Chapter 1 - An unusual fitting

Quintus slowed his pace walking along the barracks of the castrum. The cohort, Gaius, Bran and himself had been assigned to had arrived here after three full days of riding late yesterday.
Nevertheless, Flavia’s brother seemed to know exactly how austere his position was; therefore, they had continued the training right after they presented themselves to the Legate this morning.
Now, it was late afternoon. Gaius had collapsed on his small bed in the guest quarters and Quintus himself was overdue to see Bran for a refit of his armor.
Since he departed Rome and his lovely wife to be, Quintus had tried to expel any thought of the bold craftsman with the red hair and the eyes bluer than the sea. Suffice to mention without success. Naturally, his mind had equally wandered to Flavia. How she had given him a determined look when she announced, she was his and would wait for his return, even if she would be grey and old by then. Quintus heart almost burst with his love for her.
But memories could be treacherous things sometimes, and though he had forbidden it to himself, pictures emerged before his inner eye of how he had pushed Flavia further and further until ... he felt his pulse quicken. But there were also small glimpses of his fantasy about Bran and Flavia. Quintus felt a strange weakness in his stomach and a rush of blood to his groin. This had to stop. He took a moment to compose himself and when nothing seemed to help, he took his pugio and inflicted a little cut on his arm just above the wrist. He inhaled sharply, but the pain cut out any other physical sensation and thereby did the trick.
Minutes later, he stepped into a medium sized warehouse a little distant to the rest of the buildings in the castrum. It consisted of just one spacious room with several work benches standing against its whitewashed walls. It must have been almost dinner time as the room was deserted except for Brans familiar lean silhouette. Only now, Quintus realized just how much he had longed to see the other man again.
»Are you going to just stand there like a statue, or shall we get to it, before no food is left for us?« Quintus couldn’t else but smile and Bran send him a flashing grin in return. The other man averted his eyes almost coyly. »I didn’t see much of you lately.« With that, he indicated for him to mount a small pedestal while pulling a frame in Quintus direction, holding a beautiful armor of delicately woven metal discs, each the size of his thumbnail at max.
Quintus marveled at the craftsmanship. »This is amazing. A piece of art.« He meant to notice two pink spots on the other man’s cheeks at his appraisal, but couldn’t be sure as dusk was setting. Only at second glance, he realized how huge the cuirass looked. But then, there was no denying in how much he had gained during the last few months. With a heavy sigh, he mounted the pedestal.
»That sounded serious. Worries? I mean apart from traveling right back to the land of the Barbarians, where every day brings the risk of imminent death and far worse fates?« Bran helped him into the cuirass.
To his surprise, it did fit quite lose.
»You lost weight.« Bran didn’t seem very happy about the fact.
For some reason, Quintus had the feeling it was not only about the craftsmen potentially having to alter the cuirass. »I am not stuffing myself to the brim at every opportunity presenting itself.« There was almost a little pride audible in his voice.
Bran looked at him unconvinced. »Did you eat today?«
Quintus shook his head with a little pang of frustration. Of course, he only had a light breakfast and nothing since. The craftsman padded his shoulder, thereby closing the distance between them further, until Quintus felt Bran’s breath on his cheek. Heat surged through him and he had to concentrate intently on not losing his balance on the pedestal. »I can’t do the fitting this way. We have to somehow inflate you to your normal size.«
Quintus caught his breath and looked down to Bran. There was a cocky smile on the other man’s lips and something dark lurking in the deep blue of his eyes. »What?«
»If I fit it now, it will likely be too small for you to move in it naturally. I don’t want you to die out there. Therefore, we have to somehow swell you.« Bran spoke his mind with no shame at all. Now, he even padded Quintus still protruding gut to make sure, there was no misunderstanding what he meant by his bold remark. »I told you the first time. Nothing wrong for a guy to be of stately size.«
Quintus felt his cheeks burn. »You can’t mean that. Shouldn’t you encourage me to lose weight. Aren’t you disgusted by my obvious lack of discipline and its heavy consequences?« He had whispered the words, unbelieving that they left his lips at all. At the same time, he had trouble holding himself back from thrusting the other man’s hands firmer to his flab.
»What have you been doing, right before you came here?«
Quintus tried to get a hold on himself. »I trained with Gaius. Hate to say it, but the boy is still in worse shape than I am.«
Bran cleared his throat, his hands still stroking the dome of Quintus belly. »And you are here, because his father forced you to, right?«
Unable to even shake his head, Quintus replied: »I offered. I mean, Gaius deserves a fighting chance. I can’t let him run into his doom.«
»You are extraordinary. Brave. Gracious. Smart and so damn hot with this little extra padding.« Bran seemed to realize how outspoken he had been. »Look, I know about Flavia and how dearly you hold her. I try not to transgress, though I can’t make any promises«, the other man looked at him and this time there was no way to mistake the craving in Brans eyes, »then again, you look quite strong with a will of your own. So, if anything happens between the two of us that you disapprove of, just push me away.«
Both their breaths came strenuously now. Quintus managed a nod which caused Bran to poke his index finger into the now soft flab of his belly. Then, the other man went outside, only to return a few moments later with two heavy amphorae. One in each hand. With a husky voice, Bran issued: »keep standing, but step down from the pedestal. We don’t want you to fall and sprain your ankle or anything.«
Quintus did as he was told. Immediately, Bran put the mouthpiece of the first amphora to his lips and indicated for him to drink. »What is in there?« With a sly smile, the other man shook his head. Quintus sighed and started to gulp. The liquid running down his throat was creamy and sugary. Not that bad at all. He swallowed more and felt how it was filling him up quickly.
While the amphora in his hands got lighter, his belly became heavier and heavier with every sip. Soon, he slowed down, but every time, he wanted to drop the vessel to make a break, Bran shoved it up again. After what felt like an eternity, the last drop of the liquid coated his lips and he was finally allowed to put the amphora down. He staggered a little from the exertion and Bran hurried to support him. »Careful handsome. Look at you and how great you did.« With that, he put his hands on Quintus belly.
Quintus looked down at himself, amazed at how aroused he was by presenting his fullness to Bran. »You like it, don’t you?«
»Damn right I do. But you are not done yet, handsome. Not by a long shot.«
Quintus looked at the craftsman pleadingly. »Please. I almost can’t hold myself upright.« With his words, he pressed his swollen gut out even more, noticing how the tightly woven metal plates were fitting a lot better now. His head was giddy and Quintus almost didn’t know what he wanted more, Bran’s mercy or being forced into obedience by the other man.
Brans smile broadened. »Now now ...«