Max & Roy Vol. 2 - Part 3: Media Attention (Patreon)

MAX

JONATHAN: If you could just raise both arms for me for a moment, please, sir.

MAX: Oop, like this?

JONATHAN: That’s perfect, thank you.

MAX: You’ll be needing a new tape measure soon, huh, Jonathan? Must be running out of space on that one.

JONATHAN: This is the new tape measure, sir. I just need your arms up for a moment longer, if I may.

MAX: Oh, sure. Sorry.

(I know I need to slow down on the old gains for a minute. I know what Jonathan’s gonna tell me. It’s just... so impossible to resist when Roy feeds me. It’s like a pure, raw pleasure I never knew I needed til I met him. I mean, I’m practically the size of a house these days. Never thought I’d be this big! But the way Roy sinks his thick powerlifter fingers into my fat, rubs ‘em all up and down my belly... when he grips those huge mounds of blubber under my arms... goddamn I never want it to end. He just does something to me. And he makes me FEEL so sexy too. I love the feeling of being this huge, taking up so much space, eating whatever I want, whatever ROY wants...)

MAX: How’s the ol’ chest lookin?

JONATHAN: 145 inches, sir.

(Holy mackerel!)

MAX: It’s a whopper alright, hoo boy, haha. And the belly?

JONATHAN: 177 inches, sir. Almost 10 inches up on your last visit.

(Damn!)

MAX: Good grief, Charlie Brown! Haha. I, uh, I’m guessing the wedding suit probably doesn’t have too much give left in it, huh?

(I should have been more conscientious of that. My own damned fault)

JONATHAN: I’m afraid that is correct, Mr Morgan, sir. The suit, uh, cannot be taken out any further, and there’s too little time to prepare a new one before the ceremony date...

MAX: Say no more, say no more. Message received loud and clear - I won’t get any bigger until after the wedding. Consider the pause button pressed on filling up my piehole for the next couple of weeks. Scout’s honor.

JONATHAN: Many thanks, sir. I’m sorry it has to be mentioned at all. I know how much you love your food.

MAX: Don’t mention it, my friend. And I’ll see you there, right? You got the invite?

JONATHAN: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

(LATER)

MAX: Hi honey, I’m home! God, I love saying that, hehe.

ROY (on phone): Uh huh, yep, sure... Give me one sec, sorry - Hey, sweetheart, sorry I got a client on the phone, I’ll just be a minute, there’s pizza on the counter - I’m sorry, go ahead. I can do after the 17th as I’ll be back from my honeymoon then... yep...

SEB: Max, I ordered you the extra large barbecue chicken with that crust you like.

MAX: You, good sir, are a mind-reader. I’m starving!

(Takes a LOT to keep the ol’ tank full these days)

SEB: Roy figured you would be, so I got the order in sharp. Oh, and Ezra’s gone out for the evening, meeting some friend or something, I don’t know - teenagers.

(An evening’s peace from that boy, halle-fucking-lujah. I know Roy’ll appreciate it. He’s so stressed out recently. He went kinda quiet at the rehearsal dinner. I know the big guy’s got a lot on his mind right now. I’m guessing the wedding plus starting his business is kinda a lot all at once. I wish he’d let me help more. But it means a lot to him to make it on his own. I can respect that, having been there myself once. God fucking damn, do I love that man)

ROY: ... Perfect, yep... We can shoot here in the studio or we’ve actually got some outdoor space... Uh huh... Yeah, there’s a woods right behind our house if you wanted to go more outdoorsy for your pregnancy shoot. We got deer and everything... That’s right, haha...

(THAT NIGHT)

(He’s still out there, taking calls, tapping away at emails. I don’t know how he does it. He’s working so hard. Should I say something? Ask him to come to bed?

Ah, that’s selfish. Leave him be, Max. I can always fix myself a midnight snack if I want it. Not EVERY meal needs to be hand-fed to me by my beautiful big man)

ROY: Hey gorgeous, sorry I’m so late to bed. I am SO tired.

MAX: You’re gonna run yourself ragged at this pace.

ROY: I know. That’s the last client I can fit in for this quarter. I guess I’ll have to set up some kind of waiting list system for the rest... maybe an automated thing… Oof, that’s tomorrow’s problem.

MAX: You want me to give you a back rub? Or I could run you a bath?

(I love kneeding my pudgy hands into his back. It’s like a giant wall of pure muscle...)

ROY: I’m good sweetheart, I just... Oh shit, I didn’t make your midnight snack. I totally forgot, I’m sorry, lemme just-

MAX: You keep your perfect booty parked right there, Mister. You need sleep is what you need.

ROY (yawning): Ughh, maybe.

MAX: Besides, I’m under orders from Jonathan not to go expanding the ol’ waistline any more til after we say ‘I do’. Else I’m not gonna fit into my wedding suit.

ROY: Hmmph, well that sucks. Makes sense though, I guess.

MAX: I know, big guy. We can make up for it on the honeymoon, I promise.

(When he takes my hand in his, it’s like being held by a bear paw. I love when he kisses my fat fingers)

MAX: Oh, I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier since you were busy and all, but a woman from the Tribune called. They wanna interview us. They’re doing a little piece about the wedding. They might take some pictures too.

ROY:... Oh.

(He’s frozen)

ROY: Uh... why? Did they say why? Why do they want to do that?

(Huh. I didn’t expect this kinda response, honestly)

MAX: Uh, well... I guess cos they think ‘The Owner Of MorganCorp Getting Married Again’ is newsworthy. It’s probably gonna be some dumb puff piece.

(He’s literally frozen solid. Was this too much? Is it stress?)

ROY: Our wedding’s getting... media attention.

MAX: A little. Only cos I’m the big fat honcho of the company, I guess. I know it’s kinda stupid.

ROY: Well... okay, uh... You know, you go ahead and do it, sweetheart. You talk to her. I don’t wanna - I got so much to do.

MAX: Okay. Or I can just tell her No? If you want? I didn’t know this would be - I feel like I’ve said something bad...

ROY: No, you haven’t, I’m sorry. I’m just tired is all. It was... a surprise. But actually, yeah, do you mind if we say No? I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for this.

(He’s WAY more stressed out than I thought. I didn’t think this would be a big deal. It’s clearly too much though. The poor guy doesn’t need any extra commitments to worry about right now. I shouldn’t have said anything)

MAX: Of course, handsome. I’ll just tell her ‘Thanks but no thanks’.

Are you okay, though?

ROY: Hmm? I’m fine. I just - I’m fine. I guess I got so much going on. I need to learn my speech for the dinner. I was terrible at the rehearsal.

(Admittedly he did forget half of it)

MAX: Is there anything I can do? You need Big Ol’ Mr Morgan to step in?

ROY: Mmmh, I love that, heh. But I’m good, sexy. Honestly. I didn’t mean to be all weird. It’s just, you know, starting up a new business and all. Tons to think about.

Anyway, soon you’ll be Big Ol’ Mr Morgan-Baker.

MAX: Oh, I know. I can’t fucking wait.

ROY: Me neither. Kiss me, handsome.

MAX: Anytime, any place. You’re the boss...