Matthew III (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Amara Rose.

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Matthew locked himself in his room, hurriedly changing out of Harrison’s button-down. Matthew then dug an oversized T-shirt out of his dresser and pulled on, but found himself frowning at the way it barely fit him, instead stretching tightly over his swollen belly. Matthew got out some sweatpants next, grimacing at how awkward it felt to lean down as he pulled them on. The waistband sat low on his hips, hindered by the sharp obstruction of his huge abdomen. Trying not to panic, Matthew shoved his arms into a hoodie that couldn’t hope to zip closed over him. But it added some bagginess to his arms, shoulders, and sides, which at least made the outrageous jut of his midsection a bit less…isolated.

Who was he kidding? It was obvious.

His stomach gurgled. Matthew clutched it, scrunching his face through a powerful wave of hunger. Suddenly there was a twinge of sensation that made his eyes go wide.

“Matthew!” Diane’s voice called.

His belly gurgled again. Matthew stared down at it, gulping. There was nothing for it. So he deeply inhaled then headed for the door, shuffling out of his bedroom and then down the stairs. When he got to the living room, Matthew found Harrison and Diane, his adoptive mother, immersed in a tight embrace. Something about the sight made Matthew wrinkle his nose.

“Matty?” said Diane as she peeked out from behind Harrison’s shoulder. Pulling away from her husband, she hurried over to Matthew, hugging him fiercely.

Then pausing.

She pulled back, looking as glamorous as ever even with that puzzled look in her blue eyes. Her gaze shot down to Matthew’s substantial midsection.

Matthew’s stomach chose that moment to let out a bubbly rumbling noise, his cheeks heating as he awkwardly tugged at the sides of his hoodie. “Hi mom.”

“What on earth?” Diane was mystified.

“He hasn’t been taking the expulsion well,” Harrison mentioned behind her in explanation.

Matthew grimaced at the implication.

A line formed between Diane’s brows. “Have you been drinking?” she asked Matthew, finally meeting his eyes. But then she scrutinized his body dubiously as though wondering if his inflated torso could actually be a beer belly.

Matthew started, “No, it’s just —”

“You can’t let yourself go like this!” Diane reproached. “Maybe you should talk to someone. Like a professional.”

“I’ve already made some calls,” said Harrison solemnly.

Matthew shot his stepfather a glare.

“He’s been doing better though,” Harrison went on, casual with his lies. “We had a discussion earlier. Matthew has agreed to go on a diet.”

“Oh yes,” said Matthew sarcastically. “I’m going low-carb.” Just the thought of food had his nose perking, registering the smell of hot breakfast on the stove. His belly clenched, insides twisting oddly.

“Well that’s a start, I guess,” Diane said with a frown, by which point Matthew had already made his way to the stove and started stuffing his face with slices of syrupy french toast.

“Starting tomorrow,” Matthew added, his voice muffled by strips of bacon.

Diane wrinkled her nose. She threw Harrison a disbelieving look as she mouthed something.

Matthew’s free hand shot down to tug at the bottom of his shirt, which kept sliding up, tight as it had gotten. He hated himself even as he continued to gobble down stacks of french toast, spoonfuls of eggs, and forkfuls of bacon. His stomach felt full to the brim, yet he couldn’t seem to stop. He had to consume it all. There was no other option.

Diane made a disgruntled noise, but Matthew just kept eating.

When he finished all the food on the stove, he was gripping the counter, trying to contain his groans. He turned and was relieved to see that Diane and Harrison had moved on to the living room.

Matthew spent the rest of the day largely ignoring his adoptive mother. He might have felt more guilt had she ever been particularly present or parental. When his younger siblings got home from school late in the afternoon, she was drowned in their affection, and Matthew was left to his own devices.

He frowned as he examined himself in his bedroom mirror, from his unnaturally round belly, to his chest which had gotten unusually pudgy only in the span of twelve hours or so. His mind whirled, but he still couldn’t process his transformation. He could do little more than stare at it.

In the early hours of the morning, Diane was headed off for her next excursion. Matthew hung back awkwardly as she passionately embraced Harrison, who picked her up and spun her around. Diane was decidedly more tempered as she approached Matthew with an awkward hug. “Do take care of yourself, darling,” she murmured as she kissed his cheeks. “And cut back on the drinking?”

“Bye mom.” Matthew forced a smile.

As he watched Diane walk off to the taxi waiting outside for her, Matthew found herself absently rubbing at his belly and the ongoing churning sensation that littered it. He threw a glance at Harrison, and was startled to find that his stepfather was appraising him, eyes cold and assessing.

It seemed that it was just the two of them, once more.

-

Breakfast was uncomfortable, the kids grumpy about their mother’s early departure. They bickered amongst themselves annoyingly as Harrison read the paper and Matthew tried to breathe.

He scrunched his nose at the latest gurgle, which was quickly followed by a fluttering, then a lurch. He sat up slightly in his chair, his eyes wide. Again he wondered if what Harrison had said was true. Could he actually be pregnant somehow, despite being male? His palms absently rubbed his swell, which unnervingly, seemed even bigger than it had been the night before.

Matthew slumped a little and resumed eating, unable to resist stuffing his face, as usual. He was warm and dizzy as he scarfed down his third serving of biscuits with gravy. His abdomen felt as though it was pulsing as he clutched it with his free hand under the table.

God, he swore he looked as though he was eight months pregnant, his skin prickling as though it was inflating by the moment. Matthew breathed deeply, trying to gather his composure. He wiped some sweat off his forehead as his eyes found Harrison’s across the table, and suddenly Matthew was consumed by an entirely different type of hunger.

He heard the roar of the school bus pulling up to the curb.

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