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How He Does Lunch
🕑 Added 2021-02-25 21:30:38 +0000 UTCAnton’s stride is slow, but he’s so tall that you still have to keep your pace. You find yourself distracted by how much the fold above his lovehandle engulfs your elbow, by how soft his hands and fingers are. There’s a reassuring strength in his gait, and in his grip that just makes you want him to wrap you in his arms, to feel your smaller form utterly overwhelmed by his bulk. Gazing up at him; his broad features are softened so much plump fat then…you notice his mouth is moving and find yourself almost enraptured by the subtle jiggle of his cheeks and chins before you realize he’s saying something.
“..-wanted to take you to my favorite place.” Anton said, with his usual sunny smile. His eyes squinted against the bright midday sun as he peered around the streets. “It’s up here, past the intersection. Good prices, good portion sizes, and the staff are so friendly!” He said, his cheeks dimpling more deeply as his smile widened. “At least as long as you’re friendly in the first place, but I know we won’t have a problem.” He squeezes you against his side then and you can feel your body sink into his. You fight not to let out a flustered moan.
He doesn’t seem to notice, he keeps you clasped to his side ensuring the two of you aren’t separated by the throngs of people heading toward their midday repast destinations. He guides you to the crosswalk and then the two of you head to the other side of the street, Anton takes the crossing at something like a jog. The huge man is puffing and red cheeked by the time you get to the other side. “S-sorry if I’m a little sweaty. I always worry about making people wait when I’m crossing the street…so I try to do it quick!” He says, his smile more sheepish than sunny now as he mops his forehead with a handkerchief.
You feel the almost overwhelming urge to lay Anton down and daub his plump flushed face with a cold cloth, but instead you stammer out a flustered “N-no, it’s alright…I get a bit nervous about making people wait sometimes too!” Anton smiles back at you, apparently comforted by this admission of solidarity.
“At least it’s still chilly, I won’t be overheated as long…” He chuckles, the sound a little ragged from his heavy breathing. He turns his plump face upward, looking at the signage over the sidewalk. “It’s there, three doors down.” He lifts one of his arms to point, and you can’t help tracking its progress, even through the shirt you can see how his upper arm envelops his elbow, and the cuff doesn’t fully conceal how his forearms create little rolls at his wrists.
You finally turn in the direction that Anton had pointed, managing to take your eyes off of his pudgy hand to read the sign over a diner that you’d walked past almost every day on your way to work. “Frannie-Beth’s First-rate Fixin’s” boasts the colorful banner over the door. By the name is a cartoon woman who looks like a cross between a 50’s era waitress and the mother from Little House on the Prairie.
Inside, the diner has a quaint welcoming sort of décor and you find yourself smiling as Anton precedes you in and holds the door for you. Your expression turns flustered once more as you realize there’s not quite enough space for you to squeeze past Anton’s large belly without pushing against it. Anton doesn’t seem to notice his wide sloping girth nearly flattening you against the wall as you wiggle past. It’s an effort to keep yourself from gripping handfuls of his belly and side rolls for a moment. But then, you’re on the other side of the door; the warm air, smells, and sounds of an eatery that is not quite a greasy spoon but isn’t fancy enough to be a bistro surrounding you.
Anton pats your shoulder and starts to walk toward a table in the back corner near the kitchen door. There’s a booth seat on one side and a couple of chairs on the other; Anton heads for the latter, pushing one of the chairs a bit out of the way and settling his bulk onto the remaining chair after positioning it at the middle of the table. He puffs softly, looking up at you with his cheeks still flushed from the exertion of the walk here, and then gestures for you to take a seat on the booth side.
You can hear the metal frame of his chair creaking softly under his bulk, but at the same time you can’t help feeling a little disappointed that he hadn’t tried to pack his massive form into the booth side. You shake your head in a way that you hope is subtle and sit on bench seat opposite Anton.
He’s just barely taken up his menu when a waitress, who looks like she could have been the model for the cartoon mascot on the diner’s banner, appears by your table. “Anton! Great to see ya again.” She says, patting the enormous man on his plump shoulders…you track a small course of ripples through Anton’s plush chest and upper belly with a guilty flush.
“Hiya Beth!” He replies, his sunny smile back in place. “I’ll have the usual, and I’ll cover whatever my friend here wants too.” He gestures at you across the table, favoring you with a subtle wink that makes your heart skip a beat. You start to open your mouth to protest, he shouldn’t feel like he needs to pay for you, but you get distracted as the waitress turns and begins to rattle off Anton’s “usual”.
“Cookie! Put on a double waffle stack, triple bacon, three egg cheddar omelet, grilled sirloin, pancake short stack, sausage on the side, and spinach salad.” She turns back to the mountainous sweetheart with a small smile on her face. “Ya want coffee today hun, or tea?”
“Late night last night,” He says, cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll take coffee, with heavy cream and honey.”
“Comin’ right out hun,” She says, then turns to you. “And what’ll you have sweetie?” She looks you over inquisitively, readying a paper pad and a small pen.
You’re momentarily at a loss, put on the spot after being so intensely flustered. But eventually you remember that you’re holding a menu and look back at it. “I’ll uh…I’ll have a grilled chicken sandwich and potato wedges.” You say finally, smiling nervously at the waitress.
She looks subtly between you and Anton, her expression coy, then she turns to deliver your order to the kitchens. You feel the color rising in your cheeks again as you face the possibility that this waitress has you clocked after having just met you. You stare down at the menu for a while until she returns with a pitcher of ice water and some large glasses.
“Thank you…” You mutter at the same time as Anton’s slightly more energetic expression of gratitude. “Thank ya, Beth!”
Anton daubs at his forehead again, removing the last little dewy skein of sweat from his brow, then takes a long swallow from his water glass. A little bit of it trickles out of the corner of his mouth, droplets patter onto his shirt and leave little damp spots just at the midway point of the slope of his right moob. You’re still staring when he finishes, letting out a sigh of relief and wiping his mouth on his cuff.
“You okay?” He asks again, apparently noticing that your face is quite red and you’re staring almost fixedly at his chest and face. Is it just the light in here…or have Anton’s lips always been so pink and full. You shake your head, a little more violently this time and try to laugh it off.
“I guess I’m just a little loopy from lack of food.” You say, waving your hand in a dismissive fashion.
Anton still looks concerned and waves for the waitress, Beth is back at your table almost right away. “Yeah, hon? What d’ya need?”
“Can we have an appetizer sampler? My friend missed breakfast.” Anton says with a smile, and you feel his heavy hand settle onto yours, the weight and size of it makes you want to freeze and melt at the same time.
“Of course!” Beth says, “We’ll get it right out to ya.” The waitress looks over the two of you again with a smile, noting how Anton gently pats the back of your hand before pulling away again.
“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” You say, your cheeks turning pink. But Anton just smiles at you and the rest of your objections flounder.
“Hey, everyone needs to eat. And I don’t want my friend to go hungry now, do I?” He winks at you again and once more you feel your heart flutter.
“I guess you’ve got me th-…” You’re interrupted by Beth setting a large appetizer sampler on the table between you, you look up at the waitress a little shocked by the fast delivery.
“Enjoy, your main dishes will be out in a few.” She flutters her fingers at the two of you and saunters away into the bustle of the restaurant.
It wasn’t until the food was in front of you that you realized just how hungry you were. But you still hesitated, part of you wanted to watch Anton eat every scrap of food that the two of you had ordered. You wonder, could he do it? Would he be offended if you asked him to?
Once again you’re broken out of your private musings by Anton asking you something. “…-n’t you want to get a few to eat?” He was saying, looking over you again, you could see the same concern that had been in his expression since he’d talked to you that morning. You nod and smile, taking a few of the stuffed mushrooms and a few pieces of the fresh veggies.
“Oh, good choice, the stuffed mushrooms are delicious!” Anton said, leaning over the table and whispering as if this were some kind of conspiratorial knowledge. He takes one of the small plates and loads it with several mushrooms, mozzarella sticks, a couple of potato wedges, and a decent pile of the raw broccoli.
As you slowly eat the appetizers you’d taken, Anton was absolutely right the mushrooms were to die for, you finally get what part of you had wanted this whole entire time. Really, what you’d wanted since you first saw Anton at work. Anton has started to eat. And you had a front row, unobstructed view.
The huge man ate with intense focus and an almost delicate precision. He dipped a mozzarella stick into the thick ranch sauce and brought it to his mouth. He held one pudgy hand under it careful in case any of the dipping sauce should drip off of it. The large piece of gooey fried cheese disappeared as quickly as the temperature of it would allow. You’d stopped eating your own appetizers, a quarter of a large stuffed mushroom sat forgotten on your plate. Right now you were too busy feasting your eyes to feed your mouth.
You’d seen Anton eating from your own cubicle a few times, and you’d thought you were prepared for a close up view…but you were wrong. You’d never seen someone eat with such wild abandon while still maintaining some form of table manners. Your corpulent coworker gorged and glutted, but no more than a few crumbs missed his mouth or got stuck to his face. And he deftly avoided getting anything on his shirt which might stain. You were in awe, it was like nirvana, Anton’s expression was one of rapturous pleasure the entire time he gobbled up everything on the appetizer tray.
He leans back, inhaling deeply as his change in position makes the chair his wide rump is resting on creak. Anton licks the residue of the last morsel from his fingers and then, almost as if coming out of a kind of trance, looks down at the tray. His eyes widen as he looks at the plate in front of you. The quarter of the stuffed mushroom is still there, clearly one you’d selected when the tray was first brought to your table. One of his plump hands went slowly to his mouth, covering it as an expression of quiet dismay formed on his face.
“I…oh gosh…I’m so…” Anton stammered, his cheeks going redder than they’d been at any point during your walk over here. You’d never seen him so flustered.
“Anton! Anton, please!” You say, your voice raised a little. You put your hand onto his arm. “It’s okay, our orders will be out in just a few minutes.”
But Anton doesn’t seem completely reassured. From his expression he seems to be preparing for a reprimand or an insult, the effect is heart wrenching. “I…I knew I should have ordered two samplers…I should’ve tried to eat more slowly.” Anton murmurs, almost appearing to wilt.
You suddenly want to cry, but you reign it in expecting that it might only make things worse. “Anton, I promise you, I’m not upset. Not even in the slightest.” You say as Beth the Waitress reappears with your main courses. You’re momentarily distracted again by the sheer quantity of food that gets settled onto the table in front of your coworker.
Four large platters are lined up in front of Anton, who is still looking a little discomfited but he at least seems to have taken you at your word and appears to be recovering some. You find it harder and harder to focus on anything else as the waitress queues up his order on the table. A stack of six waffles, drenched in syrup, with large patties of sausage on the edge of the plate, an omelet that you’re almost certain has more than three eggs in it…it covers half the plate and the rest is taken up by home fries and a few cuts of ham, another plate with three pancakes nearly hanging off the edges, and a large steak with a baked potato and finally a massive spinach salad with large cubes of feta cheese and plump Greek olives. Alongside each of the breakfast dishes, Beth places a smaller plate with three pieces of bacon and two pieces of toast. You’re in awe, and you can feel your heart fluttering faster.
Beside the mammoth order that Anton had put in, your grilled chicken sandwich with potato wedges (though sizable in itself) looks paltry. Anton thanks Beth, his tone still wavering a little, a detail that the waitress doesn’t miss. She looks at you sharply for a moment, but then when Anton turns his attention back to you and adds a thank-you for yourself her expression softens.
“Enjoy the food, I’ll be around to check on ya.” Beth says, and a moment later, she’s disappeared into the kitchen once more.
“I meant it, Anton. It’s fine, the mushrooms were more than enough of an appetizer for me.” You say earnestly, putting your hand on your coworker’s much larger one. He smiles at you, and it’s finally that beautiful sunny smile that always melts your heart.
You sit back and pick up one of your potato wedges. Meanwhile, Anton surveys his feast with evident anticipation. He starts as he had with the appetizer sampler, choosing his first mouthful delicately. He cuts the corner off of one of the waffles on his plate, wipes it through the butter swirled syrup, and raises it to his mouth. One hand held below it to catch any errant droplets.
Anton lets out a low groan of pleasure, the sound is so deep that you swear you can feel it resonating through the table and the floor. It sends a chill up your back as he begins to pick up speed again.
You’re stuck all over again by the absolute display of gluttony occurring before you. Anton inhaled the waffles and sausage, moving on to the bacon. It’s been less than five minutes and nearly half of his food is already gone. You’d expect such enthusiastic gorging to be messy, but Anton wasn’t.
“I…I really need to do lunch with you more often.” You say under your breath, watching as the massive mound of man worked through the omelet, the pancakes, and then the sirloin. You wonder idly how he’ll manage to return to work after consuming what would have to total up at something like 8 pounds of food. But then, Anton hasn’t given any indication that this isn’t how he normally eats.
In the time it takes Anton to eat everything but a few bites of his steak, three or four strips of bacon, and about half of his salad…you’ve only eaten a few bites of your sandwich and two potato wedges.
He leans back again, this time his stomach is clearly domed outward by another inch or so. The buttons on the front of his shirt seem strained, and you can hear the fabric creaking softly. “Thank you,” he says, his breathing is a little shallow and he sounds rather full, he puts a hand over his mouth and stifles a burp. “Thank you for accepting my lunch invitation.”
You’re a little caught off guard, a hot blush creeping into your cheeks. “W-well I should be the one thanking you. If not for your invitation, I’d probably have just stayed at my cubicle mainlining coffee and worked right through lunch!”
Anton grins, his plump cheeks dimpling. “Well, you’re very welcome. Shall we…make this a regular thing?”
Your face turns redder, and the only answer you can manage is an enthusiastic nod. You catch Beth’s eye and flag her down. “Y-yes, I’d like a cup of coffee and two pieces of cheesecake. We’re celebrating a new lunchtime tradition!”
