maxwants2fragrobos - Tumblr blog

maxwants2fragrobos · 18 days ago

Text

Chubformers drabble #260!

Characters: Optimus & Bumblebee (G1)

Word count: 2k

Dinner was a success, and the small but fruitful celebration was underway. Every Autobot that had an appetite for good foods and good company had found their way to a seat at the table, and their plates were immediately stacked high. Nothing ever beat tasty food with good company, and Bumblebee was having a grand old time chatting with friends across the table and discreetly nuzzling against Optimus side. Everything started out perfect, and as the celebration carried out, both his belly’s appetite and his social battery were filled up nicely.

There was only one issue, however, though Bumblebee slowly realized said issue was of his own making.

A chubby frame like his was built for events such as these, and a little pleasant conversation held between polishing off one plate after another piled high with his favorite foods was heaven on earth. As usual, he was sat right next to Optimus, and throughout the night, he juggled chatting with friends, checking in with his prideful and happy companion, and nodding his appreciation every time said companion graciously poured another heaping plate for him to take.

It was nice. The evening was a much-needed break from the usual monotony of work and responsibilities, and Bumblebee had been looking forward to the dinner party all day. He was happy to have gotten to sit next to Optimus that evening, too—it was what he preferred anymore, and he could Optimus felt similarly from the bright gleam in his optics every time he saw Bumblebee coming over to park his chubby aft into the seat next to him.

It was nice, and it was perfect. Bumblebee could chat with his friends, Optimus could indulge himself in little shows of affection between conversations, and the two could enjoy their meals together. Tonight, however, Bumblebee was running into a bit of a problem. It was his own mistake, he knew, having failed to inform Optimus of when the servings of food could stop being scooped onto his constantly emptying plate. It was hard, though. It was hard to catch the Prime’s attention tonight, and that wasn’t without trying.

Optimus was distracted that evening. He was chatty and oblivious, his attention devoted to the intriguing conversation flowing between the both on his other side and another mech sharing to the conversation from across the table. That was fine, of course. Bumblebee never needed his constant attention… but he did need to draw him away from his discussions and his socializing, and he needed to do it quickly.

The longer Optimus grew to know him, the more he learned how much Bumblebee enjoyed his soft, chubby look. He liked food, and he liked having a great big appetite. He liked being a little chunky as well, and he loved the way the pounds clung to his frame. It was what kept Optimus sitting close to him during that dinner party, Bumblebee knew, and it was what made Optimus break from his conversation every so often to glance down at the empty plate sitting in front of his scout before reaching across the table and scooping up a heaping serving of the nearest dish of food available.

Bumblebee couldn’t seem to put a stop to it. He hadn’t been successful yet, as every attempt he made at catching Optimus’ attention ended in Optimus making that same delightful sound in the back of his throat as he served up another massive plateful of food for Bumblebee to polish off. It was a constant back and forth all night that Bumblebee had failed to make any progress with, and with each heaping plate slowly polished off through the power of a set of iron tanks and an appetite big enough to dwarf any massive ‘Con, he worked his way deeper into the pit he had unintentionally dug himself into.

Chubby mechs had chubby perks, and one of those perks, Bumblebee had learned, was the ability to pack away more food than was humanly possible. It took a lot of fuel to keep him looking the way he did, but boy, did he like it. The challenge was nothing, and at his size, a bit of extra energon here and there did the trick. It had made walking into this dinner party all the more exciting—no more was he limited by his small stature and even smaller appetite. No food was left untouched, and no serving was smaller than it should have been.

The dinner had started wonderfully, and with Optimus at his side to reach across the table and make a grab for whatever dishes Bumblebee couldn’t reach himself, his hopes were fulfilled. The food had been delicious, and his belly was tastefully stuffed and discreetly rounded by the time he’d slowed down. Optimus’ help with offering him a few more forkfuls here and there hadn’t seemed so bad in the beginning, and at first, Bumblebee was happy to polish off the extra food.

He hadn’t minded the added helpings heaped onto his plate at first. A little extra dessert here hit the spot just right, and a little something savory there balanced out his taste buds nicely. It was when he started getting stuffed that Bumblebee tried to catch Optimus’ attention, but by then, Optimus was already in his own little world.

There were small smiles and gentle rubs at his belly every time he nudged his leader’s side. There were wide optics and quick servos rushing to fill Bumblebee’s plate every time he sighed a little too loudly about the pressure his swollen gut. Optimus was still as present and caring as he was worried and affectionate, but the party was overwhelming with events, discussions, and food, and his attention was already being parted between satiated Bumblebee’s appetite and listening intently to whatever conversation had sparked his interest next.

Bumblebee quickly lost track of the number of plates he had worked his way through, and he failed to count the amount of dishes he was sure to had eaten up all on his own. His belly was massive by the end, and his faceplates were hot with the strain of keeping his cool. He was stuffed, so stuffed. He wasn’t just a little full anymore, nor was he still teetering on the edge of uncomfortably stuffed. He was packed tight and filled to the brim. He could hardly feel his tanks fighting to digest the immense weight of food stuffed inside them anymore, he was so full.

His belly was firm and rounded, his plating warped around the edges. Each movement hurt more than the last as he powered through each breath and stared down the latest helping of food stacked onto his plate. He felt ready to burst. His tanks were stuffed way beyond their capacity, and his belly was stretched to its limits. He was past the point of being stuffed silly. Hell, he was stuffed fuller than the holiday birds their human friends filled during special events… and that had to have been something.

The food was delicious, and the dishes had been amazing, but the thought of picking his fork back up and finishing what was left on his plate made Bumblebee’s tanks lurch. He lowered his helm and groaned against the pressure, his plate forgotten and his food left untouched as he held gentle servos to the swell of his gut and hoped for relief to come.

The relief came quickly, thank Primus. Alas, it was not the relief he had wanted, nor was it the relief he had hoped for.

“Bee?” he heard Optimus say, soft and concerned as he turned to assess the stuffed scout’s plate. “Are you all right?”

Bumblebee almost felt guilty for not managing to finish off the last of his meal, but slag, he had eaten more than he could handle already. The only response he managed to muster was a sickly sounding groan as he held his belly beneath the table and curled in on its gurgling mass. It was embarrassing, yes, but embarrassment was much preferred over any other more dramatic spectacle of showing the room he had eaten far, far too much that evening… and all thanks to his Prime, who had been too oblivious to realize his limits.

Optimus was quick to excuse them both, claiming an early morning and an ailing scout as his rushed reasoning. From there, he carefully ushered Bumblebee’s poor self back to his quarters, all the while keeping a servo around the scout’s back and his pace slow and steady.

It wasn’t often that Bumblebee found himself in Optimus’ quarters, but the massive berth was cool beneath his hot frame, and the pillows worked nicely as support to his bubbly and aching tanks. He all but melted into the middle, his sigh of relief faint but audible as he relaxed into a series of groans that followed. From the side of his berth, Optimus stood apologetic and ashamed.

“Bumblebee,” he said, a hesitant servo reached over to graze the surface of the scout’s swollen belly. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I hadn’t realized—“

“It’s okay,” Bumblebee mumbled back. “It’s fine.”

“You tried to stop me,” Optimus said, his expression sad. “You tried to warn me.”

“It happens,” Bumblebee shrugged back. “It’s food. I like food. I ate too much, yeah, but it’ll pass.”

He knew it would pass. He knew it would get better. In the meantime, though, it hurt. Slag, did it hurt. He turned on his side, moving ever so carefully to avoid jostling his angry belly, and stared up at Optimus with a tired smile.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve way overdone it,” he said, “but it is the first time I’ve had company.”

He lifted a shaky servo and gestured towards the space beside him. The berth was big as is. He was in the middle, but there was still room for another bot. Optimus shifted on his pedes, looking uncertain but hopeful.

“Yes, well…” he began. “I don’t want to crowd you. I don’t want to hurt you, either—not any further.”

“You won’t,” Bumblebee quickly said with a laugh. “I’m already there, Optimus.”

He paused. Optimus remained uncertain, his face unreadable. He was sorry, Bumblebee could tell. He wanted to help.

“If you don’t mind…” the scout said, shifting until he was stretched out on his back. “I don’t mind doing it myself, but something that always helps me is a nice little belly rub.”

“A belly rub?” Optimus perked up. “Of course. Here, let me join you…”

The berth was cool beneath him, but the warmth of a frame pressed close was even better. Bumblebee relaxed against Optimus side as the Prime gently reached out to palm at his belly, and almost instantly, the pain started to settle. Another soft sigh had Optimus looking brighter and happier, and Bumblebee took that as a good sign.

“Like this?” he asked, his fingers working gently, his palm pressing down carefully. “Your belly feels firm… are you sure this won’t hurt it?”

Bumblebee hummed again, his optics falling closed. “Nah. Belly rubs help the most out of anything.” After a moment, he added, “just like that, yeah… nice and gentle. Feels good.”

Optimus didn’t speak again, but the touch remained the same. Gentle, steady, working away at every little spot that caused him pain. It was perfect. It felt nice. Most importantly, it reassured the Prime.

His tanks would remain stuffed until morning, but the soothing touch from Optimus’ servo worked wonders. Bumblebee didn’t speak much after that, either—he didn’t need to, really. All was settled between them again, even his tanks. The morning would bring more conversations and more reassurances, but for now, Optimus rubbed at the scout’s grumbling belly, and Bumblebee relished in the relief.

#chubformers #fix rec

24 notes · View notes