Chapter 2: midnight snack

It was late. Too late for Julie, Cameron’s long time girlfriend and best friend, to be awake. She was lying on her side, a strand of auburn hair hanging in her face, swaying gently as she breathed. Cameron was on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was craving a bowl of fruit loops, or maybe a bowl of neapolitan ice cream, but wasn’t quite sure he could shift his considerable girth to get out of bed without waking Julie. His stomach gurgled, and he bit his lip, a flush rising over his cheeks as he hoped that Julie hadn’t heard. But the strand of hair kept swaying in time with her slow, even breaths.
He slid his legs off the bed, checked Julie again for signs of consciousness, then lifted himself up. The bed sprang up when he stood, released from the pressure of a 360lb man laying on it. Cameron let out a long breath of his own, a sigh of relief. Then he shuffled hurriedly out the bedroom door to the kitchen. Some of the floorboards creaked, and whenever he stepped on a noisy one he would wince but continue, as quickly and quietly as he could, until finally, he was in the kitchen and bathed in the serene glow of the fridge light. His pupils dilated when he spotted a carton of cream on the dairy shelf, and he felt a shiver of almost erotic anticipation. He grabbed the carton, then got some fruit loops from the pantry, and filled a mixing bowl with sweet, sugary, creamy goodness. The anticipation of enjoying his midnight snack was dulled a little when Cameron realized that he had almost emptied the cream carton. He hoped, a bit guiltily, that Julie hadn’t been hoping to use it in a recipe. She loved to bake and cook, knew how to make wonderful muffins and cookies and pizza pies. She had once made pecan pie and whipped cream, real whipped cream, not the stuff from an aerosol can, for him, and Cameron had loved it so much he put himself into a food coma. The thought occurred to him that if he drove to the grocery store, he could replace the cream carton, but he was preoccupied with his cereal enough that after a few bites any thoughts of guilt or consideration for Julie were gone. They were replaced by the delicious crunch and sugar buzz of his guilty pleasure, which he was slurping down faster and faster. In what seemed like a blink the mixing bowl was empty again. Cameron groaned softly in pleasure and satisfaction, lazily reaching down to rub his now slightly distended belly. He kneaded his stomach, allowing himself to enjoy the satisfaction of that almost-too-full feeling. He heard a gurgling sound in his stomach, and frowned. He definitely wasn’t hungry anymore…
Then, suddenly, he let out a loud, long “BUUUUUUURRRRRP!” His face became red and flushed and he clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing that he was making far too much noise for Julie to stay asleep. He waited to hear her stretch and groan, get up out of bed and open the bedroom door, walk down the hallway and catch him holding all the evidence of his newly realized sugar addiction. But as the minutes ticked onward, the steps didn’t come. Cameron lowered his hand. He stood up, wincing as the floor creaked a little under his weight, although if his gas hadn’t woken Julie, she was probably dead to the world. He rinsed the bowl and spoon, dried them off, and replaced them with all the care of a cat burglar stowing away stolen jewels. Then he sneaked back to bed, cautiously cuddling up to Julie, feeling his anxiety about her catching him snacking melt away. She was warm and soft in his arms, still breathing softly, her soft brown hair tucked behind her ear. Cameron nuzzled her neck and felt his whole body relax, and within a few minutes, he was sound asleep as well. As his breaths began to slow and even out though, he wasn’t conscious enough to realize that Julie had shifted in his grip, to lay on her back and stare at him with a small, mischievous, almost devilish smile.