rick1ty - Tumblr blog

rick1ty · 2 months

Text

four times kaito refuses yuki’s offer to eat and one time he finally gives in

this scenario centers around the charged, complex relationship between my other ocs: Yuki Nakamura, a charismatic and skilled lead mechanic, and Kaito Kirishima, an aloof and talented Formula One driver, set against the high-stakes world of racing in Tokyo. as Yuki becomes increasingly concerned with Kaito's tendency to neglect his own well-being, particularly his eating habits, their usual bickering evolves into a deeper, more intimate connection, forcing both men to confront their growing feelings and the vulnerabilities they've long kept hidden.

basically, it’s just that driver/mechanic dynamic I love so much 😭😭 especially when the driver is unapproachable, arrogant and self neglecting dumbass workaholic who puts his work before himself and requires someone to take care of him.

[stomach growling, teasing, I would say more caretaking than teasing]

The rhythmic clanking of tools against metal filled the garage as Yuki lay on his back beneath Kaito's car, tinkering with the undercarriage. The smell of oil and rubber clung to the air, a scent as familiar to him as his own skin.

A pair of impeccably polished shoes appeared in his peripheral vision. Yuki rolled his eyes. Only one person on the team wore shoes that pristine in the garage.

"Oi, Kirishima," he called out, not bothering to slide out from under the car. "Come to micromanage my work again?"

"Merely ensuring you're not about to sabotage my vehicle, Nakamura," Kaito's cool voice replied. "One can never be too careful."

Yuki snorted, tightening a bolt with perhaps more force than necessary. "Right, because I'd risk my job just to mess with your precious ego. Get over yourself."

He was about to launch into another barb when a loud, unmistakable growl cut through the air. Yuki paused, wrench halfway to the next bolt. Was that...?

Sliding out from under the car, Yuki propped himself up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow at Kaito. The driver stood there, arms crossed, a slight pink tinge to his usually pale cheeks.

"Was that your stomach, Kirishima?" Yuki asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Sounds like you've got a wild animal trapped in there."

Kaito's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "Don't be ridiculous. It was probably one of your subpar tools malfunctioning."

As if on cue, another rumble emanated from Kaito's midsection. Yuki's smirk bloomed into a full-fledged grin.

"Hate to break it to you, but my tools don't sound like that," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "When's the last time you ate something?"

"I fail to see how that's any of your concern," Kaito snapped, taking a step back as Yuki approached.

Yuki shook his head, wiping his hands on a rag. "It is when you're piloting a multi-million dollar machine at breakneck speeds. You need fuel, same as the car."

"I'm perfectly capable of managing my own needs," Kaito retorted, but Yuki noticed the way his hand unconsciously moved to his stomach, slender fingers pressing against the empty spot.

"Sure you are," Yuki drawled. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an energy bar. "Here. It's not gourmet, but it'll keep you from passing out on the track."

Kaito eyed the bar like it might bite him. "I don't need your charity, Nakamura."

"It's not charity, it's common sense," Yuki countered, holding the bar out. "Come on, your highness. I promise it won't kill you."

For a moment, it seemed like Kaito might actually take it. His fingers twitched at his side, and Yuki saw a flicker of something – maybe hunger, maybe gratitude – in those obsidian eyes. But then the mask slammed back into place.

"I have a strict dietary regimen," Kaito said stiffly. "I don't put just anything into my body."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Yuki standing there with the energy bar still in his outstretched hand.

"Stubborn idiot," Yuki muttered, shaking his head. He tossed the bar onto his toolbox and slid back under the car. But as he resumed his work, he couldn't shake the image of Kaito's flushed cheeks and the brief vulnerability he'd glimpsed.

Next time, he thought, he'd have to try harder. After all, keeping the car in top shape was pointless if the driver was running on empty.

The pit lane buzzed with pre-qualifying tension, a symphony of revving engines and shouted instructions. Yuki crouched by Kaito's car, making last-minute adjustments, his practiced hands moving with swift precision.

Kaito approached, already suited up, his helmet tucked under one arm. Yuki glanced up, noting the tightness around Kaito's eyes, the slight pallor beneath his usual composure.

"Car's ready," Yuki said, straightening up. "She'll purr for you out there."

Kaito nodded curtly, but as he moved to step past Yuki, a loud, hollow gurgle emanated from his midsection. It was a drawn-out sound, almost like a whine, audible even over the ambient noise.

Yuki's eyebrows shot up. "Damn, Kirishima. Again? Sounds like a whole black hole has formed in your stomach."

A faint blush colored Kaito's cheeks, but his voice remained clipped. "It's nothing. Focus on your job, Nakamura."

"My job includes making sure the driver doesn't faint at the wheel," Yuki retorted, stepping closer. He lowered his voice, surprisingly gentle. "Come on, Kaito. You need to eat something before you get in that car."

Kaito's eyes widened slightly at the use of his first name. For a moment, the mask slipped, revealing a flicker of uncertainty.

Another growl broke the silence between them, this one a long, rolling rumble that seemed to echo in Kaito's lean frame. Yuki could swear he saw Kaito's firesuit move with the force of it.

"Here," Yuki said, fishing another protein bar he had prepared earlier from his pocket. Artificially flavoured protein bar, with an image of pancakes on a wrapper. “I got this specially. High-performance stuff, designed for athletes. It won't mess with your precious regimen."

Kaito's gaze flicked between the bar and Yuki's face, something unreadable in his expression. When his gaze lingered on that appetising pancakes image, he gulped, his stomach responding with an impatient gurgle. His fingers twitched, and for a second, Yuki thought he might actually take it.

But then Kaito's jaw set, his eyes hardening. "I appreciate the thought, Nakamura, but I'm fine. Save your concern for the car."

He brushed past Yuki, their shoulders touching briefly. Yuki caught a whiff of Kaito's cologne mixed with a hint of sweat and gun oil

"Kaito," Yuki called after him, frustration and something else – worry? – coloring his tone.

Kaito paused, half-turning. For a breath, their eyes met, and Yuki saw the conflict there, the pride warring with need. Then Kaito broke the gaze, slipping his helmet on.

"I'll eat after qualifying," he said, voice muffled. "I promise."

Before Yuki could respond, Kaito was climbing into the car, effectively ending the conversation.

Yuki stood there, protein bar still in hand, watching as the car roared to life. He shook his head, pocketing the bar again.

"Stubborn, stupid idiot," he muttered, repeating, but there was no real heat in it. Instead, a mix of exasperation and grudging admiration colored his tone. As he moved to join the rest of the crew, Yuki found himself already planning his next attempt. He was nothing if not persistent, and for reasons he wasn't quite ready to examine, getting Kaito to take care of himself had become oddly important to him.

The soft glow of evening settled over the empty garage. Most of the crew had long since departed, leaving behind the lingering scent of motor oil and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Yuki hunched over his workbench, poring over telemetry data from the day's practice session.

The sound of footsteps made him look up. Kaito stood in the doorway, his usual immaculate suit replaced by a simple black t-shirt and fitted jeans. The casual attire made him look younger, more approachable.

"Kirishima," Yuki acknowledged, surprise coloring his tone. "Didn't expect to see you here this late."

Kaito shrugged, a surprisingly casual gesture for him. "I wanted to review the data before tomorrow."

As Kaito moved closer, Yuki couldn't help but notice how the t-shirt clung to his lean frame. He swallowed hard, forcing his gaze back to the papers.

"Well, pull up a chair," Yuki offered, gesturing to the stool beside him. "Though I warn you, I'm lousy company when I'm working."

A ghost of a smile touched Kaito's lips. "I've endured worse."

They worked in companionable silence for a while, shoulders occasionally brushing as they leaned over the same charts. Yuki found himself hyperaware of every point of contact, the warmth of Kaito's skin seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Suddenly, a familiar sound broke the quiet. Kaito's stomach let out a long, plaintive growl, the kind that seemed to echo in the empty garage.

Yuki glanced at Kaito, noting the faint blush creeping up his neck. "Skipped dinner again?"

Kaito's jaw tightened, but there was less hostility in his eyes than before. "I got caught up in reviewing race footage. It's not important."

Without thinking, Yuki reached out, his hand settling gently on Kaito's flat stomach. The touch was soft, almost protective. "You've got to take better care of yourself, Kaito."

The moment the words left his mouth, Yuki realized what he'd done. He expected Kaito to jerk away, to snap at him. But to his surprise, Kaito remained still, his eyes wide with an unspoken emotion.

Kaito's face flushed deeper, but he didn't move away from Yuki's touch. Instead, he cleared his throat, his voice slightly strained. "We should focus on the data, Nakamura. The car's performance is more critical than my eating habits."

Yuki's hand remained on Kaito's stomach, feeling the subtle tension in the muscles beneath his palm. "The car won't perform if the driver's running on empty," he countered softly.

Their eyes met, and Yuki felt a jolt of electricity run through him. There was something new in Kaito's gaze, a vulnerability that made Yuki's heart race.

Another growl from Kaito's stomach vibrated against Yuki's hand, breaking the tension. Yuki couldn't help but chuckle, the sound warm and genuine.

Kaito's blush intensified, but a hint of his usual smirk returned. "If your hands wander like that when you work on my car, we're going to have problems, Nakamura," he said, his tone a mix of embarrassment and attempted nonchalance.

Yuki, realizing his hand was still on Kaito's stomach, reluctantly withdrew it. "Just making sure our star driver doesn't waste away," he retorted, but there was no bite to it.

"Your concern is noted," Kaito said, his voice softer than usual. He turned back to the data sheets, but Yuki noticed the slight tremor in his hands. "Now, about these lap times..."

As they refocused on work, Yuki found himself hyper-aware of Kaito's proximity, the lingering warmth on his palm, and the shift in the air between them. The usual prickly tension had softened into something else, something warm and full of potential.

And though they didn't speak of it, both men knew that something had fundamentally changed in their dynamic, leaving them teetering on the edge of uncharted territory.

The sleek conference room buzzed with anticipation, reporters jostling for position as cameras flashed. Kaito Kirishima sat at the center of the long table, the picture of cool composure in his tailored charcoal suit. But Yuki, standing off to the side with the rest of the team, noticed the slight tension in Kaito's jaw, the way his fingers drummed almost imperceptibly against the tabletop. Stubborn Kaito refused to delay press conference, deciding to attend it during his usual lunch hour. Smart move as always, Yuki thought with an exasperation.

As the team's PR manager introduced Kaito and outlined the purpose of the conference, Yuki's eyes remained fixed on Kaito. He watched as Kaito took a sip of water, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

The first few questions went smoothly, Kaito answering with his trademark poise and carefully measured responses. But as the conference wore on, Yuki noticed Kaito's replies becoming slightly clipped, his pauses between words growing longer.

Then, during a brief lull as a reporter fumbled with their microphone, it happened. A low, gurgling rumble emanated from Kaito's direction, audible even over the ambient noise of the room. Kaito's eyes widened fractionally, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

Yuki bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He caught Kaito's eye for a brief moment, raising an eyebrow in a silent "I told you so."

Kaito's gaze hardened, but Yuki could see the flicker of embarrassment beneath the stern exterior. He watched as Kaito subtly pressed a hand to his midsection, as if willing it into silence.

"Mr. Kirishima," a reporter called out, "can you elaborate on the team's tire strategy for the upcoming race?"

Kaito leaned forward to answer, but his voice was cut off by another, louder growl from his stomach. This time, there was no mistaking the source. A few titters of laughter rippled through the crowd of journalists.

"Apologies," Kaito said smoothly, though Yuki could hear the strain in his voice. "As I was saying, our tire strategy—"

But his stomach wasn't done yet. A long, plaintive whine echoed through the room, causing several reporters to chuckle outright.

Kaito's composure finally cracked, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. "I apologize," he said, his voice tight. "It seems the rigors of our training schedule have left me... somewhat peckish."

As the PR manager quickly wrapped up the conference, promising further questions could be addressed via email, Yuki watched Kaito practically bolt from his seat. He followed, catching up to Kaito in the hallway outside.

"Not a word, Nakamura," Kaito growled, his face still flushed.

Yuki held up his hands in mock surrender, but couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "I have to say, your stomach has quite the talent for public speaking."

Kaito's glare could have melted steel, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—embarrassment, certainly, but also a flicker of the same vulnerability Yuki had glimpsed before.

"Look," Yuki said, his tone softening. "Let's grab something to eat. You must be starving after that performance."

Kaito's stomach chose that moment to let out another disgruntled rumble, but Kaito straightened his shoulders, his mask of indifference sliding back into place. "I appreciate your concern, Nakamura, but I have a meeting with sponsors in ten minutes. I don't have time for lunch."

Yuki frowned, seeing through the obvious lie. "Kaito, come on. You can't fool me. Your stomach's practically screaming right now."

"I assure you, I'm fine," Kaito insisted, his tone clipped. "I'm not hungry. The... noises were merely a result of indigestion. Nothing more."

Yuki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue, but Kaito cut him off. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to."

With that, Kaito turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Yuki standing there, exasperated and concerned in equal measure.

Yuki shook his head but he couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at his lips.

As he watched Kaito's retreating back, Yuki found himself already planning his next attempt. He was nothing if not persistent, and for reasons he wasn't quite ready to examine, getting Kaito to take care of himself had become oddly important to him.

The tension in the private garage was palpable. It was the night before the championship's final race, and Kaito had insisted on a last-minute adjustment session. The rest of the team had long since departed, leaving only Kaito and Yuki burning the midnight oil.

Yuki wiped sweat from his brow, emerging from beneath the car. "Alright, that should do it. Want to take her for a quick—"

His words were cut off by an almighty rumble that echoed through the empty garage. It was a long, gurgling growl that seemed to go on forever, loud enough to make Yuki jump.

Kaito stood frozen by the car, his face a mask of mortification. In the harsh fluorescent light, Yuki could see the driver's cheeks burning red.

"Damn, Kirishima," Yuki said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. "Are you being serious right now? I thought we had an earthquake for a second there."

Kaito's jaw clenched, but before he could retort, his stomach let out another aggressive growl, even louder than the first. This time, Yuki saw Kaito wince, his hand instinctively moving to his midsection.

"When's the last time you ate?" Yuki asked, his tone shifting from teasing to concerned, once he saw Kaito’s reaction.

Kaito looked away, his voice barely audible. "...Yesterday morning."

"Yesterday mor—" Yuki cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Kaito, for fuck's sake. You can't drive like this."

"I'm fine," Kaito insisted, but his stomach chose that moment to let out a sound that was almost a whine, undermining his words.

Yuki stepped closer, his eyes searching Kaito's face. He could see the exhaustion there, the slight tremor in Kaito's usually steady hands. Without thinking, he reached out, placing a gentle hand on Kaito's stomach. He felt it contract under his touch, another growl rumbling through.

"You're not fine," Yuki said softly. "You're running on empty, and if you try to race like this tomorrow, you're going to crash."

For once, Kaito didn't pull away from Yuki's touch. He stood there, tension radiating from every muscle, his eyes meeting Yuki's with a mix of defiance and something that looked almost like fear.

"I can't afford distractions," Kaito said, his voice hoarse. "Not now. Not with everything riding on tomorrow."

Yuki's hand remained on Kaito's stomach, feeling every rumble and gurgle. "And you think passing out from hunger in the middle of the race isn't a distraction?"

Kaito's resolve visibly crumbled. His shoulders sagged, and he leaned ever so slightly into Yuki's touch. "I... I don't know what to do," he admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Yuki's heart clenched at the vulnerability in Kaito's voice. "Let me help," he said gently. "There's a 24-hour diner just down the street. Good food, quiet booths. We can go over race strategy while we eat."

For a long moment, Kaito was silent. Then, just as Yuki was about to withdraw his hand, Kaito nodded. "Okay," he said softly.

Yuki blinked, surprised by the easy acquiescence. "Okay?"

A ghost of Kaito's usual smirk appeared. "Don't make me say it again, Nakamura."

Yuki chuckled, finally dropping his hand from Kaito's stomach. "Wouldn't dream of it. Come on, let's get some food in you before you pass out, you dumbass."

As they walked out of the garage together, Yuki couldn't help but feel like something fundamental had shifted between them. The usual barriers had come down, if only for a moment, and he found himself looking forward to more than just the meal ahead.

Kaito's stomach groaned again as they stepped into the cool night air, and this time, Kaito actually laughed sheepishly —a short, surprised sound that made Yuki's heart skip a beat.

"You know," Kaito said, glancing at Yuki with an uncharacteristically soft expression, "I suppose there are worse things than having a meal with you."

Yuki grinned, bumping his shoulder against Kaito's. "High praise indeed, Kirishima. I'm touched."

As they made their way to the diner, Yuki realized that for the first time, he was genuinely looking forward to spending time with Kaito off the track. And judging by the small smile playing on Kaito's lips, he wasn't the only one.

extra

The diner's warm lighting cast a soft glow over the worn leather booth where Kaito and Yuki sat across from each other. The aroma of sizzling burgers and fresh coffee permeated the air, and Kaito's stomach responded with a series of impatient gurgles.

Yuki noticed Kaito's eyes following a plate of steaming food as a waitress carried it past their table. "Hungry?" he asked, not trying to hide teasing in his voice.

Kaito's cheeks tinged pink, but he didn't deny it. "The smell is... rather enticing," he admitted, his usual composure slipping as another growl emanated from his midsection.

Yuki's expression softened. "Hey," he said gently, "it's okay to be human, you know. Even the great Kaito Kirishima needs to eat sometimes."

Kaito's gaze met Yuki's, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude in his eyes. "I suppose you're right," he murmured.

As they waited for their order, Yuki noticed Kaito shifting uncomfortably, one hand pressed against his stomach. Without thinking, he reached under the table, his hand finding Kaito's abdomen.

"May I?" Yuki asked softly, his fingers hovering just above Kaito's shirt.

Kaito hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "If you must," he said, but there was no bite to his words.

Gently, Yuki began to rub small circles on Kaito's stomach, feeling the taught muscles beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He could feel the rumbles and gurgles under his palm, Kaito's hungry stomach protesting its emptiness.

"This okay?" Yuki asked, his voice low.

Kaito's eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment. "It's... not unpleasant," he admitted, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

They sat in comfortable silence, Yuki's hand continuing its soothing motions. He marveled at how natural it felt, this moment of intimacy with someone he'd considered a rival not too long ago.

"You know," Kaito said after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can't remember the last time someone took care of me like this."

Yuki's heart clenched at the vulnerability in Kaito's tone. "Well," he replied, matching Kaito's soft volume, "maybe it's time you let someone start."

Their eyes met across the table, an unspoken understanding passing between them. The moment was broken by the arrival of their food, but as Yuki reluctantly withdrew his hand, he knew something had fundamentally changed between them.

As they dug into their meals, the conversation flowed more easily than ever before. And if their feet happened to touch under the table, neither of them mentioned it, both secretly savoring this new, tentative closeness.

#hunger fic #hunger kink #stomach growling #belly kink #kaitoxyuki

27 notes · View notes

rick1ty · 3 months

Text

so, here’s the first piece including my ocs and a oneshot I have with them 🥺both characters are older than 18.

miles x neil

18+ a soft cuddling session in the morning with one hungry tummy and lots of teasing. there is no explicit content, but it might be suggestive.

[stomach growling, tummy rubs, teasing, skipped meals, couple dynamic]

Pale morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing the small bedroom in a soft glow. Neil blinked his eyes open slowly, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings before the previous night's events came back to him. Right - Miles' apartment, the chaos of circuit boards and laptop innards that usually overwhelmed every flat surface subjugated for once to make room for Neil to spend the night.

He turned his head to find Miles still slumbering peacefully beside him, mouth hanging open slightly and unruly blonde hair splayed across the pillow. Neil couldn't help but smile fondly at his boyfriend's dorkily adorable bedhead. He reached out to gently brush a stray lock off Miles' forehead, fingertips grazing his warm skin.

Miles mumbled something unintelligible and started to stir, blinking rapidly as consciousness returned. "Nn...Neil?" he asked groggily, squinting in the bright light.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Neil murmured, sliding an arm around Miles' narrow waist and pulling him in close. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Miles' disheveled head.

Miles melted into the embrace, jumbled thoughts of quantum chromodynamics theorems slowly giving way to an appreciation for this simple intimacy. He nuzzled his face against the comforting warmth of Neil's bare chest, inhaling the faint, familiar scent of sandalwood and cypress.

"What timezsit?" he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He could feel Neil's toned body rise and fall with each relaxed breath.

Neil craned his neck to squint at the harsh red numbers on the digital clock. "Nearly 11. No hurry though, we've got all day."

"Mmm, good..." Miles trailed off, letting his eyes drift closed again as he soaked in the lazy morning perfection of lying tucked against Neil's side, their bare legs intertwined atop the rumpled sheets.

Neil smiled and dropped a kiss on the tip of Miles' upturned nose, eliciting a faint grin from the sleepy bundle in his arms. He gave Miles' back a gentle rub, tracing idle patterns across his warm skin as they enjoyed a few precious weekend hours together before the outside world could intrude.

No matter how much of a disaster their living space was, these quiet moments made it feel like home.

“Mhm… I can feel something.” Miles suddenly murmured sleepily, hands stilling against Neil’s bare belly. “Definitely. That’s your stomach rumbling and waking up already. But! We’re not getting up yet though.” He huffed.

Neil felt a bit of self consciousness creeping up his neck. It was always Miles who made Neil flustered in moments like this. Only Miles could.

He let out an embarrassed chuckle, pulling Miles a little tighter against him: “Busted. I guess I worked up quite an appetite last night," he murmured, trying his best to regain his usual unflappable cool. But it was like Miles had a special power to see through all of Neil's carefully cultivated nonchalance, breaking down his walls without even trying.

Miles let out a soft, sleepy giggle, lips quirking up in that lopsided grin Neil found so endearing. "That's my fault for wearing you out," he replied impishly, blue eyes sparkling with uncharacteristic mischief as he tilted his face up toward Neil's.

Yep, there went the last of Neil's composure. He could feel the flush spreading across his cheeks, warmth blooming in his core at Miles' rare suggestive tone. His boyfriend was normally all tangled up in his own head, stumbling over words and thoughts. But every once in a while Miles would catch Neil completely off-guard like this, seemingly unaware of the effect he could have.

Neil cleared his throat, struggling to regain his barings as Miles gazed up at him with those big innocent eyes. "Well then, I guess you'd better make it up to me and fix me a proper brunch, Mr. Scientist," he managed in his best attempt at a roguish drawl, praying his voice didn't betray how flustered he suddenly felt.

“Yeah, you’re right, you really need some food in you. When did you eat your dinner though? How many hours has it been…?” Miles murmured softly, pressing his hand deep into Neil’s upper belly, in the spot where his stomach grumbled.

Neil shivered at the feeling of Miles' slender fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his pliant belly, right where the intermittent rumbles were emanating from. He felt suddenly self-conscious about his empty, noisy stomach, the intimacy of Miles' exploratory touch making heat prickle up the back of Neil's neck.

"Uhh...I grabbed a sandwich around 6 last night before heading to the computer lab," Neil replied, trying to keep his tone casual despite the fluttering sensation Miles' prodding caused low in his abdomen. "So it's been...damn, like 17 hours since I've eaten?"

He shook his head ruefully. It wasn't unusual for Neil to get so hyper-focused on coding that he forgot to take care of basic needs like food. But he felt oddly vulnerable with Miles's attention zeroed in on the audible evidence of his empty stomach.

Miles frowned up at him, all sleepy contentment replaced by a furrowed brow. "Neily...you know that's not good for you," he chided in that gentle yet firm way only he could pull off. "Your poor tum must be absolutely ravaged."

And there was that blush creeping back into Neil's cheeks, hot and traitorous. He wasn't sure if it was Miles's adorable use of the childish term "tum," or the way his boyfriend's hand smoothed back and forth over Neil's belly with tender concern. But he felt oddly exposed, like Miles could simply touch and suddenly understand the emptiness gnawing at him.

"I just get in a flow state, you know how it is," Neil mumbled, unable to meet Miles's earnest blue eyes. "Autocannibalism is the next evolutionary adaptation for computer programmers. Great for productivity."

That startled a laugh out of Miles, shattering the heavy moment. "Did you seriously just say autocannibalism?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That's so wonderfully morbid. My silly boy is spending too much time with those creepy coding gremlins. And neglecting his meals too much as well!

Neil managed a wry grin, silently relieved at Miles's pivot to their usual affectionate razzing. He captured Miles's hand with his own, stilling the restless stroking motion across his belly as he laced their fingers together.

"I dunno, my appetite seems to be doing just fine this morning," he countered with a roguish wriggle of his eyebrows, tugging Miles's slender frame more fully on top of him. The churning in his gut seemed to double at the pleasant weight settling atop him, a different kind of hunger stirring to life.

“Oh god, you’re ridiculous.” Miles snorted and rolled his eyes, but then another deep and low rumble came from Neil’s belly. Neil was slightly taller than Miles, but slim and lanky too, though his body seemed to burn calories two times faster. Miles immediately pressed his hand back to Neil’s upper left belly again. “Shit, did you hear that one? I can even feel it with my hand…”

Neil couldn't help but squirm a little as Miles' hand returned to his belly, his another palm splaying over the taut skin just above his navel. Neil’s stomach chose that exact moment to unleash another incredibly loud, unmistakably ravenous rumble that seemed to reverberate through Miles' fingers.

"Christ..." Neil exhaled, feeling his cheeks flush hotly. There was no denying the sheer volume and intensity of the gurgling coming from his clearly very empty stomach. He looked up at Miles with a sheepish grin, trying to play it off with a casual shrug. "I guess that's what I get for coding for like 12 hours straight on just a sandwich, huh?"

But Miles didn't seem the least bit amused, eyebrows furrowed in a look of stern concern as he pressed down more insistently. "Neil, this isn't funny - that sounds absolutely feral," he chided, shaking his head. "I can feel how hollow and ravenous your poor belly is from skipping meals."

Neil felt his neck growing warm under Miles' disapproving stare and the undeniable noise issuing from his stomach. As if to prove Miles' point, his traitorous gut chose that moment to unleash another extended hollow groan of hangry snarls and gurgles, seemingly amplified by Miles' fingers prodding the taut, empty surface.

"Oh my god, babe..." Miles' eyes went wide, gaze flicking between Neil's increasingly red face and the concave hollows of his belly clenching with hunger. His hand traced the jittering outlines of Neil's abdomen, seemingly mapping each anguished grumble. "You sound completely famished!"

There was an intensity in Miles' laser-focused scrutiny that Neil found utterly disarming. He swallowed hard, caught between embarrassment and an odd vulnerability at having his most basic needs laid so bare.

Miles shook his head again slowly, worrying his lower lip in that way that always drove Neil a little crazy. "We're getting food into you right now, mister," he said firmly, shifting to throw one lean thigh over Neil's hips and straddle him fully. "This little tum of yours needs to be properly stuffed and silent before I'm allowing any other activities this morning."

Neil's breath caught in his throat at Miles' commanding tone, the way his clever fingers dug into the hollows of Neil's belly with purpose. He felt absurdly turned on, heat pooling in his belly despite - or perhaps because of - Miles' chiding over his hunger sounds. Letting out a shaky exhale, Neil managed a crooked grin up at his boyfriend's intense stare.

"Y-Yeah? You gonna take care of me and this 'little tum' then?" he teased, unable to resist pushing Miles' buttons even as another pang of hunger lanced through his belly. His hands found Miles' narrow waist, pulling him closer until their bodies nestled together.

“Neil… Stop it.” Miles exhaled with exasperation, rolling his eyes, but leaned closer, nestling his head and ear directly on Neil’s belly, making poor Neil blush further “Would you let me listen closely for a bit? The noises are concerning, really.”

“M-Miles, what are you--?" Neil stammered out, feeling utterly exposed as Miles nestled his ear directly against Neil's belly. The intimate contact made his stomach seemingly roar back to life, gurgling and rumbling incessantly just inches from Miles' face.

Neil bit his lip, mortified yet undeniably aroused by this embarrassingly vulnerable position. He could feel the shuddering contractions of his empty gut reverberating against Miles' cheek with each agonizing growl. There was nowhere to hide, each anguished complaint over his hunger laid bare for Miles' scrutiny.

"J-Jesus..." Neil's strained murmur only seemed to spur his traitorous stomach into louder outbursts, punctuated by the occasional high-pitched whine. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands instinctively coming up to cradle Miles' blonde head against his body in a futile attempt to muffle the obscene noises.

Of course, all that seemed to accomplish was pulling Miles even more snugly against him. Neil could feel the warm puffs of Miles' breathing against his bare skin with every rumble, heightening his awareness of each chrysalis-like contraction.

"Goddamn, you really weren't kidding about the state of me..." Neil rasped out a breathy laugh, struggling to hide how turned on he was getting with Miles practically cradling his vocally dissatisfied belly. "It's like...like there's a freaking thunderstorm happening in my damn guts or something."

Miles made a soft noise of agreement, rubbing his cheek in a slow circle over Neil's navel as if he could physically soothe the knots of emptiness twisting there. "It sounds completely ravenous," he murmured, voice laced with concern. "Like, genuinely feral hunger noises coming from in here."

To punctuate his words, Miles' palm smoothed over Neil's lower abdomen just as another incredible bellow erupted from his depths. Neil actually jumped a little at the volume, sucking in a sharp breath as Miles's hands roamed over the clenching indentations of his malnourished belly.

"Shit, Neil...I really need to get some food into you as soon as possible," Miles fretted, peppering soft kisses against the trembling planes of Neil's stomach between growls. "This poor tummy of yours needs to be utterly, ruthlessly stuffed to make up for the neglect."

Neil squirmed helplessly, body thrumming with arousal at the commanding tone Miles had taken, at the almost clinical analysis of his gnawing hunger and empty belly. "Y-Yeah...whatever you think is best, doc," he managed to choke out, arching up shamelessly against the weight of Miles straddling him.

Dark lashes fluttering, Neil tugged Miles up for a searing kiss to swallow his next whimper as a particularly vicious series of rumbles tore through his abdomen. "Please..." he gasped against Miles' lips, all facade of control shattered. "I need you to take care of me."

«Woah, Bridgers.” Miles grinned, and Neil felt even more flustered. It was unusual for him to be bashful and self conscious or vulnerable. But with Miles around, especially when Miles was grinning like this or was able to hear these embarrassing stomach noises, Neil could feel his cheeks burning hot. “You feel shy when your tummy embarrasses you like that, hm?”

Neil felt his cheeks flushing an even darker shade of crimson at Miles' teasing observation. He averted his gaze, self-consciously wrapping his arms around his belly in a futile attempt to muffle the unrelenting growls.

"I--it's not...I'm not shy, exactly," he mumbled, very much feeling shy and embarrassed under Miles' amused scrutiny. Neil prided himself on his unflappable confidence, but there was something about Miles that never failed to shake that cool composure.

As if to mock him, his stomach chose that moment to unleash another ridiculously loud, gurgling rumble from deep within. Neil winced, shoulders hunching inward as he waited for the telltale laughter from his boyfriend.

But instead of laughing, Miles simply watched him with a soft, affectionate smile playing across his lips. He reached out to gently pry Neil's arms away, exposing his bare torso once more.

"Hey, none of that now," Miles chided gently, rubbing soothing circles over Neil's quivering abdomen. "We've all got rumbly, hungry tummies sometimes. Doesn't change how crazy I am about you."

Neil peeked up at Miles through his lashes, cheeks still burning but feeling some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders at his boyfriend's reassuring words and tender touch. He managed a sheepish grin, giving a self-conscious little shrug.

"I know, I know...I'm not usually such a mess, I swear," he admitted wryly. "But something about you hearing every single gurgle just gets under my skin in a weird way, y'know?"

Right on cue, another unsettlingly loud growl rumbled up from Neil's stomach, the empty cavern seemingly voicing its agreement with his embarrassment. Neil let out a helpless chuckle, shaking his head ruefully.

"Jesus, you'd think I was straight-up starving by the sounds of it! Just...isn't the suavest look on me, I guess."

Miles arched an eyebrow at that, lips quirking up in an impish grin. "I don't know, Bridgers...I kind of dig the whole 'helpless mess' vibe you've got going on right now," he purred teasingly.

He leaned down to nose against Neil's flushed cheek until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. Neil could feel the warm puffs of Miles' breath ghosting over his parted lips as his stomach let out another insistent snarl.

"Seems to me like your growly belly could use a dominant hand to get it back under control," Miles murmured, low and sultry in a way that made Neil shiver despite the heat flooding his face. "Don't you think?"

With a wicked grin, Miles ducked his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the taut planes of Neil's abdomen, sucking a mark just below his navel. The sensation of Miles' lips and tongue lavishing attention on his snarling belly made Neil's back arch off the bed with a strangled cry.

"F-Fuck...Miles..." he gasped out, tangling his fingers into those wild blonde locks as his boyfriend worked his way across Neil's quaking stomach.

Lifting his head with kiss-swollen lips, Miles pinned Neil with a heated stare that made the programmer's mouth go dry. "Just lay back and let me take the reins for once, baby," he purred, long fingers splaying possessively over Neil's hollow belly.

"I'm gonna get this noisy little tum of yours stuffed and happy again if it's the last thing I do..."

#hunger kink #hunger fic #belly kink #stomach growling #hungry stomach #Miles #Neil

30 notes · View notes