarrassing." A blush rises to his temples, and he fiddles, inconspicuously, with the hem of his t-shirt. As he sits, the rounded bulge of his gut makes itself known as it presses out and against the thin fabric, and a wet gurgle sounds to fills the silence, Bruce standing to shut the door behind them.

Steve clears his throat, shoulders tensing as the other stands. He looks briefly to the now-closed door, and then back to the doctor. "Well, I... I've had this stomachache for awhile now. Really bad, even when I'm just standing."

"About how long has this been going on for?" Bruce questions, sitting beside him as he opens up a new document on the computer in front of him.

"About... uh... jeez, probably five days now?" Steve winces as a wet belch erupts up his throat. In the dim light of the clinic, the doctor notices that his midsection seems slightly distended, its flesh stretching taut against his fitted t-shirt.

"Tell me about your symptoms." Bruce's hands rest in his lap as he turns to sit facing Steve fully, one leg draped over the other.

“Well, I mean, it's a constant pain...” He shifts awkwardly in the seat. “And I've been experiencing... a lot of gas.”

As the man speaks, the doctor's eyes dart from his handsome face - his chiselled jaw, his dark brows and aquiline nose - down to his bulging, straining gut. "Have you had much bloating?" - It seems a stupid question, seeing as Steve's stomach appears unusually bulbous and round beneath his tight shirt. "Tell me about your pain level."

"Bloating? God, yeah," he breathes unsteadily, looking down at his belly. "It's kinda distracting. As for the pain? It comes and goes. Sometimes it's pretty dull and manageable. Other times, though... yeah, it can get pretty bad." He winces at the sound of low gurgling issuing from his midsection. "Sorry."

"No need to apologise," Bruce offers a polite grin. The glow of the monitor in front of him illuminates his face as he make the appropriate notes. The click-clack of the keyboard sounds out against the tense silence, before that would-be silence is disrupted - abruptly - by Steve's groggy belly.

Steve bites his lip in embarrassment at the sound. He can’t be positive, but he’s pretty certain that the wet burbling sound was not the sort of thing one should produce in front of a doctor. “Uh, would it be easier- do you want me to stand up and take my shirt off?"

"Yeah- yes, that would be a big help." The doctor swivels around in his chair, cocking his head towards the examination table. "I'm just going to have feel and a listen to your tummy, alright?"

Steve stands and strips his shirt off clumsily in a single tug, his hands trembling. The soft cotton of the garment slides down his arms and flutters to the floor, chest and shoulders bulging with muscle. At his waist, his pants seem to barely be able to contain his bulging gut, and his stomach extends several inches past his hips. It gurgles wetly as it stretches against the fitted waistband of his pants.

Standing briskly from his seated position, Bruce makes his way over towards the far wall where a small box of latex gloves resides alongside a small dispenser. He pulls on a pair, motioning towards the exam table. "Could you lie down, please?"

There's another wet gurgle from Steve's tummy, and then he lies down atop the clinic's exam table, placing his hands on either side of his body. He looks quite vulnerable in this position - even, dare one think it, helpless. His exposed belly stretches against his waistband in a very suggestive manner.

Upon securing the stethoscope around his neck, Bruce makes his way over towards the exam table where he stands above the man's rounded gut. It churns away like a factory, the red streak of a fresh stretch-mark painted just near his navel.

"Your stomach sounds really gurgly," he comments, using his free hand to feel about the area of which he is listening to. It is hard and firm.

"Sorry if I'm hurting you at all-" the doctor sets his stethoscope aside, pressing his fingers above the other's navel, beneath his diaphragm. "Can you tell me how that feels?"

Steve whines softly as he feels Bruce's fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his gut. "Kinda tight. Like something wants to get out..." his voice trails off, the rumble of gas inside his belly building into a louder, more insistent growl.

Moving his hands to knead into the other's lower belly, now, along his large intestine and down beneath his navel where the colon resides, Bruce can feel, more than hear, as a particularly large swell of gas pushes its way passed his prodding fingers with a loud groan.

Steve can't help the way he groans loudly, his muscles tightening in discomfort as the gas pushes passed the doctor's hand. He grits his teeth as it continues to build and bubble inside him, his belly distending further and further. “My God... that's... a lot of gas...!”

"Is it stuck?" Bruce asks, tone seemingly innocent, as he presses down upon the hard swell. "Let it out, Steve - you'll feel better for it."

Steve takes a deep breath, and then another, and he relaxes a little as the gurgling continues. Bruce is almost positive he can hear the gurgling of gas moving through Steve's large intestine now. With a final, shuddering breath, the sounds finally subside, his large, distended belly growing quiet. He looks at the other, his eyes wide. The blonde’s stomach is noticeably bigger than it was before.

Then, abruptly, the silence is torn into by the booming slap of the hot, rippling fart that erupts from between the man's quivering thighs. Its stench immediately permeates the room - the hot, wet odour stinging at Bruce's eyes as his nostrils are assaulted by the offending scent.

Steve, who has yet to sit up, is startled by the unexpected and forceful fart. He grits his teeth as both its force and its horrible stench hit him, and he curls slightly out of reflex. "Holy sh-... god." He takes another deep breath, visibly swallowing. "God, that was.... holy hell."

"That was... something, alright." The other fails to suppress the way his nostrils flare as they are burned from the inside-out by the penetrative odour. "How are you feeling after that?"

Steve shakes himself, slowly getting up from the examination table. He looks at his stomach, which seems to have taken on an extra inch or two in circumference since he arrived. His belly still gurgles and rumbles, and Bruce detects the presence of still more gas inside him. "I feel a little better, yeah. But... it feels like there's still a lot more..."

"How would you like to go about this, then?"

Steve rubs his hands together, wincing as his stomach spasms again, his midsection twitching as more gas moves through. "Well..." he breathes out a long sigh, not sure how to say this. "Maybe... just have me lay back down on the table again?"

"Sounds good to me, so long as you're comfortable with that."

Steve lies back down and settles himself onto the table, his eyes on the doctor, nervously. There are clearly plenty more of those terrible, room-clearing farts inside him, just waiting to get out, but the poor man is visibly trying to contain them.

"Alright, then-" removing his gloves, Bruce swiftly moves to rinse his hands beneath the nearby forcet before pulling on a fresh pair- "are you ready?"

Steve swallows thickly, nodding his head. Just the movement of his body seems to set more trapped gas into motion, his belly gurgling and rumbling all the while. The man grips the edge of the table tight in both his hands. "Yeah... I'm ready."

Wasting no time, Banner stands above the man's taut gut and presses down with both palms, flat, into the hot, hard flesh. Each lengthy roil ripples beneath the skin, violently vibrating as Steve's rounded stomach tenses beneath his touch.

Bruce can feel not just his stomach rippling, but all his intestines - his small and large - beneath as the pressurised gas in his gut continues to build towards its climax. Steve's eyes widen, and he grits his teeth as the other's palms push out and away from him. And then the pressure in his gut explodes.

From the gurgling roar that erupts from the rounded dome, it should be no surprise as the hot, thunderous fast ripples and claps forth. The pungent smell is like a blow to the nose; eye-watering and vile.

The force of the fart - and indeed, it was a fart, a violent and extremely forceful emission of gas - is so intense that Steve feels his entire body tense as he is practically knocked back. In the throes of the flatulence's eruption, he begins to cough. A mere moment passes, and a wet sound begins to spray forth as well. He turns his head to look down at himself, and then in the doctor's direction, eyes wide as his lap warms. "I'm... I'm so sorry, I..."

The quiet hiss grows gradually in volume as does the wet spot towards the front of Steve's trousers. His eyes are scrunched shut, cheeks beet-red as a steady stream of piss flows out of him, down his leg and dripping into a golden puddle on the floor.

Steve whimpers, his eyes screwed shut in embarrassment. Bruce can practically see his cheeks burning red as they flush with the shame of it. His face is slack, and his eyelids droop, and then he makes a small whimper that quickly turns into a low moan, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his belly as more and more piss flows in a steady stream from between his legs. "Oh God..." his voice is only just above a whisper, his chin quivering. "I'm... I can't stop it..."

"It's okay..." Banner trails off, eyes following the golden fluids as they cascade down his legs. His breath catches in his throat, leading him to swallow thickly as a warm rush begins to tickle at his insides. "We'll get you cleaned up, yeah? There's a- there's a bathroom you can use that's connected to my office."

"Yeah... okay, that'll do fine," he breaths out. At the other's gesture, he makes an attempt to get to his feet, but his legs are uneasy; trembling with embarrassment. And, as he puts stress upon them, they buckle and he comes crashing right into Bruce's embrace. His face has taken on that red undertone once again. "I'm- jeez, I'm sorry, doc."

"Don't be! Don't be..." the other man's voice is soft, hushed as he holds him, feeling the weight of his form against his own. Steve's body feels like a tonne of bricks, rounded ball of a gut pressing harshly into his middle, burbling and roiling against him. A hand instinctively curls around to hold Steve at the small of the back. His tummy's heat bleeds through the thin fabric of Bruce's shirt, and the warm smell of the flatulence he's passed continues to waft through the air around them.

Cautious, hesitant, Bruce allows his head to rest within the crook of the taller man's neck, arms embracing him as his heavy belly gurgles and rumbles into his middle. The doctor softly presses them together, inhaling deeply as Steve's rough beard scratches up and against his neck.

Steve's rough, warm chest presses into Bruce's, his hot breath ghosting against his neck. He shudders, and for a few moments, he just breathes, his big, heaving belly against him. Gradually, the gurgling slows, and eventually stops. "I... think that's it," he breaths, his voice soft and hoarse. "For now..."

"Yeah?" Banner rasps, voice more gravelly than expected. He tosses the gloves away. "Then let's get you cleaned up, alright? Come on, I'll show you to the bathroom."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Steve doesn't even bother to get upright as he turns in the doctor's arms and he leads him out. Even just that short distance in the man's arms seems to have exhausted him; he leans into the other, trembling, as he is guided down the hall toward the connecting bathroom.

But before they manage to get to the door, an ominous, low-sounding snarl resounds from deep within Steve's weighted gut. Bruce still holds the man in his arms, the blonde's sturdy back pressed flush against his chest, ass resting dangerously close to his nether regions.

Steve, who has been so cooperative up to this point, seems unable to prevent his stomach from quivering as the rumbles grow louder and more insistent. Slowly, but inexorably, his stomach begins to swell outwards. "Oh, geez... I think it... it might be too... too much... I-I can-" he's trying to get free, trying to make it to the bathroom on his own – but his movements only serve to squeeze and tighten the contents of his distended middle, and his tummy begins to groan and gurgle louder, and louder. In an instant, the sudden, violent pressure of a tremendous, terrible amount of gas is released from his body, his belly bulging out like a balloon until Banner can almost see it straining against the waistband of his pants.

The searing fart is hot against Bruce's clothed cock, rancid odour blasting him like a wet punch to the face. His eyes water and sting, a sharp gasp filling his lungs as he comes to realise, well and truly horrified, that an all too familiar heat is beginning to pool within his loins.

Steve's eyes widen, and he looks up at the other with a pained look on his face. He tries to speak, but the tremendous rush of air and gas being released from his body prevents him from being able to say anything of note. If you've ever seen a party balloon deflate, or heard a tyre burst, that's a fairly similar experience to what's happening to Steve, right now. His stomach is making the most godawful noises.

Bruce stands, frozen in horror as his cock pulses and heats. Before long, it has come to life, half hard and pressing into Steve's tight backside as even more hot, reeking, bubbly gas is ejected from his body. "Steve..." he mutters. They still stand in the isolated hallway, his sweatpants uncomfortably damp from having previously pissed himself. "I'm so- I'm so sorry-"

Then, a low, rumbling moan, which the doctor can feel rippling within Steve’s insides. It rises up from the deepest recesses of Steve's gut, and the release of gas causes his stomach to shake, his body to tremble, his arms and legs to twitch and spasm. Steve's body is quaking like he's freezing to death; and his face has turned an absolutely scarlet-red. "I..."

"Steve, that was..." the brunnette begins, only to trail off as his gaze wanders back down to where they're both connected to one another. His hot cock throbs and twitches within his trousers, and the urge to roll his hips up and into the other man's sweet ass is almost too much to resist. "Fuck."

"It was... what?" His eyes cut up and meet Bruce's own and then, for a moment, they grow wide with the sudden realisation. "Oh..." he begins, but he cuts off sharply as he struggles to find a proper response to whatever this situation is. He swallows hard, his mouth open, trying to speak, only to falter and sputter helplessly as he fails to do so. With a low moan, he presses himself backwards into the doctor, his rear grinding and sliding feverishly against Banner's groin.

A stammering gasp makes its way passed Bruce's parted lips as the friction against his clothed erection sends bolts of pleasure to warm his pulsing loins. "Not here," he musters, "bathroom."

At the doctor's reminder, Steve's eyes snap back, as if realising where exactly he is. "Right, right, the bathroom," he sputters. And with that, he stumbles forwards a few paces, into the bathroom, and finally, with one more grunt, shuts the door. The sudden jostling of getting across the room has brought his stomach, and the movement of gas within, back to the forefront; Bruce can hear the gurgling and rumbling of the trapped flatulence from where he stands, and there's a quiet, desperate whimper that sounds like it's coming from deep inside the other.

The bathroom turns out to be quite small, and the tiny confines of the almost cramped room only serve to make the two of them all the more painfully aware of just how close they are to one another. Banner can feel Steve's breath tickling his face.

"Steve- Steve..." he breathes, watching as the man clambers to sit upon the lid of the closed toilet. The blonde clutches a hand to his gut, succulent lips parted as he breathes fairly heavily. Bruce swallows thickly, then, the outline of the other’s fat cock all too visible from beneath his sweats. The doctor seats himself atop the tiled flooring.

For a moment, Steve just breathes out, his big, heavy belly expanding and contracting in the air. Bruce can't ignore his scent, or the heat coming off of his body, or the deep groans of his stomach that come to echo against the walls as they sit in the small, cramped bathroom together.

"Okay..." he looks down to the other, nodding, his hands still clutching his belly tight. "Okay... where do we start?"

"I-I... I don't..." Bruce's cheeks tinge pink as he clumsily stumbles over his words, "how do you want to go about this?"

At that, a slight grin begins to spread across Steve’s face. "I don't know," he says, with a small shrug of his massive shoulders. "But I... I think I trust you, so I'll, uh..." he looks down at himself. "I'll let you take the lead."

Instinctively, Bruce finds himself swallowing thickly at the anxious lump that forms within his throat at the premise - the anticipation - of what's about to happen next. "You're sure..." he puts a hand to one of Steve's knees as he kneels, other hand ghosting over the next - he is doing nothing to hide the hard-on that strains within his trousers. "You're sure I can... do this?"

The blonde looks to him again, and finds himself nodding once more. "Yeah," he says. He seems to pause, weighing his own words, and then he repeats himself, albeit more softly: "Yeah, I'm... I'm sure."

"You know there's no going back if you agree to do this with me." The obnoxious bubbling of Steve's gut only serves to rile the doctor up even further as each roil bounces off of the cheap, echoing walls. "I... I really don't want this to be something we'll both come to regret." His gaze lowers to the outline of the man's thick dick.

Steve, for his part, gives something between a grunt and a chuckle at that. He opens his mouth as if he's prepared to say something, but instead, his face scrunches up a bit in concentration, and he groans in what sounds like a mixture of contentment and anguish. Bubbles pop inside his stomach as his body shudders, and a long, wet, ripping fart echoes throughout the bathroom. "Yes," he says, the word itself a whole world of nervousness. "Yes, I'm sure, I want to do this with you." He takes a slow, deep breath. "I trust you."

The brunnette's gaze is cast from his bulging gut and down to his burning loins once more. A deep breath resounds in said man's chest as he exhales deeply through his nose. Bruce's breath is trembling, anxious, as he raises his dominant hand and looks up and into the gaze of the man in front of him. "Then..." his voice comes out a whisper, "can I touch your cock?"

There's no hesitation whatsoever; Steve's gaze doesn't even flicker. He nods, and the tension that was holding his facial muscles tight for the past several minutes finally, slowly, melts away. "Yeah..." he lets out a deep breath, and shifts to slide his sweatpants down, where they gather in a bundle around his ankles. Now, his plump, pulsing cock is exposed and beating; balls residing, heavy, against his thighs.

Banner's movements are slow, careful, as he leans in close to Steve's shaft. The heat of the blonde's body radiates and thrums into him, the soupy squelching of his tummy only seeming to increase in volume the closer he moves. By now, the doctor's hot breath extends across the sensitive head, and he watches the man's cock twitch in response to his gentle touch as he grips the shaft, carefully. Bruce's heart thrums in his chest, beating up and into his throat where he can feel his ears heating red.

Steve doesn't react at all; he keeps his gaze steady, placing his own hands on his belly, and, once more, he seems to communicate with just the barest hint of eye contact. Yes... everything is fine, and when the doctor's palm slides up against his manhood, he takes a soft inhale of breath.

Gradually, open-mouthed, Bruce slowly lowers himself onto the man's glistening tip, lips enveloping the pulsing organ as he begins to suckle and lick.

Steve's eyes shoot open wide as a low moan escapes his lips. He grips his belly more tightly, and his face twists ever so slightly in a moan. But he's holding himself up, and he seems to be able to relax enough to let the other work on him. A few moments of this, and he closes his eyes once more, pleasured sounds spilling from his lips.

Hollowing out his cheeks so as to take more of him in later on, Bruce begins to bob his head at a steady rhythm, humming around the other's cock and sending ripples to vibrate along his shaft. His hands rest at the blonde’s thighs, the man's sore belly bulging out above his head.

Steve begins to rub his belly. "Wow..." he stares at the floor, then at Bruce, and then at the floor again. "That... that helps. A lot." He lets out a little smirk. "You're, uh..." he lets out a teasing chuckle, brow cocking upward. "You're... very good at your job, huh?"

"Mmh..." Bruce hums, teasing, mouth full of cock and preventing him from speaking. The man uses a free hand to reach out for what part of Steve's shaft hasn't yet been taken into his mouth, before he moves to fondle at his heavy balls. Fuck, the sounds his stomach is making only serve to drive me insane, Bruce thinks, eyelids fluttering as his own neglected cock pushes flush against the restrictive fabric of his trousers.

The blonde laughs a little, but it soon turns into a cough, and his stomach begins clenching and spasming again. He grimaces, and his expression begins to lose its friendliness. A small part of Bruce worries for a second that he might've pushed him too far, but the feeling soon passes when Steve's eyes soften and he shakes his head. "I just need a minute," he says, once his stomach has quieted again. "Can I have... just a minute, please?"

Almost immediately, the doctor's eyes dart towards Steve's beachball-belly. It doesn't like long before he comes off of his shaft gently, slick, and with a lewd pop that leaves his stomach doing flips.

Steve's gut elicits greasy moans and roils that bounce and echo off the bathroom walls. Each and every wet rumble goes straight to Banner's own pulsing organ as he - leant back - begins to grope at himself through his clothing.

After only a few minutes, his body's spasms and cramps finally begin to cease. The blonde looks to Bruce once more, his eyes and mouth stretched into the gentlest of smiles. "I... I hope you can forgive me for... for earlier," he says, his voice still tinged with embarrassment - but the tone is now far softer than earlier in the day. He looks down at himself again and begins to rub his belly once more, the expression on his face now one of utter bliss.

"Don’t worry about it," the other's breath hitches in his throat as he rolls his hips into his palm, "you have nothing to apologise for. If anything- if I can be honest with you?-" a grunt- "I found it kinda- that's to say- immensely... hot."

For a moment, Steve's face remains as it is: totally unmoving - and Bruce can't read him. "Y'know..." he puts his hands behind his head and leans back against the wall of the toilet's tank, "I'm not sure I'd call it fun, but... I think it's the best I've ever felt in my life."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

“Because having those huge hands of yours pushing into me the way they were was so hot… watching your face as you tended to me – you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Enjoyed making me blow in that office… and now you’re sucking me off in a public bathroom. What more could a guy want?” Rubbing his aching belly, he turns to look at Banner once more, and he gives him a look that's impossible to misunderstand. "Would you be willing... to do it again?"

"What, to rub your belly or suck your cock?" Bruce questions, sly smirk decorating his features. Yes, and yes.

Without pause, without hesitation, the other man finds himself taking a deep breath in against his bulging gut. A subtle grin paints his face, and he shifts himself forwards against his tailbone, rolling his hips upward in order to expose the very base of his bare, chiselled ass, peppered with coarse public hair. "Both. God, Bruce, you have no idea. I wanna fart on your cock so bad-" a breath- "would you- would you let me do that? Please?"

A bolt of excitement shoots throughout the doctor's core, then, heating his body with rods of electricity as he fails to hold back a moan, "Fucking- you can fucking fart in my mouth, for all I care!" The grip on his dick tightens, and his pelvis bucks forward on its own accord.

Steve looks down at himself, and his hands grip around his own belly in the same motion, though he keeps his eyes on Banner the whole time.

"I..." he begins. Bruce can almost see the thoughts racing in his mind, even if his expression is soft. "Yes, please!"

Frantically, the other man's hands scramble to work at unbuckling his belt. He pulls the faux leather from his trouser-loops, the buckle falling to the ground with a resounding clunk, and before long, his slacks fall in a bundle around his knees where he's knelt - the doctor's proud cock stands at attention, bead of pre glistening at the tip. Bruce's voice is low, gravelly. "Let me take that dick of yours down my throat, first."

A steady nod.

Once more, Bruce lowers himself between Steve's musky thighs, dominant hand gripping his own neglected cock as he pushes his cheek into the blonde's beating shaft. He takes a deep breath, inhaling his scent, deeply, before trailing up with his flexible tongue. Bruce takes the head into his mouth once again, salty pre tickling at his tongue.

A sudden sound - so faint and slight that it's nearly inaudible - suddenly emanates from deep within Steve's stomach.

"Mmh," the vibrating hum trails along the other man's sensitive parts. Bruce's eyes are hooded, glazed, as he slowly takes him deeper.

A deep, throaty rumble issues from deep within the blonde's gut again as a low, guttural moan slips between his lips. In a way, it's a sound not dissimilar from the noises he made earlier in the doctor's office.

Bruce breathes through his nose, pleasured moans slipping by his occupied lips every now and then as he works at the other's cock. The whole affair is slippery, wet, as he slurps at Steve's thick dick. An ominous gurgle sounds above Banner's head, and before long, he bottoms out, Steve's cock-head hitting the back of his throat.

Steve takes a deep breath, and his hands return to his side, thumbs now hooked onto his hips, pressing into his belly. His face is twisted in a pained, yet pleasured, grimace that stretches the very skin on his face. After a while, with his ears in such close proximity to Steve, Bruce hears the soft crinkling of the man's gut as it begins to spasm. But that doesn't at all stop the brunnette from looking up at him with pleading eyes, communicating a seething, undeniable message: Fuck my throat, Steve.

The bloat of his gut bulges forward with each inhalation, foreboding rumbles rippling across the hard, gaseous swell. Hold it in.

The doctor watches as Steve's hands move to clasp his sides. His head begins to bob a little in time with his cramping, and suddenly, a low groan escapes him, and he presses down, even harder, upon his aching belly. "... No." His lips begin to curl into a more prominent snarl, but there's a hint of something else there, too. Something that almost sounds like a sob.

Mercilessly, Bruce rams himself down in an instant atop Steve's pulsing cock, enveloping the organ in a hot wetness that leaves his toes curling as he takes things into his own hands - but the low moans his stomach is eliciting only become louder, and more persistent with time.

Steve growls low, long, and loud - but he's interrupted when a small, sharp pop sounds from his belly. As the doctor listens, he hears the squelching of liquids shifting, before another, even louder pop resonates within his gut. Finally, the noises Bruce was hearing before return - only this time, there's a low, steady gurgling from within his very deepest insides, like a pot left sitting on the stove.

"Ah!" Steve suddenly cries out with a surprised shout, teeth bared, grasping for Banner with one hand. "I can't--!" and suddenly, he's looking up, not down.

It's now or never. In one swift motion, Bruce comes off of Steve's length, string of saliva still attaching him at the lip. "Yes you can, Steve," his voice is low, and his fingers move to grasp a hold of Steve's heavy testicles. He pulls, harsh, at the malleable skin, and pushes himself upward to press his own body into the other’s. "You hear me, Steve? You can. Hold it in for me."

The blonde's hands reach up and grasp Bruce's waist almost urgently, and he seems to be squeezing him - not in a bad way, mind, but in a very desperate manner. He closes his eyes, and with his nostrils fully flared, he begins to inhale, then slowly, slowly, he begins to exhale... but the pressure from inside his belly doesn't seem to subside; rather, it begins to become so intense that it's difficult to tell whether the sound coming from his mouth is a groan of pain, or pleasure.

"Look at me- look at me, Steve," the doctor speaks, squeezing and twisting at the man’s balls. "I want you to hold it in as long as you can. I wanna see you bloat up all round and tight, just as you were before, and just as the pain becomes too much, blow it all off in my mouth. You understand me, Steve? Do you get that?"

Bruce feel Steve's eyes, burning with a certain manic, fevered desire, on his own as the blonde's breathing slowly quickens with each painful breath that he sucks in. "Yes..." his words are a half-gasp that sound like they're about to be uttered as another sharp pain shoots from deep inside him. His eyes widen further, and he strains, his neck muscles clenching before he groans.

"Say my name."

With a low moan, Steve's eyes roll up into his skull, and he begins to speak in such a low, hoarse voice that it seems to be coming from a place far deeper than his throat. "Dr. Banner..." his arms clench about the man's waist with such an iron grip that the brunnette can feel his knuckles beginning to press into the skin on the small of his back.

"You're goddamn right." Both hands position themselves atop the other's gut and push.

Steve moans as Bruce pushes his hands into his tender belly, and his arms grip so tight that the doctor feels as though he'll be drawn to him no matter what. His face, already twisted in pain, is contorted into something like a snarl as he clenches his teeth and his face turns red.

"Now I want you to push yourself forward and raise your legs as wide as you can. Think you can do that for me?"

Steve gasps for a moment, and then he grits his teeth, and Bruce can feel his shoulders and arms tense as he heaves his body upwards. His fingers grip into the man's waist like a pair of claws, and he begins to raise his legs, one at a time, until he's holding said limbs in place with his arms.

"Fuck, that's it." Banner's words come out a whisper as he leans back once more, simply admiring the view before him. He looks upon Steve's sensitive, puckering asshole; watching as the tight ring of muscle clenches and unclenches against the wave of gas he must be so desperately trying to hold back.

After a few seconds, Steve's straining limbs grow still and his hands clench into fists. A bead of sweat clings to his brow, and the vein connecting his temple to his forehead seems to pulse and bulge. He's very clearly struggling now - not with his hands or his legs or anything else, but with trying to stop himself from exploding.

Ravenous and feral, like a hunting dog caught on a scent trail, Bruce harshly grasps the insides of both thighs, somehow managing to push them further apart than they already were. "Let's see what you got, big guy." Slowly, teasing, he licks a fat stripe with the flat of his tongue up the muscular man's quivering hole, up to the very seam of his balls. He hears his breath hitch within his throat, the pulse through his skin like a trigger getting ready to shoot.

Steve's hands grip beneath his limbs so hard - knees bracing him by the wall and by the sink - that Banner can see his fingertips turning white. His entire body strains, every muscle in his neck, his torso, even his feet clenching as he holds it in. "You.... want to find out?" he growls between clenched teeth, sounding like a bear that's just been taunted into a fight.

"Fuck yeah, I do," the doctor's mouth is occupied now as he latches on to the tight ring of muscle, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin in the process. His fingernails dig into Steve's skin, leaving crescent-shaped imprints behind.

Steve groans as Bruce bites down, and his fingers dig into his palms until they're all but tearing. Suddenly, like a floodgate breaking, his entire stomach seems to relax with a deep, rumbling, throaty glug.

The other man's eyes trail upwards at the sound, but, alas, from this position, he is unable to see the way that Steve's face contorts. His puckering hole clenches around Bruce's tongue as he teases him with entrance, and his fingernails only dig deeper into Steve's flesh at the sound. Banner's loins are heavy, cock slippery and leaking pre all over the head.

The hot pulsing takes over his senses.

A deep, rattling, burbling sound starts to rise from inside the massive, musclebound man, like a volcano about to erupt.

A low growl emanates from within Bruce's throat, the primal - feral - predator-like urge to just fuck up and into Steve's ass almost too much to bear. He opens his mouth, pulling his tongue away, and breathes a hot sigh over the man's twitching entrance.

Steve moans, loudly and involuntarily, as he feels the other's breath against his rear. The vibrations from his throat grow steadily louder, until they're more like the low-voiced rumble of thunder. The quivering of his sphincter picks up as the pressure inside him increases, and his entire body lurches forward. His hands seize the backs of his knees anew and are squeezed even tighter as the low grunt rising from between Steve's clenched jaw grows louder still, and the tension in his rear mounts even higher.

"Can you hold it?" Bruce asks, breathless, eyes hooded and gaze hazy, red with arousal, "Or have you met your match?"

"Not in the slightest," the blonde growls, his words an almost unintelligible growl. The obnoxious rumbling from his gut has grown to rival the sound of a passing train, and he's shaking, straining, like a dam about to burst.

An abrupt, unforgiving clap stings against Steve's inner thigh, and then once more against his hole, leading him to jerk momentarily in the opposite direction. Bruce's hand tingles hot with the force of the slap, and a red imprint glows upon his skin. "Then you won't mind if I... take things a bit further... will you?"

The question is rhetorical, theoretical; a test to see just how far Steve could really be pushed before his body fights back – or, in other words, explodes.

But Bruce can hear the pressure mounting in Steve's rear with each passing second, his abdomen and back tightening so much that his muscles almost seem to resemble granite. Finally, the tension in his rear grows even mightier than before, and the blonde's eyes roll up and into his skull. His fingers clench into his palms, and he lets out a low, guttural moan that seems to drag on forever, and ever.

"Fuck me..." Banner needs no more indication before he latches his hot mouth onto the other's quivering hole once more, lips closing shut around the muscle as he eagerly, enthusiastically, suckles and nibbles at the clenching entrance.

Steve's body seems to clench ever tighter, and his muscles quake and ripple in a powerful grip. He moans out, head thrown back, as, in one final, explosive, cataclysmic spasm, he lets loose into the doctor's mouth. What he had been holding in for so long now shoots out like a flood, like someone had simply unplugged him.

Without pause, without hesitation, Bruce swallows down each and every gaseous ripple that erupts into his mouth from Steve's convulsing hole. The smell is foul, the taste is... well, can one even assign a taste to gas? His cock throbs, facing the sky as he clenches back the urge to blow his load right there and then.

It lasts about five whole seconds, the longest five whole seconds of his life as Bruce is literally choked on Steve's powerful and voluminous gas. He can't even swallow it all, so much of it, and he's practically gasping from the lack of fresh air as his tongue is pressed up against his throat. Banner's nose and mouth are packed full of gas... so much gas, and above his head, Steve's capacious gut bubbles and roils like a witch's cauldron ready to overflow. The doctor clenches his thighs together as best he can from his kneeling position, as the squelching sounds only go right to his reddened dick.

At the apex of the whole, terrible ordeal, Bruce's ears ring and every colour in the entire world starts to feel too bright, and finally, finally, he gets a second to breathe again, as the air around him girths into a silence more profound than he'd ever thought possible.

The pleasure that had wracked his body had been all too much to handle, as the brunnette looks down and sees thick ropes of white trailing down his sensitive organ. He looks up, then; Steve is breathing heavily, and though it may seem either a miracle or some grand coincidence, the mound of his stomach has been painted, generously, in white.

Amidst the blissful haze that grips him with each breath, Bruce grips his own cock, moves to smear and mix his and Steve's seed in a hot, messy ordeal atop the man's stomach before dutifully mopping it up with his begging tongue.

Steve looks down at him then, his breathing heavy, full. His cheeks are rosy, pupils blown, and his gaze is expectant.

Bruce stands from the cold, hard flooring with cracking joints, unable to suppress the grunt that passes by his closed lips. The other man's legs come down, shaking, and the doctor leans in to plant a delicious, sloppy kiss to those succulent lips of his - tongue passing the generous spill of both their loads from his mouth and into Steve's.

In his mouth, it tastes... hot, almost salty-bitter... even tangy, in an odd but not wholly unpleasant way.

Steve's breathing is still heavy, ragged, but he has enough strength left in him to hold Banner's head and give him a long, lingering kiss, which he only ends after he has swallowed, completely, everything given to him with a pleasured whimper. After a moment, his breathing relaxes and his grip loosens.

After a moment of silence, of just their breathing filling the air, foreheads connected, the doctor breathes, "Steve..."

The blonde looks at him. Bruce might be surprised at the tenderness in his eyes, the softness. He looks relaxed. Still, he says nothing; he doesn't need to. The way his eyes seem to soften in the light of his gentle touch, to the way one corner of his mouth begins to turn upward, to the way his gaze starts to melt into Bruce's own. He simply looks at him, and wills him to go on.

"I- I..." a breath, "thank you... for doing this. This- this wasn't very... professional of me, I'm afraid." Banner's cheeks are dusted pink, the tips of his ears heated as his heart pounds within his throat.

Steve doesn't reply, doesn't even speak. All he does is gaze back into Bruce's eyes, and he can tell that he's happy. He's content. There's a gentleness in his eyes, a kindness, a love. He just gazes at the doctor, and, for a few moments, nothing else occurs.

A light smile tugs at Bruce's lips. "Come on, let's get us cleaned up."

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