chapter 2

The rest of the semester passed mostly without incident, and their conversations never seemed to progress beyond polite, friendly small talk. Now and then, Rory would mention his size, as he’d done the first time, but Claire never felt brave enough to bring up a fact that he was either unaware of, or ignoring: he was getting fatter.

Claire hadn’t been certain of it herself for the first few weeks, but it had become gradually apparent that the already massive man was gaining weight. The shirt he’d worn on his first day, which had been tight to begin with, now seemed dangerously stretched across his swelling stomach, the buttons straining, revealing slivers of stretch mark-laden skin between them. Claire watched his progress with intense fascination, and sometimes had a hard time keeping herself from showing her excitement. By midterms, Rory seemed to have outgrown his entire wardrobe, and soon began the process of filling into his new clothes, which seemed to have been unable to keep up by finals week.

Christmas break had passed slowly. Claire couldn’t afford to fly all the way home to her family in the Midwest, so she spent much of her time in her roommate-free apartment curling up on the couch and watching TV. During the day, she’d do prep-work for the following semester, spend a few hours on the treadmill at the gym, walk around the sleepy, snowy neighborhoods surrounding campus. And at night, she’d think about Rory.

The last time she’d seen him, he was waddling out of a chemistry lecture, his massive butt wedged into a pair of tired-looking gym shorts, his head barely clearing the door frame. His size forced him to turn sideways a bit, his belly brushing against both walls as he squeezed through. Laying atop her mattress, her hand drifting across her narrow chest and between her legs, Claire imagined pulling Rory into her bed. She thought about unbuttoning his tight shirt, her fingers sliding under the fabric and across the wide, enticing landscape of his midsection. She thought about how far she could reach across with her arms, of pressing her body into him, of climbing on top of his body as their hips bucked into each other.

And most of all, she regretted not talking to Rory more.

The first week of second semester was a long, painful descent into the realization that Rory was no longer in any of her classes. Part of her wasn’t surprised – she’d just been lucky before – but part of her was bummed out. There was no logical reason to be so disappointed, but logic wasn’t the prime factor. All through the break, Rory had clouded her thoughts like he filled out the seat at the lecture hall. She had used them like a protective shield around her, the image that she’d come into class and there he’d be, wagging at her, this massive oaf of a human being.

But that hadn’t happened. She didn’t even see him on campus.

Winter trudged by, and took its time into early spring. Snow was still all over the ground, and not a pristine white blanket, but sludgy, brown, dirty slush. It stuck to Claire’s boots, and she stamped them off inside the bus shelter before sitting down on the little plastic bench. The sun was out, at least, but the air was still bitterly cold. She rubbed her gloves together, and huddled inside her coat, watching her breaths rise in short bursts. Her teeth began to chatter, and she was on the verge of shivering when, suddenly, the freezing wind stopped.

“Room for one more?”


Claire looked up, and craned her head around. Standing – no, filling - in the doorway to the plexiglass hut was Rory. His nose poked out from under a wooly cap, and he was packed into a hoodie, his midsection filling it in a smooth, round arc. It rose and fell with each heavy breath as they condensed in the frigid air. Claire suddenly realized that he hadn’t stopped growing, and she unintentionally let out a quiet chirp.

Rory smiled. “Or maybe just me.”

“No, y-yeah… hey! There’s space.” Claire patted her glove on the bench.

“Long time no see, huh?” Rory grunted as he pushed his way into the hut, the top of his head scraping the ceiling. He carefully maneuvered his expansive rear down onto the bench and settled in, his huge gut sagging between his lap, his plump sides compressing Claire against the opposite wall.

“That all right?”

Claire nodded, exhaling sharply, not wanting him to know how much strain his body was placing on her. She felt fragile next to the lumbering mountain towering there, and she only just started to understand how much she had missed him.

“Nice to sit,” Rory grunted, still huffing, and Claire could faintly feel his heartbeat vibrating through his fat. “Walked all the way down here, and holy fuck, are my feet sore. Oh man, so where’ve you been?”

Claire shrugged as much as she could, her shoulders pinned beneath his arm. “School, I guess. This and that.”

“It’s funny, on the way home from the biology final, I was like… man, I shoulda gotten your phone number or somethin’. Jeez. Oh well. Did you have a good break?”

“Yeah, it was okay,” she replied untruthfully. Rory’s body seemed to still be settling – the pressure, as soft as he was, grew. Claire shifted slightly, finding herself unable to take a full breath. “Didn’t really do much. First Christmas in the city, though, so… that was kinda nice. I don’t come from a place that snows.”

“You were in the city? Man… we coulda hung out or somethin’. Damn,” Rory glanced at her and noticed that she’d had to fold her arms in front of her for lack of space. “Oh, you got enough room? I can get up.”

“N-no, I’m fine, really!”

“Alright. Where’re you going, anyways?”

At this point, Claire could feel her head become dizzy as her ribs were further compressed by the enormous man. She had completely forgotten how cold it was; Rory’s body seemed to radiate heat, despite the temperature. “I-I’m not sure, actually. The mall. Maybe a movie, or something? Just to get out.”

“A movie by yourself?”

“I guess. How about you?”

Rory looked ahead, towards the pavement, and shrugged. “I mean… same, really. What’re you seeing?”

“Not sure yet.” Claire swallowed nervously, and she felt her cheeks flush red. “Do… do you wanna come?”

Rory looked down at her and grinned again. His fuzz-covered double chin, which had begun to expand into a fuzzy ring of flab all the way around his neck, bulged. When the bus finally arrived, it was crowded with people eager to escape the cold, and they were forced to stand in the aisle, which Rory nearly filled. Every time the bus slowed down, he would tip forward, and his immense sphere of a belly pressed firmly against Claire’s back. He seemed to not mind how often his sides brushed up against the people next to him… or he was used to it, at the very least.

The journey only lasted a few minutes, but Rory was huffing from the moment he wrung himself off of the bus. At the mall, Claire found that he was even more lumbering than he’d been at the end of finals, and carefully paced herself next to him, trying not to stare as his gut wobbled in his hoodie with each plodding step, his prominent side rolls bouncing over his thick, sturdy hips. The only conclusion, Claire thought, is that he must be intentionally stuffing his face at every chance he got. There was no way that somebody could pile on that much weight and seem so blissfully ignorant of the effect that his obesity was having on him.

By the time they’d arrived at the top of the sloping path to the cinema, Rory was panting wearily, and he leaned one hand against the ticket machine as they ordered. The lobby inside was even warmer and noisier than the rest of the mall, and crowds of people bustled around them. Rory groaned.

“These places, man, I’m sweating like crazy. Hold up a minute.”

Claire followed as he retreated to an out of the way corner of the lobby. Grunting, he began to take his hoodie off, struggling a bit to unroll it over his bulky midsection. As he pulled the fabric over his head, the t-shirt underneath rode up, and up, and Claire watched as Rory’s belly was revealed all the way up to his navel. Claire bit her lip as she saw how deeply it curved into his belly, the bright red stretch marks that decorated his skin, and for a brief, exciting moment, imagined her tongue poking its way inside. The hoodie finally came over his head and he folded it across his arm before, shyly, tugging his shirt back down. The mounds of fat across his chest wobbled, so, so much larger than her own slender breasts. She bit her lip again, harder. It was all that prevented her from throwing herself at Rory right there and then.

Claire motioned towards the concession stand.

“Popcorn?”

With his free hand, Rory patted his stomach, seemingly out of instinct. “Oh man, yeah, I’m starving. Can’t even remember the last time I ate.” he said. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “I’ll buy.”

When they finally arrived in the theater, it was with an armful of snacks. Rory had insisted on a tub for each of them, and had casually upgraded to a combo paired with soda and hot dogs - then, following some random craving at the cashier, had added a platter of nachos and some chocolate bars. These had all gone onto a Christmas-colored gift card, and the food had to be arranged carefully on the floor around their seats. Claire couldn’t remember much about the film - some generic action thriller with a lot of explosions - but she could vividly recall how Rory had vacuumed up everything they’d bought, and how he’d bulged over the armrest into Claire’s seat. She thought how his hand had unconsciously plunged itself into her popcorn in the desperate search for more food, how she had barely eaten more than a mouthful before handing the rest of it off to him. How, during quiet moments, when Rory wasn’t chewing, he was still breathing strenuously, huge and warm and soft.

So, so, so soft.

They continued to hang out semi-regularly for the rest of that semester, spending casual weekend afternoons at Claire’s apartment playing video games, studying, watching movies, hitting up the mall. Rory seemed to naturally gravitate towards more sedentary activities, but Claire didn’t mind. Her roommate would occasionally scowl when she walked in to see him sprawled out on their furniture, his belly barely contained by faded graphic t-shirts, snacks and wrappers littering the table; but Claire was too enamored with the man beside her to even bring herself to care.

The distant politeness that had hovered over their first semester dissipated almost immediately, and Claire began to associate her enormous classmate with a sense of friendly tranquility. He’d settle into Claire’s apartment, taking up most of the couch, and became a fixture, a big, comfy, agreeable mass whose laughter brightened up the whole apartment. And it felt much, much emptier when he left.