chapter 26: the beast

Instead, I wind up at a bar.

I only intend to stop in for a minute, to steady my nerves, but one drink turns into three, and I realize upon finishing the third that I probably shouldn't drive for a little while. Which is fine, that's fine. I'll get a cab home, come back tomorrow, fetch my car, go to a hospital then. I'm pleasantly buzzing, floating above my problems, now, and nothing in the world can break my sense of calm. And I haven't had a lot of calm, in my life, lately, so I'm going to take a moment to enjoy it, here, while I can...

"Hey! Brian, right?"

It takes me a minute to recognize him in clothes, but it's one of Paul's two friends from the gym, the fatter, hairier one, his bulk stuffed into a suit tailored for a much smaller man. He's sitting at a table, an order of nachos that's clearly meant to be split and a jug of beer in front of him, and when I turn he waves.

"Oh... um... hi..."

"How's it going, man? Weird seeing you here, you don't seem like the kind of guy I'd find at a bar at two in the afternoon in a Wednesday. Of course, I'm here too, so who am I to judge. Come over here, there's no reason we ought to drink alone."

And, while I'd been meaning to go home before I got too drunk, it's a kind offer and I could use the company, so I straighten my suit out as best I can and join him at the table, hoping he doesn't notice the stain at the front of my pants as I awkwardly shuffle over to join him.

As I do, he motions to the waitress for what I presume is another glass for the jug he has on the table.

She arrives with another jug.

"I'm David, by the way, Paul never technically introduced us," he tells me, pouring me a beer without bothering to ask, "he has a way of running people over, a little, in social settings."

"I'm glad to meet you, David. And trust me, I know."

I laugh, and put the beer to my lips, and it tastes amazing. The beer, the company, and just the idea that for a moment, in this moment, I can put everything I've been going through aside and allow myself to just... be...

I don't even realize I'm reaching for the nachos until they're in my mouth.

"So what's up, man? I see you in the gym as we're arriving, and I know you know Paul, but what's your deal outside of that? What's bringing you here? It's early in the day for pints, on a weekday."

"Um... honestly, I lost my job today, and was trying to... just... you know... calm down after."

"Oh, shit, dude, that sucks, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, there was a thing at a party, and I guess I'd been letting work slide, lately, and I've put on kind of a lot of weight. I guess they noticed that..."

"Bro, I know that feel. I've packed on close to seventy pounds since I started working out with Paul. It's funny, when he invited me out I was just meaning to drop a little winter weight, you know? But it's like I'm obsessed, I'm pushing weight like it's my full time job, and I'm hungry constantly, I never thought I'd be this bulky, I never was, but..."

"Yeah, I get that. I mean, minus the pushing weight." I giggle, then blush at how girlish it sounds coming out of my mouth, "A lot more than seventy here, sometimes I just can't seem to stop eating, you know? And if anything, I feel weaker than I ever have, I don't know why, I don't understand any of what's happening, and it just feels overwhelming, sometimes, like my whole life is out of my control, and I don't even understand... I don't understand why..."

My voice breaks, and David grabs my hand from across the table, his rough fingers enclosing my softer ones and squeezing, an attempt to comfort that hurts, just a little, squeezes just a bit too hard.

"Hey, buddy, I get it. Like I said, going through something similar, and no clue why, when we're working out I just go berserk, Paul's started calling me Beast, 'cuz of how hard I go, and I'm constantly hungry. Probably drinking too much, too, but whatever, right? Life is meant to be lived."

I laugh, and he paws at the now empty plate of nachos. Apparently we've finished the order without realizing.

"You wanna get another plate?"

And I know I shouldn't, I've eaten myself out of a job, I've destroyed my body and am in the process of destroying my health. I've got to seek help, professional help, but it's not like I have anywhere to be...

It can always wait 'til tomorrow.

"Yeah, you know what? Screw it, let's do it. You're almost out of beer there, too..."

He laughs, then motions to the waitress, and she hustles off to appease our ravenous appetites.

He's good company, David, or Beast, confident, and it's nice to be able to share the way my body's changed and not be judged. The beer is delicious, and the nachos go down easily and quickly, soon to be replaced by a third plate, and before long I'm slurring as I speak, just a little.

"All my body hair is gone now," I tell him, at one point, "like, all of it. A guy put a cream on me and it never grew back. I still... I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I'm not sure if I like it or not, but it's too late, now, it's already gone."

"Hah! I'll loan you some of mine, bud, it's been coming in like crazy, lately. I used to keep it trimmed, but it was growing in so fast, and Paul eventually suggested I just not bother. Which, like, easier, but doesn't help with the whole Beast thing, I look like an animal out of clothes sometimes. Can I be honest?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Kind of hot, seeing myself now. Feels powerful. Strong, and hairy as hell, and yeah, I'm getting a little fat, but it's good fat, you know? Gives me presence. Feels good to tower over people, makes me think..."

He trails off, and I realize he's waiting for me to respond to a question he hasn't asked.

"It is hot." I offer, "I mean, if that's not weird. But the bulk suits you really well. Makes you look a little intimidating, but in like a fun way. If that makes sense."

"Daaaaaw, thanks, bud." He says, "I appreciate that. I've been working hard to add mass, it's nice to be appreciated, you know? You're looking good too, for the record."

I blush, knowing damn well that I do not look good, with my stretch marked belly sagging over the waist of the unbuttoned pants of a suit that hasn't been cleaned in weeks and hasn't fit in months, my shirt stained with beer and nacho remains. I'm a mess, a sloppy pig, and I know it, and I don't know how to respond to being told otherwise.

"I'm not kidding, bro," he tells me, "the weight kind of suits you, in a weird way. I mean, I get it, it's not a normal look for a dude, but you're pulling it off. You love to eat, and it's turned you into a fat little butterball, and that suit's doing you no favors, but I'm betting you look hot as hell out of clothes."

I blush, and he does too, realizing what he's just implied, and the two of us sit there, in silence, an empty plate of nachos and two half-empty jugs of beer between us, each waiting for the other to speak first.

"I mean..." he eventually mutters, "if you're into that kind of thing. That was dumb, I'm sorry. I just... I've had problems with impulse control, lately, and Paul's been telling me a Beast like me... you know, takes what he wants, and I wanted you to know, so I just said it. You'd probably look hot as hell out of clothes, and the thought came to me, so I said it. It's no big deal..."

"No..." I'm beet red, drunk, overstuffed and squirming in my seat, "it's good. I appreciate it. Um... do you want to see for yourself? We could get a cab back to my place..."

"Hell yeah," Beast smiles, predatory, then motions for our tab, "I'll call one now. We can get some takeout and show off our bulk, what's the point of building it otherwise, yeah?"

I'm unsteady on my feet, as I stand, but the two of us manage to make it out of the bar, and as we do I realize I no longer care who sees my gut hanging out, or my pants spread taut across my fat ass, it doesn't matter, I'm a fat boy and the world deserves to see me in all my bloated glory.

In the back of the cab, Beast reaches over, grabs my shirt and pulls, sending buttons flying everywhere, my belly and tits finally free. He leans over and growls in my ear...

"I gotta warn you, Brian. I get a little rough in the bedroom. I don't always know my own strength, now, and I tend to get way too into things. This is going to hurt you, a lot."

Blushing, breathing heavily, I find it in me put my hand to his groin and reply...

"Call me pig..."

It's only weeks later that I realize I never went back for my car...