It was late 2035, and sometimes, things work out differently.  Daz never thought he'd be moving back to Opystoph, but more surprisingly, his friend Brock did not imagine moving to Opystoph at all.  Whether it was fate or the fact that solely Protelez and its laws drove him batty, he followed in his friend Ace's footsteps and moved across the world after getting to know some of Ace's friends.  At this point, Daz and Brock got into a routine of going to the gym three nights a week.
"So, you really had a stalker back in the day, huh?" Brock asked, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the full moon.  His tight tank top left little to one's imagination.  He wasn't quite sure what was in store for him tonight other than saying hi to Ace before deciding where to eat.
"Yeah, but if it happens again, I can just beat 'im up myself!" Daz chortled, his overhang out on full display as the nearby lamp posts making the faint sweat stains on his shirt obvious. "You miss the ol' Chumble Chamber?"
"Yeah, but at least I got to be a bouncer here too.  Would've been a shame if this imposing figure went to waste!" And as Brock patted his round belly, it growled tremendously.  This made his ears fold back as if he was a puppy who felt bad about destroying a living room. "Why the fuck I gotta be cursed with this thing, ugh."
Daz slung a meaty around around his comrade. "Hey, it's part of the package, man.  You lift big, you eat big, so it only checks out that the growls are big too, right?" The croc gently prodded his bro's belly with a claw as if to ask its personal opinion. Instead, Daz's own belly growled so ferociously that it startled a fox passing by. "Heh, gotta own it." Still, he looked back and mouthed a "Sorry!" toward the stranger.
Soon, the bakery door opened loudly, just a step below a slam.  Ace looked up with wide eyes, then he gazed at Daz, who was giving the ‘you know what to do’ look.
"Hey dude!" Brock exclaimed. "How'd it go today?" And just like that, his energy was nearly gone as he slumped in a booth.  The bat was in need of a meal or three.
Ace gave Daz a quick peck on the cheek as the Kolegon flipped the sign of his old-style bakery's sign to ‘CLOSED.’ "Pretty good, thanks!  Feet are tired, but that's normal.  Any new PR's today?"
"Nah, but Brock almost broke a machine..." Daz cut in, snickering. "So..."
And with that, Ace motioned with a ‘come hither’ gesture toward the back of the bakery.  "Less talkin', more eatin'."  As easily as he got spooked by everyday things, he was the king of his castle. And there it was: a feast of pies (both savory and sweet) along with similar items prepared ahead of time. "Dig in."
"Ohhh, killer!  I'm so damn hungry dude, thanks for the offer!" Brock said, his mouth agape.
Ace's eyes glowed. "That wasn't an offer." After pointing at the sofa for Brock to sit, Ace served the bat a quiche with meat and cheese.  Daz sat down and place his hands on top of his belly, his tail bumping against Brock.  Naturally, Ace had a second plate in his hand, and Daz gobbled up his own quiche with no utensils.  Brock's tendency to use forks and such was not an option tonight, but he was too hungry to care.  Plate after plate of food found its way into his gullet, and he was already starting to get bloated.  Naturally, Ace had some milk ready to ‘remedy’ this.  Meanwhile, Daz was filling his mouth with some rather fattening custard.  Five minutes turned to 10, 10 to 20, and half an hour later, both Brock's belly and Daz's were sticking out several inches more than they were at the gym.
"OOOAAWRRRRRRRRRRLLLP... OK, I'm stuffed!" Brock panted, resting his hands behind his head after giving his belly a quick, satisfying pat.  He also rested his eyes, then felt a cool sensation at his nose: icing from a pie.  Clearly, he didn't know how things worked in this secret room quite yet.  As Ace pushed his friend to make that tank top rise even higher above the navel, Daz was nursing a rather large piping bag from Ace's free hands.  The mighty Evan may have four hands, but Ace had enough intent that he probably could stuff the bat and crocodile with one of said hands behind his back.  Technically, he was respecting the bat, who disliked messes and crumbs, yet there was not a single one to be found — not on the clothes, not on the plates, not on the floor.  Brock's belly gurgled in an almost concerning manner while Daz's looked like it was ready to touch the floor with a bit more pushing.  Ace's own belly was pressing against his partner's, and Brock's was ready to join in — and it technically had judging from his belly button, which distended as if it was a timer to announce the end of his stuffing. Another "UUUURRAAWRRRuurrllUWAARRP" got out, but just to make sure, Ace had the bat chug one more quart of heavy cream.  Brock was good at tolerating pain, but even he was already surpassing his limit, and if he didn't rip another belch, he may not have had the room to hold in everything.
Brock's navel pressed at Ace's apron, and the Kolegon felt up the bulging blue belly before him. "Yeah, you did goooood.  Nice capacity, champion!  All those years of extra meals served ya well."
"Whew... all right, Ace.  *huff*  I'm good to tap out, too..." Daz said with labored breaths, eyeing the hill of plates in front of the mountain of scaly belly.
"I'll say when we're done..." The Kolegon locked eyes as he brought out a large jar of cuhdew butter, tossing it to his boyfriend's webbed hands.  "You got 3 minutes to eat it all, or no kisses."  Daz was worried enough about not popping, but he looked over to his gym buddy's belly, remembering the conversation about being tough.  Not only did he begin dumping the contents onto his tongue after opening the jar, but he gave a little flex too, his bicep stretching with each pump of his arm almost in time with how his belly rose and fell with each breath.  Brock stared in disbelief as Daz swallowed and swallowed, reminded of the first time he did something similar... with a smaller jar, of course.  Suddenly, he felt Ace's hands on his belly, as he must have known the bat needed relief. Careful grazing of claws and knuckles coaxed out more burps, and even if some pressure was alleviated, the bat was still overly packed.  Brock placed a hand on top of his dome while Ace did the heavy lifting, making sure the underbelly got care as well.
Daz took his time now, knowing that as long as he started strong, he could ease into the end of the three-minute mark.  In slow motion, it nearly looked like his gut was having something poured into it from a hose on full-blast.  To make sure he felt at least one bulge of pressure, Ace placed a hand on his boyfriend's severely overstuffed belly, which — as wobbly and contoured as it was — was rather firm to the touch.  Ace kissed the very middle of it where the bulge was at its most roundness, Daz's tongue going the extra mile to clean the inside of the jar.  "Did I make it?" Daz asked, and Ace nodded. "Hah-HAAAARRRRRRRLLLLP!  Could eat this too if it wasn't made of glass.  Now, uh..." Ace interrupted the crocodile with a sensual kiss.  Ace didn't speak it, but Daz knew full (very full) well how proud Ace was.  Now that Brock had sufficiently been eased (temporarily) Ace focused on his boyfriend, starting by placing the empty jar on top of the scaly dome of fat as if to say ‘yeah, you did this...’ seemingly not worried about it falling... but given the solidness of Daz's belly, nothing on Daz was going to jiggle anytime soon... and the few things that could were long since buried.
"How's that feel?" Ace asked, turning one hand back to the bat, playing the gentlest of bongos with the bellies before him.  He was sure to massage as well as kiss all that was within reach.  Brock was occupied with panting in bliss, but Daz was able to squeeze in a reply after a hearty belch.
"Solid.  You know how to treat a guy with ‘stuffing afterglow,’ mate..."