Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Another day at Chub Burger. Sam tugged at his shirt to try to get a little airflow.

It was stifling back by the fryers. Sweat made the fringe of his dark hair stick to his forehead and cheek. This was the third time this week he was stuck back there. Even working up front wasn't as bad as melting in the least ventilated area of the kitchens. He knew exactly why he was there though.

Mickey.

The Chub Burger employees knew the manager for a few things. His big smile, petty attitude, and inappropriate comments.

Sam suspected Mickey's attitude was because of his ego. He loved nothing more than having authority over others, even the slightest bit. The pettiness was another way of reinforcing that he was the boss. The rest of them were disposable underpaid peons. He could smile and look someone in the eye while assigning them a task he knew they hated. And if they gave a reaction? They would get reprimanded with that same bright grin. He took joy in this small amount of power.

He was only a fast-food restaurant manager but that was enough for him.

Sam couldn't help but think of him as a dork for that reason alone.

A dork he needed to talk to so that he could survive the rest of his shift. " Mickey, do you have a minute? "

The manager turned his head from where he was speaking with the cashier who had asked for his help. The ice cream machine was acting up again. Mickey's head angled downward slightly to meet Sam's eyes, his own eyes curved with his smile. 

" Keep your pants on, Sam. I'll be with you in a jiff. " He turned his attention back to the cashier. There was that smug attitude.

Sam knew it wasn't about making him wait. It was about the cashier. The cashier was new on the job and had caught Mickey's eye for whatever reason. Mickey's interests would wander in patterns his employees couldn't quite crack. Most employees considered catching his eye to be a bad thing.

Whoever was his favorite was subject to his wandering eyes and flirtatious remarks. They were quips, things he could brush off as a joke if the recipient called him out or gave a negative reaction. Other times his comments were unsolicited advice and suggestions about their appearance. The strangest part of it was his attitude in his approach. Humoring his advances offered little improved treatment as far as respect. No, the only real benefit to being Mickey's favorite was getting your way on more things. In that one instance, they did receive special treatment.

Sam waited, looking at Mickey's back for lack of anything else to pay attention to. He was broad across the back and shoulders, contrasting Sam’s narrow shape. He looked firm up top like he might work out. Further down his back and sides, his weight was more noticeable. His love handles showed where he tucked his shirt into his pants. There was a divot at the small of his back where the more toned muscles met the soft layer of fat.

It was unavoidable to pick up a few extra pounds working this job. Given how long Mickey had worked here, it would have been more surprising for him to lack that padding. 

Mickey turned to face Sam and Sam had to look up to meet his eyes. He didn’t want to offend his boss by being so obvious about looking at his body. The manager rarely gave others that same courtesy. Even Sam got a passing sweep before he looked at his face. Something about the disinterest on Mickey’s face made Sam feel unexpectedly self-conscious.

“ What’s up, bud? What do you need? ” Mickey asked. The cashier behind him looked flustered and turned away to return to the front counter. It made Sam wonder what the two had been speaking about.

” My break is coming up and I want to switch stations when I come back ,” Sam answered. He tried to sound confident as he asked this. Mickey’s smile turned thin-lipped at the request and popped that confidence with ease.

“ Something wrong with the fryers, Sam? It’s an easy station. Should I give you a rundown on it? ” Mickey questioned, flashing his white teeth in his smile. His friendly tone wasn’t enough to hide the condescension in his words. Sam could feel it. It was like an accusation. An unsaid implication that he was being stupid or lazy.

“ It’s not that it’s difficult. I’m melting back here, man. I keep getting this station too. Can’t it be someone else’s turn? ” Sam said with some desperation.

“ That bad, huh? ” Mickey’s eyes wandered the kitchen as though he was seeking an excuse to get away from this conversation. Sam could tell already he wasn’t getting any sympathy from him. He wasn’t one of his favorites. His complaints didn’t mean anything. He switched tactics.

“ Hey, it’s fine if there’s nothing else I can do today. ...Maybe think about it for my next shift though? ” Sam posed with a half-hearted smile.

“ Sure ,” Mickey agreed with a brief nod. He ran his hand through his strawberry blonde hair with an avoidant look away. “ I’ll keep that in mind. I don’t think there is anywhere to move you today though. Everybody is pretty in the swing of things and I’m about to go on my lunch break so I can’t cover anybody .”

He didn’t mean it. He was going to continue about his day and forget this conversation even happened. There was a chance he’d even go out of his way to keep Sam on the fryers to teach him not to bother him with problems like this.

The idea came to Sam the moment before Mickey turned to leave him. He stepped forward, a little closer.

“ My break is about to start too. Uh. Do you mind if I eat with you? ” Mickey looked back at Sam with mild curiosity. Sam offered an appeasing smile. “ Boss? ” Tacking that on felt like he might be laying it on too thick. He expected Mickey to get annoyed. Instead, Mickey smiled.

“ Do whatever you want. But there is a fan in my office ," Mickey offered as he turned his back and kept walking. That was as close to an invitation as it was going to get.

Sam returned to his station to finish up what he had started. He handed off the fryers to the person meant to cover him on his break. Then he clocked out for lunch and grabbed a couple of items from the reject bin.

It wasn't uncommon for someone to mess up an order or for food to not get picked up on time if someone ordered online. The reject bin was considered a free-for-all and consisted of those orders. Sam only unwrapped the burger to check its contents. He didn't want to end up with a disgusting order like "extra, extra, extra mayonnaise".

Assured it was something normal, he took it and a box of fries with him back to Mickey's office.

Chapter Text

Sam found Mickey already kicked back at his desk. The manager had a burger in hand, his feet up on the desk, and more surprisingly the top few buttons of his shirt undone. A patch of curly reddish chest hair was visible in this gap. For a moment it was all Sam could look at. Mickey didn't notice this, enjoying his burger and the cool breeze of the fan. His apron hung on a coat hook on the wall. Without it, his outfit hinted more at an office job. Unlike the polos everyone else wore, he wore a button up shirt. A slight difference to make him more more professional and make his role at work obvious.

His eyes finally found Sam and he offered a smile as he chewed.

"Take the other seat, Sam. You can eat at my desk. Just don't get condiments on my stuff," Mickey said after swallowing. He took another bite and his attention went back to his computer screen as Sam sat down. 

Sam took his apron off and let it hang over the arm of his chair while he unwrapped his food. The air from the fan felt nice. Finally a reprieve from the oppressive heat of the grill and fryers. But Mickey's divided attention still annoyed him. He knew his lecherous reputation. He had even heard comments that would have made him blush, always directed at his coworkers. Why wasn't Mickey even giving him an inch?

He took a big bite from his burger, barely masking his frustration. Then he saw it. The briefest glance in his direction. The slightest spark of interest. Mickey was quick to downplay it by reaching down to his fries on his desk but Sam had seen it.

But as he continued to eat, there was nothing else.

What was that about?

"Say, Mickey... Can I ask you something? " he started with a slight tilt of his head. Mickey peeled his attention away from the computer screen. Sam could see he was watching some television show but couldn't get a good look from across the desk.

"You just did," Mickey said with the cheesy smile of someone who knew their joke was terrible. Sam held back his annoyed reaction.

"Do you think I'm... Bad looking? "

It was an awkward way of wording it and he knew it. What else was he supposed to say? Mickey, why don't you think I'm hot? Mickey, am I unappealing? Sexually? Mickey raised a brow and his smile turned to one of bemusement. He paused his show and removed one of his earbuds to give Sam his full attention.

"I didn't take you for the type with self-esteem issues. Then again, you are a guy who wears makeup. Maybe I should have guessed ," Mickey thought out loud before popping another fry in his mouth.

"It's only eyeliner... " Sam grumbled to himself. Mickey mulled over his inquiry before leaning forward, his elbows on the desk.

"Alright. You want my honest opinion? The goth thing is probably your problem," Mickey stated with confidence. He didn't even know why Sam was asking yet he was so sure he knew the answer. " I'm all for self-expression or whatever people call it now. You do you, blah blah blah. But if you're scaring off chicks, it's probably that. "

Sam could feel himself shrinking with embarrassment at the unexpected criticism. He knew Mickey felt that way about his style since he had once warned him not to wear a lot of piercings or makeup to work. But he didn't expect such a blunt dressing down.

"Who said I was trying to pick up chicks? Do you even like 'chicks', Mickey? " he asked, unable to hold back his defensive tone.

Mickey laughed.

"Woah, did I hit a nerve? You're the one who asked! And if you must know, I do like chicks. Babes too. And hunks," he elaborated, punctuated with another bite of his burger and a wink. His expression was smug while he chewed and looked at Sam. For his part, Sam was seething with embarrassment in his seat. He spoke again after swallowing. "If that's not what you wanted to hear, why did you ask me? Are you getting bullied or something? "

His dismissive attitude brought more heat to Sam's face. Sam was embarrassed and frustrated. Mickey said it as though it were a mild curiosity more than anything. 

"No, nobody is 'bullying' me at work. What a way to even put it. I'm not a high school kid."

"I know that. But are you old enough to drink? " Mickey asked, eyes curved like a mischievous cat's. He was getting a rise out of Sam on purpose.

"I'm twenty-three, " Sam sighed, irritation plain at this point. Mickey set aside his sandwich to sip his soda. His Cheshire grin hadn't lessened in the least.

"I know that, Sam. I hired you. You're too easy." He laughed. "But my point still stands. Why are you asking me that? "

"It's not that weird to ask you," Sam insisted. He knew there was no getting out of this if Mickey did figure out why he was asking him in particular. "You're my boss but you're also... Chill. I guess..." Mickey's brows pinched up. He was still entertained, but now he was puzzled too.

"Yeah. I know. But I'm older than you. And you've never asked me about personal stuff before. Not that I care. You can ask me this kind of thing if you want as long as you don't get all bent out of shape about my answer. I just don't want to hear that you're... " Mickey's smile was more of a sneer as he thought of the word. "'Uncomfortable' if you decide later that you regret asking."

The thought of someone making that kind of complaint about Mickey didn't surprise Sam at all. Nor did Mickey being sorely butt-hurt about it surprise him. It only provided him with an opening.

"You're only a few years older than me ," Sam said, reeling his attitude back in. He wouldn't be blatant about flirting. He was still feeling things out. Subtle. Mickey scoffed, sitting back in his chair again with his arms dangling over the sides. Sam could see the arc of his belly when he slumped back like this. The crease in his shirt where it caught between his stomach and his pecs. Maybe Mickey really did work out. Sam could tell his pecs were soft but still firmer looking than expected. Usually, the apron hid them.

"Funny ," Mickey said, rolling his eyes. " I'm not in my twenties anymore. You don't have to try and flatter me like that. I'll get the idea you're just kissing my ass because you think I'm mad at you for something ."

"I didn't do anything for you to be mad at me," Sam pointed out. "And maybe a few just means something different to you than it does me. You're only like thirty."

Mickey considered this then shook his head with a smile. "Whatever. You're awfully mouthy today, Sam. How about you just eat your sandwich? " He put his earbud back in and his eyes back on his computer screen.

Utter defeat.

Sam realized he wasn't exactly a masterful seducer. With much resignation, he ate his lunch. He noted with annoyance that the burger he had taken was a double-decker. Nothing could go right today.

He didn't want to go back to that hot kitchen. So even when he felt he had enough to eat, he decided he'd just slowly graze on the sandwich to bide out his time. Anything to stay in the fan.

Mickey was still watching his show, having since finished his food. Yet his eyes occasionally flicked back to Sam.

Never when Sam was looking right at him, so it took him a while to notice. But he was looking at him.

Sam watched him from the edge of his vision and took a larger bite of the remaining half of his burger. 

Mickey watched. Even when he reached for his soda, his eyes didn't move from Sam. A bit of ketchup dripped from the burger and onto Sam's thumb. He shifted, running his tongue along his thumb to clean it off. He glanced at Mickey. Mickey averted his eyes the moment he did.

So that was what he liked? Seductive eating? He could work with that.

For the rest of his break, he ate slowly, careful not to look directly at Mickey. He pretended to watch the show Mickey was watching instead. He was relieved to come to the end of the meal. For a while, he was unsure he could even finish the big sandwich. But he managed, and now he felt stuffed.

Mickey didn't ask him to leave right away so he stayed in his seat, recovering from the big meal. Sam could still feel his eyes on him. He finally spoke again.

"Hey, Mickey... You mind if I eat with you again next time our breaks line up? It's nice in here," Sam said, deciding to risk  the request. The office itself was a good excuse to ask. The alternative was eating in his car or outside or in the restaurant. Nothing was suspicious about preferring the cool private space over those options. Mickey only thought about it for a moment.

"Yeah, why not? You don't make a mess and you're only a little snarky, " Mickey replied with a grin. " But I'll kick you out if you get carried away next time." He always had to slip in a reminder that he was in charge, didn't he?

"Sure, man ." Sam turned and picked up his apron, taking it and his trash with him. He had a lot to think about but now he'd have more time to figure his boss out.

If he could work out just what appealed to him, he was sure he could have the manager wrapped around his finger.

Chapter Text

Lunch with Mickey was becoming a daily ritual for Sam.

He would check with Mickey if their breaks lined up first. Then he would meet with him in the back office with something from the rejects bin. They would watch Mickey’s TV dramas on the office computer while they ate together and chatted. So far he had learned little that would help him beyond the fact Mickey enjoyed watching him eat.

He also learned Mickey was great at ruining the mood. He kept coming to the conclusion that Mickey was misunderstood. And then Mickey would be a blatant asshole and ruin that reading of him.

But he was starting to become a friendlier asshole.

Sam suspected that he was even going out of his way to make sure they had more breaks together. Mickey was in charge of scheduling so it was easy enough for him to arrange.

Finally, Mickey made a move.

Not the one Sam had hoped for but it was something.

“ Heya, Sam. Sticking around for lunch like usual? ” Mickey questioned him with a smile. He was on his way back into the kitchen as he said this. Sam could smell the faint linger of cigarette smoke on his clothes. He pushed his hair out of his face, straightening up from where he had been cleaning the counter.

“ Yeah, of course. Where else would I go? ” Sam retorted playfully. The man working the grill cast a side-eye over his shoulder at him. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if he found out there was some gossip about him and Mickey. He already knew some of them found it strange he was going out of his way to spend time with Mickey. There was no way they suspected his intentions though. They just thought he was a suck-up.

“ Good. Well hey, when you clock out for your break, come back here to the kitchen, alright? I’ve got something in mind. ” Mickey passed him by, giving him a thump on the back with his hand. He noticed Mickey’s touch lingered a moment longer than needed. His hand slid down before pulling away as he continued on his way.

The fry cook raised a brow at that then frowned at Sam once Mickey had passed through.

“ You know, you don’t have to let him do that ,” he mentioned aside to him.

“ Oh, I know, Ike. He’s just being friendly, dude. Don’t worry about me, ” Sam assured him with a nod. He turned away to clock out, hoping not too many people noticed that. He hadn’t thought about Mickey getting more nervy with him at work. He had pictured the scenario as a lot more secretive. That was expecting too much discretion on Mickey’s part.

For his part, Ike looked unconvinced. He turned his attention back to his work but that pensive frown was still on his face. Sam didn't know the fry cook very well but he seemed nice enough. He was big and came off as gruff, a reserved guy. Maybe that was why he had spoken up. Because Sam was on the smaller side and usually very compliant. He appreciated that he wanted to look out for him, even if he didn't need it.

When he came back, Mickey was right there by the grill, smiling with his hands on his hips as Sam returned.

“ You’re in for a treat today, bud. I noticed you’re always taking junk from the reject bin. Not that I’m mad you’re taking advantage of your employee benefits ,” Mickey said with a grin. It was odd to Sam. There was a distinct difference between his smug look and the customer service smile. One was his natural look. The other was something he wore in public. It felt practiced. It was like whatever line Mickey dropped when he was reciting corporate speak.

“ The leftovers are fine ,” Mickey continued. “ But since you’re taking such a liking to them, I want to make you something off-menu. The Mickey Special. ”

Sam looked at him with suspicion. That was enough to get Mickey's customer-service smile to drop back into that sleazy grin he had come to know. " What? Too good to let your boss cook for you? "

" No, but The Mickey Special sounds like slang for something you'd do in the back booth of a bar. Not a sandwich ," Sam answered with a quiet snort. Mickey rolled his eyes.

" You're a real comedian, Sam. I'm sure you've got real discerning taste. But I'm doing something nice for you so how about a little more gratitude? "

" Right. Sorry. Thanks for making me lunch, Mickey ."

" That's better. " Mickey turned back to the grill and looked at Ike. " Well? You heard me say I was gonna cook. Move over to one side. " The fry cook grumbled but stepped over to one side of the grill. He continued his work while Mickey took over the other area of the grill. It was a slow part of the day so there was extra space to work with. Mickey shook his head as he stepped over and started getting the grill ready. " C'mere, Sam, maybe you'll learn something ."

Sam sighed audibly as he stepped over, making a show of it.

" Like I said, this isn't something on the menu. But I make myself one sometimes ." Sam lingered by the side of the grill and rested his elbows on the counter while he watched. Mickey fried a generous helping of onions in butter on the grill then moved them aside. He toasted the buns next in the same spot. Then he balled up some ground beef and made four smash patties. He added seasonings while they cooked.

He talked Sam's ear off the whole time about what he was doing. He had a lot to say about searing the meat and sealing in juices and caramelizing the onions. Most of it went in one ear and out the other.

Sam wasn't interested in cooking but the burgers did smell good. By the time Mickey put the burgers together, he was eager to taste them. He watched as he put a swirl of barbecue sauce on the underside of the top bun and finally close the sandwiches. Each had two patties with a big scoop of the onions on top. The green lettuce at the bottom was the only dry-looking part of it.

" It looks great, Mickey. It's so tall though ," Sam said as he accepted his burger. Mickey had at least had the forethought to put one of the paper wrappers around it. This saved him from getting barbecue sauce all over his hands while he tried to keep the sandwich closed.

" Yeah, you'll have to really go for it. I've seen you eat the regular Doubles though so I think you can handle it, " Mickey said with a grin. "I don't want these things near my desk though. Let's go eat out front ." He turned without waiting for confirmation, heading out of the kitchen.

Sam hurried to follow.

Chapter Text

Seated at the back of the restaurant at a booth table, Mickey casually took a big bite of his burger. Sam looked at his burger from different angles to plan his approach. Mickey watched him with half-lidded eyes. He swallowed.

"Don't be such a priss, Sam. Take a bite. We've got napkins," he urged him with a wave of his hand. His tone conveyed a building impatience. Sam relented and took a big bite out of the middle. He didn't get much of the top bun, but he got some of everything else. He also got some sauce on the corners of his mouth which he was quick to wipe away while he chewed. It was a bigger bite than he had intended to take so his mouth was too full to even mumble a reaction to the flavor. It was juicy and buttery and oniony. Leagues above the restaurant's usual fare, but no less greasy.

Mickey looked satisfied with his expression alone, smiling as he watched him chew. "It's great, right? Best burger you ever had? " Sam was still chewing and couldn't retort or tease the idea that it wasn't the best. So he nodded passively as he worked on the mouthful of food. "Thought so. I don't make them for just anybody, you know. But we've been getting to know each other. And I've noticed you've taken a liking to the food here ."

Sam never particularly disliked the food at Chub Burger but he had never eaten it as often as he did now with Mickey. For most lunch breaks he was happy to spend anywhere else and to eat anywhere else. So it made sense Mickey got that impression now that he ate there nearly every workday.

He finally swallowed his bite with a soft sigh.

"Yeah. Well, it's convenient. I get it for free so... " He gave a noncommittal shrug. "This is way better though. It's like actual restaurant food. "

"Hey, don't knock the cheap stuff just because it can't live up to my cooking," Mickey said with a laugh. "Besides, it likes you."

Sam took a smaller bite this time, brows furrowed as he considered Mickey's words. "What does that mean? " Mickey's eyes drifted down while he ate.

"Don't play dumb, Sam. You're going to make me say it? " he asked. Sam followed his gaze down.

"Say what? " Sam said. But he could feel his cheeks going red as he started to suspect his meaning. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed. But he hadn't thought it was enough for anyone else to notice. The soft slope of where his stomach was starting to become more paunchy. The way his sides had started to soften.

He recalled when Mickey had patted him on the back earlier. His hand had moved straight down to where he had softened up at his side.

"Forget it," Mickey said, shaking his head. Even as he refused to elaborate, his delight was obvious. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about though ."

Sam was certain he only said that to further fluster him. He took another irritated bite and looked out the window. Better to look at the parking lot rather than face Mickey. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see Mickey leering at him. He enjoyed seeing Sam like this and it made Sam feel all the more ruffled by his comment.

"Do you think anyone else has noticed? " Sam finally asked without looking at him.

"Probably not ," Mickey shrugged. "But I'm a details guy. I notice little things like that."

"You mean you noticed because you were looking for it," Sam scoffed.

"That an accusation, Sam? " Mickey's brows raised and he gladly invited Sam to agree.

"Well you did squeeze me earlier," Sam said, finally looking at him with a hint of a smile. Mickey snorted.

"I didn't squeeze you. You're such a brat. And by the way, if you don't finish that burger, I'm not gonna cook for you again. I made it just for you. So don't waste it."

That finally confirmed it for Sam. Watching him eat, cooking for him, and commenting on his weight. This was what Mickey was into. Maybe even hand in hand with his interest in teasing him. Sam felt like he had cracked the code.

Pointedly, he looked Mickey in the eyes while he had another big bite of the burger. He could see him focus on him. Mickey looked relaxed but he was still giving Sam his undivided attention. As usual, Mickey had finished eating long before he did. He had plenty of time to draw this out.

But he encountered a new problem with that.

"The Mickey Special" was big. Even without fries or anything else, it was rich and filling. He could tell as he got down to the last third of it that he was running out of room. He shifted around in his seat.

"Mickey, since you're done, do you think you could grab me a soda? " he asked. Mickey frowned at the request but stood up.

"Alright. Cherry cola? "

"Hey, you remembered," Sam said with a smile. He watched Mickey head away to the soda machine. The burger was momentarily abandoned on the table so that Sam could reach down with both hands. He could feel his stomach pressed against the fly of his jeans, tight against the denim. He only needed the extra room so he could finish. He reasoned he'd straighten his clothes back out before he went back to his work.

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down as well. This let off the pressure the waistband had been putting on him. His stomach pushed out a little more into that extra space. The jeans hadn't been so tight before. Even earlier that day they had hugged his waist but not to the point of harshly digging in. But it was a different matter trying to ignore the discomfort in his full stomach.

He pulled down the front of his shirt to hide his wardrobe adjustment. His hands came back above the table and he resumed eating his burger.

Mickey returned and set his soda down in front of him.

"Your Highness," he snarked before sitting back down across from Sam.

"You still went and got it for me," Sam pointed out with a victorious smile as he took the cup. "Thanks, Mickey."

"Whatever." Mickey splayed out in his seat in the booth. His legs spread wide and one arm rested up on the back of the seat. He resumed watching Sam finish up the rest of his burger. Sam finally took the last bite, letting out a heavy breath.

"Done," he said, closing his eyes briefly as he sat back. The pleasurable flavors coated his mouth, not quite as enjoyable as they had been at the start. He never ate this much. But there was a sense of triumph in getting through it and the feeling of overindulgence. That and the warmth he felt inside him from the way Mickey was looking at him.

"You actually got through it. I'm impressed. You must really like my cooking," Mickey teased with a laugh. "I'll have to cook for you more often. Not too often though. Can't have you getting addicted to it." He winked. Sam quietly huffed and looked away from him. Mickey leaned to one side, glancing down at Sam's full stomach. "You know, it's pretty dead in here. Nobody's looking."

Sam picked his head back up to look at him.

"...So? " He felt a rush. He wondered what Mickey was trying to get him to do. But there was still apprehension. What if it was something embarrassing and someone working the front counter saw?

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to... get more comfortable," Mickey suggested with an urging nod

"Oh, like...? " Sam looks around before moving to Mickey's side of the table, sliding in next to him on the bench seat. Mickey's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wh- I didn't mean- " Mickey looked around to be doubly sure that nobody was watching before he gave Sam a stern look. Sam couldn't believe how red Mickey's face got. All he had done was slide in next to him on the seat. He pressed against his side in his hurry to do what he thought he had been asked. But was that such a big deal? Mickey had such a reputation. Who would have thought he'd chicken out the moment PDA came into it? "I meant to unbutton your pants, you dunce. Are you trying to get the rumor mill going? "

Sam looked up at him and then, slowly, coyly, he turned up the edge of his shirt.

"Oh... Sorry. I already did that." He felt silly doing this. Showing off something so mundane as though it were scandalous. Yet it gave him a thrill. And it did the same for Mickey. Mickey's eyes were on Sam's modest paunch spilling out where his zipper had been undone. His desire was evident. Only the underside of Sam's belly was visible. Everything from the belly button up was still covered. Mickey's hand hovered there between them. Hesitating.

"Fuck, Sam... " Mickey breathed. His breath was hot and Sam could smell the odd intermix of the lunch they had shared and mint. Mickey must have popped a breath mint while he wasn't looking. Sam looked at him expectantly, flustered and grinning with anticipation.

Mickey reached over.

He tugged Sam's shirt back down into place.

"You uppity brat. Right in the restaurant, out in the open," Mickey said, still sounding breathless. He scooted away toward the window, his expression conflicted. " Move ."

Sam slumped. He had been so close!

He moved out of the booth and back over to his side. He put his chin in his hands as he looked at Mickey.

"Sorry, Boss. I thought you'd... I don't know." Mickey glanced at him, wiping his forehead with one of the napkins.

"You thought nothing. You're such a bonehead. The one time we're not in my office," Mickey sighed. He looked just as disappointed as Sam. He slipped his apron back on, tying it behind him before he stood up. He leaned over Sam, putting his hand down on his shoulder. He squeezed. "Next time let's pick somewhere more private." Sam's eyes widened as he looked up at him. Mickey still looked frustrated but his tone conveyed more. He wanted him to try again.  "Now you stay there. I... have errands to run. Don't follow me."

Sam watched him head out the front door of the restaurant. This didn't go the way he had hoped. But why had Mickey put his apron on only to leave?

He sat there thinking about this. Mickey's car didn't go anywhere out in the parking lot. It finally hit him. "Oh." He grinned, his face red at the idea he had done that to his boss. Left him in need of some "personal time" out in his car. It was funny and it was also progress. Lunch had been awkward but far from a total bust.

He made up his mind that next time he'd step things up now that he was sure Mickey was interested.

For now, he needed to recover from today's efforts. It was time to relax and hope he could comfortably button his pants again by the time his break ended.

Chapter Text

Sam had hoped to get another chance to make his move with Mickey. He botched the attempt when he had cooked lunch for him. But he expected he would get another chance soon. He hadn't realized that it was going to take so long to get another chance.

Mickey seemed similarly frustrated. A new promotion the chain was running had him stuck with a tight schedule. Usually, he set his hours and worked whatever was most convenient for him. He didn't slack. He loved his job after all. But he didn't take the shifts he didn't want. On the rare occasion that he was forced to come in by an absence, the person responsible knew they would be in for it. Corporate was another beast entirely. He didn't have a say in this.

This meant he didn't get to work with Sam as much as he wanted to.

Sam could only bide his time and consider how to make the most of his next chance with him.

In the meantime, he continued taking his lunches from the reject bin. Mickey's comments from their lunch together had him thinking. He liked it when he ate like this, right? If he was being honest with himself, it also felt good. He tried to eat things that were good for him at home and so to have lunch as a no-pressure thing was a relief. The food tasted good and he enjoyed that feeling of fullness. It would still take a while longer before he could let go of that little guilty feeling in the back of his mind. The trained reflex to feel bad about eating too much or eating "bad" food. Ignoring it was freeing.

But the effect was still inevitable. Hell, it was half the point. He had seen the way Mickey looked at him when he pulled his shirt up that one time. He knew it would appeal to him. It didn't make it any less surprising for Sam when he started to have trouble buttoning his pants.

He was a slim guy for most of his life. A little paunchy in the middle but only enough that he was soft in that area. This was a new sensation for him. He had to suck in his stomach and pull the two sides of the black denim together with force to get them to meet. The button kissed the hole. A little more force got it through and he relaxed.

When he did he could feel his stomach spread over the top of the waistband, his sides pooching over it as well. The zipper was still spread wide, and he could see some soft padding pressed against the fabric caging it.  He zipped up and looked himself over in the mirror.

He wasn't drastically different at a passing glance. His face was already a rounded shape so the softening of his jawline was subtle on him. Most of the change was visible right at his waist, exaggerated by how the waistband of the jeans hugged him. It had a muffin top effect, pinching the extra pudge that hadn't been there before.

"Chubby" was the word that came to mind. A sometimes impolite and sometimes endearing word to describe having a little extra.

He turned, examining how the pants fit in the back. Tight there too but nothing he couldn’t work with. The way the fabric hugged his thighs was surprising though. He didn’t expect the weight to accumulate there. It made him wonder if there was any noticeable difference in his hips as well. He couldn’t tell in the mirror.

He faced the mirror again and lifted his arms. The shirt lifted with it, exposing the lowermost curve of his belly. It showed the dusting of dark hair trailing up its center.

He would have to be careful about that. For now, his apron would cover it. He could get through the day and worry about his clothes later.

Even if Mickey was busy, he was more accommodating of Sam’s requests than he used to be. Sam was glad to work the first window at the drive-thru instead of being stuck by the fryers.

The work was dull but at least it wasn’t as taxing as other parts of the kitchen. And during slow moments, he could sneak glances at his phone to pass the time.

He was checking his phone when he felt a jab against his lower back. The phone clattered on the counter as he hurried to put it away, looking back in surprise. Mickey was leaning against the wall next to him with an amused grin, pulling his hand back from Sam.

“ You’re looking a little distracted there, Sam. Something on your mind? ” he asked, acting as though he hadn’t seen the phone. Sam faked a laugh and put his phone away in his pocket.

“ No, I was checking the time. That’s all. Did you want something? ”

“ Actually yeah, since you’ve got some time, I need to have a word with you about something ,” Mickey answered with a dry tone. He acted as though it was something he was obligated to talk to him about. Yet Sam could detect that underlying glee in his eyes. “ I know you probably get sick of me telling you about the work dress code .”

“ Dress code? ” Sam looked up at him. “ How am I breaking the dress code? I took out my extra earrings like always. And I’m only wearing a little eyeliner. ” The makeup was a definite sticking point between Sam and Mickey. Sam was very careful about it since applying the heavy kohl look he wore outside of work always got him in trouble.

“ I know. Honestly, it’s nice to see you learning a little restraint ,” Mickey teased him with a grin. “ In one area at least .”

“ What’s that supposed to mean? ” Sam asked. He looked around to make sure nobody else was too close by. Nobody was paying attention to the two of them.

“ I noticed you’ve been enjoying your employee benefits is all. The free food is good, huh bud? ” Mickey said, clapping a hand on Sam’s back and making him stumble forward against the counter. That usual sleazy smile replaced the faux professionalism in an instant. “ That’s fine. Have as much as you want. But, uh, you're getting a little big for your britches, aren't you? "

Sam smoothed his clothes, giving Mickey a sourpuss look for his teasing. Mickey rolled his eyes when Sam didn't reply. He lowered his voice, leaning in closer. " Your uniform, Sam. Did you think I wouldn't notice? You keep pulling it back down. " He straightened up again, turning to lean back against the drive-thru window counter. " Went up a size huh? Or two? "

" M-maybe... " Sam mumbled, his cheeks red. He expected Mickey to eventually notice. But he didn't think he'd mention it to him where others might overhear it. " I was planning on picking up some new clothes after my shift. "

" Yeah? Already got that on the To Do list today? " Mickey said, feigning interest. "I think you forgot about something. " He reached over, pinching the sliver of flesh visible where Sam's shirt rode up at his side. Sam yelped then went quiet. He noticed the girl at the other drive-thru window glance his way. Mickey waved at her with a smile and she turned her attention right back to her work. " Your shirt, Sam, " Mickey continued. " The company polos. I'm the one who orders them. So you needed to ask me to do that for you ."

" Oh, right... " Sam really had forgotten about that. He realized the opportunity in front of him. " In that case, we should take care of that right now, right? " He gave Mickey a slight grin. " Since you're not doing anything anyway. "

Mickey gave him a warning look for his comment. Then he rubbed his chin as he considered the idea.

" Weeeeell, I guess I got a couple of minutes. " He smiled coyly. " Better to get it taken care of anyway. I don't see you trimming off any pounds any time soon. You'll end up in a crop top if I don't help. " Sam could feel his face go hot at the suggestion, even if Mickey meant it as a joke.

" Dude, come on. It's only a little bit ," he argued. He tried to give Mickey a push for his rude joke. His hands pressed into his side but Mickey himself didn't budge an inch. The manager raised a brow at him for putting his hands on him. Then he gave him a push on the forehead with the heel of his hand.

" Don't take it out on me just because you're rounding out, shortstack. It happens to a lot of people at this job. Now get going. The forms are in my office. " Sam walked ahead, arms crossed in indignation. At least he hoped that was how it looked. In reality, he was thinking about how much more solid Mickey was than he thought. He wondered if Mickey would be able to pick him up if he wanted to.

He cast a glance over his shoulder as they reached the office door. Mickey was popping a breath mint in his mouth and tucking the tin back away in his pocket.

It appeared they had the same idea of what was going to happen in that office.

Chapter Text

The office was in its usual state of slight disarray. Today it contained some cardboard pop-up displays as well. Mickey hadn't gotten around to setting them up yet so they were leaning on various cabinets and walls. Among them were pictures of the new menu items.  Some included the latest iteration of the Chub Burger mascot character.

Sam looked at the mascot; a rotund little blonde man with a burger, reminiscent of a 1950s diner chef. He wasn't sure if the mascot had a name. He had heard people call the character Chubby. He had also heard as many crude jokes about the source of the restaurant's name. Once, some jokester had drawn a bulge on the crotch area of one of the posters with the mascot.

The staff lamented its loss the day they replaced that poster.

He looked to Mickey next, seeing his back to him as he dug through one of the file cabinets for the form he needed. The taller man produced the paper and put it down on his desk.

" There it is. Uniform order form. " He grabbed a pen from the cup on his desk and offered it to Sam. " We actually order them online now, but I'm still supposed to get this for our records ," he said with a shrug. Sam took the pen.

" I was going to ask if I actually had to wait for this to go through snail mail. That would be a long wait for a shirt ," Sam replied, leaning over the desk to write. It was as expected. Name, number of shirts, choice of the only two colors, and what size he needed.

Sam frowned as he considered that last part.

He had worn a men’s small for the longest time. It came with being on the short side and having a slighter build than most. A medium would probably be fine, right?

Then again, Mickey had a point when he suggested he might get bigger still.

Mickey watched him, casually striding over to the office door.

" You forget how to spell your name? " he asked, leaning his back against the door.

" No. Just thinking ," Sam said with a glance his way. He untied his apron, setting it on the desk, and turned to Mickey. " What do you think? Would a medium fit or do I need a large? "

Without the apron, the way the fabric clung to his belly was obvious. He didn't bother pulling it back down into place when he felt how it rode up. It was just him and Mickey.

Mickey laughed. " You do not wear a large, " he said, his hands in his pockets. " Don't get me wrong. I'm impressed you aren't so... "

Sam raised a brow at him. " Skinny? "

" I was gonna say petite ," Mickey said with a grin. " That you aren't so dainty these days. But you're overestimating for sure if you think you need a large ."

Sam turned the pen around in his fingers. He crossed one ankle over the other, casually sitting on the edge of Mickey's desk.

" I don't think you can tell what size I need at just a glance. " His smile was devilish as he ran his tongue over his upper lip. " You should help me out. Give me a more thorough look ." Mickey looked smug as he reached down and turned the lock on the office door.

" I was waiting for you to ask me that ." He pulled away from the door and stepped closer. Sam looked up with barely contained excitement as Mickey pulled up the edge of his shirt. " I never expected this from you. A cute little starter belly ," he teased, rolling the shirt up to Sam's chest but not removing it.

Sam took Mickey's hand and brought it down to his side.

" You like it though, right? " he asked. He wanted confirmation. Some positive reinforcement. Mickey's hand squeezed the soft flesh at his side.

" Yeah, I like it a lot. " He brought his other hand to Sam's side. To Sam's surprise, he turned him around, making him face away from him. " Against the wall, not my desk ." Sam obediently put his hands up against the wall. He turned his head to meet Mickey's eye with enthusiasm. Mickey gave a tight smile and put a hand on Sam's head, turning it to face the wall again. " Quit looking at me like that, Sam. You're giving me puppy eyes and it's killing the mood ," he laughed, wrapping his arms around Sam from behind.

" I'm just really excited ," Sam said. Feeling daring, he pushed his ass back against Mickey's groin. He could hear him inhale sharply when he did. Mickey's hands wandered his torso. They cupped the soft curve of his belly and then dipped into his waistband.

" Damn. These pants are painted on. How did you even get into these? " Mickey asked with a snicker. " Let me do you a favor. " He unbuttoned Sam's pants. The smaller man's stomach pushed out further without the restriction. Mickey tutted quietly, running his thumb over the angry red indents left by the waistband. " That has got to feel better. "

" It does, " Sam admitted with some shyness. Mickey was paying attention to every reaction. Sam wasn't self-conscious of his weight, but he was still sensitive about it. Mickey's teasing easily got a rise out of him, but his compliments weren't rejected. His fingers kneaded against Sam's modest belly as he considered this.

He leaned in close and Sam could feel his breath against his ear.

" You'd feel even better if you took them all the way off ."

To his surprise, Sam showed no hesitation. Instead, he eagerly pulled his pants down to his knees, having to peel them off his thicker thighs. He bent down to get them down further and his plush ass pushed right back against Mickey's groin again. Mickey let out a shuddering sigh, putting his hands on Sam's hips. " You're so eager, " he said with an airy laugh. Sam looked back up at him over his shoulder.

" Duh, I've been angling at this for a while. I thought you'd never make a move ."

" You're so much cuter when you don't talk, Sam ," Mickey replied with a teasing grin.

" And you're cuter without the apron ." Sam stood back up once he had his pants around his ankles. He was wearing a pair of clingy purple boxer briefs that had once given him more room. He tugged the back to un-wedge them since they had rode up sharply when he bent over.

" That's your problem, Sam. You've got such an attitude ," Mickey noted. Sam couldn't help but notice he was still taking off the apron even as he criticized him. " You're lucky you're cute. And you've got a nice ass. " Sam stood up straighter when Mickey's hand cupped around one side of his ass and squeezed him.

This was the excitement he had been hoping for. Scandalous, in his underwear in the manager's office with his shirt rolled up. He just wished that Mickey was a little more on display for him too.

" You'd miss my attitude if I stopped giving it ," Sam retorts, reaching back to paw at Mickey's groin. He could feel that he was getting hard but he wasn't all the way there yet. " Come on, either unzip or let me turn around so I can unzip you myself ."

" That's exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about. " Sam gave a noise of surprise as he was pushed against the wall. Mickey had one hand on Sam's hip and the other on the wall. He leaned against him with his weight to pin him there. His grin was one of satisfaction when he saw Sam's expression. " I'm the boss, remember? I call the shots. And I set the pace too. " Sam could feel how the curve of Mickey's heavy stomach filled the space between him. It felt soft and very warm against his back.

It was a turn-on, having Mickey use his size against him. And it made him want to provoke more of a reaction from him.

Before he could talk back to him about it, he felt Mickey's hips move, grinding against him. His breathing was audible, a hint of his excitement.

Mickey’s hand left Sam's hip and he undid his pants. Sam eagerly looked back to try to sneak a peek. He leaned to one side when he found Mickey's stomach was blocking his view.

" Hey, did I say you could move? " Mickey's words came without venom or even any force. He was occupied with other things. He had his dick in hand now, stroking himself slowly to ensure he was fully at the ready. " Did you bring a condom? " he asked.

Sam bit his lip.

" Uhhh... " He could feel Mickey go still behind him.

" ...Well do you have... A packet of lube? Anything? "

Sam frowned. " No. I kind of thought you might have that stuff? "

This was a lie. Sam was so caught up in his fantasy of seducing his boss that he hadn't thought that far ahead. Mickey groaned in frustration.

" You- Sam, why would I be carrying that shit around at work? "

" I don't know! You asked if I was. "

" Yeah, because you said you had been waiting for this, " Mickey said, exasperated. He was quiet for a long moment. He didn't move, so Sam was still stuck there between him and the wall while he made up his mind. " Okay... It doesn't mean we can't do anything. I know what we'll do. "

He reached down and Sam perked up as he felt Mickey sliding his boxer briefs down.

" Did you think of something we could use? "

" Nope. Keep those thighs together for me, Sam ."

Sam was confused by this until he felt something hard poke against the back of his thigh. He did as he was asked and he felt Mickey pull him back against his body. The manager's soft torso conformed to his back and Sam’s ass was now against the underside of Mickey's belly. This let Mickey's dick slide between the soft flesh of Sam's thighs. Sam bit his lip as he felt the tip graze the underside of his sack.

“ I didn’t know you’d be big enough to reach all the way up front ,” he said with a smile.  He reached down to rub Mickey’s tip with his fingers. He could feel that only the head made it past his plush legs.

“ If your legs get any thicker, it won’t ,” Mickey pointed out, his chin resting on Sam’s shoulder. He clutched him close. “ You’re so damn soft... ”

Mickey adjusted his hold on Sam so he could cup his hand against the supple area at the bottom of his belly. His fingers mingled with the dark hair there. His thumb swept over the smoother skin off to the side of this trail. His other hand held tight to his hip, purposefully digging his fingers in as he started to move.

Sam kept his hands against the wall for now, jostled by Mickey thrusting against him. Mickey breathed heavily against his shoulder. He gave soft sounds of pleasure, restrained so as not to make too much noise. Sam turned his head, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek. He wanted more.

Mickey took the hint and turned his head to press his lips to Sam’s. Sam melted into his touch, moving his hips to stroke Mickey’s length between his thighs. He moaned and then felt teeth graze his lip.

“ Not too loud, ” Mickey murmured against his mouth. He moved his hand further down and gripped Sam’s length.

The reminder that they were just a door away from the busy restaurant sent a thrilled shiver through Sam. The door was locked but they could easily be overheard.

So he tried to keep his voice low even as he rubbed back against him with need. “ Boss, turn me around the other way. I want to look at you ,” Sam said, reaching behind him to tangle his fingers in Mickey’s shirt. He could see the way Mickey grinned at being called Boss.

" Sure. I can do that for you ," he said, pulling back from Sam. He turned him rather than letting him turn around on his own. Then he pushed his length between his thighs again. This time he was rubbing more fully against Sam's dick when he moved. Even with Mickey's shirt in the way, he could feel his tip pressing up against the bigger man's belly. It pushed under it in a pleasing way that made him feel enveloped by him. He put his hands on Mickey's sides to hold onto him as he craned his neck for another kiss.

Mickey met him halfway, his tongue sliding past his lips. The taste of mint was heavy on his tongue, just barely masking the cigarette smoke scent behind it. This close he could smell the cologne the manager wore. Sam decided to ask him what it was later. He liked it.

He thrust against Mickey in return now that they were settled. He squeezed at his sides and enjoyed the slight bounce that could be felt there whenever his hips bucked. In turn, he could feel Mickey's movements coming faster between his legs. The friction from before was mostly lost. The precum beading from Mickey's tip had made the space where his thighs met nice and slick.

Abruptly, Mickey pushed him by his shoulder back against the wall. He looked down as he held Sam's thigh with his other hand. His grip was tight and his movements were near frantic now.

" Fuck... Sam ," he said breathlessly. " Squeeze your thighs together... Just a little... "

Sam did so, leaning back with his fingers laced over the top of his chest. He arched his back to let Mickey have a full view of his body. His grinned, eyes bright with anticipation.

" Come on, Boss. Give it to me. " Teasingly, he squeezed a little harder. This drew a sharp gasp from Mickey before he loosened up again.

Mickey let go with one hand, biting his knuckle to quiet himself as his eyes rolled back. Sam could feel his hot seed flow between his thighs, a few stray drops escaping to roll down the back of his legs. He stroked himself, intent on finishing with him. Mickey suddenly grabbed his length.

" Not on my work clothes ," he murmured, stroking Sam himself. He was careful to keep his thumb up near the tip. Sam moaned loudly and Mickey let go of his hip to clamp his hand over his mouth instead. " What did I just tell you a minute ago? " he hissed, eyes flicking nervously to the door. But he kept going and Sam smiled behind the hand on his mouth.

A little part of him wanted to get caught.

He knew when he wasn't thinking with his dick that he would think that was an awful idea. But right now the fantasy was to be seen like this. With Mickey's dick still caught between his legs and his hands all over him.

Luckily for both of them, there was no sign that anyone had been near the door or heard anything.

Sam finally reached his climax. He bucked into Mickey's hand with purpose and made it difficult for him to keep his grip. Mickey cursed at him under his breath. Adjusting his hold, he was just in time to keep Sam's shot from getting past his hand and onto his shirt.

" Pain in the ass ," he grumbled as he took his hand off of Sam's face. He pulled away from him, holding his cum covered hand away from himself. Sam had to catch his breath, leaning back against the wall in a daze. He showed a slight grin when Mickey looked at him. " You been avoiding jacking off since you've been thinking about me or what? Look at all this ," Mickey finally said with a curl of his lip. He couldn't help that his smile showed through even as he tried to tease Sam. "I should smear it on your shirt for trying to get it all over me. But I won't this time. "

He walked around the desk, grabbing some tissues from the box there. He cleaned up his hand then cleaned where some of his own had gotten on his crotch. Once he was zipped up and less sticky, he offered some tissues to Sam.

" Is that why you keep such a big box of these back here? " Sam asked, looking pleased with himself as he took them to start cleaning up his thighs. Mickey gave a flat fake laugh in response.

" You're hilarious, Sam ." He let out a long sigh and sat down in his desk chair, spreading his legs out as he watched Sam clean himself up. " Sooo... I'll need you to wash your hands before you get back to work. And I'm putting you down for a size M ."

Sam watched him in return as he pulled his underwear back up. Mickey's eyes wandered his body as he took his time covering up.

" But if you think you need a size L down the road, let me know before it gets this bad again, eh half-pint? The only show you ought to be putting on at work should be for me ," Mickey added with a smile.

Sam nodded.

" Agreed. But let's not wait until then to do this again. "