"You're sure you're OK with this?" Daz read his own message on his phone, waiting for Zobbe's response. 
With several reassuring emojis to back up an explanation, Zobbe stated that he was more than willing to share his crocodile while he spent the night catching up with Charlie.  Ever the one to explore, Morton was in the vicinity for the week, and Daz looked over to the large, overweight tiger.  Morton's black shirt was doing little to hide his overhang, and Daz surmised that Morton was looking at the crocodile's beefy arms in the meantime on his way back from the restroom.
"OK, pal.  Ya beat me at arm-wrestling, but what about gaming?" Morton challenged.
"Hah, what happened to getting to know each other?" Daz asked with a sly smile. "I thought you were keen to know someone else from the land down under."
"Yeah — we can get to know each other better through video games!" And with that, Morton shoved a controller playfully against Daz's belly.
K. Rool vs. Incineroar.  Ironically, the crocodile played as the cat, and the tiger played as the king.  "Oh yeah, you said you're really into wrestling, so that makes sense..." Morton stated. "Loser buys dinner #2."
"You're on." Daz's eyes were practically shining.
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Both big beasts got one family bundle each on top of their own XL sundaes and apple pies.  Morton was surprised at how much of a mess Daz made, while Daz was focused on how Morton's belly was slipping out of his shirt more and more.  One thing was understood without words, however: competition.  Daz's famous six-second burps came into play, saliva splashing onto his shirt while Morton was still eating non-stop, surely building up some gas of his own.  Feeling a bit saucy, Daz inched closer to Morton to test the tiger's reaction.  As Morton felt a scaly, bulging love handle at his own, he stopped eating for a second.  Before he could do anything else, the tiger AARRRRROOOOAAAOOORRPed with a dumbfounded look on his face.  "You're falling behind..." Daz taunted.
Morton growled and grabbed his sundae, dumping it into his maw as it slowly slid out of its confines.  Clearly, he was not thinking, as this proved to be too cold for both his mouth and his brain.  Daz's eyes widened as he patted the tiger on the back and spoke a few words of consolation.
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"You don't hafta punish yourself for the sake of trying to out-do someone, mate." Daz looked at his feline friend while patting his own belly.
"I just wasn't thinking!" Morton retorted, plotting some act of playful revenge.  "Mm... hey, you got anything in the kitchen we could make?  I could buy ya brekkie tomorrow to make up for it."
Daz smiled a big croc smile. "Ah, I'm happy to share!  Sure... let's see what I've got."  Daz led the way upstairs, giving Morton a perfect view of his friends wide rear and thick tail.  The stairs groaned in agony with two large creatures on them.  Daz peered around the cabinets until he located something suitable. "Here we go: pudding!  Shouldn't take that long to make — just a matter of cooling afterward."
"Heh, we won't hafta wait the max time!" Morton grinned.  "I got no problem with temperature when it comes to food."
"Except when it comes to dumping an entire frozen treat in your mouth?"
"Shut up."
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After the prep (including spoon-licking) and cooking came the cuddling.  Morton had removed his shirt in an attempt to distract Daz... if simply for the sake of revenge.  Not expecting this, Daz blushed as he drank deep of Morton's features: pillowy pecs, a furry bed of a belly... not to mention arms and legs to carry such things.  "Like whatcha see?" Morton teased, doing his own version of a certain shuffle.  Daz had removed the pudding to cool just in time, as he was drawn to Morton as if he were a siren's lure. The croc had just enough control to motion his head upward: his bed was the only ideal place for extended hugs.
The bed groaned as Morton climbed onto it, his tail doing nothing to hide his crack. "Don't worry about the sound..." Daz stated, enjoying the view before he climbed on the bed as well.  His first target was Morton's chest.  As the minutes went on, Morton let out soft chuffs as his body was explored lightly (all above the waist), and after some awkward hesitations, the two finally talked a bit more about their home continent instead of continuing with affection.  When the pudding cooled, the two ventured back to the kitchen to consume it, yet there was a weird tension in the air.  "Something... wrong?" Daz asked, halfway through his share of the pudding.
"You got any beer, by chance?" Morton asked, whiskers rather messy.  Once Daz explained that he did not and that it wouldn't go well with pudding, Morton sighed. "Fine. I wanna keep competing, but you just... seem to be better at eating, so I hoped I could at least out-drink you." Morton tipped his bowl back and half-heartedly consumed the rest of his pudding.
"You take this competition stuff seriously, don't you?" Daz asked, setting his empty bowl down, Morton's silence saying all that was needed in response. "Well, while we're being honest, I'm not even all that into competing, but there were some things I wanted to do that just seemed awkward to ask for..." Daz trailed off. "Basically, maybe play with your gut more and compare it with mine — not in a competitive way, but for contrast and fun... y'know?"
Morton stared down at his own belly and chuckled. "I was having the same thought. Could tell you were hesitating a bit upstairs but didn't wanna force things.  Of course..." Morton's chair scraped at the floor as he pushed it aside, standing up. "Some things are easier standing up." And with that, the tiger placed his paws at Daz's love handles, then sloshed it around. "Really feels full..."
Daz looked down, his webbed hand gravitating toward Morton's nipples. "Well, that was enough pudding for plenty of people, and we had two dinners..." He then thumped his own belly with his free hand, then Morton's.  Both were very full and bloated from such fast consumption, but fur was a nice contrast to scales.  Daz also took the opportunity to lightly explore the tiger's navel. "Don't have any of these kinds of features, so it's fun to explore 'em on others when I get the chance."
Morton did not respond much, but he let his paws do the talking as he pushed out his belly at the croc's, lifting it, letting it drop, hefting his own and watching it conform against and around Daz's shape.  "Is it bad that I wanna see you keep eating and feel how it grows?" Morton finally teased, also bumping his belly against Daz's repeatedly.
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Just as he found himself to be around Zobbe, Daz became the "victim" of heavy encouragement in the next hour after more food was delivered — thanks to a certain tiger, of course.  It seemed Morton indeed gave up on competing... this time.  After making a supremely stuffed scaly out of Daz, the two explored each other's bellies even more: the firmness, the shapes of the overhangs, the ways that each had their own way of jiggling and stretching when tested.  After holding Daz's belly in place for a few seconds, he let it go to watch it plummet down and bounce. "Damn.  You really got somethin' impressive here."
Daz smiled as he looked downward, squeezing Morton's belly at its sides — prompting a belch — before watching it jolt back to its normal shape after letting go.  Soon after this, Daz worked up the courage to ask to rub his snout at Morton's navel, with a food coma set in soon after for the big green beast.