#did a resume review with a colleague and he said i should tailor my resumes to the job i apply for

[mahikamihan]

i have succumbed to the Corporate Hustle of needing ATS-friendly resume layouts 🤧 goodbye my old unconventionally designed resumes, you shall be missed 😿

[chubby-teen-wolf-campfire]

The Offices of Hale and Hale - Round 1 - Derek & Peter

- by @chubby-derek-and-friends & @zandaxesfox

Derek cautiously tugged his shirt down and gave a nervous look at himself in the mirror. Regretfully, despite having come in to measure him and Isaac nearly a week before, the tailor had yet to appear with an updated wardrobe, and he could drastically use that update tonight. Tonight, being the standing dinner he had with Peter every Friday.

"Maybe he won't notice," Derek muttered to himself as his eyes roamed over his newly arising curves. The buttons were even more taut then then had been last week, and his ribbed undershirt definitely revealed itself in the football-shaped gaps that appeared when he sat down. Derek couldn’t help running a finger over the overtaxed buttons, feeling a slight thrill, before returning to his focus on getting ready. Maybe Peter wouldn’t say anything? Derek snorted as he quickly straightened his tie to hide the puckering fabric. "Yeah, right." He pulled on his jacket and headed out the door.

Upon arriving at the steakhouse, Derek was greeted by the hostess who guided him to their usual table. Number 12, situated between the kitchen and the fireplace. When he got there and thanked the hostess with a charming smile, he saw a distinctly softer Peter having found his way through most of what had been an appetizer plate. Derek took in the rounded face and protruding belly his uncle had grown, thinking about the bills he had reviewed for the company credit cards, and suddenly knew exactly where all those funds were going. At least if Peter decided to be an ass, Derek had his own ammunition.

Derek began to seat himself, but Peter reached a hand across to shake, making Derek bow over the table awkwardly. He could feel the way the snug shirt pulled at his stomach and knew his uncle could see it too when he smirked.

"Ah, Derek, I see you are definitely making use of our Happiness Producer?”

Withdrawing his hand, Derek slid down into his seat, and quickly spread his napkin over his lap.

"At least as much use as you are of your expense accounts," he replied, his smile stiff. "Maybe Stiles should be focusing more on you."

Peter frowned. “Are you spying on me, nephew? He asked.

Derek’s smile relaxed slightly. “Of course not, Peter. But I do review the expense accounts when I’m notified by accounting of…unusual activity on our CFO’s card.

Derek leaned forward and stabbed the last cheese-stuffed mushroom from the appetizer plate with a fork before Peter could, popping it into his mouth with satisfaction.

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I see. And are you going to chastise me for my spending?”

Derek shook his head and swallowed the delicious mouthful. “A couple burgers and a few buckets of fried chicken are hardly bank-breaking,” Derek said, “though I do think you should let Stiles do more menu-planning for you if that’s what you’re been eating recently.

Peter leaned back and resumed his normal Cheshire grin. "Oh, he takes care of me just fine," Peter teased, causing Derek to frown.

"Peter, I swear, if you are being inappropriate with an employee..."

"Relax, dear nephew, relax," Peter interrupted, "I am doing no such thing. Besides, I don't believe our dear Stiles would put up with any such treatment. Do you?"

Derek furrowed his brow, recalling the way Stile had rebuked Jackson outside his office earlier that week. None of them had known that Derek had come back in late to review some paperwork for the latest merger, but Derek had been impressed with how easily Stiles had stood up to Jackson's bullying. He very much doubted that Stiles would accept the same from Peter either. At least not unless it were reciprocated.

"Hmm." Derek answered non-commitally.

Changing the subject to the acquisition of a small chain of corner stores, Derek did his best to keep the idea of Peter and Stiles out of his mind. The merger seemed to distract Peter well enough. Although, it was small, and had little to do with their main enterprise, the extra support of a small business could relieve some pressure from the economic stresses the company was handling, if all went well. And if there was one thing Peter loved to talk about more than his...extra-curricular activities, it was money.

Having been coming to this restaurant weekly for several years, the staff had Derek and Peter's orders memorized. Or at least Derek thought they did, until the waiter arrived with two rather obscenely-large steaks, each having its own caesar salad and fully-loaded baked potato.

"Oh, I don't think this is mine," Derek said as they placed the slab of meat in front of him. His usual dinner was much more demure in portion size.

"Relax, dear nephew, I updated your order," Peter said, already cutting into his own steak. "I figured with your appetite, you would need a little bit more to be satisfied."

Derek frowned, but cut into the steak anyways, finding it cooked perfectly. His stomach growled as he smelled the delicious food, and he decided that this time he wouldn't try to fight Peter.

Peter began talking in short bites, between bites of food. "We need to invest a...small amount of...funds into the head store..." He barely seemed to be taking time to breathe as he shoveled steak and potato into his mouth, bloating up his cheeks.

Derek watched the older man with something between shock and fascination. He continued to eat his own food at a decidedly slower rate, Peter's antics having enthralled him.

"The larger...return we will get...from the growth of the...flagship store will..."

Derek could hardly pay attention to what Peter was saying, transfixed by the way Peter demolished the food in front of him. Derek quickly shook his head and tried to focus on his own delicious steak, the juicy tender meat practically melting on his tongue and the buttery baked potato providing a welcome contrast.

Derek nodded occasionally, trying to keep himself from staring, but he couldn't help glancing up between his own mouthfuls to watch Peter's display. Peter had made his way halfway through what had to be an 18 oz steak and did not seem inclined to slow down, though Derek could almost understand that urge as he ate his own meal. The quality of the food at this steakhouse was never disappointing, matching the quality of food that Stiles always brought in to the office, though at quite a higher price than what Stiles seemed to be able to achieve when he ordered. One day Derek was going to have to ask the man how he managed to get such great deals. Of course, that would require Derek to maybe talk to Stiles outside of their occasional quick brushes. Maybe…maybe Derek could ask Stiles to double his lunch order one day and share with him? Would that be inappropriate? Derek had business lunches all the time but none of his colleagues made him feel quite like Stiles did when he smiled at Derek. That was maybe concerning.

"Derek? Are you even listening?"

Derek blinked, unsure when he had drifted off, but his and Peter’s plates were both empty and his stomach was heavy and full.

"No, I was listening Peter," Derek said, leaning back. His stomach protruded proudly. Peter looked to be in a similar position, his own stomach bloated. Derek closed his eyes for a moment to stop himself from staring as Peter hypnotically rubbed his turgid stomach. Derek definitely felt food-drunk. "Sorry, I got distracted."

Looking for a way to escape, he glanced towards the bathroom. "Just give me a moment, I'll be right back."

Peter rolled his eyes, already grabbing for the dessert menu the waiter had placed on the side of the table. "I do hope that wasn't too much for you, dear nephew."

Derek grunted as he stood up, carefully trying to keep his stomach muscles held in as he made his way quickly to the restroom. His breathing was labored from the heavy meal he had packed into stomach. Once he had made his way into a stall, he allowed himself to breathe out, his gut pushing out proudly. Derek rubbed his hands down the bloated sphere, feeling the slightly soft layer of fat that now covered his midsection, and beneath it, the hard lump of his dinner. Derek couldn't believe he'd eaten so much. And Peter...what had he been thinking? Maybe it was a power game? Peter loved those. Something to show him up in his eating prowess? Establish some sort of masculine dominance? Either way, Derek has successfully met the challenge, though he did feel slightly worse for wear.

At the sound of a soft ping, Derek pulled his phone out from his pants pocket, the fabric tightly resisting, and sat down on the seat with another grunt. He hoped that maybe the message would be something from the office, maybe even an emergency. Anything, really, to get him out of what he was sure would be a torturous dessert spent with Peter. In his haste to unlock his phone, however, Derek dropped the device onto the floor, wincing at the clatter, and bent down to pick it up. He grunted as his stomach was compressed again, his overstuffed belly impeding the motion as he leaned forward to grasp the device. Just as he wrapped his fingers around the plastic case, he heard a series of other noises.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Derek quickly sat back up and moved his had to where he could now feel the relief of tension where three of his shirt buttons had decided to vacate. He stood up in horror and exited the stall to look at himself in the mirror, fingers feeling around the gap. Aside from his ribbed undershirt, which had risen up, there was now a sliver of slightly furred belly which was open to the air.

Derek let his pinky slip under the hem of the shirt. Was he really this big? What was happening to him? Thoughts raced through his mind as he rubbed his bared belly, feeling a tingle with each stroke. What would Stiles say?

A flush from the stall behind him knocked Derek out of his introspection and he realized that he would have to go back out there to deal with Peter. Shit.

***

Peter sat back from the table, sighing as he continued to rub his swollen stomach. The meal had been quite satisfying, even if his nephew hadn't really held up his end of the conversation. Peter tapped the folded dessert menu on the edge of the table as he pondered his nephew's behavior. Derek had seemed...distracted. Peter wasn't sure if he had seen Derek distracted in quite some time. And with the way Derek had responded to Peter's quip about Stiles taking care of him, Peter believed he knew exactly what was keeping his nephew's attention.

Peter felt the contents of his stomach shift slightly and quickly stifled a burp into his fist, finding some relief in the release of pressure, though he still felt well and truly stuffed. He smacked his lips slightly, still able to taste the savory steak and buttery potato on his tongue. Perhaps Derek was right. Maybe he should allow Stiles to do a little bit more meal planning for him, instead of the fast food runs he'd been sending the boy on. Though, a good cheap burger or a pile of fried chicken still satisfied something in him. Maybe there could be something of a compromise...

The waiter chose that moment to approach the table, his eyes widening at the completely empty plates that Peter and Derek had left behind. "I see you gentlemen enjoyed your dinner?" the young man asked.

"Quite," Peter smiled, "though I still believe I could do with something...sweet."

The waiter nodded, smiling, and began to stack the plates to clear them. "Of course, Mr. Hale. Do you need a few minutes to look over the dessert menu, or…”

“Oh, no, I won’t be eating dessert here this evening,” Peter interrupted, “Though I will take a slice of cheesecake and a molten chocolate cake to go. But I doubt they could satisfy my sweet tooth.”

The waiter raised an eyebrow. “I can certainly put those in for you, but is there anything else I can do to help make your meal more to your satisfaction?”

Peter smiled at the young man for a moment, not saying anything. The young man blushed a furious shade of red, but still kept his flirty smile in place.

“Of course, your response has no bearing on my impression of this fine restaurant nor on your tip this evening, but I believe that some company would make this quite a wonderful evening.” Peter stated. He slid his wallet from his pocket and withdrew enough money to cover both the tab and a healthy tip, and slid it and his card under his glass.

The waiter nodded, backing away with the plates. “Well, let me get your desserts ready for you.”

Peter watched the young man walk away, noting how fit and trim he was. It had been some time since Peter had enjoyed the company of another man, but tonight he felt the urge to give into his hedonistic needs.

Another burp burbled up and Peter again stifled it behind his fist, the action returning his thoughts to where they were previously. Derek and his…distraction. It wouldn’t do to let Derek become too distracted. After all, they had a business to run. Maybe he should have a word with Stiles about that. Peter pulled up his phone and quickly tapped out an email to Stiles requesting a meeting with him on Monday. He likely wouldn’t get a reply until the next day at least, but why waste time?

When he looked back, up, Peter was greeted by the site of the waiter returning with two paper bags.

“Your desserts, Mr. Hale,” he said, setting them down.

Peter looked into the bags, finding not two, but three containers. “I think you gave me someone else’s box,” Peter told the waiter.

“Oh, no, that’s definitely all yours,” the waiter said with a wink, “I wanted to make sure you had enough to satisfy you later.”

Peter smiled, noting how the waiter had picked up his card and was sliding it into his pocket. “Ah, wonderful.”

“Will there be anything else?” the waiter asked.

“That’s all,…for now.” Peter said, setting the bags down by his chair.

The waiter smiled and left, leaving Peter to again enjoy the view as he walked away.

***

Derek returned to the table from the bathroom with his hand firmly holding his jacket closed over his stomach.

“Uh, something’s come up, Peter, so I have to…”

“That something wouldn’t have anything to do with the way you’re holding your jacket closed would it?” Peter asked.

Derek blushed.

“Hmmm, yes, I’m not surprised, dear nephew,” Peter chided, “You may want to call Antonio and ask him to add some growing room to your newest order.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed angrily. “Are you spying on me now?” Derek asked.

Peter laughed. “Of course not, Derek. Always so suspicious. I just happened to have called Antonio for a wardrobe update myself and he mentioned coming to see you. Now I can see why.”

Derek still wore an unhappy, if less thunderous expression.

Peter stood up, straightening his jacket. His own belly was bloated and protruding.

“Well, I have already taken care of the check,” Peter said, “And I took the liberty of ordering dessert to go for both of us. I know how much you enjoy their cheesecake.

Derek wanted to protest, but his mouth was slightly watering at the thought of the creamy dessert, so he held back. “Thank you,” he ground out.

Peter smiled pleasantly and leaned down to pick up both bags of food which the waiter had brought out for them, but he stood up quickly when both men heard a ripping noise.

Derek smirked as took a bag from his uncle. “It seems I’m not the only one with a wardrobe malfunction this evening, hmm?”

Peter has slid his hand around to his rear end where his pants now sported a large tear.

“Good night, Peter.” Derek turned and left, enjoying the embarrassed look on Peter’s face, and knowing he would treasure it for a long time.