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It's almost embarrassing.
They're cuddled together in the big bed at Misha's place. It's a long weekend and they've essentially decided to stay in bed all day. Snowy sunlight streams in through the curtains and dapples the room. There's a spaghetti western playing on the TV, and neither of them are paying the slightest bit of attention to it.
Ludwig has pressed every part of himself to Misha as close as he possibly can. They're both still in T-shirts and boxers and nestled up in soft cotton sheets, and close together like this they both feel like they're entirely surrounded by softness. Ludwig reaches over to the tray beside him and stabs another little bite of pancakes on his fork, then smiles up at Misha.
"Say aah," says Ludwig. Misha does, and Ludwig pushes the mouthful of soft fluffy pancakes into his mouth, and follows it up with a small kiss. He nuzzles into the larger man's chest. Misha feels him squirm and sigh with contentment. Their bodies furl together.
Lately, Ludwig keeps cooking stuff for Misha and taking him out to eat. He's actually a pretty good cook when he's motivated, and apparently Misha is a good motivator. Misha is pretty sure this has something to do with the extra weight he's put on recently.
He doesn't care about this, of course. His body is a defensive weapon, not some kind of ornament. He's never cared about how he looks; as long as he can lug Sasha around and be a meat shield for his teammates, his weight couldn't be less relevant.
Or rather, he wouldn't care about this if it weren't for the man curled up in his lap. He doesn't want Ludwig to think he's let himself go…Misha keeps meaning to hit the gym but he never seems to have any time.
His feelings are quite conflicted. He's worried about Ludwig seeing how he looks and being repulsed by him. He finds himself reluctant to take his shirt off in front of the man, which is a new and complicated emotion to him. However, when he does, in the showers or when they're changing, Ludwig still gets that look on his face, that glazed-over hungry expression of desire. If he didn't know any better, Misha would think he liked it.
Which would be weird, right? Who would find that attractive? But Ludwig's gaze always seems to stick to the extra bulk Misha's been putting on his stomach, chest, and hips. And when this happens Ludwig's expression looks even more deranged than usual. Not to mention the way he's always feeling him up and acting like he really appreciates it.
He's doing it right now, in fact. Ludwig is curled up with his chest on Misha's too-full stomach. His hand draws slow circles over it, soothing it, and Misha can tell by the way he's nuzzling into him and unconsciously letting out little murmurs that he's completely satisfied. The touch is pleasant and relaxing. Occasionally Ludwig pushes his fingers in and Misha is reminded of how full and taut his belly feels right now.
Ludwig shifts around again. He picks up the last strawberry off the plate on the tray and examines it to make sure it's good enough for his Misha.
"What's strawberry in Russian again?" he says.
"Klubnika," says Misha.
"Klub…nika." Ludwig's tongue stumbles over the palatalized syllables.
"Good!" Misha says. "You're getting so good. Going to be better than me soon."
Ludwig laughs. "Oh, you flatter me." He holds the strawberry up to Misha, who takes it in his mouth obediently. When he's done eating it, Ludwig carefully slips his fingers into Misha's mouth one by one and watches him lick them clean.
He has that look again. That blind desire. That hunger. He doesn't know it, but Misha would do absolutely anything for that look.
They kiss softly, holding each other with the same desperate need for closeness. Misha feels Ludwig's warm hands spread over his chest, squeezing him and brushing his palms over his skin. He locks his arms around Ludwig's body, wanting to keep him safe forever.
"You're so soft," Ludwig whispers. "Your body feels so wonderful." He brings his hands to the back of Misha's head as he peppers kisses over his face.
"I love you so much, Doktor."
"I love you, mein Schatz."
After Ludwig unwinds his arm he retrieves the fork and stabs the pancakes triumphantly. "Last bite," he says.
"Already?" Misha's surprised. He’s full, but he doesn’t feel like he's eaten that much.
"If you're still hungry, I'll make more..."
"No! Was just…fast."
Ludwig nods. He carefully places the last little bite of pancakes into Misha's mouth and kisses his cheek, then drops down to curl up on top of him.
"You did so good," Ludwig coos as he does his familiar eager squirm into the other man's body. "Thank you."
"Thank me for what?" says Misha with his mouth full.
"I like seeing you eat my food. It's…satisfying." Ludwig presses a kiss to Misha's stomach. When Misha looks down, he instantly sees that dark look in Ludwig's eyes. He cards his fingers through Ludwig's messy hair, encouraging whatever it is that he wants.
Ludwig’s hand gently creeps down and catches the hem of Misha’s shirt. When he begins to pull it up, though, he feels Misha’s breath catch slightly.
“Are you okay, dear? Does it hurt?”
“I am fine.” Misha doesn’t normally talk about his feelings, but well - this is what it’s about. “Am just…little bit nervous.”
“About what?” Ludwig draws back slightly, not wanting to push the other man.
“Maybe you will not like how I look.”
“Why, that’s absurd…” Ludwig frowns. “And why wouldn’t I?”
Misha thinks. Regardless of how he phases this, it’s going to sound silly. “Ah. Put on little bit of weight. You might not like…” He trails off. Yep. Silly.
“Oh, that…” What’s that look on Ludwig’s face now? “Well, I must admit that I’ve noticed that. But you needn’t worry yourself about that.” He pauses. “Aheh, er, I must admit that I find it attractive.”
Misha’s brow furrows in thought. This doesn’t really compute. But then, this revelation does make the way Ludwig’s been acting, all the staring and touching him there, make sense. He looks at Ludwig and doesn’t see any deception on his face. In fact, he almost looks shy, cheeks slightly flushed.
“You sure?” Misha says doubtfully.
“...Yes.” Ludwig reaches up to fiddle with his glasses the way he does when he’s nervous, then realizes he’s not wearing them because he’s in bed. Instead he plays with his hair. “It suits you. You look so handsome, you know? My big, strong man.” His voice drops low. “And the way it feels when I touch you…” He winds a strand of his short hair around his fingers, so tightly they turn pale. “It’s like heaven, I can’t explain it. I love feeling it, and I love it when you get on top of me…so soft and heavy, it’s perfect…Ach, forgive me.” He tries to shake the thoughts off. “In any case, that’s the last thing you need to worry about, Misha. Your body drives me mad.”
Now Misha feels like he’s the one turning red. It’s hard to make sense of this in his head. Again, his body is a weapon. Not something to be admired or lusted over. That’s not him. And yet his Ludwig is right here looking at him like that. He decides to give up on trying to understand this. The logistics aren’t important right now.
“Touch me, then,” Misha says quietly.
“You really…”
“Da. Wherever you want, Doktor.” Misha pulls up the bottom of his T-shirt as an invitation.
Wordlessly, Ludwig begins pressing kisses to the other man’s soft stomach. He rests one hand on it and squeezes him gently, appraisingly. He seems pleased at what he finds, spreading deeper kisses over the tight skin, poking at his navel and watching how it makes Misha squirm ever so slightly. He lovingly traces over the scattered stretch marks that adorn the other man’s stomach and hips. Most of them are faded; some are fresh.
“I love these.” He kisses the winding marks. “They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you…” Misha doesn’t know what to say to this. He runs his fingers through Ludwig’s hair appreciatively, hoping that gets the message across. Ludwig traces his hand in circles over Misha’s stomach again, and the larger man can’t help but settle back into the bed. Now that he doesn’t feel as guilty about this, it actually feels pleasant to be this full and to have his lover touch him so soothingly. Comforting and safe.
“Feels good,” he says. He reaches down and rubs Ludwig’s shoulders, going after that spot on the right side that he knows bothers him.
“Ja?”
“Mmhm. So full with you touching me like that, after you feed me breakfast. I like it.”
“Me too.” Ludwig is squirming and wriggling around in the bed a bit now as he massages the other man’s belly. “I’m glad, I want to make you feel good, Lieber.” He kisses Misha’s chest.
“So good.” Misha hugs Ludwig tightly. In bliss, Ludwig coos and settles into him. They’re more familiar with each other’s bodies than they are with their own, they’re so used to touching each other like this.
They lie together for a while, not needing words to speak what needs to be spoken, but eventually Misha says,
“Will take you up on offer of second breakfast.”